On physical books

Here is an article discussing how the absence of physical books and records (or tapes or CDs) in modern houses can affect the exploration of the world by the young.  If your folks or your friends or the other people you interact with don't have books and stuff lying around, you're not likely to be exposed accidentally to new cultural influences that you didn't know about before.  With a plethora of movies and books and music on-demand in a personalized cloud, you are exposed mainly to what you already know.  This leaves a lot less space in the world for the sort of idle pondering, confronting novel ideas, and generally fortunate accidents that inspire broad, critical, adventurous thinking.  That's a shame.

A delight for me in the past few years has been to go through my dead father's old stuff, especially his book collection from college, which sat dormant in our basement for decades.  I am now able not only to read what he read, see what shaped his mind when he was a young man becoming away of a wide, awake world beyond the bounds of his humble upbringing.  No, I even get to see his margin notes, notice what he highlighted, what struck him most when he was half the age I am now.  None of this would be possible had he done all his college reading on a Kindle and disposed unceremoniously of the pdf files once he was done reading them.

I recently read "The Constant Gardener" by John LeCarré, an author I got into a few years ago when I finally picked up some of my dad's old books of his that I'd seen around the house for over 20 years but had never ventured to read.  It isn't by any means one of LeCarré's best; its tone is very different from much of his earlier work, replacing quiet, impotent ambiguity that grinds through apathetic systems, with a crusading moral certainty that fights against evil vested interests.  But it adds one more piece to the mosaic of the author's lifelong opus; not every book has to or even can be the best, but each one is its own contribution to the author's (and the reader's) conception of the world.  Again, I would not be as aware of this opus if I didn't have physical books with a list of the author's other works on the inside jacket.  And had my father simply read this on a Kindle while he was dying, I probably wouldn't have known that it was the last book he finished.  As is, even though my copy is just from the library, I could share vicariously with my father as I read through the plot's twists and turns, just as the book's protagonist follows in the footsteps of his dead wife as he takes up her search for the truth.

Another funny post from Damon Young

This one declaring 2015 the year of average, even mediocre white people, and their aggressive quest to quell opportunities and recognition for any non-white people.

Another reason to throw away your "smart" phone

An interesting article about the effect of excessive phone fiddling on your posture and your general feelings of wellbeing.  I've been surprised a few times recently at social occasions to see some people arrive and immediately sit down in a corner to mess with their Iphones.  Please you guys, come back to the realm of the living!

Happy Abolition Day

I just learned that it was 150 years ago today that slavery was abolished in the US.  Good for us!  I'm glad it hasn't left any bitter, indelible legacy of an oppressive caste system in our society all these years later.

Disdain for others, quantified

Here is an article discussing the so-called racial tipping point, the relative number of black people (and especially poor black people) that the average white person will accept living around before running away to a new house to avoid black people.  It's sad and absurd that this concept should even have to exist, based as it is on a conception of blacks as a sort of epidemic disease, but there seems to be a rather rigorous way of quantifying the intolerance of whites for living near blacks.  Sadly, this tolerance level seems to top out at only 14%, meaning that if a neighborhood has a higher proportion of black residents than that, all the white folks will likely move out in short order.  Then as blacks attempt to flee this now-blighted area by moving to the place where the whites moved, the whites will again move farther out.  It is a more statistically rigorous way of characterizing a phenomenon I discussed in a past blog post, of everyone disdaining everyone else, which leads to an ever-widening suburban sprawl as those who deem themselves desireable move farther and farther away from city centers or inner suburbs populated by those they deem to be undesireable.  My wife, a very insightful outside observer of the US, has repeatedly remarked that if something will be our undoing as a nation, it is these deep rifts we maintain between races.  I agree with her.  Such rifts stem from, and further promote, our inability to conceive ourselves as a single people, to see our neighbor as a neighbor and not a suspicious, tainted other.  How shameful.

Racism as addiction

Here is an interesting take on racism from a development blogger I enjoy reading.  He likens racism to an addiction, and recommends a sort of twelve-step program to overcome racism collectively, as a society.  I don't know how sound all of his analogies are, or how much I agree with his proposed solution, but his idea is interesting.

The Progressive Church in Latin America

This is a long essay in which a former priest reflects on his slow, undirected, hard-won education in the social implications of the Gospel.  It also happens to serve as an excellent overview of the progressive tendencies in the Catholic Church in Latin America during the late 20th century.  And it contains the excellent quote from Father Dom Helder Camara, "When I give food to the poor, they call me a saint. When I ask why are they poor, they call me a communist".

Funny post on turkey

Here is a silly little post urging people to give up on trying to salvage inherently bland turkey through any number of complex and often dangerous culinary machinations.

Gender and land rights

Here is a collection of articles on gender and land rights.  They especially highlight how many gaps exist in what we know about gender, development, agriculture, land tenure, etc.

Viewing people as assets, not threats

Here's an opinion piece that points out certain hateful, damaging ideas that many of us hold about people of other races or socioeconomic groups, and argues in favor of viewing our fellow humans as assets to society, and not drains or threats.  It is particularly appropriate in the current climate of fearmongering around hapless Syrian refugees fleeing a brutal war.

RIP National Geographic

Here's a copy of an email I recently sent to the National Geographic Magazine, on the occasion of their selling out to Fox:

I am writing to cancel my subscription to the National Geographic Magazine.  I grew up with it; my father has been a subscriber since before I can remember, and I took over his subscription when he died some years ago.  The Magazine was an inexpensive way for many people to learn about parts of the world they would never otherwise have seen, and the fact that the publication was backed by the trustworthy National Geographic Society meant that this widely-available educational force was of high quality and academic rigor.  The creation of the National Geographic channel has surely increased the reach of the brand, but it always seemed to me to be much more focused on sordid thrills than intellectual honesty.  When I recently learned that Fox was an increasingly dominant partner in the channel, I understood better the disparity I'd long noted between the quality of the channel and the Magazine.  The recent sale of the Magazine to Fox has definitively destroyed my faith in the publication as an honest broker of knowledge.  I still don't understand how a not-for-profit can sell rights to its members' bulletin, but in any case, I don't want any part of it.  It makes me sad to see my family's long relationship with the Society broken, but we're not the ones who have broken it.  The Society is.  It's shameful.

I want to stress that I feel like National Geographic played an important role in popular education in the US, and probably elsewhere.  Even if you didn't want to spring a few bucks for a new issue, you could find relatively recent magazines in doctor waiting rooms, libraries, and thrift stores.  Even older issues were enlightening and held information that didn't lose relevance quickly.  The Magazine served as a sort of curator of easily-accessible knowledge for the non-academic masses.  I don't know who will continue to serve that role now that the Magazine's credibility as an objective reporter is going down the tubes.  It's a major loss, especially as many universities and museums, also formerly repositories of honest, widely-accessible learning, become more expensive and more beholden to commercial interests.  It will be an even bigger tragedy if the Magazine starts to employ the tone used by the TV channel, which I would describe as glorifying a militarized, proto-fascist police state through its heavy circulation of sympathetic programs about prisons, surveillance equipment, counterterrorism, war machines, and antisocial doomsday survivalists.

Here's a bit more information on the sale of all National Geographic media rights to Fox.  Note in particular that among the massive layoffs underway at National Geographic right now are the fact-checkers.  I'd already noted the quality of the Magazine slipping, and the TV channel was always revolting shit, so with even fewer ties to factual reality and academic integrity, I can't imagine how they'll look.  I am sure Murdoch and co. will be able to improve the profitability of the NatGeo brand by lowering costs and seeking out new revenue streams.  But all of this will be at the expense of quality and integrity.  This article paints a picture of the National Geographic Society as unprofitable and too high-minded, with the TV channel providing most of the income to fund real scientific work.  If that is the case, why is Murdoch so interested in buying all of the media streams, including the supposedly unprofitable magazines?  And even if it's true that the TV channel was one of the Society's few profit-makers, why not then hold on to their 50% stake in it?  It seems like the status quo was funding the magazines and other media, as well as the scientific work that is the National Geographic Society's raison d'etre.  So why not have maintained some semblance of independence of mission by holding on to the Society's stake in the media outlets?

You wouldn't know about any of this from the cheery official webpage for the Society.  The sunny, inspiring video they present strikes me as so cynical in light of their mercantile machinations with Fox, an entity notable even among the parasitic fray of TV companies for their lack of decency, honesty, or intellectual integrity, and for their exceptional commitment to the destruction of individuals, cultures, nations, and ecosystems.

Krugman on the TPP

Here is a critique of the Trans-Pacific Partnership (both its content and the slimy way it's being negotiated) from Paul Krugman.

Learning through play

Here is an article that gathers together some of the mounting academic evidence for something that should have been pretty obvious to begin with:  that kids should play.  According to the cited studies, playtime serves a very important role in children's intellectual and emotional development.  If this is so, then it is a grave error when we make preschools look more and more like middle school, forcing children to sit and do schoolwork for hours every day. 

I think my family has been lucky with preschool options for our two boys.  At their tender age they've already attended four different schools on two continents, each with a slightly different teaching philosophy.  But all have focused mainly on play, gradually introducing more structured activities as kids get older.  It seems like drawing and other manual crafts and arts have served as a bridge to slowly incorporate more intentionality and order to kids while still leaving them free to explore and experiment.  Only relatively recently has my older son started to do much in the way of practicing letters and numbers on worksheets, and even that occupies only part of the morning, with more playful and artistic activities occupying the whole afternoon.  I feel like this is just right for him as he approaches five years of age.  Our littler guy is still mainly doing playtime and painting and storytime, which is just right for him.

Interesting directions in sustainable energy

This is a great article from the New Yorker about how solar technology and other energy-saving innovations are reaching a point at which it is feasible even for run-of-the-mill families in the US to install them and thus save a lot of money.  It appears that a lot of energy utilities are not happy with this.

Third World Green Daddy 59: Seasons in the Capital

I have had many pleasant surprises in terms of sustainability and childrearing during our stint back in the US.  I was expecting lots of consumerism and excess and bad influences on my kids, and there is certainly a fair share of that, but I hadn’t been expecting the ways in which living in Arlington, VA might be more sustainable, more healthy for my kids, than our life in Colombia.  Perhaps chief among these has been the possibility of sharing the changing seasons with my boys, and thus getting to know a particular place in a very special way.

I think I’ve always liked the seasons of the temperate US, the regular, recurring cycle of change throughout the year.  I grew up with a very fixed idea and set of feelings I associated with each season.  Times spent inside, cozyand secure during the winter; the hope and ecstasy of spring (which is always pretty precarious and uncertain in Chicago, sometimes going back to bitter cold pretty late in the season, but usually skipping straight to stifling heat with little interval of mild spring); the reckless abandon and freedom of a kid’s summer; and finally the time of abundance and preparation of cool fall.  I’ve always thought that fall is my favorite season, because it’s the time of harvest and good meals and new school years and Halloween.  But this year, after another stark, drab winter, I realized that the onset of spring and summer feels like coming back to life after a collective depression.  It reminds me that in many ways, I lived for the fleeting glory of summer as a child, and the rest of the year was just an exercise in self-control and patient waiting.

After having lived quite a long time on the Equator, I had forgotten the yearly drama of the changing seasons.  I mean, I remembered in a factual sense that summer was hot, and winter cold, etc., but I had lost the visceral feeling of actually living through these seasons.  In fact, that idea of waiting and change that we associate with climate in the temperate zones is totally alien to the Colombian context.  I mean, there’s a dry season and a wet season, but more present in most people’s lives is that the temperature changes drastically when you move from one place to another, from the cool highlands to the moist, mild coffee zones, or down to the sweltering heat of the Plains and the Coast.  And in each place, the weather is that way year round.  So in hot places it’s always hot, in cool places always cool.  There is no crisp, cleansing freeze, no bursting into life as the warmth returns.  It is the total absence of the cyclical way I had of seeing things growing up, centered as I was on the passage of times and seasons.  Even when we would fly from Colombia to Chicago to visit once a year, there was no sense of seasons or time.  We usually would visit in the summer, and it was like a tropical getaway for us, accustomed as we were to our cool mountain climate.

I had gotten very used to this in my Colombian home, and certainly enjoyed the comfort of being able to choose if you go to a sweltering place or not, and the absence of bitter winter.  In Chicago you don't choose these things--they're just thrust on you by the time of year.  So it was a funny surprise to move to Washington and experience the US seasons again after so long, and then to share them, first with Sam, and then with Paulo (who now has never really known anything other than the temperate scheme of seasons).  Starting with our arrival to DC in September, Sam and I would walk to school every morning and return walking every evening (later we rearranged schedules so my wife would take Sam and Paulo in the mornings, and I’d get them in the afternoon).  It is not far, perhaps a half mile, so we would go with pretty much the same route every day. 

Coming back from school, we would pass a huge red oak tree near a wall Sam likes to balance on, then the mercilessly pollarded catalpa trees at the corner house where Sam went trick-or-treating for his first US Halloween, then a mulberry tree that we eat from in summer, the house where Roxy the dog and her brother lounge in the yard most of the year, the high wall that Sam fell off of one time and hit his face on the sidewalk, the cherry blossom tree that blooms two weeks before the one across the street (because it’s next to a south-facing wall), and after that we go by the lion statue that we greet in Swahili.  Sam has learned the names and habits of these trees, seeing how the maple gets bright red flowers in spring, which turn into small red helicopters, then become big green helicopters in summer and fall down in fall, before the leaves turn bright red and fall down too.  He has gathered black walnuts from Roxy’s yard and opened them with me, only to find that black walnut trees don’t produce good nuts in Arlington, VA.  He has observed the fallen beard-like flowers on the sidewalk, and known that there must be an oak tree near.  He’s picked nascent magnolia blossoms to put in water so they’ll open the next day.  And he’s harvested juneberries from all the trees we’ve scouted in the neighborhood, to make jam and smoothies. 

In summer I would arrive at the boys’ preschool sweaty from my bike ride home, and we'd go to a nearby playground with a water park that we could all cool off in.  In winter we’ve noted which trees stay green, and we’ve made snow castles using a box to mold the bricks.  Paulo has rolled in the snow and made snow angels, following his brother’s lead.  And on tremblingly cold nights we’ve recited Robert W. Service’s The Cremation of Sam McGee as my father used to, to the point where Sam can recite entire stanzas from memory.

In short, my older son (and hopefully my younger son, though he can’t articulate it yet in words) got to know our neighborhood, our little part of the world, in the profound, visceral way you can only know a place after walking the same paths day after day.  There are variations every day, either from our slightly altering the path we take, or from the changing seasons, or the unexpected people we run into on a given day, and these variations are also a part of our sense of place, and the boys’ learning that existence and identity are both static and dynamic.  The maple tree is the same tree every day we see it, though it is never exactly the same as the day before.

Aside from enjoying the passage of seasons with my sons, I have been thrilled to find how easy it is to live sustainably in the Washington, DC area.  We didn’t have a car while we were there, and never missed one.  This would be impossible for us in Colombia; though we almost never drive in our own town, we do very frequently go back and forth to other places to visit family.  In DC, the few times we used a car, we were lucky enough to have a good friend of mine from Chicago who now lives in Washington.  Having grown up in the same socialist-Catholic-anti-consumerist setting as I did, he thinks nothing of letting us take his car for days at a time.  I would bike to work every day, and much of our family plans we would undertake on bike or on foot, as well.  We were a half block from the Metro, so when I felt lazy I could take it to work, and we would usually use the Metro to do things in central DC with our kids on the weekends.

Oh, and the things we'd do!  Our default weekend plan was to go to the library in our neighborhood, or the massive park around the library.  They not only have books, but even toys you can take out and play with while you’re at the library.  But at least once a week we’d do a more ambitious trek, usually to one of the Smithsonian museums that are an easy Metro or bike ride away.  We’ve gone ice skating in the winter, and seen high-quality puppet shows.  Every Sunday we would walk to a Spanish-language Mass across from the boys’ preschool, and we'd play in the nearby playgrounds before or after church.  Even going grocery shopping was a decent, car-free plan that we can make into a special outing with the boys.  For older kids there are lots of cheap or free summer activities in the DC area (plenty of really expensive ones too, if you’re into that sort of thing!).  Sometimes I regretted that we’d be leaving Washington before we could make use of these more structured activities that abound for grammar school-age kids.

In short, living in Washington, DC (actually in Arlington, VA, but we were closer to central DC than most of the city proper!) has been a real treat.  I never imagined that we could find a living situation in the US that would allow us to do the things we want to do, live simply, and not need a car.

There were certainly drawbacks.  I was appalled to see and experience firsthand the raw, blatant animosity and abuse toward Latinos in the DC area.  My impression is that Washington, DC and its suburbs still think that the “rightful owners” of the turf are WASP-y whites and blacks, and all the immigrants (and there are now a lot of them) are somehow unwelcome guests.  This is in strong contrast to Chicago, where our racism manifests itself as clear, grudgingly respectful lines drawn between white ethnic and black areas, and Latinos are sort of a special category that can live in peace in both black and white areas.  Numerous times in our life in the DC area my wife has been harassed, threatened, and dealt with rudely by strangers in public places, and even by employees in places like museums and stores that were supposed to be catering to her!  Sometimes it was when I was around, and these abusive idiots assumed that I too was some docile, scared Latino that’s too polite to talk back, until I would start yelling at them in English. 

In general race is a toxic, omnipresent obsession in the US.  I knew this before we got here, having grown up in a racially tense Chicago.  But after having lived in other places where race is just one small factor in how people judge you, it was a jarring experience to enter the fray, especially with my wife and kids in tow who were at once less aware of the situation coming in, and more subject to people’s ignorance because of how they look and talk.

It’s been a constant query and challenge for us to introduce our son to race and teach him what he needs to know to keep from being either a victim or a victimizer.  He’s had kids outright reject him because he’s from a different country, and also sort of subtly disrespect him in ways where you’re not sure if it’s because of the color of his skin or his background or just that some kids get along better than others.  He’s also been stuck in between his natural urge to help other Latino kids in his school that don’t speak English so well, and his desire to fit in with friends that exclude such kids (and again, it’s never totally clear if the exclusion is because they’re foreign or just because they are new or young or don’t like Ninja Turtles or whatever). 

And because my elder son’s appearance is ethnically ambiguous, it complicates things further.  Surely he escapes much of the outright discrimination he’d experience if he looked more clearly black or Indian, but it also makes it more difficult sometimes to explain things to him.  I can’t just say, “You’re white, so don’t oppress other kids for their race,” or, “You’re black, so make sure no one is treating you bad because of it.”  Our lessons are always more like, “You’re white, and black, and Indian, and from the US, and from Colombia, so it doesn’t make sense if you dislike another kid because he’s one of those things,” or, “If someone tells you they don’t like people from other countries, tell him then you won’t be friends with him, because you’re from another country.”  These lessons are always very specific to the situation, because I don’t know how to teach him larger things about the societal structure of race and class without either going over his head, or making him think the world is just a totally unfair shithole.  What was I to say when Sam asked if all white people are bad after I'd read him a passage of Malcolm X?

Sometimes at my urging we review the skin color of our friends and family one by one, so Sam will be aware that there are all types of color and appearances in his family, and that it would be incoherent for him to single out someone for their skin color as a criterion for his friendship or dislike.  Of course I don’t want him to be hyper-aware of race and think of each person as white John or black Ed or brown Tommy.  But pointing out the diversity of appearances of the people he loves seems like the simplest way to teach him that skin color is just one relatively minor trait to define each person.  At the same time, I realize that not everyone’s family is as racially mixed as Sam’s is, so what is my recommendation for them?  How do parents in all-white families and communities responsibly discuss with their kids why discrimination is wrong?  (The answer, all too often, is that they don’t).  

What should we do when Sam loves a movie called How to Train your Dragon 2, where the bad guy happens to be the only guy in the whole movie with skin color like Sam’s or his sister’s, and with a foreign accent?  What am I to say when we watch Dumbo, when after maybe 25 years without having seen it, I was shocked to see a bunch of jive-talking black crows playing the minstrel role?  Or are these crows in fact the only example of sympathetic, empowered characters that try to help Dumbo (in addition to the mouse, who also speaks with a specific ethnic/regional dialect)?  

Sample dissertation text for my four-year-old son:

"Sam, you should understand that these cartoon crows, which are decidedly not people, are nevertheless clearly identified with black American humans due to their speech and dance and movement.  In some respects their speech is an accurate rendering of one dialect that is native to the US and neither inherently superior nor inferior to any other.  However, their antics are offensive due less to the movie itself and more to our long history in the US of undervaluing black culture and life through both media depictions and through real violence visited upon black people.

I mean, the whole thing is sort of ridiculous.  (I won’t even get into the whole ten-minute psychedelic drunken elephant sequence!)

At any rate, we've left Washington behind, both the beautiful, evolving trees and the bilious racial tension.  It’s time to move on, once again back to the tropics.  My wife’s and my careers in international development demand that we move around the world relatively frequently.  This is a life we’ve chosen and that we love, but we it is still hard to say goodbye to all the things we’ve come to appreciate about a place.  We will miss our walks to school, our changing seasons, our weekend routines and favorite museums.  But we will take with us something we learned in the US:  how to search out fun, free kid activities, wherever you are.  Surely few places we'll go will have the rich offerings of the Smithsonian, but every town has parks and museums and streets and playgrounds to discover.   

We welcome a return to the tropics, to the carefree, unstructured way of living when there is no winter frost or summer swelter.  But as we enter what would be the fall months back in the States, I for one miss the feeling that comes with hunkering down for a long winter, protecting yourself in the cozy warmth of a well-insulated house.

The hidden costs of off-street parking

This is an interesting analysis of how building parking units in housing developments drives up rents and fosters car dependency.  It is a case study from Seattle, but I'm sure it applies elsewhere.

NYT on visiting Bogotá

Here's a nice NYT piece on Bogotá as tourist destination.  I could have sworn they'd already done quite a few 36 hours in Bogotá articles, but maybe that was Colombia in general, Medellín, or Cartagena.  Anyway, they really get at some of the best things to see in Bogotá, and it makes me nostalgic for my adopted country. 

Qhapaq Ñan

Here is the link to the American Indian museum's exhibit on the Inca road system running throughout the Andes.  The exhibit will be in DC through 2018, I believe, so catch it if you're there.  In the meanwhile, this website does a great job covering the content of the exhibit, from the origins of Andean empires through to the modern day customs of indigenous people in Peru and Bolivia.  Here's a cool video about a rope bridge built in the Inca style.

Third World Green Daddy 58: A reflection on baby language

My youngest boy is starting to say a lot of words now, some in English and some in Spanish.  Like most kids just learning to talk, he doesn't speak very clearly, but you get a clear understanding of what he's saying.

I guess I'd always assumed that when kids are first learning how to talk, they still don't know how to formulate phrases very well, which is why they don't talk clearly.  I never thought much about it; I just took it for granted.  But the other possible explanation, which I hadn't consciously considered, is that babies do know how to say things correctly in theory, but the mechanics of moving their mouth doesn't allow them to articulate the phrase exactly.

My experience with Paulo is making me think that this second explanation is more accurate.  Because dig this:  Paulo conjugates things correctly in Spanish.  When he can't do something, he says, "No puedo".  Not very clearly, not with thespian diction, but there's no confusing it for "no puede", "no podemos", etc.  When a thing falls, he says, "se cayó", again conjugated perfectly.  One could assume this is because these are set phrases he hears a lot, so he's just repeating the most common conjugation he knows.  But no, because he sometimes uses these and other verbs with other pronouns and in other tenses, and still conjugates them correctly.

To anyone who's studied another language, you'll know that it's really difficult to learn all the right conjugations and nail them every time.  It's a mix of conscious and unconscious effort, but if you're doing it correctly, there's no doubt that there is a complex, abstract mental process involved.  So hearing my little boy gurgle out correct conjugations really blows me away, because it means that in his mind he is speaking complete, perfect phrases, and it's just the physical speech apparatus that needs to catch up.  The mental part, which we'd normally assume is the more difficult and the later to bloom, is way ahead of the physical part in this case.

Anyway, I just thought that was a cool discovery.  Thanks Paulo.

The Confederate flag as symbol of US militarism

This is an interesting article linking the Confederate battle flag to the militaristic strain in US history and foreign policy.  It challenged a simplistic vision I've long held of the Confederate flag, and helped to answer a question I've always had about my people and my country.

My simplistic vision of the Stars and Bars has long been that it is a symbol of the greatest treason in the history of the US, the only serious existential threat we have ever had to our existence as a nation.  So it was always difficult for me to understand how anyone could wave the Confederate flag and declare themselves a loyal patriot of the Republic, especially while also declaring themselves vehemently opposed to what they perceive (and I do not perceive) as existential threats to the US (Islam, immigrants, human rights for blacks, etc.).  This article helps me to understand why not everyone subscribes to my cut-and-dried condemnation of the Confederate flag as totally incompatible with loyalty to the US.

The question I've long held is how to reconcile the ideals and the promise and the nobleness of the US, all the things I love about my country, with the many cynical and destructive actions we've taken or supported in the world, which I cannot support personally.  I think many people, both inside and outside the US, share this frustration and bewilderment with the simultaneous combination of noble ideals and immoral nihilism that the US sometimes seems to possess.  Anyway, the article's discussion of external expansionism and imperialism (what the author describes as a policy of endless war) as a means of responding to internal tensions and constituencies helped me to understand these contradictions a bit better.

Not for Profit by Martha Nussbaum

A while ago I read a book called “Notfor Profit:  Why Democracy Needs theHumanities” by Martha Nussbaum.  In it, she argues that humanistic education is key to a healthy democracy, and that both humanistic education and the democracy it underlies are in peril in the 21^st century.

Nussbaum focuses on three key elements of a humanistic education, which will ideally lead to empathy in students:  critical thought (fostered through the Socratic method of open-ended questioning and searching); creation of world citizens through exposure to viewpoints, cultural production, and in-person human contact with peoples different from our own; and finally, the arts as an avenue for exploration and communication of our humanity.  She frames these all as basic skills necessary for the practice of democracy, which I agree with, but I also see the lessons of the humanities as crucial for leading a decent, satisfying life.

On the note of empathy, one of Nussbaum’s most interesting themes for me was the idea of disgust as the ultimate root of injustice.  She argues that, from an early age, children in all societies are taught first a natural disgust for things that can actually be harmful—human feces, poisonous animals, rotten food.  But in many societies, this disgust is also coopted and placed onto certain groups of human beings—blacks, untouchables, women, infidels, gays, the poor, etc.  Children are taught early on and insistently to divert disgust to other people, and this serves as the foundation of much of the structural, systematic hatred and oppression we see across the world.  I agree with this assessment, because I have seen firsthand how parents teach their kids fear and disgust of the natural world and of natural bodily processes, and I have seen instances where this learned reaction is immediately, before my very eyes, translated by the child into pointing fingers and “othering” another kid.  Nussbaum associates this disgust-driven oppression with a feeling of helplessness, both among children and adults; if I feel insecure about myself, I am more likely to step on others to salve my own insecurities.  Interestingly, one of the educational strategies she outlines to get away from these feelings of helplessness is to teach children practical skills like cooking and fixing things.  I have not often heard such “vocational” education categorized under the umbrella of liberal arts, but Nussbaum’s inclusion of it goes with my own personal conviction (shared I think by my father) that general manual/practical skills and the humanities are equal parts of a sound education.  Both my father and I love to develop our intellects, but we also both chose to go to vocational high schools in order to cultivate more than just the intellectual mind.

A humanistic education fights against the impulse to disgust in a number of ways, per Nussbaum.  Learning to see the world critically and with an open mind simply doesn’t allow for received dogmas or irrational, unquestioned gut reactions to things.  Learning about the life experience and the ideas of people and cultures different from you forces you to question your own suppositions, even as you see certain incoherencies in the way those other cultures and people see the world.  And finally, the arts humanize and unite both artist and observer, drawing them away from the dynamic of separation and disgust.  Also, the arts cultivate the imagination, which allows us to envision realities and possibilities far beyond our own limited experience.

I believe that Nussbaum’s keys to democracy are also the way to live a good life—empathy for others, awareness of your place in a larger society, constant critical analysis, awareness of and appreciation for the diversity of humanity, a healthy imagination, and an exploration through the arts of what it means to be human.  A humanistic thinker, someone with a firm grounding in the areas that Nussbaum favors, is constantly questioning and learning.  If you live this way, you will not do things perfectly every time, but when you do do something incorrectly (whether morally or simply in practical terms), you will be able to step back and change course.  This contrasts with a highly specialized education, which prepares you to do one thing only, but to do it efficiently and perfectly almost every time. 

I’ve heard about people who train to be in the circus from the time they’re little kids.  They deliver breathtaking performances, but they don’t learn to do much else, to be flexible and changing, to be responsive to the larger world around them.  This is an extreme case, but it applies to some degree to any technical formation, like an expertise in computer or auto repair, an engineering or medical degree, or my degree in agronomy.  Next to these high-tech, complicated, specialized fields, a humanistic education doesn’t seem that special—what could be more basic than just learning to think, judge, and change based on the available evidence and your own imagination?  But though we are all called to live in this more human way, it seems really rare to meet people who actually do.  It is special to find such a critical, compassionate, aware person, much more special than meeting one who is able to execute a perfect trapeze handoff or a delicate brain surgery.  I feel that most of us are relatively set in our ways.  I read a quote from Kissinger once to the effect that elected officials cease to develop intellectually once they enter office, because they are removed from the new experiences afforded by regular life, as well as being bombarded by criticism to which they respond with an instinctive defensiveness of what they already believe.  I think this applies not just to people in high public office, but to a lesser degree it applies to all of us. 

That said, I am sometimes surprised by people who seem otherwise unremarkable, but who are indeed constantly, gradually changing how they see the world.  In almost everyone I know, even people I regard as very uncritical and complacent, I’ve seen or learned of moments in their adult lives when they make a major change in how they see the world or function within it.  So I guess on balance, I don’t know whether to think that we’re all hopelessly stuck in our respective ruts, or if we are all in fact flexible, thinking actors in our world.

Nussbaum’s book brought up again for me the juxtaposition of progressive private schools and homeschooling versus participating in the non-progressive public school system.  She cites a number of successful pedagogical experiments that took place through private schools with visionary leaders.  But the most progressive, enlightened school in the world, if it’s inherently separate from the schooling most people receive, sort of goes against the principles of solidarity, empathy, and public good that Nussbaum seems to advocate.  Remember, her argument is that a humanistic education is key to a democratic society.  But a democratic society can by definition not flourish if only an elite few have the tools and the formation to live in a civilized, just way.  Where is the space for belonging to and service to the larger community, if your school sets you apart from thecommunity, and even preaches that the rest of the community is gravely mistaken in their approach to teaching and life in general?  Perhaps the experience of Finland, of striving for equity in its public school system, can serve as a blueprint for achieving positive, progressive teaching without limiting it to a few exclusive enclaves.

Much of what Nussbaum promotes aligns nicely with the liberal paradigm—mutual respect, individual liberty, shared basic values underlying a larger diversity of approaches and lifestyles.  But her exploration of the humanistic roots of democracy also hints at a fundamental tension within liberalism.  If you respect others, truly respect and allow for each group’s customs, then you will find that even some of the shared basic values you thought were universal, are in fact not shared.  At that point the liberal paradigm becomes a bit imposing or even dictatorial, because it attempts to aggressively ignore, suppress, or convert values that run counter to it.  Likewise, the very idea of respecting and celebrating group identity often goes against a pure liberal conception of the individual as the basic unit of existence and meaning.  Nussbaum doesn’t really get into any of these issues, and because what she is advocating for is a more humanistic perspective, which I believe is ultimately broader, and more flexible and forgiving, than a strict liberal ideology, her position seems more attractive and coherent to me.  Nussbaum’s humanism also recognizes and allows for the non-rational side of humanity, in a way that the cold, strict Enlightment-era liberal dogmas do not. 

I wish to explore this tension between community, culture, and tradition on the one hand, and individual liberty and modern political paradigms on the other hand.  But this post is not the place for it; I hope to do so soon in an analysis of two other books I read recently about community-centered development processes.

United Airlines behaving badly

This is an article profiling how United Airlines (and most US companies, for that matter) is increasingly using profits in an extractive way, to enrich shareholders, as opposed to reinvesting profits in capital improvements or better compensation for labor.  It seems to illustrate the mechanism of how investors see their wealth grow faster than the economy as a whole, as Piketty demonstrates.  It's a shame for me to see a hometown company acting this way.

Not so fast, mobile technology

This is an interesting take on the future of the internet and mobile technology in general.  The author essentially argues that the internet as we know it today hasn't changed much in a decade or two, and is unlikely to do so.  He doesn't see this as cause for concern, but rather a call to make sure that we are indeed doing well the basics of internet (open access, agile browsers), so that it can bring its revolutionary possibilities to the other few billion people who will go online in the coming years.  Get the basics right, instead of looking for revolutionary changes in the platform, or even worse, a walled-garden, Facebook-type format that actually makes the internet less free and useful.

A stark reckoning of the Central American refugee crisis

This author argues that the flow of Central Americans fleeing violence has not significantly waned from its turn in the media spotlight last year, and that we in the US should be just as concerned about Central American refugees as about Syrian refugees.

Continuation of the child refugee crisis--same story, different border

This is a heartbreaking exposé on the continued Central American refugee crisis, which has not waned from last year so much as it has been shifted farther south from the US border, as Mexico becomes more zealous about detaining migrants.  The article's final conclusion:  "If a child is fleeing danger in his or her home country, and that child knocks on our door pleading for help, we should open the door".

Chicago's blue cart recycling program

Here's a cool description of what actually happens to residential recycling waste in Chicago, and I'm sure it's indicative of lots of other cities' programs of mixed recycling bins.

Parenting in the face of apocalypse

This is an insightful reflection from a mother on how to raise your kids when you know that our world, their world, is on the brink of thoroughgoing ecocide.  I feel it hits a lot of valid points, though from our current vantage point in a climate-vulnerable, impoverished country, the author's vision of a stark future world seems more like the reality plenty of people are already living.  The essay sometimes drifts into white liberal guilt-type hand-wringing, but it is worthwhile if for nothing else than for this admonition for parents to teach their kids:  "regulate your wants, consider others, be comfortable being alone, put yourself second, listen, be in solidarity, choose the harder path".

A philosophical consideration of inequality

Here is one philosopher's level-headed take on some of the arguments against reducing inequality.  He briefly cites Martha Nussbaum, whom I'll be discussing soon in a post.

White poverty in Chicago

This is a fascinating analysis of why Chicago doesn't have any neighborhoods of concentrated white poverty.  There are plenty of poor white folks in Chicago, and certainly neighborhoods that concentrate black or Latino poverty.  But no predominantly poor, predominantly white neighborhoods.

Amazon and the new economy, and Netflix

Here's an article on how the labor practices at Amazon.com are similar to those across the New [Digital] Economy.  It hints that such widespread abuse of labor may represent a recurrence of the conditions that originally inspired the rise of unions.  Here is a short bit on Netflix, expanding on the implications of these companies' offering very attractive benefits to high-skill professional employees while denying the same to the working-class footsoldiers of the operation, those who work in customer service and shipping.

Critical pedagogy from Henry Giroux

I just read an excellent essay by Henry Giroux opposing the totalitarian tendencies that predominate in much of US and world society, with the hope offered by critical pedagogy.  Quoth Giroux:

"At a time of increased repression, it is all the more crucial for educators to reject the notion that higher education is simply a site for training students for the workforce and that the culture of higher education is synonymous with the culture of business. At issue here is the need for educators to recognize the power of education in creating the formative cultures necessary to both challenge the various threats being mobilized against the ideas of justice and democracy while also fighting for those public spheres, ideals, values and policies that offer alternative modes of identity, thinking, social relations and politics."

Personally, my main concern about thought and education today, and perhaps the main thesis of this article, can be summed up in the quote: "an inattentiveness to the never-ending task of critique breeds horrors: the failures of conscience, the wars against thought, and the flirtations with irrationality that lie at the heart of the triumph of every-day aggression, the withering of political life, and the withdrawal into private obsessions".  I worry about a lack of critique in the world.  To this end, I make it my personal quest to always encourage critical thought in the people I encounter, especially kids.  The media offered to kids is so often little more than a marketing vehicle.  See for example the endless procession of movie remakes and sequels that are made not to elucidate or tell a good story, but simply because the producers calculated that the box office receipts and sales of associated merchandise (toys, lunchboxes, etc.) would offer a good return on investment.  In such an environment, it is easy for kids to limit their intellectual life to simply receiving, recognizing, and naming characters and logos.  In short, to mere consumption of symbols (and eventually of their associated sold products), when kids should really be creating their own symbols, characters, and narratives.  I can't tell you how many books we've seen in our library that consist in little more than page after page of "this is character XXX, he is defined by XXX traits".  It is a training for the brand recognition, categorization, and desire that underlie retail consumerism.

My wife's and my little contribution to this fight against unthinking consumption is that we keep our kids and others away from movies and other media whose aim is merely to sell junk.  And whenever we run across something that advances an antisocial message like thoughtless consumerism, sexism, racism, or selfishness, we work with those around us, especially kids, to question and criticize it, and in so doing to disarm its noxious effects.

Here's a closing nugget of wisdom from the article:  "Pedagogy is always political because it is connected to the struggle over agency. In this instance, making the pedagogical more political means being vigilant about those very 'moments in which identities are being produced and groups are being constituted, or objects are being created.'  At the same time it means educators need to be attentive to those practices in which critical modes of agency and particular identities are being denied."