Context
My husband told me about part of this story today, where people are calling a grocery store in Newtown, Connecticut and offering to pay for people's groceries.
Commentary
To my everlasting shame, with all the internal and external debate I've engaged in about what caused the Newtown massacre and how we can prevent these tragedies in the future, it never occurred to me to offer personal help to the people there.
What did you see today?
Showing posts with label politics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label politics. Show all posts
12/25/2012
10/14/2012
I saw a description of negotiations
Context
I'm reading The Social Life of Information by John Seely Brown and Paul Duguid. This book contends that the belief that more information, especially in the form of the internet, will somehow solve all our problems is at least premature, if not hopelessly naive. I've just finished a section where the authors talk about the intricacies of negotiation, pointing out that human beings makes thousands of implicit negotiations every day, and that we only resort to rule-based decision making, the kind computers are really good at, when those fail. As an example, they point out that committees often have to make rules about how to communicate, like who can talk for how long, but groups of friends usually do not.
Commentary
The idea of rule-based decision making and negotiation got me to thinking about the rule of law. Patriotism is a challenging concept for me. I like being an American because I think we have a kick-ass constitution, not because of any loyalty to a geographic or cultural entity. Does the U.S. even have a culture? Our embrace of multiculturalism maybe, but I digress. Anyway, I like the rule of law in this country.
On the other hand, I'm a Quaker, and as a matter of practice, we abjure some of the things the Constitution prescribes. For example, Quakers don't vote when doing church business. In my experience, Quakers vote like mad in the national elections, but that's a separate issue. Anyway, in our meetings for worship with attention to business (We're a simple people, but we like the names of things to be painfully precise.), we make decisions by "sense of the meeting." This means we work together until we find an answer that resonates with everyone participating in the process, rather than voting, which produces winners and losers.
If you ask a dozen Quakers why we do things this way, there's a good chance you'll get at least ten different answers. Christian Quakers often believe that a collective answer is more likely to reflect the will of God. In my case, I specifically hark back to the wrong turn the children of Israel made when they told God they no longer wanted their disputes settled and armies led by the itinerant judges He raised up among them. They wanted a permanent hereditary king, like all the other cool nations had. The extra level of remove from the Lord did not work out well for them.
Quakers who are not explicitly Christian sometimes still invoke the mystical aspect of collective decision-making, even if the mystery is not attributed to a particular deity. Even non-Quakers sometimes adopt the "sense of the meeting" language to their secular business dealings, in the belief that consensus (or in the case of the International Monetary Fund pretending to have consensus) serves better than conflict when expecting people to work together.
So I like the rule of law, but I avoid using it whenever I can. Brown and Duguid point out computers can't manage the slight change-of-course negotiations people navigate with ease because these depend on shared values and trust, which machines can neither create nor maintain. And there's the rub: the moment we turn to the rule of law, which is the set "If you cross this line, these consequences will happen," way of looking at the world, we give up human connection in order to take a chance on "being right." Which one is really more valuable?
What did you see today?
I'm reading The Social Life of Information by John Seely Brown and Paul Duguid. This book contends that the belief that more information, especially in the form of the internet, will somehow solve all our problems is at least premature, if not hopelessly naive. I've just finished a section where the authors talk about the intricacies of negotiation, pointing out that human beings makes thousands of implicit negotiations every day, and that we only resort to rule-based decision making, the kind computers are really good at, when those fail. As an example, they point out that committees often have to make rules about how to communicate, like who can talk for how long, but groups of friends usually do not.
Commentary
The idea of rule-based decision making and negotiation got me to thinking about the rule of law. Patriotism is a challenging concept for me. I like being an American because I think we have a kick-ass constitution, not because of any loyalty to a geographic or cultural entity. Does the U.S. even have a culture? Our embrace of multiculturalism maybe, but I digress. Anyway, I like the rule of law in this country.
On the other hand, I'm a Quaker, and as a matter of practice, we abjure some of the things the Constitution prescribes. For example, Quakers don't vote when doing church business. In my experience, Quakers vote like mad in the national elections, but that's a separate issue. Anyway, in our meetings for worship with attention to business (We're a simple people, but we like the names of things to be painfully precise.), we make decisions by "sense of the meeting." This means we work together until we find an answer that resonates with everyone participating in the process, rather than voting, which produces winners and losers.
If you ask a dozen Quakers why we do things this way, there's a good chance you'll get at least ten different answers. Christian Quakers often believe that a collective answer is more likely to reflect the will of God. In my case, I specifically hark back to the wrong turn the children of Israel made when they told God they no longer wanted their disputes settled and armies led by the itinerant judges He raised up among them. They wanted a permanent hereditary king, like all the other cool nations had. The extra level of remove from the Lord did not work out well for them.
Quakers who are not explicitly Christian sometimes still invoke the mystical aspect of collective decision-making, even if the mystery is not attributed to a particular deity. Even non-Quakers sometimes adopt the "sense of the meeting" language to their secular business dealings, in the belief that consensus (or in the case of the International Monetary Fund pretending to have consensus) serves better than conflict when expecting people to work together.
So I like the rule of law, but I avoid using it whenever I can. Brown and Duguid point out computers can't manage the slight change-of-course negotiations people navigate with ease because these depend on shared values and trust, which machines can neither create nor maintain. And there's the rub: the moment we turn to the rule of law, which is the set "If you cross this line, these consequences will happen," way of looking at the world, we give up human connection in order to take a chance on "being right." Which one is really more valuable?
What did you see today?
7/24/2012
I saw reaction to an obituary
Context
Sally Ride died yesterday. I didn't know this until I was looking at The Huffington Post for another reason and saw the headline to this article. I didn't read the article, but understood from the headline that Sally Ride was a lesbian. About 15 seconds later, I saw the headline to this article about some reactions in the LGBTQ community to a memorial tweet by Mitt Romney. This time I actually clicked through to the article in question.
Commentary
My first response to the Twitter fight referenced above was puzzlement. I thought that the fact that people were getting angry meant that Romney had said something derogatory about Sally Ride's sexual orientation on his Twitter account. But no, just the standard, "We've lost an American hero today" stuff. So the retweets seemed to be saying, "Because you haven't fully supported equality for homosexuals, you don't get to honor them when they die."
On the face of it, I though the reaction was crazy for two reasons:
1) It was unfair. I don't know the exact timing of Romney's tweet, but I get the impression that Sally Ride did not come out of the closet to the general public while she was alive. There is every reason to believe the presumptive Republican nominee didn't even know she was gay when he tweeted about her. And if you're going to blame him for that, you're too far gone for me to even talk to you.
2) It was ungracious. When someone says he admires you or holds a door open for you, you thank him politely. You don't spit in his face.
My husband contends that the offended members of the LGBTQ might have been saying that tweeting about someone's death is somewhat self-aggrandizing, unlike sending a private note of condolence to the family. It's kind of like mentioning Sally Ride's death at the beginning of your stump speech for the day. It acknowledges the loss, sure, but also ties it to your current endeavors. So the retweeters respond, "Nuh-uh, you don't get to hitch your wagon to our star!" and that might be a reasonable response.
We have so many ways of communicating these days and mass communication is becoming increasingly massive in both its reach and its accessibility. Telling everyone how you're feeling has become simple, as has gathering everyone's response. Even things that really should be private, like letting someone know you're breaking up with him, end up happening through Facebook.
Which brings me to God. Generally speaking, although I'm pretty sure He can, God does not engage in mass communication, except in the person of Jesus. Usually, when the Almighty speaks from a place of divinity, He gives a personalized message to one person. Now, that person often passes the message on to a crowd, in which case we call him/her a prophet, but some of the best Bible stories derive from private communication between an individual and her/his Lord: the Magnificat; Jesus telling the woman, "Your sins are forgiven;" even Jonah's argument with God about job satisfaction. I'm not saying I know why God chooses to communicate this way, but I think it does bring home the idea the manner in which we deliver a message can be as telling as its content.
What did you see today?
Sally Ride died yesterday. I didn't know this until I was looking at The Huffington Post for another reason and saw the headline to this article. I didn't read the article, but understood from the headline that Sally Ride was a lesbian. About 15 seconds later, I saw the headline to this article about some reactions in the LGBTQ community to a memorial tweet by Mitt Romney. This time I actually clicked through to the article in question.
Commentary
My first response to the Twitter fight referenced above was puzzlement. I thought that the fact that people were getting angry meant that Romney had said something derogatory about Sally Ride's sexual orientation on his Twitter account. But no, just the standard, "We've lost an American hero today" stuff. So the retweets seemed to be saying, "Because you haven't fully supported equality for homosexuals, you don't get to honor them when they die."
On the face of it, I though the reaction was crazy for two reasons:
1) It was unfair. I don't know the exact timing of Romney's tweet, but I get the impression that Sally Ride did not come out of the closet to the general public while she was alive. There is every reason to believe the presumptive Republican nominee didn't even know she was gay when he tweeted about her. And if you're going to blame him for that, you're too far gone for me to even talk to you.
2) It was ungracious. When someone says he admires you or holds a door open for you, you thank him politely. You don't spit in his face.
My husband contends that the offended members of the LGBTQ might have been saying that tweeting about someone's death is somewhat self-aggrandizing, unlike sending a private note of condolence to the family. It's kind of like mentioning Sally Ride's death at the beginning of your stump speech for the day. It acknowledges the loss, sure, but also ties it to your current endeavors. So the retweeters respond, "Nuh-uh, you don't get to hitch your wagon to our star!" and that might be a reasonable response.
We have so many ways of communicating these days and mass communication is becoming increasingly massive in both its reach and its accessibility. Telling everyone how you're feeling has become simple, as has gathering everyone's response. Even things that really should be private, like letting someone know you're breaking up with him, end up happening through Facebook.
Which brings me to God. Generally speaking, although I'm pretty sure He can, God does not engage in mass communication, except in the person of Jesus. Usually, when the Almighty speaks from a place of divinity, He gives a personalized message to one person. Now, that person often passes the message on to a crowd, in which case we call him/her a prophet, but some of the best Bible stories derive from private communication between an individual and her/his Lord: the Magnificat; Jesus telling the woman, "Your sins are forgiven;" even Jonah's argument with God about job satisfaction. I'm not saying I know why God chooses to communicate this way, but I think it does bring home the idea the manner in which we deliver a message can be as telling as its content.
What did you see today?
5/31/2012
I saw a description of a school
Context A little over six weeks ago, the Louisiana State Legislature passed HB 976 (look it up on this site, if you like). This legislation, among other things, allows students in underperforming public schools to attend private schools using vouchers provided by the state. It is up to the private schools to decide whether and how many of these transferring students they will accept. Today I read in the Shreveport Times that the state Superintendent of Education is getting into some hot water because one of the private schools in question does not appear to have facilities to accommodate all the transfers they said they would accept.Commentary I am a firm believer in school choice, in that I believe parents should be allowed to enroll their children in the school of their choice. If the school is public, then children should be able to attend for free, regardless of the location of the school or the child's residence. I take something of a free market approach to public schools, believing that the good ones that attract lots of students should be allotted more tax revenue, and the ones that don't, not so much.I like this idea in theory, but the practice might be a little tricky. C.E. Byrd, located a block from my house, has over 2000 students, double the number of any competing high school in town bar one. It is stuffed to the gills now and already a traffic nightmare, but I have every confidence that if more students were allowed to enroll, they would. Everyone wants to go to Byrd. So I can see that the same problem might occur at New Living Word School, the private school described in the Shreveport Times article linked above: they're anticipating a lot of demand.My question is, "Why?" Late in this article by Diane Ravitch in the New York Times Review of Books, she talks about the belief some people have that private schools are, by their very nature, better than public ones. I attended a private school from 3rd to 12th grade (and college, too, but that's a separate issue), and it was academically better than the public school I started at (no link, to protect the guilty). I have also heard of people who enrolled their children in private schools that touted their superior academics and discipline, only to find that the standards for teacher recruitment were so poor that students slipped to below grade level in reading comprehension and were nearly held back a grade when they returned to their neighborhood school.The discussion of whether private is intrinsically better than public would be academic (Hee!) if it wasn't for the fact that flesh and blood parents are trying to make decisions about their children's futures. The belief that a private school that has to compete more directly for its financial resources than a public one would provide a higher quality education is not an irrational one. Nor is there anything wrong with expressing a general preference for commercial solutions to problems over tax-based ones. It's not the way I roll, but there's nothing evil about it.The problem comes from taking these philosophical opinions and substituting them for careful evaluation of the real choices before you. Schools, and all other institutions for that matter, are defined by more than just their revenue streams. The people involved, students as well as teachers, the physical location, even the history of a school can affect its success or failure. That's why everyone wants to go to Byrd. And hopefully considerably less than 315 kids will want to go to New Living Word.What did you see today?
12/03/2011
I saw a list of classroom rules
Context
There have been papers littered around the park next to my home for a while now, so I decided to go pick them up and dispose of them. Idly looking at some of them, I realized they were schoolwork for a freshman at our local high school, including a long set of rules for a math class. One of the rules was: don't criticize teachers or administrators.
Commentary
I taught high school for a year after I graduated from college, and discipline was my least favorite aspect of the endeavor. Some of that was surely because I don't like being told what to do and therefore don't like telling people what to do. This characteristic of mine is discussed in more detail in this post, if you'd like a blast from the past.
There was more to it than that, though. There was also the idealistic (and who isn't idealistic when they first get out of college) notion that what I was teaching should be interesting enough that the students wouldn't have to be forced to learn it, which is what classroom management sometimes felt like to me. Even then I realized this couldn't possibly be true all the time, and that even I was subject to discipline more than once from my favorite teacher in high school. To this day, though, it still seems like a good goal to keep in front of me when I teach. So if I concede that some classroom rules are necessary, I would like you to return the favor by understanding that the goals behind the rules are an important educational consideration.
A few weeks ago, I read Whatever It Takes by Paul Tough, which is a book about Geoffrey Canada's efforts to rescue kids in Harlem from the poverty cycle. One of the things the Harlem Children's Zone's Baby College tries to teach parents is to not shut their kids up when they ask questions. After all, as Canada puts it, that's what "rich white kids" do all the time, and it gives them an important step up in formal educational settings. This is a struggle for the parents, though, because they want to emphasize good, respectful behavior, which in their eyes includes not pestering people with questions. These goals are in conflict, but I'm foursquare with the Baby College in believing it's better to be smart and annoying than dumb and pleasant. I will confess to having more personal experience with one side of this equation than the other.
I believe that if you're trying to grow smart kids (and I concede this may or may not be the goal of any given educational institution), you have to be understand that all questions in between the poles of completely innocuous (How are you?) and completely obnoxious (Are you always this idiotic?) spring from a void or a conflict within a person. I ask why the sky is blue because I don't know, but also because it is a different color than the grass and because I know the sky is composed of air and air doesn't look blue when it's right in front of me. In other words, I'm trying to make sense of stuff. Answering my question, or at least acknowledging that it's OK to ask it, teaches me that sensemaking is an appropriate thing to do.
The same thing is true of questioning authority, or criticizing it, as the case may be. If someone's beliefs, experience and/or feelings don't mesh well with what they're being told by someone in charge, saying so is a way of making sense of how the world works. I'm not saying this means those in power always have to accommodate what we want or feel, but there's no reason to pretend we don't have those individual needs. That's why the U.S. Constitution protects our right to talk about these conflicts. I guess I'll just be grateful I was reading the rules for a math class instead of a civics one.
What did you see today?
There have been papers littered around the park next to my home for a while now, so I decided to go pick them up and dispose of them. Idly looking at some of them, I realized they were schoolwork for a freshman at our local high school, including a long set of rules for a math class. One of the rules was: don't criticize teachers or administrators.
Commentary
I taught high school for a year after I graduated from college, and discipline was my least favorite aspect of the endeavor. Some of that was surely because I don't like being told what to do and therefore don't like telling people what to do. This characteristic of mine is discussed in more detail in this post, if you'd like a blast from the past.
There was more to it than that, though. There was also the idealistic (and who isn't idealistic when they first get out of college) notion that what I was teaching should be interesting enough that the students wouldn't have to be forced to learn it, which is what classroom management sometimes felt like to me. Even then I realized this couldn't possibly be true all the time, and that even I was subject to discipline more than once from my favorite teacher in high school. To this day, though, it still seems like a good goal to keep in front of me when I teach. So if I concede that some classroom rules are necessary, I would like you to return the favor by understanding that the goals behind the rules are an important educational consideration.
A few weeks ago, I read Whatever It Takes by Paul Tough, which is a book about Geoffrey Canada's efforts to rescue kids in Harlem from the poverty cycle. One of the things the Harlem Children's Zone's Baby College tries to teach parents is to not shut their kids up when they ask questions. After all, as Canada puts it, that's what "rich white kids" do all the time, and it gives them an important step up in formal educational settings. This is a struggle for the parents, though, because they want to emphasize good, respectful behavior, which in their eyes includes not pestering people with questions. These goals are in conflict, but I'm foursquare with the Baby College in believing it's better to be smart and annoying than dumb and pleasant. I will confess to having more personal experience with one side of this equation than the other.
I believe that if you're trying to grow smart kids (and I concede this may or may not be the goal of any given educational institution), you have to be understand that all questions in between the poles of completely innocuous (How are you?) and completely obnoxious (Are you always this idiotic?) spring from a void or a conflict within a person. I ask why the sky is blue because I don't know, but also because it is a different color than the grass and because I know the sky is composed of air and air doesn't look blue when it's right in front of me. In other words, I'm trying to make sense of stuff. Answering my question, or at least acknowledging that it's OK to ask it, teaches me that sensemaking is an appropriate thing to do.
The same thing is true of questioning authority, or criticizing it, as the case may be. If someone's beliefs, experience and/or feelings don't mesh well with what they're being told by someone in charge, saying so is a way of making sense of how the world works. I'm not saying this means those in power always have to accommodate what we want or feel, but there's no reason to pretend we don't have those individual needs. That's why the U.S. Constitution protects our right to talk about these conflicts. I guess I'll just be grateful I was reading the rules for a math class instead of a civics one.
What did you see today?
11/24/2011
I heard my husband say something wise
Context
One of ads on the Thanksgiving Day Classic was for the Visa card Super Bowl ticket giveaway. In the ad, they say the Super Bowl is the most epic day in America. My husband Mark said, "No it's not; that's Election Day."
Commentary
Well, Mark said it all, but it's my blog, so I'll just add this: every four years we agree to govern ourselves instead of being governed. Frequently on these occasions, a new party comes into power and no guns are fired, except in what I consider a bizarre form of celebration. This has gone on for over 230 years. If that's not worth giving thanks for, I don't know what is.
What did you hear today?
One of ads on the Thanksgiving Day Classic was for the Visa card Super Bowl ticket giveaway. In the ad, they say the Super Bowl is the most epic day in America. My husband Mark said, "No it's not; that's Election Day."
Commentary
Well, Mark said it all, but it's my blog, so I'll just add this: every four years we agree to govern ourselves instead of being governed. Frequently on these occasions, a new party comes into power and no guns are fired, except in what I consider a bizarre form of celebration. This has gone on for over 230 years. If that's not worth giving thanks for, I don't know what is.
What did you hear today?
6/12/2011
I saw an editorial title
Context
I read an editorial today in The Shreveport Times on debit card swipe fees. It was entitled Elected Officials Should be on the People's Side and can be found here, at least for now. The Times appears to clean out their archive on a regular basis.
Commentary
So this debit card swipe issue that I've commented on before has some legs. I find this surprising, but maybe that's because although I use my debit card frequently, I never think of myself as being in the majority on any lifestyle issue.
I don't think we need to rehash the legislation again. Instead, I want to talk about the title of the piece: Elected Officials Should be on the People's Side. Since that's a sentiment I think we can all agree on, I have good news for you: elected officials are always on the people's side. It's just a matter of which people.
Well, it's a democracy, right? So they should be on the side of the majority of the people. Sounds reasonable, especially if you modify that to say "a majority of the voters," because that's who politicians need to please in order to keep being elected.
But majority rule is only part of the equation in American government. We also believe in minority rights. That's why I hate it when people say (and legislate as if) the U.S. is a Christian country. Yes, a majority of the adults here self-identify as Christians, but if we call it a Christian country, we're trampling over the rights of the minority of people who don't identify with that religion. Just say we're a country with a lot of Christians and I'll be perfectly happy.
OK then, can we agree, as our editorialist seems to be contending, that elected officials should be on the side of the most downtrodden people? Well, it might be nice, and certainly the Bible says the church should behave that way, but again, we're not a Christian country. Sometimes the government stands on the side of the most powerful people (cynics will say "most of the time") because supporting them is perceived to benefit the nation as a whole. You may think that's a bad idea, but I for one think we gained a lot more from NAFTA than we lost.
Now it's my turn to be cynical. I think when we say elected officials should be on the side of the people, we mean "people like us." I don't feel the need to comment on that (surprise, surprise!); I'm just positing the theory.
Please understand, I think the editorial mentioned above is well written and makes several good arguments, even though I don't hold precisely the same opinion as the person who wrote it. I just think the title is meaningless. We haven't come to the point where robots are taking over, so elected officials are always on the side of the some people somewhere.
What did you see today?
I read an editorial today in The Shreveport Times on debit card swipe fees. It was entitled Elected Officials Should be on the People's Side and can be found here, at least for now. The Times appears to clean out their archive on a regular basis.
Commentary
So this debit card swipe issue that I've commented on before has some legs. I find this surprising, but maybe that's because although I use my debit card frequently, I never think of myself as being in the majority on any lifestyle issue.
I don't think we need to rehash the legislation again. Instead, I want to talk about the title of the piece: Elected Officials Should be on the People's Side. Since that's a sentiment I think we can all agree on, I have good news for you: elected officials are always on the people's side. It's just a matter of which people.
Well, it's a democracy, right? So they should be on the side of the majority of the people. Sounds reasonable, especially if you modify that to say "a majority of the voters," because that's who politicians need to please in order to keep being elected.
But majority rule is only part of the equation in American government. We also believe in minority rights. That's why I hate it when people say (and legislate as if) the U.S. is a Christian country. Yes, a majority of the adults here self-identify as Christians, but if we call it a Christian country, we're trampling over the rights of the minority of people who don't identify with that religion. Just say we're a country with a lot of Christians and I'll be perfectly happy.
OK then, can we agree, as our editorialist seems to be contending, that elected officials should be on the side of the most downtrodden people? Well, it might be nice, and certainly the Bible says the church should behave that way, but again, we're not a Christian country. Sometimes the government stands on the side of the most powerful people (cynics will say "most of the time") because supporting them is perceived to benefit the nation as a whole. You may think that's a bad idea, but I for one think we gained a lot more from NAFTA than we lost.
Now it's my turn to be cynical. I think when we say elected officials should be on the side of the people, we mean "people like us." I don't feel the need to comment on that (surprise, surprise!); I'm just positing the theory.
Please understand, I think the editorial mentioned above is well written and makes several good arguments, even though I don't hold precisely the same opinion as the person who wrote it. I just think the title is meaningless. We haven't come to the point where robots are taking over, so elected officials are always on the side of the some people somewhere.
What did you see today?
4/08/2011
I saw ideas about education
Context
I'm still reading What Would Google Do? In the section on Google U, Jarvis posits that most useful education is self-motivated and self-directing, so the current educational model of coming to a specific classroom and learning what the teacher tells you is hopelessly outdated. He allows that our schools may have a socialization function as well as an educational one, but he thinks there are plenty of other communities and experiences that could fulfill the same role.
Commentary
OK, now Jarvis has wandered into my field, so I'm bound to get touchy. Actually, I don't want to talk about education per se; I want to dive into that "socialization" thing. It seems to me that when Jarvis looks at it, he thinks of socialization as the process of helping a student find a community, literally giving them a social life in some respect.
However, that's not entirely what we expect out of schooling, especially public schooling, in this country. We don't just want students to find some community to belong to, we want them to specifically belong to the American community. The most obvious example of our attempts to create Americans is the civics class, but there are others. Take science labs. Performing experiments in school tells our kids that they shouldn't just take someone's word for something. Or gym class, where 8-year-olds learn some of the same lessons about discipline and teamwork they would if they attended military boot camp.
In fact, the biggest battles we fight over education in this country are about what "America" is. Are we a Christian people who should be taught about God in the classroom? Are we an egalitarian people who believe everyone should learn together, regardless of skills or background? Is free speech or good discipline a more important characteristic of Americans? General school board meetings are fun, but if you really want to get a lesson in civics, find a way to get yourself on a curriculum or textbook choosing committee. Then you'll really learn what this country is all about, at least in your neighbors' eyes.
Does it make you uncomfortable when I talk about school as indoctrination? That is, in and of itself, an American thing. We pride ourselves on being free, independent, self-deterministic types. And, to be fair, the fact that we debate the issues mentioned above on a regular basis, rather than being dictated to by a small group of people or a time-honored tradition, speaks to how free we are. And also to why debate techniques are frequently taught in American schools.
What did you see today?
I'm still reading What Would Google Do? In the section on Google U, Jarvis posits that most useful education is self-motivated and self-directing, so the current educational model of coming to a specific classroom and learning what the teacher tells you is hopelessly outdated. He allows that our schools may have a socialization function as well as an educational one, but he thinks there are plenty of other communities and experiences that could fulfill the same role.
Commentary
OK, now Jarvis has wandered into my field, so I'm bound to get touchy. Actually, I don't want to talk about education per se; I want to dive into that "socialization" thing. It seems to me that when Jarvis looks at it, he thinks of socialization as the process of helping a student find a community, literally giving them a social life in some respect.
However, that's not entirely what we expect out of schooling, especially public schooling, in this country. We don't just want students to find some community to belong to, we want them to specifically belong to the American community. The most obvious example of our attempts to create Americans is the civics class, but there are others. Take science labs. Performing experiments in school tells our kids that they shouldn't just take someone's word for something. Or gym class, where 8-year-olds learn some of the same lessons about discipline and teamwork they would if they attended military boot camp.
In fact, the biggest battles we fight over education in this country are about what "America" is. Are we a Christian people who should be taught about God in the classroom? Are we an egalitarian people who believe everyone should learn together, regardless of skills or background? Is free speech or good discipline a more important characteristic of Americans? General school board meetings are fun, but if you really want to get a lesson in civics, find a way to get yourself on a curriculum or textbook choosing committee. Then you'll really learn what this country is all about, at least in your neighbors' eyes.
Does it make you uncomfortable when I talk about school as indoctrination? That is, in and of itself, an American thing. We pride ourselves on being free, independent, self-deterministic types. And, to be fair, the fact that we debate the issues mentioned above on a regular basis, rather than being dictated to by a small group of people or a time-honored tradition, speaks to how free we are. And also to why debate techniques are frequently taught in American schools.
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?
1/24/2011
I saw a description of violence
Context
I'm reading Our Choice of Gods by Richard Parrish. It's a novel about the roots and consequences of conflict in Palestine, starting with Jewish lives destroyed by the Holocaust, which leads to the Israelis' callousness toward the Palestinians in the Holy Land, which in turn causes the Palestinians to embrace terrorism, and so on and so on. I picked up the book because, although the causes of violence are obvious to me, I was interested to see what would make someone turn the other way and actually embrace peace.
Commentary
When I was in college I came to the conclusion that, popular opinion to the side, men were actually much more romantic than women. "Romantic" in this case meaning they were much more likely to believe in things like love at first sight and eternal soul mates than the women I knew, who talked more about "not losing your head" and "making the relationship work."
"Wow, you've really gone far afield there, Lynn." Bear with me; I'm coming back. Similarly to the way conventional wisdom says women are romantic, it also says pacifists are hopelessly unrealistic in their view of a world where everyone gives each other warm fuzzies all the time. Actually, that's not what I believe as a pacifist, but more importantly, I think the proponents of violence are far more impractical than I am, in that they believe they can harness that wildfire to a particular set of goals.
Consider Palestine. This is an area of the world where two groups of people (well, actually about 500 groups of people, but let's try to keep it simple) hold the following belief: there is some act of violence we can commit that will cause the other group to leave this place and never come back. Over time, some members of both groups have given this belief up, but there is a seemingly endless supply of instigators who pop up and say, "No, no, this time I have a plan that will win us a decisive victory," the evidence of the past 60 years (or the past several thousand, but again, I'm trying to simplify) notwithstanding. How is that more realistic than pacifism, which often says at its base, "I don't respond well to force. Therefore I'm going to assume you don't either."?
What did you see today?
I'm reading Our Choice of Gods by Richard Parrish. It's a novel about the roots and consequences of conflict in Palestine, starting with Jewish lives destroyed by the Holocaust, which leads to the Israelis' callousness toward the Palestinians in the Holy Land, which in turn causes the Palestinians to embrace terrorism, and so on and so on. I picked up the book because, although the causes of violence are obvious to me, I was interested to see what would make someone turn the other way and actually embrace peace.
Commentary
When I was in college I came to the conclusion that, popular opinion to the side, men were actually much more romantic than women. "Romantic" in this case meaning they were much more likely to believe in things like love at first sight and eternal soul mates than the women I knew, who talked more about "not losing your head" and "making the relationship work."
"Wow, you've really gone far afield there, Lynn." Bear with me; I'm coming back. Similarly to the way conventional wisdom says women are romantic, it also says pacifists are hopelessly unrealistic in their view of a world where everyone gives each other warm fuzzies all the time. Actually, that's not what I believe as a pacifist, but more importantly, I think the proponents of violence are far more impractical than I am, in that they believe they can harness that wildfire to a particular set of goals.
Consider Palestine. This is an area of the world where two groups of people (well, actually about 500 groups of people, but let's try to keep it simple) hold the following belief: there is some act of violence we can commit that will cause the other group to leave this place and never come back. Over time, some members of both groups have given this belief up, but there is a seemingly endless supply of instigators who pop up and say, "No, no, this time I have a plan that will win us a decisive victory," the evidence of the past 60 years (or the past several thousand, but again, I'm trying to simplify) notwithstanding. How is that more realistic than pacifism, which often says at its base, "I don't respond well to force. Therefore I'm going to assume you don't either."?
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?
11/05/2010
I saw another bumper sticker
Context
I saw another pro-gun ownership bumper sticker today, this one quoting Adolf Hitler in his apparent affinity for gun control. There is both a description of the sticker and evidence refuting its historical accuracy at this link.
Commentary
I have added a gadget to this blog whereby you can easily e-mail, tweet, Google Buzz, Facebook or reblog any entry on it. Maybe I'll become famous. Also, Blogger now says they're using automatic spam control on comments. That makes me a little sad.
Housekeeping aside, I do want to make it clear that I see and read bumper stickers about other issues besides the 2nd Amendment! I wonder if the pro-gun ones capture more of my attention because people are having to make kind of a tricky argument. After all, just saying, "I'm opposed to handgun control because I like to kill people" is kind of a non-starter.
I was disappointed, but not surprised, to see the Hitler quote is likely a fake. Although I find some NRA-type arguments spurious, I'm squarely on the side of those who say the founding fathers wrote the 2nd Amendment so citizens could defend themselves from government. After all, they had just finished separating themselves from an oppressive regime by, well, fighting a war.
I'd like to believe we don't have to worry about defending ourselves in a democracy, but historically that hasn't proven true. After all, most of the acts we complained about in the Declaration of Independence came from the British Parliament, a democratically-elected body. Even Hitler himself rose through the power of the ballot box. And everybody voted in the former Soviet Union.
So I'm sympathetic to the idea that we can't rely on any government to keep us safe or to have our best interests at heart. However, I don't think packing heat is the appropriate response to the situation. After all, if guns are outlawed, people who aren't outlaws might be inclined to come up with more sensible ways to resolve their differences.
What did you see today?
I saw another pro-gun ownership bumper sticker today, this one quoting Adolf Hitler in his apparent affinity for gun control. There is both a description of the sticker and evidence refuting its historical accuracy at this link.
Commentary
I have added a gadget to this blog whereby you can easily e-mail, tweet, Google Buzz, Facebook or reblog any entry on it. Maybe I'll become famous. Also, Blogger now says they're using automatic spam control on comments. That makes me a little sad.
Housekeeping aside, I do want to make it clear that I see and read bumper stickers about other issues besides the 2nd Amendment! I wonder if the pro-gun ones capture more of my attention because people are having to make kind of a tricky argument. After all, just saying, "I'm opposed to handgun control because I like to kill people" is kind of a non-starter.
I was disappointed, but not surprised, to see the Hitler quote is likely a fake. Although I find some NRA-type arguments spurious, I'm squarely on the side of those who say the founding fathers wrote the 2nd Amendment so citizens could defend themselves from government. After all, they had just finished separating themselves from an oppressive regime by, well, fighting a war.
I'd like to believe we don't have to worry about defending ourselves in a democracy, but historically that hasn't proven true. After all, most of the acts we complained about in the Declaration of Independence came from the British Parliament, a democratically-elected body. Even Hitler himself rose through the power of the ballot box. And everybody voted in the former Soviet Union.
So I'm sympathetic to the idea that we can't rely on any government to keep us safe or to have our best interests at heart. However, I don't think packing heat is the appropriate response to the situation. After all, if guns are outlawed, people who aren't outlaws might be inclined to come up with more sensible ways to resolve their differences.
What did you see today?
11/02/2010
I saw someone not getting the point
Context
I watcheda portion of MSNBC's Countdown with Keith Olberman on the web today. I was interested in it because it referenced the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear, an event I really, really wanted to go to but settled for watching on TV. I didn't watch the entire segment, because I think I understood the points Olberman was making early on. The Countdown segment has an edited version of what Jon Stewart had to say at the rally; you can find unedited video here, by scrolling down on the left side to Moment of Sincerity.
Commentary
I think Keith Olberman was trying to say two things in his response to Jon Stewart:
1. "Maybe I should try to tone down the unproductive anger." No argument here. I love the Daily Show in general, but this rally in particular spoke to me, because I believe reason desperately needs to be restored to our national discourse.
Trust me, I am never one to walk away from an argument. But that's because I want my opinion heard and I want to hear its counterpoint. For the same reason, and possibly because of my family background, I cheerfully walk away from shouting matches. No one's getting heard there, which in some ways is OK with me because I'm pretty sure little of value is being said. Or, as Jon Stewart says in the clip referenced above, "If we amplify everything, we hear nothing."
2. "It's not demonizing your opponent if your opponent really is a demon." True enough, Keith, but as I think Jon was trying to explain, this is not applicable to anyone currently active in American politics.
It's funny. Even though the term "reactionary" is supposed to apply to ultra-conservative people, I think the literal definition fits Keith Olberman to a T. His standard MO is to hear an outrageous statement from the right and respond by making an equally outrageous statement. But he would have us believe there is no actual equivalence because he's on the side of truth, justice and the American way and his opponents are prone to sacrificing cute little kittens on the altar of bad journalism.
I don't buy it. I don't think two wrongs make a right, I cannot be convinced that good ends ever justify bad means, and absent seeing horns growing out of their heads or smelling brimstone on their breaths, I refuse to believe that people with values and beliefs that differ from mine are demons. Because that would be insane.
What did you see today?
I watcheda portion of MSNBC's Countdown with Keith Olberman on the web today. I was interested in it because it referenced the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear, an event I really, really wanted to go to but settled for watching on TV. I didn't watch the entire segment, because I think I understood the points Olberman was making early on. The Countdown segment has an edited version of what Jon Stewart had to say at the rally; you can find unedited video here, by scrolling down on the left side to Moment of Sincerity.
Commentary
I think Keith Olberman was trying to say two things in his response to Jon Stewart:
1. "Maybe I should try to tone down the unproductive anger." No argument here. I love the Daily Show in general, but this rally in particular spoke to me, because I believe reason desperately needs to be restored to our national discourse.
Trust me, I am never one to walk away from an argument. But that's because I want my opinion heard and I want to hear its counterpoint. For the same reason, and possibly because of my family background, I cheerfully walk away from shouting matches. No one's getting heard there, which in some ways is OK with me because I'm pretty sure little of value is being said. Or, as Jon Stewart says in the clip referenced above, "If we amplify everything, we hear nothing."
2. "It's not demonizing your opponent if your opponent really is a demon." True enough, Keith, but as I think Jon was trying to explain, this is not applicable to anyone currently active in American politics.
It's funny. Even though the term "reactionary" is supposed to apply to ultra-conservative people, I think the literal definition fits Keith Olberman to a T. His standard MO is to hear an outrageous statement from the right and respond by making an equally outrageous statement. But he would have us believe there is no actual equivalence because he's on the side of truth, justice and the American way and his opponents are prone to sacrificing cute little kittens on the altar of bad journalism.
I don't buy it. I don't think two wrongs make a right, I cannot be convinced that good ends ever justify bad means, and absent seeing horns growing out of their heads or smelling brimstone on their breaths, I refuse to believe that people with values and beliefs that differ from mine are demons. Because that would be insane.
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?
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?
10/16/2009
I saw a story about violence
Context
I'm still working through John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath. A passage I read today talked about the Akron Rubber Strike, and how part of the reason for its peaceful resolution was the fact that the striking workers made a show of being armed and organized.
Commentary
I used to plow through books, but that is no longer the case, possibly because of the number of things that divide my attention. And it's not only reading that suffers. During my attempt to write this entry I have removed a kitten from my sleeve seven times, overheard a conversation between my neighbor and her child (my windows are open) and played with the dog and let her out. And back in. My progress through the Grapes of Wrath is not helped in the slightest by the number of times I put the book down and go "huh!"
Steinbeck seems to be making a clear point in his discussion of the Akron incident: vigilantes in Akron were perfectly willing to violently put an end to the strike up until the time they realized the workers might fight back. Then they backed down.
I can see the reasonableness of this approach. No point in fighting if you can't guarantee yourself a victory, after all. In the U.S. we try to make sure we're never in this situation by "acting against emerging threats before they are fully formed," which is known as "preemptive self-defense." Even the Just War Doctrine (#2309 at this link), which is supposed to give a good ethical grounding to death and destruction, requires "serious prospects of success," a.k.a. "Don't be a David going up against a Goliath."
So there you have it. If you engage in violence, you run the risk of either getting hurt yourself or looking like the worst kind of coward by beating up on an obviously weaker opponent. Can you see why I'm a pacifist?
What did you see today?
I'm still working through John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath. A passage I read today talked about the Akron Rubber Strike, and how part of the reason for its peaceful resolution was the fact that the striking workers made a show of being armed and organized.
Commentary
I used to plow through books, but that is no longer the case, possibly because of the number of things that divide my attention. And it's not only reading that suffers. During my attempt to write this entry I have removed a kitten from my sleeve seven times, overheard a conversation between my neighbor and her child (my windows are open) and played with the dog and let her out. And back in. My progress through the Grapes of Wrath is not helped in the slightest by the number of times I put the book down and go "huh!"
Steinbeck seems to be making a clear point in his discussion of the Akron incident: vigilantes in Akron were perfectly willing to violently put an end to the strike up until the time they realized the workers might fight back. Then they backed down.
I can see the reasonableness of this approach. No point in fighting if you can't guarantee yourself a victory, after all. In the U.S. we try to make sure we're never in this situation by "acting against emerging threats before they are fully formed," which is known as "preemptive self-defense." Even the Just War Doctrine (#2309 at this link), which is supposed to give a good ethical grounding to death and destruction, requires "serious prospects of success," a.k.a. "Don't be a David going up against a Goliath."
So there you have it. If you engage in violence, you run the risk of either getting hurt yourself or looking like the worst kind of coward by beating up on an obviously weaker opponent. Can you see why I'm a pacifist?
What did you see today?
8/04/2009
I saw a TV show about politics
Context
I bought the entire run of The West Wing on DVD recently. Tonight I watched an episode called "Five Votes Down," which was about the West Wing staffers' attempts to get a gun control law passed by Congress.
Commentary
I love The West Wing, so now that I have this set you may be hearing me comment on it a lot!
I'm concerned about gun control. I'm also concerned about health care, the various wars taking place around the globe, and the environment. But after watching the beginning of this episode, which contains the great line "There are two things in the world you never want to let people see how you make 'em - laws and sausages," I've decided to become a one-issue voter. At least for now.
The issue is decency. And I don't mean the "politicians have to adhere to a strict moral code that I can't uphold myself" variety. I mean treating people decently. Being respectful of people you disagree with. Agreeing with people because you believe what they're saying, not because of some potential personal gain in the future. Seeing a person who's been brought low and helping them, even if you warned them in advance that this was where their actions would lead. Not indulging the urge to tear down those who have some advantage over you because you're jealous of their good fortune. Decency.
It may just be that I think our tangible problems are intractable, so I've decided to concentrate on something more ephemeral, but I hope not. I think what's going on here is that I no longer believe we can solve any problems by treating our opponents badly. I'm a pacifist because I believe violence doesn't solve anything, and over time I've learned that violence can take a lot of subtle forms, like contempt and close-mindedness and fearmongering.
So when it comes time to vote I'm looking for problem-solvers, not naysayers and "I told you so"ers. I don't mind if you hold a strong opinion; I hold plenty of them myself. I'm just no longer willing to believe that my opinion or yours is the only one decent people can hold.
What did you see today?
I bought the entire run of The West Wing on DVD recently. Tonight I watched an episode called "Five Votes Down," which was about the West Wing staffers' attempts to get a gun control law passed by Congress.
Commentary
I love The West Wing, so now that I have this set you may be hearing me comment on it a lot!
I'm concerned about gun control. I'm also concerned about health care, the various wars taking place around the globe, and the environment. But after watching the beginning of this episode, which contains the great line "There are two things in the world you never want to let people see how you make 'em - laws and sausages," I've decided to become a one-issue voter. At least for now.
The issue is decency. And I don't mean the "politicians have to adhere to a strict moral code that I can't uphold myself" variety. I mean treating people decently. Being respectful of people you disagree with. Agreeing with people because you believe what they're saying, not because of some potential personal gain in the future. Seeing a person who's been brought low and helping them, even if you warned them in advance that this was where their actions would lead. Not indulging the urge to tear down those who have some advantage over you because you're jealous of their good fortune. Decency.
It may just be that I think our tangible problems are intractable, so I've decided to concentrate on something more ephemeral, but I hope not. I think what's going on here is that I no longer believe we can solve any problems by treating our opponents badly. I'm a pacifist because I believe violence doesn't solve anything, and over time I've learned that violence can take a lot of subtle forms, like contempt and close-mindedness and fearmongering.
So when it comes time to vote I'm looking for problem-solvers, not naysayers and "I told you so"ers. I don't mind if you hold a strong opinion; I hold plenty of them myself. I'm just no longer willing to believe that my opinion or yours is the only one decent people can hold.
What did you see today?
7/09/2009
I saw a bumper sticker
Context
As I was driving to my volunteer job today I saw a bumper sticker on a pickup truck that said, "An armed man is a citizen. An unarmed man is a subject." A quick Google search reveals that "armed=citizen, unarmed=subject" is a common internet trope. I had never heard it before today.
Commentary
I am a religious pacifist. I am not, however, totally anti-gun. Biathlon is my favorite Winter Olympic sport and I actually gave a pro-Second Amendment speech at the American Legion's National Oratorical Contest (of course, I was younger then). However, I am completely flabbergasted by the idea that weapons are our most important, or if I'm to take the bumper sticker literally, only tool of citizenship.
Perhaps I'm overthinking this, but I'd rather be accused of overthinking something than underthinking it. I mean, if your gun is what makes you a citizen, why don't we have an armed coup d'etat every time a pro-gun control candidate is elected? Obviously the ballot box, the peaceful protest, the letter-writing campaign from hell and even the liberally-biased mainstream media (as an actual liberal, that last one gives me a giggle, but I digress) are insignificant props, so why use them?
If I were to be really mean (and I'm in that kind of mood, because this is the dumbest political slogan I've seen all week), I'd say the "must be armed to be a citizen" folks are rank cowards. Think about it. What they're saying is that if they don't have a gun available, they can be made to do anything. Or perhaps, since we know the government is unlikely to be unarmed, they're saying that if someone else holds a gun to their head, they'll do whatever they're told. I know the first one's not true of me and I'm hoping the second isn't either.
In the end, I guess that's the foundation of my pacifism: the belief that there are all kinds of things that are mightier than the sword, and the mightiest of all is the will of God. To which we're all subject.
What did you see today?
As I was driving to my volunteer job today I saw a bumper sticker on a pickup truck that said, "An armed man is a citizen. An unarmed man is a subject." A quick Google search reveals that "armed=citizen, unarmed=subject" is a common internet trope. I had never heard it before today.
Commentary
I am a religious pacifist. I am not, however, totally anti-gun. Biathlon is my favorite Winter Olympic sport and I actually gave a pro-Second Amendment speech at the American Legion's National Oratorical Contest (of course, I was younger then). However, I am completely flabbergasted by the idea that weapons are our most important, or if I'm to take the bumper sticker literally, only tool of citizenship.
Perhaps I'm overthinking this, but I'd rather be accused of overthinking something than underthinking it. I mean, if your gun is what makes you a citizen, why don't we have an armed coup d'etat every time a pro-gun control candidate is elected? Obviously the ballot box, the peaceful protest, the letter-writing campaign from hell and even the liberally-biased mainstream media (as an actual liberal, that last one gives me a giggle, but I digress) are insignificant props, so why use them?
If I were to be really mean (and I'm in that kind of mood, because this is the dumbest political slogan I've seen all week), I'd say the "must be armed to be a citizen" folks are rank cowards. Think about it. What they're saying is that if they don't have a gun available, they can be made to do anything. Or perhaps, since we know the government is unlikely to be unarmed, they're saying that if someone else holds a gun to their head, they'll do whatever they're told. I know the first one's not true of me and I'm hoping the second isn't either.
In the end, I guess that's the foundation of my pacifism: the belief that there are all kinds of things that are mightier than the sword, and the mightiest of all is the will of God. To which we're all subject.
What did you see today?
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