Context
I found this article regarding James Holmes's prison behavior while perusing the Time Magazine website today. The article states that Mr. Holmes has been engaging in erratic behavior in jail, then says that might not be true, and concludes that the man's behavior is "mysterious."
Commentary
Consider this my Friday evening snark: I believe there's a difference between mysterious behavior and not confirming your information before posting a news story. Oh wait! This is the internet age, where the truth is "fluid."
What I find particularly funny is that the updated version, the one that says Holmes has been quiet throughout his incarceration, seems less credible, quoting only "sources," as opposed to the more specific "Arapahoe County Jail officials." Honestly though, can we just not say anything until we find someone willing to go on the record? Or are we just as crazy as James Holmes himself, believing that if we stuff ourselves with every morsel of information thrown our way everything will eventually become clear?
What did you see today?
Showing posts with label honesty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label honesty. Show all posts
7/20/2012
I saw a corporate settlement
Context
This morning, an agreement was reached between DirecTV and Viacom in their 10-day-long dispute over how much the former would pay to carry the latter's channels. DirecTV's announcement posits the settlement as a triumph over "bullying" by a programming provider. Viacom's announcement is more subdued. I myself am a DirecTV subscriber who frequently watches Comedy Central, one of Viacom's channels.
Commentary
I found many interesting aspects to this dispute and its resolution, but I'm going to start with the one that caused me to want to blog in the first place: the belligerents immediately removed all references to the dispute itself from not only their main websites, but the little ancillary ones each of them had set up just to rag on each other about it (this one for DirecTV, and this one for Viacom).
I was sad this information was gone, because I thought the tone each company took in defending its viewpoint might be indicative of their corporate culture, and I wanted to share them with you. Fortunately, the people over at Ping! Zine have been covering the story and have some characteristic quotes from each side here.
It's funny, in the past the two parties seemed to be taking the opposite positions of the ones they're using today. DirecTV generally spoke in measured tones. "We are negotiating." "We'll get this handled." "We're on your side." Viacom claimed to be on the consumer's side as well, but their rhetoric went more along the lines of, "DirecTV is run by greedy, lying bastards who want to take away your Spongebob!" In fact, I have to believe that one of the reasons Viacom took down their previous comments so quickly was because only yesterday they were saying, "DirecTV refuses to negotiate!" And yet a settlement was reached today. Magic, yes?
Perhaps I'm predisposed to take DirecTV's side. I've been generally happy with them as an entertainment provider, and I don't really feel like I have a relationship with Viacom. I like The Daily Show, but I associate that with Comedy Central and Jon Stewart, not Viacom. And of the other 16 channels that were in dispute (See, I even take DirecTV's word for that figure.), TV Land and Nick at Night are the only ones I watch, and those very rarely.
That being said, I really just liked DirecTV's approach to the whole conflict. I don't like scare tactics under the best of circumstances, and Viacom's making the loss of a few TV channels sound like a personal assault was just egregiously bad. It's more than that, though. From my perspective, disputes over money rarely have an ethically right or wrong side. If money's been stolen, or if one party is much more vulnerable, sure, but we're talking about two corporations arguing over how much money they were going to, let's face it, take from me. Best to make it sound like business, because that's all it was. So DirecTV's decision to use the emotionally charge "bullying" word today was disappointing. Ah well, at least I get my Daily Show back.
What did you see today?
This morning, an agreement was reached between DirecTV and Viacom in their 10-day-long dispute over how much the former would pay to carry the latter's channels. DirecTV's announcement posits the settlement as a triumph over "bullying" by a programming provider. Viacom's announcement is more subdued. I myself am a DirecTV subscriber who frequently watches Comedy Central, one of Viacom's channels.
Commentary
I found many interesting aspects to this dispute and its resolution, but I'm going to start with the one that caused me to want to blog in the first place: the belligerents immediately removed all references to the dispute itself from not only their main websites, but the little ancillary ones each of them had set up just to rag on each other about it (this one for DirecTV, and this one for Viacom).
I was sad this information was gone, because I thought the tone each company took in defending its viewpoint might be indicative of their corporate culture, and I wanted to share them with you. Fortunately, the people over at Ping! Zine have been covering the story and have some characteristic quotes from each side here.
It's funny, in the past the two parties seemed to be taking the opposite positions of the ones they're using today. DirecTV generally spoke in measured tones. "We are negotiating." "We'll get this handled." "We're on your side." Viacom claimed to be on the consumer's side as well, but their rhetoric went more along the lines of, "DirecTV is run by greedy, lying bastards who want to take away your Spongebob!" In fact, I have to believe that one of the reasons Viacom took down their previous comments so quickly was because only yesterday they were saying, "DirecTV refuses to negotiate!" And yet a settlement was reached today. Magic, yes?
Perhaps I'm predisposed to take DirecTV's side. I've been generally happy with them as an entertainment provider, and I don't really feel like I have a relationship with Viacom. I like The Daily Show, but I associate that with Comedy Central and Jon Stewart, not Viacom. And of the other 16 channels that were in dispute (See, I even take DirecTV's word for that figure.), TV Land and Nick at Night are the only ones I watch, and those very rarely.
That being said, I really just liked DirecTV's approach to the whole conflict. I don't like scare tactics under the best of circumstances, and Viacom's making the loss of a few TV channels sound like a personal assault was just egregiously bad. It's more than that, though. From my perspective, disputes over money rarely have an ethically right or wrong side. If money's been stolen, or if one party is much more vulnerable, sure, but we're talking about two corporations arguing over how much money they were going to, let's face it, take from me. Best to make it sound like business, because that's all it was. So DirecTV's decision to use the emotionally charge "bullying" word today was disappointing. Ah well, at least I get my Daily Show back.
What did you see today?
6/25/2012
I saw a cheesecake shot
Context
I'm at the annual meeting of the American Library Association this weekend. While walking the exhibit floor, I saw that one booth had a life-sized standee image (not a photograph) of a woman wearing what could only be generously called a g-string and bra. They had a science-fictiony look to them, almost like Batman's utility belt. I don't remember if the vendor was selling books or tech, two of the most common things to see at ALA.
Commentary
I've been to comic book conventions, math conventions, and library tech conventions, and the only ones I remember seeing a similar display to this one are the comic book ones. When I looked at this scantily-clad woman I thought, "Man, did their marketing department ever blow it!"
This has to do with the fact that the library profession is made up predominantly of women. Not entirely, and some of the women are lesbians, who might have found the woman attractive, but enough so that the vast majority of people passing the display would be annoyed or offended. What's worse, because of that general level of offense, the people who might actually find the image attractive would be embarrassed. I found myself wondering if the vendor managed to snag anyone at all.
The contrast between what works in a conference composed primarily of women and one composed primarily of men reminded me of the talk I had just attended by Dan Ariely, author of the new book The Honest Truth About Dishonesty: How We Lie to Everyone, Especially Ourselves. The book is mostly about cheating, but it seems like one of the things Ariely's research has uncovered applies to other mores and values as well: social context matters. So if you're a man in a convention hall surrounded by other men, you likely won't feel too self-conscious about ogling a pretty girl. Quite the opposite, in fact. But when you're the only guy walking around with five female colleagues? Very different standards of behavior apply, and as Ariely says, each of your actions in the different contexts will seem right to you, even if they appear contradictory to an outside observer.
I'm not saying there's anything wrong with displaying or looking at a picture of a sexy woman. I'm just saying it may not always be your best marketing tool.
What did you see today?
4/30/2012
I saw a 3000-word rejection letter
Context
Someone on Help a Reporter Out made reference to a 3000-word rejection letter that was on the internet as an example of something job recruiters shouldn't do. When I sought out the actual contents of this letter, I found them on Gawker, which also included comments from the recipient who forwarded the letter, and two catchy titles.
Commentary
OK, it's official. All of my inspiration comes from HARO now. Plus all that, I deliberately titled today's entry as search engine bait, because "3000 word rejection letter" has become an internet meme. I have lost all my morals.
Anyway, I was surprised at the amount of vitriol thrown at this this list of dos and don'ts from Shea Gunther. In particular, I don't understand the accusations of arrogance and condescension. Both of those terms imply to me, "This guy thinks he's better than his applicants." Perhaps I have too hierarchical a view of the world, but to me, the person who not only has a job but has a job to offer is, in fact, better than the applicants. At least in the job-hunting realm, which is where rejection letters come from. Moreover, I think we can all agree that Mr. Gunther is better at seeking employment than the people whom he apparently encountered who applied for a writing job without proofreading for spelling and punctuation!
I'd like to believe I would not have been offended if I had received this letter. After all, it's obvious from the first paragraph that it was sent to over 900 people. Which means that each of the criticisms contained in it belong to one of three categories:
1) Doesn't apply to me. Water off my back.
2) Might or does apply to me, but not something I want to change. Great, now I know I would not be a good fit at Shea Gunther's place of business.
3) Might or does apply to me, and I didn't know it was a problem. Yippee, something I can fix before my next round of job applications.
So where's the down side to any of these three scenarios?
Is it just considered rude to say, "Some of you are really bad at applying for jobs."? That can't be right, because career advice websites do it all the time. So then it looks like we're mad at Gunther because he actually has some interest in receiving good applications, as opposed to people who are spouting the same old cliches in order to create column inches.
Here's a scale of types of rejection letter I'd like to receive. OK, I don't like to receive any, but you know what I mean. From least-favorite to favorite:
1) Dead silence. Hello, is anybody there? Did you get my application? Does your company still exist?
2) Polite, meaningless form letter. By far the most common of rejections, it gives me no help whatsoever, except to know for sure I didn't get the job.
3) Something like what Shea Gunther wrote. It's like an extra 3000 words of job ad I can build on for the next time!
4) A personalized rejection saying exactly why I didn't get the job. This would be golden, but according to most human resource offices, also actionable. Isn't that great? Someone takes the time to tell me why it wasn't a good fit, and I sue them!
What did you see today?
Someone on Help a Reporter Out made reference to a 3000-word rejection letter that was on the internet as an example of something job recruiters shouldn't do. When I sought out the actual contents of this letter, I found them on Gawker, which also included comments from the recipient who forwarded the letter, and two catchy titles.
Commentary
OK, it's official. All of my inspiration comes from HARO now. Plus all that, I deliberately titled today's entry as search engine bait, because "3000 word rejection letter" has become an internet meme. I have lost all my morals.
Anyway, I was surprised at the amount of vitriol thrown at this this list of dos and don'ts from Shea Gunther. In particular, I don't understand the accusations of arrogance and condescension. Both of those terms imply to me, "This guy thinks he's better than his applicants." Perhaps I have too hierarchical a view of the world, but to me, the person who not only has a job but has a job to offer is, in fact, better than the applicants. At least in the job-hunting realm, which is where rejection letters come from. Moreover, I think we can all agree that Mr. Gunther is better at seeking employment than the people whom he apparently encountered who applied for a writing job without proofreading for spelling and punctuation!
I'd like to believe I would not have been offended if I had received this letter. After all, it's obvious from the first paragraph that it was sent to over 900 people. Which means that each of the criticisms contained in it belong to one of three categories:
1) Doesn't apply to me. Water off my back.
2) Might or does apply to me, but not something I want to change. Great, now I know I would not be a good fit at Shea Gunther's place of business.
3) Might or does apply to me, and I didn't know it was a problem. Yippee, something I can fix before my next round of job applications.
So where's the down side to any of these three scenarios?
Is it just considered rude to say, "Some of you are really bad at applying for jobs."? That can't be right, because career advice websites do it all the time. So then it looks like we're mad at Gunther because he actually has some interest in receiving good applications, as opposed to people who are spouting the same old cliches in order to create column inches.
Here's a scale of types of rejection letter I'd like to receive. OK, I don't like to receive any, but you know what I mean. From least-favorite to favorite:
1) Dead silence. Hello, is anybody there? Did you get my application? Does your company still exist?
2) Polite, meaningless form letter. By far the most common of rejections, it gives me no help whatsoever, except to know for sure I didn't get the job.
3) Something like what Shea Gunther wrote. It's like an extra 3000 words of job ad I can build on for the next time!
4) A personalized rejection saying exactly why I didn't get the job. This would be golden, but according to most human resource offices, also actionable. Isn't that great? Someone takes the time to tell me why it wasn't a good fit, and I sue them!
What did you see today?
4/27/2012
I saw a request for information
Context
Help A Reporter Out (HARO) had a query today that made me laugh out loud. When I've discussed HARO in the past, I've mentioned that they had a strict "no copying the query to your blog" rule, but that appears to have gone by the wayside. So here it is (author removed to protect the laughed-at):
I'm looking for a female podiatrist who can help readers understand how to wear heels without sacrificing long-term health. Note: This is not about telling readers NOT to wear heels. They can do whatever they want. We want to help them wear heels safely.
Commentary
It's the second-to-last sentence that did me in. The way the writer jumps to the defense of her reader's personal liberty is both heartwarming and technically true. They can, in fact, do whatever they want. If I want I can drive at 90 miles per hour through rush hour traffic. There's not really much advice you can give me that will help me do it safely, though.
What the reporter is up against is a sad part of reality: facts do not yield to principles. Freedom of choice is something worth fighting for, but you can't use it as a bludgeon against biological processes like joint and bone breakdown. OK, it's just a story about wearing high heels, and although doing so regularly will cause long-term damage (Look, I'm not even a podiatrist and I said it!), it's not that big a deal right? Probably not, but acting as if belief can defeat reality can have truly terrifying consequences.
Randy Shilts wrote an excellent book about the beginning of the AIDS epidemic called And the Band Played On. In it he talks about how often proper health precautions were not taken because no one wanted to violate gay men's civil rights by suggesting their sexual practices were a vector for spreading the disease. Even though they were. And they were killing each other in numbers that would have made the Nazis proud. You should read the whole book, but if you want just one concentrated example of what I'm talking about, take a look at the entries for January 3, 1983 (The book goes in chronological order).
I can understand why we do this. I too have principles I like to live by. People shouldn't get mad at me when I tell the truth. I should be able to walk unmolested down any street I please. The animals who live in my house should do what I say, because I have their best interests in mind. The facts, however, do not yield.
We can choose to ignore this bit of unpleasantness, sticking to our principles and ignoring all inconvenient truths, or at least being really annoyed by them. Or we can abandon principle, being tempest-tossed by every new piece of information that comes along, whether it be a new diet or the latest management technique, and not the slightest bit worried that nothing we say or do can be counted on for more than twenty minutes.
But I think there's a middle road, one that recognizes that what we're really talking about is competing principles and we can choose between them according to our desires and values. You can believe both that high-heeled shoes are an important piece of professional attire and that it's important to take good care of your feet. My doctor does, after all. She's wearing her high heels every time I come into her office and every time we discuss them, she mentions the dangers inherent in doing so. Because she's made an informed choice. Now there's a principle I can get behind!
What did you see today?
Help A Reporter Out (HARO) had a query today that made me laugh out loud. When I've discussed HARO in the past, I've mentioned that they had a strict "no copying the query to your blog" rule, but that appears to have gone by the wayside. So here it is (author removed to protect the laughed-at):
I'm looking for a female podiatrist who can help readers understand how to wear heels without sacrificing long-term health. Note: This is not about telling readers NOT to wear heels. They can do whatever they want. We want to help them wear heels safely.
Commentary
It's the second-to-last sentence that did me in. The way the writer jumps to the defense of her reader's personal liberty is both heartwarming and technically true. They can, in fact, do whatever they want. If I want I can drive at 90 miles per hour through rush hour traffic. There's not really much advice you can give me that will help me do it safely, though.
What the reporter is up against is a sad part of reality: facts do not yield to principles. Freedom of choice is something worth fighting for, but you can't use it as a bludgeon against biological processes like joint and bone breakdown. OK, it's just a story about wearing high heels, and although doing so regularly will cause long-term damage (Look, I'm not even a podiatrist and I said it!), it's not that big a deal right? Probably not, but acting as if belief can defeat reality can have truly terrifying consequences.
Randy Shilts wrote an excellent book about the beginning of the AIDS epidemic called And the Band Played On. In it he talks about how often proper health precautions were not taken because no one wanted to violate gay men's civil rights by suggesting their sexual practices were a vector for spreading the disease. Even though they were. And they were killing each other in numbers that would have made the Nazis proud. You should read the whole book, but if you want just one concentrated example of what I'm talking about, take a look at the entries for January 3, 1983 (The book goes in chronological order).
I can understand why we do this. I too have principles I like to live by. People shouldn't get mad at me when I tell the truth. I should be able to walk unmolested down any street I please. The animals who live in my house should do what I say, because I have their best interests in mind. The facts, however, do not yield.
We can choose to ignore this bit of unpleasantness, sticking to our principles and ignoring all inconvenient truths, or at least being really annoyed by them. Or we can abandon principle, being tempest-tossed by every new piece of information that comes along, whether it be a new diet or the latest management technique, and not the slightest bit worried that nothing we say or do can be counted on for more than twenty minutes.
But I think there's a middle road, one that recognizes that what we're really talking about is competing principles and we can choose between them according to our desires and values. You can believe both that high-heeled shoes are an important piece of professional attire and that it's important to take good care of your feet. My doctor does, after all. She's wearing her high heels every time I come into her office and every time we discuss them, she mentions the dangers inherent in doing so. Because she's made an informed choice. Now there's a principle I can get behind!
What did you see today?
4/26/2012
I saw a discussion about validity
Context
Slate magazine often runs a feature whereby they will have one or more participants weigh in on a piece of pop culture. Currently Katie Allison Granju is debating Hanna Rosin on the Elisabeth Badinter book The Conflict: How Modern Motherhood Undermines the Status of Women. Over her past couple of entries, Granju has focused on how Badinter's financial interest in Nestle's PR company disqualifies her from taking a position on breastfeeding, snce Nestle is a multinational manufacturer of infant formula. Here is a paragraph from today's entry:
"So how can anyone take anything Elisabeth Badinter has to say on the topic of infant-maternal nutrition seriously? Her ethical conflict is so enormous, and her motives so glaringly questionable, that her position on the topic ultimately doesn’t even matter. There’s just no way to get past who it is making the argument. It’s as if the Board Chairman for American Beef Association’s publicist released a book criticizing Americans’ “naturalist” eating habits, and vegetarianism in particular. It wouldn’t matter if she had a Ph.D. in nutrition from Harvard or a history of bashing vegetarianism. It also wouldn’t matter if her book were well argued and persuasive. The very idea of someone in that position writing such a book would be laughable."
Commentary
There is a saying in American politics, and maybe elsewhere as well: "If you can't attack the message, attack the messenger." With that in mind, I'm forced to disagree with Ms. Granju. It always matters if a book, or any statement of opinion for that matter, is well argued and persuasive. I have no problem with accounting for someone's character, personal history and economic ties when evaluating an argument, but if those are the only criteria you use, I think you'll miss out on some good stuff. I personally thought the late Christopher Hitchens was an execrable human being, but man could he write stuff!
I also think this critique fails to allow for the possibility that Badinter might be taking a principled position in both the economic and philosophical spheres. If one truly believes in the legitimate uses of baby formula to free up women's time, why wouldn't you invest in Nestle's publicist and even Nestle itself? Are we supposed to expect hypocrisy and cynical self-interest instead, where no one actually puts their money where their mouth is? Wouldn't that be a bigger "ethical conflict?"
So, to sum up, I don't think a well-researched book written by a PhD in nutrition on the evils of vegetarianism would be laughable, even if it was written by someone employed by the American Beef Association. I like to gather as many reasoned opinions as I can. I'm about done with the Slate series, though. I think the conversation has gone about one entry past "reasoned."
What did you see today?
Slate magazine often runs a feature whereby they will have one or more participants weigh in on a piece of pop culture. Currently Katie Allison Granju is debating Hanna Rosin on the Elisabeth Badinter book The Conflict: How Modern Motherhood Undermines the Status of Women. Over her past couple of entries, Granju has focused on how Badinter's financial interest in Nestle's PR company disqualifies her from taking a position on breastfeeding, snce Nestle is a multinational manufacturer of infant formula. Here is a paragraph from today's entry:
"So how can anyone take anything Elisabeth Badinter has to say on the topic of infant-maternal nutrition seriously? Her ethical conflict is so enormous, and her motives so glaringly questionable, that her position on the topic ultimately doesn’t even matter. There’s just no way to get past who it is making the argument. It’s as if the Board Chairman for American Beef Association’s publicist released a book criticizing Americans’ “naturalist” eating habits, and vegetarianism in particular. It wouldn’t matter if she had a Ph.D. in nutrition from Harvard or a history of bashing vegetarianism. It also wouldn’t matter if her book were well argued and persuasive. The very idea of someone in that position writing such a book would be laughable."
Commentary
There is a saying in American politics, and maybe elsewhere as well: "If you can't attack the message, attack the messenger." With that in mind, I'm forced to disagree with Ms. Granju. It always matters if a book, or any statement of opinion for that matter, is well argued and persuasive. I have no problem with accounting for someone's character, personal history and economic ties when evaluating an argument, but if those are the only criteria you use, I think you'll miss out on some good stuff. I personally thought the late Christopher Hitchens was an execrable human being, but man could he write stuff!
I also think this critique fails to allow for the possibility that Badinter might be taking a principled position in both the economic and philosophical spheres. If one truly believes in the legitimate uses of baby formula to free up women's time, why wouldn't you invest in Nestle's publicist and even Nestle itself? Are we supposed to expect hypocrisy and cynical self-interest instead, where no one actually puts their money where their mouth is? Wouldn't that be a bigger "ethical conflict?"
So, to sum up, I don't think a well-researched book written by a PhD in nutrition on the evils of vegetarianism would be laughable, even if it was written by someone employed by the American Beef Association. I like to gather as many reasoned opinions as I can. I'm about done with the Slate series, though. I think the conversation has gone about one entry past "reasoned."
What did you see today?
5/14/2011
I heard someone apologize
Context
In a meeting today, the director of my library apologized for an administrative failure. After he did so, I heard a couple of people behind me murmuring things like, “Don’t apologize!” and “This was going on long before he got here.”
Commentary
This is actually my entry for 5/12/10, but Blogger was down that day.
I’m a strong believer in the Quaker testimony on integrity. Your “yes” should be a yes, and your “no,” a no. People ought to be able to believe in what you say.
A consequence of this is I get annoyed if people don’t believe what I say. If I say I’m sorry, I’m not trying to smooth things over or gain sympathy; I did wrong and I want to express regret about it. Moreover, I think that minimizing my apology minimizes my autonomy, implying that I'm not really responsible for the things I do. I feel it's only fair to warn you: you don't want to get between me and my autonomy.
I also tend to take a transactional view of human interactions. I say, "Thank you;" you say, "You're welcome." You ask me if I want something; I say, "No, thank you;" you don't give it to me, and we both go on with our lives.
Brushing off an apology, rather than accepting it, short-circuits the transaction. A person lets me know I've done something wrong, I apologize, then the person says, essentially, "Oh, don't worry about it." Then, what? The transgression just hangs out there forever? Or am I supposed to forget you said anything? Then why did you say anything? I'm trying to take responsibility for the bad thing I did; are you refusing to take responsibility for having brought it up?
I know, I'm reading way too much into something people do to be polite. But that brings us back to the integrity thing again. The stuff you say, complaints, apologies, declarations of affection and gratitude, should not be just empty words, they should mean something. Or don't waste your breath and my time.
What did you see today?
In a meeting today, the director of my library apologized for an administrative failure. After he did so, I heard a couple of people behind me murmuring things like, “Don’t apologize!” and “This was going on long before he got here.”
Commentary
This is actually my entry for 5/12/10, but Blogger was down that day.
I’m a strong believer in the Quaker testimony on integrity. Your “yes” should be a yes, and your “no,” a no. People ought to be able to believe in what you say.
A consequence of this is I get annoyed if people don’t believe what I say. If I say I’m sorry, I’m not trying to smooth things over or gain sympathy; I did wrong and I want to express regret about it. Moreover, I think that minimizing my apology minimizes my autonomy, implying that I'm not really responsible for the things I do. I feel it's only fair to warn you: you don't want to get between me and my autonomy.
I also tend to take a transactional view of human interactions. I say, "Thank you;" you say, "You're welcome." You ask me if I want something; I say, "No, thank you;" you don't give it to me, and we both go on with our lives.
Brushing off an apology, rather than accepting it, short-circuits the transaction. A person lets me know I've done something wrong, I apologize, then the person says, essentially, "Oh, don't worry about it." Then, what? The transgression just hangs out there forever? Or am I supposed to forget you said anything? Then why did you say anything? I'm trying to take responsibility for the bad thing I did; are you refusing to take responsibility for having brought it up?
I know, I'm reading way too much into something people do to be polite. But that brings us back to the integrity thing again. The stuff you say, complaints, apologies, declarations of affection and gratitude, should not be just empty words, they should mean something. Or don't waste your breath and my time.
What did you see today?
4/06/2011
I saw an explanation of Google's success
Context
I'm reading Jeff Jarvis's What Would Google Do? As you might discern from the title, this is a book analyzing Google's business success and suggesting what other businesses could do to emulate them. According to Jarvis, one of Google's chief strength is its ability to leverage communities and their data to deliver outstanding advertising packages.
Commentary
As I told my husband, What Would Google Do? is a palette cleanser after having read Andrew Keen's The Cult of the Amateur: how today's internet is killing our culture. It's funny, before I started I would've sworn I had much more in common with Kenn's viewpoint than Jarvis's, but I found The Cult of the Amateur to be a nearly unreadable elitist screed, while What Would Google Do? is a well-reasoned, thought-provoking treatise.
Not that I agree with all of it. I understand that Google has revolutionized advertising and made it, for perhaps the first time, a viable way to make money off the internet. However, I'd like to point out two things about advertising:
1) It's annoying. In fact, I think I can make a case that Google's famous "Don't be evil" motto is violated every time they run an ad.
2) It's hard to do well. I'm on the internet a lot, because I use it a lot for my work. I see a lot of internet advertising, and most of it is bad. Here's what I define as bad internet advertising:
1) It advertises something I would never buy, like life insurance.
2) If I did ever consider buying the type of product or service advertised, I wouldn't pick this particular one, because the content of the ad seems untrustworthy.
3) The advertiser seems to be trying to distract me from #2 by using cheesy, distracting graphics (shocked babies, dancing women, etc.). Apparently, some of them use sound as well, but my work computer is always muted, so I'm spared that.
The ads that appear on Google itself may fit #1 and #2, but never #3, so I'll give them credit for that. But the prevalence of ads on other sites that do fulfill all three make me question whether "becoming a node for advertising" is the panacea Jarvis seems to think it is.
In fact, it can backfire badly: when I'm on a website, if it has the 1-2-3 punch of bad advertising, there's a good chance I'll think the site itself is disreputable or failing economically even if I like the editorial content. If I decide to not visit anymore, the advertising has hurt the site's long-term bottom line while giving it a short-term injection of cash. Everyone can be harmed by their company they keep. Even Google.
What did you see today?
I'm reading Jeff Jarvis's What Would Google Do? As you might discern from the title, this is a book analyzing Google's business success and suggesting what other businesses could do to emulate them. According to Jarvis, one of Google's chief strength is its ability to leverage communities and their data to deliver outstanding advertising packages.
Commentary
As I told my husband, What Would Google Do? is a palette cleanser after having read Andrew Keen's The Cult of the Amateur: how today's internet is killing our culture. It's funny, before I started I would've sworn I had much more in common with Kenn's viewpoint than Jarvis's, but I found The Cult of the Amateur to be a nearly unreadable elitist screed, while What Would Google Do? is a well-reasoned, thought-provoking treatise.
Not that I agree with all of it. I understand that Google has revolutionized advertising and made it, for perhaps the first time, a viable way to make money off the internet. However, I'd like to point out two things about advertising:
1) It's annoying. In fact, I think I can make a case that Google's famous "Don't be evil" motto is violated every time they run an ad.
2) It's hard to do well. I'm on the internet a lot, because I use it a lot for my work. I see a lot of internet advertising, and most of it is bad. Here's what I define as bad internet advertising:
1) It advertises something I would never buy, like life insurance.
2) If I did ever consider buying the type of product or service advertised, I wouldn't pick this particular one, because the content of the ad seems untrustworthy.
3) The advertiser seems to be trying to distract me from #2 by using cheesy, distracting graphics (shocked babies, dancing women, etc.). Apparently, some of them use sound as well, but my work computer is always muted, so I'm spared that.
The ads that appear on Google itself may fit #1 and #2, but never #3, so I'll give them credit for that. But the prevalence of ads on other sites that do fulfill all three make me question whether "becoming a node for advertising" is the panacea Jarvis seems to think it is.
In fact, it can backfire badly: when I'm on a website, if it has the 1-2-3 punch of bad advertising, there's a good chance I'll think the site itself is disreputable or failing economically even if I like the editorial content. If I decide to not visit anymore, the advertising has hurt the site's long-term bottom line while giving it a short-term injection of cash. Everyone can be harmed by their company they keep. Even Google.
What did you see today?
2/20/2011
I saw an article about banking policy
Context
I ran across this article in the Shreveport Times this morning about the Federal Reserve and Congress trying to determine the best method for regulating debit card fees, as mandated by last year's financial overhaul bill. The difficulty appears to be in getting merchants and banks to share the pain equitably.
Commentary
As far as I can tell from the article, the banks are saying they shouldn't be limited on how much they charge merchants for debit card swipes because they play an important role in the economic recovery effort and merchants are saying they need a break on these fees because they play an important role in the economic recovery effort. Taking this bait, federal officials seem to be trying to decide which of the two factions' role is more important. I think this approach is wrongheaded because both the merchants and the banks make compelling cases in this regard.
Here's another thing both parties are doing: they're trying desperately to hide these fees from the consumer. The merchants are saying when they pay high debit card swipe fees, they have to either charge customers more for goods, which may lose them customers, or cut their profit margins, which means cutting jobs. Bankers say if they have to cover the costs of fraud protection, etc. themselves, they'll have to eliminate free checking accounts which, you guessed it, may lose them customers. Neither seems to want to say directly to the consumer, "The convenience of using a debit card at the grocery store has a cost; please pay it."
Ellen Ruppel Shell, in her excellent book Cheap: the high cost of discount culture, says this is a common problem in our current culture: we have become so obsessed with "getting a good deal" that no one wants to pay the fair price for anything. Shell mostly talks about how we ignore substandard goods and/or substandard working conditions in order to fuel this overriding need, but I think the paradigm applies to other situations as well.
So I would like to propose that we take the honest approach: the Federal Reserve should determine how much a debit card swipe at a merchant costs and the banks should charge the consumers that amount per swipe. Then we could actually make (Gasp!) informed decisions about whether the convenience is worth that price instead of everybody trying to fool each other about what's going on.
What did you see today?
I ran across this article in the Shreveport Times this morning about the Federal Reserve and Congress trying to determine the best method for regulating debit card fees, as mandated by last year's financial overhaul bill. The difficulty appears to be in getting merchants and banks to share the pain equitably.
Commentary
As far as I can tell from the article, the banks are saying they shouldn't be limited on how much they charge merchants for debit card swipes because they play an important role in the economic recovery effort and merchants are saying they need a break on these fees because they play an important role in the economic recovery effort. Taking this bait, federal officials seem to be trying to decide which of the two factions' role is more important. I think this approach is wrongheaded because both the merchants and the banks make compelling cases in this regard.
Here's another thing both parties are doing: they're trying desperately to hide these fees from the consumer. The merchants are saying when they pay high debit card swipe fees, they have to either charge customers more for goods, which may lose them customers, or cut their profit margins, which means cutting jobs. Bankers say if they have to cover the costs of fraud protection, etc. themselves, they'll have to eliminate free checking accounts which, you guessed it, may lose them customers. Neither seems to want to say directly to the consumer, "The convenience of using a debit card at the grocery store has a cost; please pay it."
Ellen Ruppel Shell, in her excellent book Cheap: the high cost of discount culture, says this is a common problem in our current culture: we have become so obsessed with "getting a good deal" that no one wants to pay the fair price for anything. Shell mostly talks about how we ignore substandard goods and/or substandard working conditions in order to fuel this overriding need, but I think the paradigm applies to other situations as well.
So I would like to propose that we take the honest approach: the Federal Reserve should determine how much a debit card swipe at a merchant costs and the banks should charge the consumers that amount per swipe. Then we could actually make (Gasp!) informed decisions about whether the convenience is worth that price instead of everybody trying to fool each other about what's going on.
What did you see today?
2/15/2011
I saw responses to unwelcome opinions
Context
Today I saw two similar things in different places. First on PUBLIB, an e-mail list for public librarians, I saw a series of inflammatory posts (one example here, but you can find others if you browse the February entries by the same author, Matthew Price), followed by some equally inflammatory responses and several well-considered ones, including this one by Robert Baillot. Then on Slashdot, I saw another discussion initiated by quoting Glenn Beck in one of his more outrageous moods and evolving into a metadiscussion of how to respond to outrageous opinions. By the way, that last link is a little tricky. You may have to do some collapsing and expanding of comments to see what I'm talking about.
Commentary
Almost since the inception of the internet, people have been using it to exchange opinions. And almost since the start of that activity, there have been trolls, which are defined as people who take an inflammatory stand just for the sake of being inflammatory, not because they actually believe it. The perception is that trolls get off on attention or on getting people upset because they think it makes them superior.
The conventional wisdom about this phenomenon is "Don't feed the trolls," i.e. don't encourage their bad behavior by responding, but I was intrigued by the two responses I saw that seemed to fly in the face of that. "Ephemeriis" takes a civic responsibility approach, saying that since Glenn Beck is taken seriously in some quarters, the opposition is obligated to craft a serious rebuttal. Robert Balliot goes him one better by quoting Aristotle to make the point that every idea deserves consideration, even the rantings of a troll.
These responses are challenging to me. I often believe in operant conditioning, or at least the principle I learned from my mother: "If you ignore someone, he'll go away." But is getting someone to go away really my goal? Or is it engagement, where I continue to grapple with the people who drive me crazy in the belief that the God who loves all of us might be trying to tell me something?
What did you see today?
Today I saw two similar things in different places. First on PUBLIB, an e-mail list for public librarians, I saw a series of inflammatory posts (one example here, but you can find others if you browse the February entries by the same author, Matthew Price), followed by some equally inflammatory responses and several well-considered ones, including this one by Robert Baillot. Then on Slashdot, I saw another discussion initiated by quoting Glenn Beck in one of his more outrageous moods and evolving into a metadiscussion of how to respond to outrageous opinions. By the way, that last link is a little tricky. You may have to do some collapsing and expanding of comments to see what I'm talking about.
Commentary
Almost since the inception of the internet, people have been using it to exchange opinions. And almost since the start of that activity, there have been trolls, which are defined as people who take an inflammatory stand just for the sake of being inflammatory, not because they actually believe it. The perception is that trolls get off on attention or on getting people upset because they think it makes them superior.
The conventional wisdom about this phenomenon is "Don't feed the trolls," i.e. don't encourage their bad behavior by responding, but I was intrigued by the two responses I saw that seemed to fly in the face of that. "Ephemeriis" takes a civic responsibility approach, saying that since Glenn Beck is taken seriously in some quarters, the opposition is obligated to craft a serious rebuttal. Robert Balliot goes him one better by quoting Aristotle to make the point that every idea deserves consideration, even the rantings of a troll.
These responses are challenging to me. I often believe in operant conditioning, or at least the principle I learned from my mother: "If you ignore someone, he'll go away." But is getting someone to go away really my goal? Or is it engagement, where I continue to grapple with the people who drive me crazy in the belief that the God who loves all of us might be trying to tell me something?
What did you see today?
2/02/2011
I saw an obituary
Context
As mentioned earlier I got my B.A. from Rice University. I received an alumni e-mail today that contained a link to this media page on the university website, containing obituaries for two young men who died over the winter break. The cause of death was only listed for one of them, Brandon Cook. After a local media search on the other, Dexter Gannon, I learned his death was ruled a suicide.
Commentary
Suicide was a touchy subject while I was at Rice. There was a widely-held perception that at some times in its history, Rice's emphasis on academic achievement had led to an unhealthy hypercompetitiveness and, in its turn, a high suicide rate. During my undergraduate years, the administration sought to fight this trend by keeping both the scholarship standards and the level of emotional support high. They also blocked off student access to the balcony of the bell tower.
So why did they keep mum about the cause of Dexter Gannon's death twenty-five years later? I suppose you could argue that it was to save his loved ones pain, but that seems flimsy, given that his loved ones presumably knew about the coroner's ruling.
Another explanation might be that Rice wanted to save ether the family or itself embarrassment. I find this idea disturbing, as I would like us to get to a point in our culture where we no longer consider mental difficulties shameful.
Regardless, I think it was a bad decision. I don't think covering up the tragic aspects of life really helps anyone. I believe light and air are far better cures for what ails us. After all, the It Gets Better project was started in the wake of gay teen suicides. But we had to talk about the suicides first.
What did you see today?
As mentioned earlier I got my B.A. from Rice University. I received an alumni e-mail today that contained a link to this media page on the university website, containing obituaries for two young men who died over the winter break. The cause of death was only listed for one of them, Brandon Cook. After a local media search on the other, Dexter Gannon, I learned his death was ruled a suicide.
Commentary
Suicide was a touchy subject while I was at Rice. There was a widely-held perception that at some times in its history, Rice's emphasis on academic achievement had led to an unhealthy hypercompetitiveness and, in its turn, a high suicide rate. During my undergraduate years, the administration sought to fight this trend by keeping both the scholarship standards and the level of emotional support high. They also blocked off student access to the balcony of the bell tower.
So why did they keep mum about the cause of Dexter Gannon's death twenty-five years later? I suppose you could argue that it was to save his loved ones pain, but that seems flimsy, given that his loved ones presumably knew about the coroner's ruling.
Another explanation might be that Rice wanted to save ether the family or itself embarrassment. I find this idea disturbing, as I would like us to get to a point in our culture where we no longer consider mental difficulties shameful.
Regardless, I think it was a bad decision. I don't think covering up the tragic aspects of life really helps anyone. I believe light and air are far better cures for what ails us. After all, the It Gets Better project was started in the wake of gay teen suicides. But we had to talk about the suicides first.
What did you see today?
12/16/2010
I saw an icon on my desktop
Context
I was sending material to the consultant who's setting up an intranet for Shreve Memorial today. While I was working, I happened to notice the icon for editing the library's new website that I put on my desktop a few days ago.
Commentary
OK, I know, "Way to put nothing useful in the Context, Lynn!" The reason the juxtaposition above struck me as interesting is that I was not entirely happy about the way either our website or our intranet was set up. Yet here I was, happily contributing to both of them now that they are faits accompli. That's pretty much normal for me; once a decision is made I prefer to deal with the new reality rather than stewing or sulking. I'm not passive-aggressive, in other words. Aggressive-aggressive, but not passive-aggressive.
So does that mean I cave when I lose an argument? Maybe. For me it just means acknowledging the argument is in fact lost, that I can see things not go my way and I don't have to spend an inordinate amount of time trying to reset the universe. Plus it doesn't seem weak to me; it seems empowering. A decision gets made; I don't agree with it; I then get to make my own decision whether to adapt, fight openly, or leave, all of which sound more productive to me than denial or sabotage.
Frankly, sometimes my flexibility in accommodating different viewpoints feels like a great intellectual and/or spiritual achievement to me. And yes, sometimes I go along with a new procedure just so I can be around to see how spectacularly it'll fail. So maybe I'm a little passive-aggressive.
What did you see today?
I was sending material to the consultant who's setting up an intranet for Shreve Memorial today. While I was working, I happened to notice the icon for editing the library's new website that I put on my desktop a few days ago.
Commentary
OK, I know, "Way to put nothing useful in the Context, Lynn!" The reason the juxtaposition above struck me as interesting is that I was not entirely happy about the way either our website or our intranet was set up. Yet here I was, happily contributing to both of them now that they are faits accompli. That's pretty much normal for me; once a decision is made I prefer to deal with the new reality rather than stewing or sulking. I'm not passive-aggressive, in other words. Aggressive-aggressive, but not passive-aggressive.
So does that mean I cave when I lose an argument? Maybe. For me it just means acknowledging the argument is in fact lost, that I can see things not go my way and I don't have to spend an inordinate amount of time trying to reset the universe. Plus it doesn't seem weak to me; it seems empowering. A decision gets made; I don't agree with it; I then get to make my own decision whether to adapt, fight openly, or leave, all of which sound more productive to me than denial or sabotage.
Frankly, sometimes my flexibility in accommodating different viewpoints feels like a great intellectual and/or spiritual achievement to me. And yes, sometimes I go along with a new procedure just so I can be around to see how spectacularly it'll fail. So maybe I'm a little passive-aggressive.
What did you see today?
11/10/2010
I saw a description of groupings
Context
I read Andrew Sullivan's article about the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear on The Atlantic's website today. In it, he mentions that although we have three major political groups in the United States (Republicans, Democrats and Independents), we also have three cultural one (idealogues, pragmatists, and the totally indifferent).
Commentary
At first I thought I liked the idea of cultural groupings as opposed to political ones because I don't really fit comfortably into a Republican, Democratic, or Independent box. I mean, I usually self-identify as Independent, but as Inigo Montoya would say, "I don't think that word means what you think it means."
"Independent" for me does not imply "centrist," but rather "left of Democratic." I often vote Democrat, but I'll be danged if I'll call myself one! And if I'm completely honest, I have to say I'm sometimes to the right of the average Democrat as well, especially when it comes to intellectual freedom.
On the other hand, I don't really belong exclusively to an idealistic, pragmatic or indifferent culture either. I'm generally pragmatic, but when it comes to certain bedrock principles (peace, integrity, equality, simplicity), I can be just as dogmatic as the next person. And there are some political issues I'm not interested in. Local elections in Shreveport often revolve around code enforcement. I try to care, but I really don't.
No, I think what attracts me to the cultural groupings described by Sullivan is not that they describe me better, but that they seem to allow for a lot more flexibility in our political dialogue. Maybe I'm being all too pragmatic, but doesn't it seem like things would go better if we could just acknowledge these different characteristics in each other?
Try this on for size: "Oh, that's an issue that's of deep personal concern to you and my treating it clinically is not helpful. Go ahead and tell me about your passion and I'll listen because I care about you as a person."
Or maybe: "I can see you're not as vested in this problem as I am, so I won't waste time for both of us trying to bring you over to my side."
Even: "No, I wouldn't dream of calling you a RINO because your interests are different from mine. That would be rude."
What did you see today?
I read Andrew Sullivan's article about the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear on The Atlantic's website today. In it, he mentions that although we have three major political groups in the United States (Republicans, Democrats and Independents), we also have three cultural one (idealogues, pragmatists, and the totally indifferent).
Commentary
At first I thought I liked the idea of cultural groupings as opposed to political ones because I don't really fit comfortably into a Republican, Democratic, or Independent box. I mean, I usually self-identify as Independent, but as Inigo Montoya would say, "I don't think that word means what you think it means."
"Independent" for me does not imply "centrist," but rather "left of Democratic." I often vote Democrat, but I'll be danged if I'll call myself one! And if I'm completely honest, I have to say I'm sometimes to the right of the average Democrat as well, especially when it comes to intellectual freedom.
On the other hand, I don't really belong exclusively to an idealistic, pragmatic or indifferent culture either. I'm generally pragmatic, but when it comes to certain bedrock principles (peace, integrity, equality, simplicity), I can be just as dogmatic as the next person. And there are some political issues I'm not interested in. Local elections in Shreveport often revolve around code enforcement. I try to care, but I really don't.
No, I think what attracts me to the cultural groupings described by Sullivan is not that they describe me better, but that they seem to allow for a lot more flexibility in our political dialogue. Maybe I'm being all too pragmatic, but doesn't it seem like things would go better if we could just acknowledge these different characteristics in each other?
Try this on for size: "Oh, that's an issue that's of deep personal concern to you and my treating it clinically is not helpful. Go ahead and tell me about your passion and I'll listen because I care about you as a person."
Or maybe: "I can see you're not as vested in this problem as I am, so I won't waste time for both of us trying to bring you over to my side."
Even: "No, I wouldn't dream of calling you a RINO because your interests are different from mine. That would be rude."
What did you see today?
8/13/2010
I saw a contradiction
Context
I am currently reading Acres of Diamonds, a speech given by Russell Conwell, the founder of Temple University. I'm reading it in book form, and on page 41, Conwell tells a story about John Jacob Astor's success coming in small part because when he owned a hat shop, he only sold bonnets copied from ones he had seen contented ladies wearing. Then, on page 47, Conwell talks about how important great inventors are in a capitalist society.
Commentary
Acres of Diamonds is a polemic extolling the virtues of making money, almost to the exclusion of all else, so I'm probably predisposed to pick it apart. It was funny though, I read the Astor story and said to myself, "So Conwell is saying innovation is bad." Then I got to page 47 and thought, "Unless it's a successful innovation that makes money. Then he's saying it's good!"
I think this odd juxtaposition struck me harder because earlier this week I was in a two-day workshop where I thought the consultant contradicted herself repeatedly. In fact, there were enough instances that I thought I could develop a pretty good drinking game based on them, but you know how punchy you get at these things.
Anyway, these two sets of circumstances got me thinking about why people contradict themselves and why we as listeners sometimes don't notice. I came up with two reasons:
1) Someone is presenting so much information that contradictions kind of creep in unnoticed. I think this is applicable not only to Conwell, who seemed to want to say everything good about capitalism at once and the consultant, who was trying to fit a great deal of material about library planning into two days, but also the world in general these days, where so much information is available that it's hard to take a moment and realize that "A" cannot exist in the same universe as "B." I think we should pay attention if this is happening, and you can count on The Daily Show to point out as many of them as they can get their hands on, but morally the phenomenon is pretty benign.
2) Someone is so intent on making a point that they will use whatever arguments are at hand, even if they make no logical sense. This is not so benign and nearly impossible to combat. It is the argument that starts with, "We know President Obama is not a citizen because he can't produce a birth certificate," then decides to cover all bases with, "The birth certificate President Obama has showed people is falsified."
My concerns about #2 are, I think, why I'm picky about internal contradictions in a presentation. If you're trying to convince me of something, I want all your arguments to line up and make sense. Otherwise, I just think you're trying to sell me something.
What did you see today?
I am currently reading Acres of Diamonds, a speech given by Russell Conwell, the founder of Temple University. I'm reading it in book form, and on page 41, Conwell tells a story about John Jacob Astor's success coming in small part because when he owned a hat shop, he only sold bonnets copied from ones he had seen contented ladies wearing. Then, on page 47, Conwell talks about how important great inventors are in a capitalist society.
Commentary
Acres of Diamonds is a polemic extolling the virtues of making money, almost to the exclusion of all else, so I'm probably predisposed to pick it apart. It was funny though, I read the Astor story and said to myself, "So Conwell is saying innovation is bad." Then I got to page 47 and thought, "Unless it's a successful innovation that makes money. Then he's saying it's good!"
I think this odd juxtaposition struck me harder because earlier this week I was in a two-day workshop where I thought the consultant contradicted herself repeatedly. In fact, there were enough instances that I thought I could develop a pretty good drinking game based on them, but you know how punchy you get at these things.
Anyway, these two sets of circumstances got me thinking about why people contradict themselves and why we as listeners sometimes don't notice. I came up with two reasons:
1) Someone is presenting so much information that contradictions kind of creep in unnoticed. I think this is applicable not only to Conwell, who seemed to want to say everything good about capitalism at once and the consultant, who was trying to fit a great deal of material about library planning into two days, but also the world in general these days, where so much information is available that it's hard to take a moment and realize that "A" cannot exist in the same universe as "B." I think we should pay attention if this is happening, and you can count on The Daily Show to point out as many of them as they can get their hands on, but morally the phenomenon is pretty benign.
2) Someone is so intent on making a point that they will use whatever arguments are at hand, even if they make no logical sense. This is not so benign and nearly impossible to combat. It is the argument that starts with, "We know President Obama is not a citizen because he can't produce a birth certificate," then decides to cover all bases with, "The birth certificate President Obama has showed people is falsified."
My concerns about #2 are, I think, why I'm picky about internal contradictions in a presentation. If you're trying to convince me of something, I want all your arguments to line up and make sense. Otherwise, I just think you're trying to sell me something.
What did you see today?
6/30/2010
I saw an underweight coworker
Context
One of my coworkers at the library was overweight when he first got his job. He then went on the paleolithic diet. He got down to a healthy weight and kept on going, so now he is too thin for his large frame. My relationship with this young man is cordial but not close.
Commentary
Actually, "cordial but not close" is pretty much what I go for in all my relationships. I mean, I'm married and I have family and a couple of close friends, but in general I don't bond tightly with other human beings.
And therein lies a problem. I'm concerned about my coworker. He may be ill, but given his personality (he strikes me as someone who sees things very much in black and white) I'm concerned he may be anorexic. But I'm nowhere near close enough to him to ask him about it.
Closeness is not the only issue. Current etiquette dictates that we don't make casual comments on appearance in the workplace, as doing so risks a charge of unprofessionalism or outright harassment. And in society at large we generally don't talk about a person's weight at all. Remember, the only time you should ask a woman if she's pregnant is when you see a baby emerging from her womb. I guess the reason behind this is that we are expected to be hypersensitive about our weight, and if my coworker really does have an eating disorder the last thing I want to do is promote hypersensitivity.
But is the only alternative to say nothing at all? To, in fact, have my eyes open and not open my mouth? Or do I have to take the long way around and get closer to him and then express concern? This loving thy neighbor stuff is hard!
What did you see today?
One of my coworkers at the library was overweight when he first got his job. He then went on the paleolithic diet. He got down to a healthy weight and kept on going, so now he is too thin for his large frame. My relationship with this young man is cordial but not close.
Commentary
Actually, "cordial but not close" is pretty much what I go for in all my relationships. I mean, I'm married and I have family and a couple of close friends, but in general I don't bond tightly with other human beings.
And therein lies a problem. I'm concerned about my coworker. He may be ill, but given his personality (he strikes me as someone who sees things very much in black and white) I'm concerned he may be anorexic. But I'm nowhere near close enough to him to ask him about it.
Closeness is not the only issue. Current etiquette dictates that we don't make casual comments on appearance in the workplace, as doing so risks a charge of unprofessionalism or outright harassment. And in society at large we generally don't talk about a person's weight at all. Remember, the only time you should ask a woman if she's pregnant is when you see a baby emerging from her womb. I guess the reason behind this is that we are expected to be hypersensitive about our weight, and if my coworker really does have an eating disorder the last thing I want to do is promote hypersensitivity.
But is the only alternative to say nothing at all? To, in fact, have my eyes open and not open my mouth? Or do I have to take the long way around and get closer to him and then express concern? This loving thy neighbor stuff is hard!
What did you see today?
4/06/2010
I heard about a medical appointment
Context
A coworker who was in my office today mentioned that she wouldn't be available for something because she had a doctor's appointment in Dallas she'd made a year ago. As the day went on I grew increasingly curious about what sort of medical appointment one would make a year in advance.
Commentary
If you think I'm going to satisfy your curiosity about what kind of medical appointment is made a year in advance, I have bad news for you for two reasons:
1) I don't know.
2) It's someone's medical appointment, for crying out loud!
Anyway, my intent is to blog about my curiosity. I have always been enormously curious. The "open my eyes" aspect of this blog is never a burden on me; I'm constantly trying to see what's going on and why, especially when it comes to people. It's the main reason I studied history at Rice: the opportunity to find out what people did in a given situation, and better yet, how it turned out, was well-nigh irresistible to me.
Nothing wrong with curiosity since I'm not a cat, but in my case it can lead to snooping. My curiosity about what makes people tick has lead me to read diaries, eavesdrop on private conversations and, on one memorable occasion, read a series of love letters between a coworker and someone who was decidedly not her husband.
Please understand, I don't snoop in order to exert any power over a person, either in terms of blackmail or gossip. Frankly, in order to use any secrets I learn I would have to reveal how I came by the knowledge and that's just plain embarrassing. Nope, it really is just a case of me saying, "Oh! That's what's going on in that person's life. Interesting." In fact, if I wanted to justify myself I could even say that it gives me some insights that help me love my brothers and sisters in Christ more.
Except that it doesn't, any more than rape helps spark a romantic relationship. I was so pleased, by the way, when General Hospital finally dealt with that. I know it was hard to tarnish one of their supercouples, but seriously!
Anyway, snooping is information rape: it takes something from a person that they might have offered willingly without giving him/her a choice in the matter. It's not only violence, it's laziness, in the sense of not taking the time to cultivate a relationship where intimacies are shared as equals. So I think it's better to live with a little unsatisfied curiosity than to feed vampirically off someone else's emotional life.
What did you hear today?
A coworker who was in my office today mentioned that she wouldn't be available for something because she had a doctor's appointment in Dallas she'd made a year ago. As the day went on I grew increasingly curious about what sort of medical appointment one would make a year in advance.
Commentary
If you think I'm going to satisfy your curiosity about what kind of medical appointment is made a year in advance, I have bad news for you for two reasons:
1) I don't know.
2) It's someone's medical appointment, for crying out loud!
Anyway, my intent is to blog about my curiosity. I have always been enormously curious. The "open my eyes" aspect of this blog is never a burden on me; I'm constantly trying to see what's going on and why, especially when it comes to people. It's the main reason I studied history at Rice: the opportunity to find out what people did in a given situation, and better yet, how it turned out, was well-nigh irresistible to me.
Nothing wrong with curiosity since I'm not a cat, but in my case it can lead to snooping. My curiosity about what makes people tick has lead me to read diaries, eavesdrop on private conversations and, on one memorable occasion, read a series of love letters between a coworker and someone who was decidedly not her husband.
Please understand, I don't snoop in order to exert any power over a person, either in terms of blackmail or gossip. Frankly, in order to use any secrets I learn I would have to reveal how I came by the knowledge and that's just plain embarrassing. Nope, it really is just a case of me saying, "Oh! That's what's going on in that person's life. Interesting." In fact, if I wanted to justify myself I could even say that it gives me some insights that help me love my brothers and sisters in Christ more.
Except that it doesn't, any more than rape helps spark a romantic relationship. I was so pleased, by the way, when General Hospital finally dealt with that. I know it was hard to tarnish one of their supercouples, but seriously!
Anyway, snooping is information rape: it takes something from a person that they might have offered willingly without giving him/her a choice in the matter. It's not only violence, it's laziness, in the sense of not taking the time to cultivate a relationship where intimacies are shared as equals. So I think it's better to live with a little unsatisfied curiosity than to feed vampirically off someone else's emotional life.
What did you hear today?
3/02/2010
I heard about an exclusive service
Context
I’m attending a class just prior to the COSUGI conference this week. It’s the same conference as this post and this one, and even this one referred to, but they’ve changed the name of it to accommodate a merger of two vendors. This year’s conference is at Disney’s Coronado Springs Resort, where it's hard to get off the grounds of the resort itself on foot. If you want to go to Disney attractions the resort provides a free bus, but all of us in the class have found it difficult/expensive to go anywhere non-Disney related. Today I went exploring and found a Lynx stop in the “cast member” (that’s what Disney calls staff) parking lot. When I went to the concierge desk to ask for a route map for Lynx, they told me that stop is for cast members only.
Commentary
I try to stick to "just the facts" in the Context section, so now I'm going to add some emotion.
1) I mentioned that we were finding it difficult to travel to non-Disney destinations. I didn't mention that we've been here for five days and we're desperate to get off the reservation!
2) The people at the concierge desk were genuinely perplexed by my desire to ride a public bus. I, in turn, was astonished that Disney asserts enough power in Orlando that they can reserve a bus stop (probably several bus stops) for their employees only.
I'm also a little curious about what would happen if I attempted to board a bus at the "cast members only" stop. Disney prides itself on customer service, after all. On the other hand, and I mean this as a compliment, cast members at this resort have proven remarkably gifted at saying "no" while still smiling brightly. I'm still annoyed by the exclusivity of the service, though, and not just because I'm being thwarted in my plans.
I think it's also because of the message the hotel seems to be sending. One of the reasons my classmates and I want to go someplace "normal" is that Walt Disney World is unrelentingly entertainment-oriented. This is, of course, not surprising, but it can be a little wearying. Even my incredibly nice husband is concerned that he may go off on the next phone operator who wishes him a "magical evening."
This attitude may be particularly grating for me because when I go to a work conference I go to, um, work, not play. (OK, I blog, but sometimes that feels like work!) I'm not trying to sound goody-goody; I'm just a person who does not generally mix business with pleasure. I don't go to theme parks when I supposed to be attending a conference and I don't usually check e-mail when I'm on vacation.
What's interesting is I think the administration at Disney understands this work/play separation very well. That's why the public bus stop, where mundane things like commuting to and fro a job happen, is hidden a good ways away from the magical guest areas.
What did you hear today
I’m attending a class just prior to the COSUGI conference this week. It’s the same conference as this post and this one, and even this one referred to, but they’ve changed the name of it to accommodate a merger of two vendors. This year’s conference is at Disney’s Coronado Springs Resort, where it's hard to get off the grounds of the resort itself on foot. If you want to go to Disney attractions the resort provides a free bus, but all of us in the class have found it difficult/expensive to go anywhere non-Disney related. Today I went exploring and found a Lynx stop in the “cast member” (that’s what Disney calls staff) parking lot. When I went to the concierge desk to ask for a route map for Lynx, they told me that stop is for cast members only.
Commentary
I try to stick to "just the facts" in the Context section, so now I'm going to add some emotion.
1) I mentioned that we were finding it difficult to travel to non-Disney destinations. I didn't mention that we've been here for five days and we're desperate to get off the reservation!
2) The people at the concierge desk were genuinely perplexed by my desire to ride a public bus. I, in turn, was astonished that Disney asserts enough power in Orlando that they can reserve a bus stop (probably several bus stops) for their employees only.
I'm also a little curious about what would happen if I attempted to board a bus at the "cast members only" stop. Disney prides itself on customer service, after all. On the other hand, and I mean this as a compliment, cast members at this resort have proven remarkably gifted at saying "no" while still smiling brightly. I'm still annoyed by the exclusivity of the service, though, and not just because I'm being thwarted in my plans.
I think it's also because of the message the hotel seems to be sending. One of the reasons my classmates and I want to go someplace "normal" is that Walt Disney World is unrelentingly entertainment-oriented. This is, of course, not surprising, but it can be a little wearying. Even my incredibly nice husband is concerned that he may go off on the next phone operator who wishes him a "magical evening."
This attitude may be particularly grating for me because when I go to a work conference I go to, um, work, not play. (OK, I blog, but sometimes that feels like work!) I'm not trying to sound goody-goody; I'm just a person who does not generally mix business with pleasure. I don't go to theme parks when I supposed to be attending a conference and I don't usually check e-mail when I'm on vacation.
What's interesting is I think the administration at Disney understands this work/play separation very well. That's why the public bus stop, where mundane things like commuting to and fro a job happen, is hidden a good ways away from the magical guest areas.
What did you hear today
2/18/2010
I heard an invitation to a town hall meeting
Context
I answered the phone this afternoon and received a prerecorded invitation from my senator, David Vitter, to attend a town hall meeting. I cannot repeat it verbatim, but it went along the lines of, "I want to invite you to a town hall meeting to discuss important economic issues, including creating high-quality jobs for Louisiana, ending federal bailouts and cutting rampant federal spending . . . " At this point I hung up.
Commentary
Am I being unrealistically nostalgic, or didn't there use to be a time when "town hall" meant "Let's talk about issues and see how we want to resolve them," as opposed to "I already know the solution, I just want to get everyone together and tell them what it is"?
I'm not trying to be difficult. I recognize that I'm a liberal and Sen. Vitter is a Republican, so it's not necessarily realistic to expect that we will share political opinions in common. Moreover, he won the election so he has some assurance that the majority of Louisiana voters agree with his stand. So I have no problem with the idea that he's already made up his mind. It's the pretending that he's trying to get constituents together to gather feedback that bothers me.
What Senator Vitter is proposing is a rally, not a town hall meeting. He is up for reelection this year, so it's perfectly reasonable for him to have a rally to whip up support. But there's no need for him to invite me.
What did you hear today?
I answered the phone this afternoon and received a prerecorded invitation from my senator, David Vitter, to attend a town hall meeting. I cannot repeat it verbatim, but it went along the lines of, "I want to invite you to a town hall meeting to discuss important economic issues, including creating high-quality jobs for Louisiana, ending federal bailouts and cutting rampant federal spending . . . " At this point I hung up.
Commentary
Am I being unrealistically nostalgic, or didn't there use to be a time when "town hall" meant "Let's talk about issues and see how we want to resolve them," as opposed to "I already know the solution, I just want to get everyone together and tell them what it is"?
I'm not trying to be difficult. I recognize that I'm a liberal and Sen. Vitter is a Republican, so it's not necessarily realistic to expect that we will share political opinions in common. Moreover, he won the election so he has some assurance that the majority of Louisiana voters agree with his stand. So I have no problem with the idea that he's already made up his mind. It's the pretending that he's trying to get constituents together to gather feedback that bothers me.
What Senator Vitter is proposing is a rally, not a town hall meeting. He is up for reelection this year, so it's perfectly reasonable for him to have a rally to whip up support. But there's no need for him to invite me.
What did you hear today?
12/02/2009
I saw a billboard
Context
Lee Michaels, a Louisiana-based chain of jewelry stores has several billboards in Shreveport. The one I passed today said, "If a woman says she doesn't want anything, she's lying."
Commentary
The general marketing technique of jewelry stores, particularly during the holidays, is to say that the way to a woman's heart is through expensive baubles. Perhaps I shouldn't take advertising so seriously, but I don't get this idea at all.
Don't get me wrong; I like pretty shiny things and I have a diamond engagement ring. But about the time it started being "our money," I realized that putting a huge chunk of it into personal decoration was actually a contrary indicator of how well I would be taken care of in the future. On the other hand, I understand that other women may have differing opinions about both money and relationships.
But now Lee Michaels has libeled me personally. I, in fact, frequently tell my husband and others that I don't want anything for Christmas or other occasions. It's not that I don't appreciate gifts and the affection behind them, but frankly I'm at a financial place in my life where if I want something, I buy it for myself. Of course, I may be in this place because I don't indulge in a lot of expensive jewelry, but I digress.
The point is, I'm not lying. I really don't want anything and won't be the slightest bit offended if you don't get me a Christmas gift. Even if I get you something, because I only do that if I want to, not because I'm setting up some kind of winter solstice-specific swap meet.
So quit telling lies about me, Lee Michaels. And if you'd like to discontinue your general practice of implying that women in general are sneaky gold-diggers who can't afford their own jewelry, that would be peachy too.
What did you see today?
Lee Michaels, a Louisiana-based chain of jewelry stores has several billboards in Shreveport. The one I passed today said, "If a woman says she doesn't want anything, she's lying."
Commentary
The general marketing technique of jewelry stores, particularly during the holidays, is to say that the way to a woman's heart is through expensive baubles. Perhaps I shouldn't take advertising so seriously, but I don't get this idea at all.
Don't get me wrong; I like pretty shiny things and I have a diamond engagement ring. But about the time it started being "our money," I realized that putting a huge chunk of it into personal decoration was actually a contrary indicator of how well I would be taken care of in the future. On the other hand, I understand that other women may have differing opinions about both money and relationships.
But now Lee Michaels has libeled me personally. I, in fact, frequently tell my husband and others that I don't want anything for Christmas or other occasions. It's not that I don't appreciate gifts and the affection behind them, but frankly I'm at a financial place in my life where if I want something, I buy it for myself. Of course, I may be in this place because I don't indulge in a lot of expensive jewelry, but I digress.
The point is, I'm not lying. I really don't want anything and won't be the slightest bit offended if you don't get me a Christmas gift. Even if I get you something, because I only do that if I want to, not because I'm setting up some kind of winter solstice-specific swap meet.
So quit telling lies about me, Lee Michaels. And if you'd like to discontinue your general practice of implying that women in general are sneaky gold-diggers who can't afford their own jewelry, that would be peachy too.
What did you see today?
11/28/2009
I heard a plea for help
Context
At my Quaker meeting we usually have a program before our meeting for worship. The program today was about handling emotions like anger and sadness while still remaining faithful to the testimony on integrity. During our discussion, one regular attender spoke about someone he knows whose life is in turmoil because she refuses to forgive her father for mistreating her. He asked if we had a suggestion for something to say that wouldn't cause her to turn on him and I said that nothing could ensure the desired response.
Commentary
I hope I wasn't too harsh with my co-religionist. My concern was that he might be seeking a magic bullet here and I wanted to discourage him in that endeavor.
I blame writers. Frequently in works of fiction on page, stage and screen, someone says something that ends all argument and sets everyone listening on the right track (I'm particularly annoyed when this happens to be the loudest voice on a TV show, but I digress). So we might come to believe that there are words that will have this effect in real life as well, but in my experience they are far fewer and further between.
I'm not saying it's a bad idea to be like a writer in choosing words carefully. I rehearse stuff all the time. In fact, this is about the third different narrative style I had considered for today's blog entry. If you would think one of the other two might have been better, oh well!
It's another aspect of fiction writing that may be getting in the way, though. Writers not only get to choose what their characters say, they get to choose how other characters react to it. I think the question posited in this Salon interview is nonsensical: "Do you think novelists are responsible for what their characters think?" If we're not responsible for the products of our own minds, we're in serious trouble!
In real life though, we cannot possibly control how people respond to us. I've been known to use the phrase "appropriate response," but realistically the question has to be, "appropriate according to what criteria?" I find I can't even predict my own response to stimuli with any regularity; a comment I would just let slide under some circumstances becomes an unpardonable transgression under others.
So am I saying my friend from the meeting should just avoid talking to this woman about forgiveness, since he can't predict her reaction? No. I just think he should pay attention to another aspect of real life that is different than fiction: the length of it. I think one of the reasons fiction writers use these "magic bullet" lines is because they need to wrap up a plot in a finite amount of time. We are under no such constraints. We can talk to a person about forgiveness and even if they yell at us, even if they add us to their list of unforgivens, we still may have an impact long down the road.
I believe this is why the Bible calls us to faithfulness, not necessarily effectiveness. Or at least, not effectiveness that we can easily measure. Time and again in God's Word, prophets are praised for bringing a message, whether it appears to be working or not. And some of the effect isn't known even during that prophet's lifetime. It comes when I read the message and learn something. Talk about an unanticipated response!
What did you hear today?
At my Quaker meeting we usually have a program before our meeting for worship. The program today was about handling emotions like anger and sadness while still remaining faithful to the testimony on integrity. During our discussion, one regular attender spoke about someone he knows whose life is in turmoil because she refuses to forgive her father for mistreating her. He asked if we had a suggestion for something to say that wouldn't cause her to turn on him and I said that nothing could ensure the desired response.
Commentary
I hope I wasn't too harsh with my co-religionist. My concern was that he might be seeking a magic bullet here and I wanted to discourage him in that endeavor.
I blame writers. Frequently in works of fiction on page, stage and screen, someone says something that ends all argument and sets everyone listening on the right track (I'm particularly annoyed when this happens to be the loudest voice on a TV show, but I digress). So we might come to believe that there are words that will have this effect in real life as well, but in my experience they are far fewer and further between.
I'm not saying it's a bad idea to be like a writer in choosing words carefully. I rehearse stuff all the time. In fact, this is about the third different narrative style I had considered for today's blog entry. If you would think one of the other two might have been better, oh well!
It's another aspect of fiction writing that may be getting in the way, though. Writers not only get to choose what their characters say, they get to choose how other characters react to it. I think the question posited in this Salon interview is nonsensical: "Do you think novelists are responsible for what their characters think?" If we're not responsible for the products of our own minds, we're in serious trouble!
In real life though, we cannot possibly control how people respond to us. I've been known to use the phrase "appropriate response," but realistically the question has to be, "appropriate according to what criteria?" I find I can't even predict my own response to stimuli with any regularity; a comment I would just let slide under some circumstances becomes an unpardonable transgression under others.
So am I saying my friend from the meeting should just avoid talking to this woman about forgiveness, since he can't predict her reaction? No. I just think he should pay attention to another aspect of real life that is different than fiction: the length of it. I think one of the reasons fiction writers use these "magic bullet" lines is because they need to wrap up a plot in a finite amount of time. We are under no such constraints. We can talk to a person about forgiveness and even if they yell at us, even if they add us to their list of unforgivens, we still may have an impact long down the road.
I believe this is why the Bible calls us to faithfulness, not necessarily effectiveness. Or at least, not effectiveness that we can easily measure. Time and again in God's Word, prophets are praised for bringing a message, whether it appears to be working or not. And some of the effect isn't known even during that prophet's lifetime. It comes when I read the message and learn something. Talk about an unanticipated response!
What did you hear today?
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