Posts
Could the war in Vietnam really have been won? It is a common belief among American conservatives that it could have, had it been fought with no holds barred—and had the troops not been betrayed by politics back home.
I resist this argument. For one thing, it sounds too much like the “stabbed in the back” myth popular in Germany after the First World War. It is too easy for people who have lost to convince themselves they were cheated.
It is indeed clear from the records of both sides that, in fact, the Tet offensive in 1968 was a huge defeat for the Communists. It was actually their last-gasp attempt to seize power. “The Front had been fighting for a long time. Its generals were not sure they could continue. One big push, they told their people.” (Neale, A People’s History of the Vietnam War, p. 106).
Their desperate hope was that, given the opportunity, the cities would rise and support them. It did not happen. Their organization in the South was virtually wiped out in the operation.
Worse, according to Communist operatives, they lost a great deal of their popular support. They had been levying huge taxes on the promise that they would overthrow the government. They failed, and their wells of support were accordingly drying up.
In the event, though, the offensive convinced the American public that they wanted out.
Could the outcome have been different, then, had the Americans chose a different course? General Westmoreland in fact saw a great opportunity at the time, and wanted to administer the coup de grace. He wanted two hundred thousand more troops, which he would use to invade Cambodia and Laos to cut of the Ho Chi Minh Trail, and for an “Inchon-style” landing behind the front lines in North Vietnam.
The possibilities are intriguing. But personally, I don’t think it would have made any difference in the end. There were, reportedly, close to 170,000 Chinese troops in North Vietnam. Presumably, they were there as the proverbial “trip-wire”: if the US invaded the North, China was saying, it would come in.
And the domestic American situation really does need to be considered. As Johnson, the most skilled of politicians, understood, the American public would not have accepted this. The American armed forces might even have mutinied. When Nixon eventually did go in to Cambodia, there were serious consequences on the home front and in terms of US prestige abroad.
Meantime, the Communists had the perfect political platform to retain the support of the countryside. They simply promised that, if in power, they would take the land from the big landowners, and dole it out to the peasants. Since there were a lot more poor peasants than rich landowners, this won a lot of support.
Of course, it was a cruel lie. Once in power, they didn’t really do that. They took the land from the rich landowners, and gave it to themselves, as the government. The peasants continued to work someone else’s land for next to nothing. The party officials who benefited were even from the same class, as Neale points out, as the rich landowners.
But this proposition had the double advantage of being instantly understandable by the peasants, and obviously to their benefit. Abstractions like the right to vote or a free market were much less clear and much less clearly attractive.
This put the US in an untenable situation morally and ideologically from the start. They were supposed to be there for democracy. But the fact was that, had free elections been held, the Communists would have won.
Perhaps the one way the US might have won the war, once they had passed up on the Buddhist option, was by taking the money they were investing in war materiel, and using it instead to obviously improve the life of the peasants. It could have itself, for example, bought the land for a fair price from the large landowners, and doled it out to the peasants working it. And the US could have offered tax breaks to American firms setting up industries in the cities, factories offering good wages. This could even have been a profitable venture.
But then again, an even better, more honest, approach might have been to hold genuinely free and fair elections, watch the Communists win, and declare mission accomplished.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Coyne's prose
I just can't resist quoting a bit from Andrew Coyne's piece in today's National Post. Nobody does this sort of relentless logic better:
"The whole point of a minimum wage is that the market wage for some workers — the wage that would just balance the supply of and demand for unskilled, transient, or young workers in highly unstable service industries — is deemed to be too low. If, accordingly, it is fixed by law above the market level, it must be at a point where the supply exceeds the demand. Economists have a technical term for that gap. It’s called “unemployment.”
Advocates of minimum wages either reject that elementary logic, or they don’t care. ..."
A thing of beauty.
"The whole point of a minimum wage is that the market wage for some workers — the wage that would just balance the supply of and demand for unskilled, transient, or young workers in highly unstable service industries — is deemed to be too low. If, accordingly, it is fixed by law above the market level, it must be at a point where the supply exceeds the demand. Economists have a technical term for that gap. It’s called “unemployment.”
Advocates of minimum wages either reject that elementary logic, or they don’t care. ..."
A thing of beauty.
Marxism and Racism
I have said before in this space that Marxism’s notion of class and class warfare segues naturally and almost inevitably, as it did in Germany and Italy in the twenties, into racism and race warfare. Once you start the hunt for scapegoats, a foreign scapegoat is the best. And the very term “bourgeois” is telling: it means the people of the town. The people who, unlike peasants and landowners, were not tied down to the land. The people, mostly traders, most likely to have come from elsewhere, and to have contacts elsewhere.
I was aware already that in Vietnam, the hostility to “bourgeois” almost automatically became a hostility to the Chinese minority who tended to run the businesses in the South. Hence the sufferings and exodus of the “boat people.” I was unaware, until pointed out by Neale in his People’s History of the Vietnam War, that the same was true of the “Killing Fields” of Cambodia. Wiping out the “bourgeoisie” there actually began with wiping out the Muslim Cham and the Vietnamese minority in Cambodia.
I was aware already that in Vietnam, the hostility to “bourgeois” almost automatically became a hostility to the Chinese minority who tended to run the businesses in the South. Hence the sufferings and exodus of the “boat people.” I was unaware, until pointed out by Neale in his People’s History of the Vietnam War, that the same was true of the “Killing Fields” of Cambodia. Wiping out the “bourgeoisie” there actually began with wiping out the Muslim Cham and the Vietnamese minority in Cambodia.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
The Philippines: Islands Lost in Time
It is always reassuring to be back in the Philippines. To return to China is to be more than a little nostalgic at how it has changed. To return to Vietnam is to see all the cyclos gone and new scooters everywhere. But to go back to the Philippines is mostly to see everything the same as it was. Just a little seedier.
Why can’t the Philippines develop at the pace everywhere else in East, Southeast, and now even South Asia seems to? They even started ahead—in 1960 they were wealthier than Korea or Taiwan. They also have the obvious advantages of a large English-speaking population, perfect for call centres, and an American-modelled system that should be comfortable for US investors. They even seem to have a good education system, relatively speaking. Why isn’t the investment pouring in?
Indeed, it’s downright embarrassing, for Americans, that their piece of Asia stands out only for standing still.
An American friend argues that it is the Americans’ fault: they left the unfortunate Philippines not with the American system so much as with the New Deal and its tendency to bureaucracy. And bureaucracy in the Philippines is stifling.
But that doesn’t really explain it, to my mind. For one thing, bureaucracy has not stifled America itself in the years since 1945—even though it has actually grown since then, in America.
Nor is bureaucracy really likely to be a heavier burden in the PR than in pseudo-communist countries like China and Vietnam.
And much bureaucracy is made necessary by corruption. When documents are commonly forged, for example, it is that much more necessary to ask for additional forms of ID. When bribes are commonly paid, it makes sense to have two screenings instead of one.
The Filipinos themselves, to their credit, do not put the blame on their colonial experience. Nor does it seem fair. After all, they have been on their own since 1945. If Germany and Japan could rebuild, in the same period, from the rubble of lost war into world leadership, and Eastern Europe be already pulling out of the trauma of Soviet dominance up to 1989, there is little solace there for the Philippines.
My American friend also, frankly, blames Filipino laziness. A Thai with some Philippines experience does too. He insists the Philippines will never develop as quickly as Thailand because the Filipinos are just plain lazy by comparison.
It is not politically correct to say such things. But we must, in honesty, admit that there are national characteristics, and that laziness may be one of them. And observing Filipinos at home does leave me with this strong impression. One evening, I had supper in the hotel restaurant. When I wanted to pay the bill, all the waiters had disappeared. When one finally returned, and I offered her a bill requiring change, she would not get it for me. Instead, she waved me to the cashier to get it myself. Despite the fact that I was offering her a tip. (And despite the fact that she delivered my meal with no silverware.)
A couple of days earlier, I ordered an iced café latte in a Starbucks in Manila. When the order came, it was a hot café latte. When I brought it to the server and pointed this out, as politely as I could, she handed me a paper cup full of ice.
Another time, I walked into an empty restaurant for supper. I counted three waitresses and one waiter visible at the counter. It took me twenty minutes to catch someone’s eye and place an order. And that required raising my voice.
In Camiguin, a beautiful volcanic island which has become a tourist haven, our vacation was cut short by lack of funds. It is not that we didn’t have the money in the bank; it is that none of the banks on the island have an ATM hooked up to the international networks, and none will accept travellers’ checks. They apparently just cannot be bothered with the business.
This is not a case of a shortage of work: it is a shortage of people wanting to work. When you go out on errands in the morning, you never know what percentage you will be able to complete; because some shopkeepers will always have decided to take a spontaneous holiday. Government workers abandon their posts for days if there seems to be something better to do.
Mind, Filipinos abroad seem to work quite hard. (And if it is not prejudice to note this, why is it prejudice to note the opposite of those who stay home?)
When I pointed this out to my American friend, he suggested that this was because anyone who really wanted to work left the country.
The left traditionally blames the problem on the lack of land reform. They suppose that, if larger land holdings were seized by the government and doled out to the poor, all would be well.
Why not? It worked in Zimbabwe.
Or not.
It is hard to see how this would help the Philippine economy. In the first place, land is almost irrelevant to wealth in the post-industrial world. An influx of landless labour to the cities is just as likely—or more—to cause a boom in manufacturing or service industries. And in the second place, efficiencies probably argue, in the PR as in Canada, for farms to be larger, not smaller. Breaking up bigger farming operations is liable to slow the agricultural sector, so long as it is already in private hands. Indeed, when I asked a local agriculture department rep why the Philippines did not grow rubber (or cinnamon, or tea, or nutmeg…), a hugely profitable crop in Vietnam, she explained that it requires a large plantation, and these were rare in the Philippines. It is a nation of subsistence farmers.
The Filipinos themselves blame corruption. A taxi driver this morning claimed international studies reckon the Philippines the second most corrupt nation on earth.
This makes sense too of the apparent lack of initiative: corruption saps the drive to do anything, because results are not related to effort expended.
Partly, I suspect that “corruption” is a convenient alibi for many Filipinos. It is indeed grossly corrupt—fourteenth most corrupt country in the World, according to Transparency International, though, not second most corrupt. The tendency to exaggerate this might suggest a too-great willingness to believe it. If you don’t want to work hard in the first place, convincing yourself that there’s no advantage to doing so anyway helps salve the conscience.
And after all, if this is the problem, and everyone knows it is the problem, how did it happen? After all, the Philippines are a functioning democracy, and have been, except in the Marcos era, for some time. Why can’t the voters fix the problem by voting the rascals out?
Oddly, because the voters themselves seem to vote for corruption. My Filipina wife explains how the candidate who pays most for votes always wins in her home town. Now, I can understand poor people being prepared to promise their vote in exchange for money. But I can’t see why they would then vote the way they said, in the privacy of the booth. In the Philippines, a bought vote stays bought, as a matter of honour.
Filipinos can also, it seems, be counted on to vote for the scion of the local “big family”; it almost goes without saying that the senator from Camiguin province will have the last name Romualdo, while the senator from Agusan del Norte will be named Plaza. Surely, if either the corruption of the current elite or the concentration of land in too few hands were a genuine concern among the people, this would not happen.
Instead, the Philippines seems to be a genuine elective aristocracy. The people consider themselves tied to their feudal lords by mutual bonds: they owe the lord allegiance, and the lord, in turn, is supposed to look after them. That is, these days, to regularly give them money in one form or another. It does not seem to register that it is their own money.
An aristocracy, however, as opposed to a good old-fashioned bourgeois democracy, is a system that promotes idleness, not business. On the one hand, idleness is a trait of the upper classes, and is admired as such. It would be a scandal among these classes, as with the British upper class a century ago, to soil those hands with “trade.” A gentleman does not work for a living.
One sees traces of the same attitude in Filipinos all the time. Nothing is so important to the Filipina as to have pale skin, probably because this implies having avoided any hard outdoor labour. My wife was deeply impressed, when she shook Imelda Marcos’s hand, at the softness of her skin. Though young and fit, she also insists when home on riding everywhere in a tricycle, where I would walk as a matter of course.
To work hard, accordingly, is rather in bad taste. Better to win a lottery, or bet on a cockfight, or pan for gold, or marry a rich foreigner. At worst, perhaps better even to con, or pick pockets, or walk the streets for trade.
Every Filipino kid knows three words of English: “give me money!”
And, if one gets money, one immediately incurs certain obligations. One has a perceived moral obligation, as do the big families, to hand it around generously to relatives and neighbours—or failing this, to let them take it. This is difficult, if one does not hold a position allowing access to tax money, and acts in turn as a strong disincentive to actually acquiring anything. You’ll only end up losing it, or all your friends.
If one must come up with one word for this attitude, I guess “laziness” might do. But it is really a far more complex set of social expectations. Whatever word you use, it is an obvious impediment to material development.
Given all this, sending foreign aid to the Philippines is probably just a waste of money. So, perhaps, is investing in the Philippines. Accepting Filipino immigrants and guest workers may be something we can do: letting those who want to work do so.
And there may be something to the Filipino system, after all. Those who want to work, as my American friend observed, can leave. Historically, they always have. The Filipinos are seafarers; for centuries they have formed a good proportion of the world’s ships’ crews. Today, they account for about one fifth worldwide.
As long as working abroad is possible, from their point of view, why not preserve this part of the world, so beautiful and so tropical and so easy to live in, as a vacation or shore leave or retirement paradise? Why not keep it as they remember it? Let it develop, and it would only be more expensive to retire to.
Then where would they be?
Why can’t the Philippines develop at the pace everywhere else in East, Southeast, and now even South Asia seems to? They even started ahead—in 1960 they were wealthier than Korea or Taiwan. They also have the obvious advantages of a large English-speaking population, perfect for call centres, and an American-modelled system that should be comfortable for US investors. They even seem to have a good education system, relatively speaking. Why isn’t the investment pouring in?
Indeed, it’s downright embarrassing, for Americans, that their piece of Asia stands out only for standing still.
An American friend argues that it is the Americans’ fault: they left the unfortunate Philippines not with the American system so much as with the New Deal and its tendency to bureaucracy. And bureaucracy in the Philippines is stifling.
But that doesn’t really explain it, to my mind. For one thing, bureaucracy has not stifled America itself in the years since 1945—even though it has actually grown since then, in America.
Nor is bureaucracy really likely to be a heavier burden in the PR than in pseudo-communist countries like China and Vietnam.
And much bureaucracy is made necessary by corruption. When documents are commonly forged, for example, it is that much more necessary to ask for additional forms of ID. When bribes are commonly paid, it makes sense to have two screenings instead of one.
The Filipinos themselves, to their credit, do not put the blame on their colonial experience. Nor does it seem fair. After all, they have been on their own since 1945. If Germany and Japan could rebuild, in the same period, from the rubble of lost war into world leadership, and Eastern Europe be already pulling out of the trauma of Soviet dominance up to 1989, there is little solace there for the Philippines.
My American friend also, frankly, blames Filipino laziness. A Thai with some Philippines experience does too. He insists the Philippines will never develop as quickly as Thailand because the Filipinos are just plain lazy by comparison.
It is not politically correct to say such things. But we must, in honesty, admit that there are national characteristics, and that laziness may be one of them. And observing Filipinos at home does leave me with this strong impression. One evening, I had supper in the hotel restaurant. When I wanted to pay the bill, all the waiters had disappeared. When one finally returned, and I offered her a bill requiring change, she would not get it for me. Instead, she waved me to the cashier to get it myself. Despite the fact that I was offering her a tip. (And despite the fact that she delivered my meal with no silverware.)
A couple of days earlier, I ordered an iced café latte in a Starbucks in Manila. When the order came, it was a hot café latte. When I brought it to the server and pointed this out, as politely as I could, she handed me a paper cup full of ice.
Another time, I walked into an empty restaurant for supper. I counted three waitresses and one waiter visible at the counter. It took me twenty minutes to catch someone’s eye and place an order. And that required raising my voice.
In Camiguin, a beautiful volcanic island which has become a tourist haven, our vacation was cut short by lack of funds. It is not that we didn’t have the money in the bank; it is that none of the banks on the island have an ATM hooked up to the international networks, and none will accept travellers’ checks. They apparently just cannot be bothered with the business.
This is not a case of a shortage of work: it is a shortage of people wanting to work. When you go out on errands in the morning, you never know what percentage you will be able to complete; because some shopkeepers will always have decided to take a spontaneous holiday. Government workers abandon their posts for days if there seems to be something better to do.
Mind, Filipinos abroad seem to work quite hard. (And if it is not prejudice to note this, why is it prejudice to note the opposite of those who stay home?)
When I pointed this out to my American friend, he suggested that this was because anyone who really wanted to work left the country.
The left traditionally blames the problem on the lack of land reform. They suppose that, if larger land holdings were seized by the government and doled out to the poor, all would be well.
Why not? It worked in Zimbabwe.
Or not.
It is hard to see how this would help the Philippine economy. In the first place, land is almost irrelevant to wealth in the post-industrial world. An influx of landless labour to the cities is just as likely—or more—to cause a boom in manufacturing or service industries. And in the second place, efficiencies probably argue, in the PR as in Canada, for farms to be larger, not smaller. Breaking up bigger farming operations is liable to slow the agricultural sector, so long as it is already in private hands. Indeed, when I asked a local agriculture department rep why the Philippines did not grow rubber (or cinnamon, or tea, or nutmeg…), a hugely profitable crop in Vietnam, she explained that it requires a large plantation, and these were rare in the Philippines. It is a nation of subsistence farmers.
The Filipinos themselves blame corruption. A taxi driver this morning claimed international studies reckon the Philippines the second most corrupt nation on earth.
This makes sense too of the apparent lack of initiative: corruption saps the drive to do anything, because results are not related to effort expended.
Partly, I suspect that “corruption” is a convenient alibi for many Filipinos. It is indeed grossly corrupt—fourteenth most corrupt country in the World, according to Transparency International, though, not second most corrupt. The tendency to exaggerate this might suggest a too-great willingness to believe it. If you don’t want to work hard in the first place, convincing yourself that there’s no advantage to doing so anyway helps salve the conscience.
And after all, if this is the problem, and everyone knows it is the problem, how did it happen? After all, the Philippines are a functioning democracy, and have been, except in the Marcos era, for some time. Why can’t the voters fix the problem by voting the rascals out?
Oddly, because the voters themselves seem to vote for corruption. My Filipina wife explains how the candidate who pays most for votes always wins in her home town. Now, I can understand poor people being prepared to promise their vote in exchange for money. But I can’t see why they would then vote the way they said, in the privacy of the booth. In the Philippines, a bought vote stays bought, as a matter of honour.
Filipinos can also, it seems, be counted on to vote for the scion of the local “big family”; it almost goes without saying that the senator from Camiguin province will have the last name Romualdo, while the senator from Agusan del Norte will be named Plaza. Surely, if either the corruption of the current elite or the concentration of land in too few hands were a genuine concern among the people, this would not happen.
Instead, the Philippines seems to be a genuine elective aristocracy. The people consider themselves tied to their feudal lords by mutual bonds: they owe the lord allegiance, and the lord, in turn, is supposed to look after them. That is, these days, to regularly give them money in one form or another. It does not seem to register that it is their own money.
An aristocracy, however, as opposed to a good old-fashioned bourgeois democracy, is a system that promotes idleness, not business. On the one hand, idleness is a trait of the upper classes, and is admired as such. It would be a scandal among these classes, as with the British upper class a century ago, to soil those hands with “trade.” A gentleman does not work for a living.
One sees traces of the same attitude in Filipinos all the time. Nothing is so important to the Filipina as to have pale skin, probably because this implies having avoided any hard outdoor labour. My wife was deeply impressed, when she shook Imelda Marcos’s hand, at the softness of her skin. Though young and fit, she also insists when home on riding everywhere in a tricycle, where I would walk as a matter of course.
To work hard, accordingly, is rather in bad taste. Better to win a lottery, or bet on a cockfight, or pan for gold, or marry a rich foreigner. At worst, perhaps better even to con, or pick pockets, or walk the streets for trade.
Every Filipino kid knows three words of English: “give me money!”
And, if one gets money, one immediately incurs certain obligations. One has a perceived moral obligation, as do the big families, to hand it around generously to relatives and neighbours—or failing this, to let them take it. This is difficult, if one does not hold a position allowing access to tax money, and acts in turn as a strong disincentive to actually acquiring anything. You’ll only end up losing it, or all your friends.
If one must come up with one word for this attitude, I guess “laziness” might do. But it is really a far more complex set of social expectations. Whatever word you use, it is an obvious impediment to material development.
Given all this, sending foreign aid to the Philippines is probably just a waste of money. So, perhaps, is investing in the Philippines. Accepting Filipino immigrants and guest workers may be something we can do: letting those who want to work do so.
And there may be something to the Filipino system, after all. Those who want to work, as my American friend observed, can leave. Historically, they always have. The Filipinos are seafarers; for centuries they have formed a good proportion of the world’s ships’ crews. Today, they account for about one fifth worldwide.
As long as working abroad is possible, from their point of view, why not preserve this part of the world, so beautiful and so tropical and so easy to live in, as a vacation or shore leave or retirement paradise? Why not keep it as they remember it? Let it develop, and it would only be more expensive to retire to.
Then where would they be?
Monday, January 08, 2007
Happy Feet: Unidentified Flying Objections
Happy Feet offers an interesting message to our children. The new animated feature is visually striking; though it crucially cannot convincingly convey its own central image, that of a penguin tap dancing. But a large part of the theme of the piece seems to be that religion is a bad thing.
There are two obviously religious figures in the movie: an old penguin with a Scottish accent, “Noah the Elder,” who advocates the worship of a divine penguin, “Guin,” and who is the recognized religious leader of the flock; and a fat rockhopper penguin, “Lovelace,” with bit of plastic lid from a six-pack stuck around his neck as a “sacred talisman,” who leads another group. Noah obviously represents Calvinism: he is mortally opposed, of course, to dancing. He is also opposed to all new ideas, all non-conformity. And, the movie points out, he contradicts himself. Not a sympathetic portrayal of one large branch of Christianity.
Lovelace, equally obviously, represents Pentecostalism. He claims to have the answers to all questions, thanks to his “mystic inspiration”; but demands money before he will pronounce. He is also sexually profligate, and admits later to being a plain fraud.
There is one more religious image—of a small church on a hill. It appears at the end of a journey, and I thought briefly that it might represent some sort of positive reference. But no—the camera’s eye sweeps down the hill, to pollution below. It is there only, I gather, to show hypocrisy, as introduction to and apparent symbol for a race of beings referred to as “the destroyers” (humans, of course). They kill everything that comes near and leave the waters littered with garbage. Presumably if the church were not there this would not be so.
Talk about being clubbed on the head like a baby seal with anti-Christian propaganda.
These harsh caricatures might be acceptable, and lift the film out of the realm of mere hate speech, if the movie offered some valid spiritual, and, properly, recognizably Christian, alternative. But what is its proposed truth, to answer man’s and penguin’s spiritual strivings? To solve the intractable problems of the world?
UFOs. No kidding. UFOs and alien abductions. Okay, and maybe an international ban on fishing. No credulously believing in things like God and the afterlife here; our children are urged instead to believe that our ultimate welfare is in the hands of a superior race of alien beings. And what is our proper response to this revelation? Simple: they will treat us well if we are cute and can amuse them.
I worry. The same day we saw the movie together, I was sitting with my five year old, and talking with him about a Christmas tree. He pointed to the star on top, and I told him it represented the star in the night sky over Bethlehem that guided the wise men to the baby Jesus.
He turned to me and responded, matter-of-factly, “There is no Jesus.”
Where, at his age, is he getting this? Not growing up in a family of practicing Catholics. At kindergarten? On the playground? Or from the media?
Talking, tapdancing penguins he has no trouble with. But Jesus? Obviously piffle.
A brief word about our sponsors…
To be fair, perhaps here I should give my own opinion of the whole UFO-visiting-aliens concept. That aliens from other planets are visiting earth, I have no problem with. Yet, as I understand it, requires some of the accepted laws of physics to be overcome. Of course, our knowledge is not perfect, and this may be possible. But believing in aliens is therefore obviously unscientific, in a way believing in God clearly is not.
Second, let’s allow that some other group of physical beings might be sufficiently advanced in material technology to be capable of visiting our planet. Why would they want to? Presumably, if they are that advanced, there is nothing much we can offer them in either material or intellectual terms. If there were, what could be worthwhile hauling back across those vast interstellar distances?
All I can think of is scientific study, or the idle curiosity we feel visiting a zoo. But if so, such a materially advanced civilization would surely have no need to come here physically. They could accomplish as much with, say, captured light and radio waves; at an extreme, with robot drones.
No, Occam’s Razor assumes that, when they are not swamp gas or weather balloons, UFOs are much more likely to be spiritual or mental than physical entities.
There are two obviously religious figures in the movie: an old penguin with a Scottish accent, “Noah the Elder,” who advocates the worship of a divine penguin, “Guin,” and who is the recognized religious leader of the flock; and a fat rockhopper penguin, “Lovelace,” with bit of plastic lid from a six-pack stuck around his neck as a “sacred talisman,” who leads another group. Noah obviously represents Calvinism: he is mortally opposed, of course, to dancing. He is also opposed to all new ideas, all non-conformity. And, the movie points out, he contradicts himself. Not a sympathetic portrayal of one large branch of Christianity.
Lovelace, equally obviously, represents Pentecostalism. He claims to have the answers to all questions, thanks to his “mystic inspiration”; but demands money before he will pronounce. He is also sexually profligate, and admits later to being a plain fraud.
There is one more religious image—of a small church on a hill. It appears at the end of a journey, and I thought briefly that it might represent some sort of positive reference. But no—the camera’s eye sweeps down the hill, to pollution below. It is there only, I gather, to show hypocrisy, as introduction to and apparent symbol for a race of beings referred to as “the destroyers” (humans, of course). They kill everything that comes near and leave the waters littered with garbage. Presumably if the church were not there this would not be so.
Talk about being clubbed on the head like a baby seal with anti-Christian propaganda.
These harsh caricatures might be acceptable, and lift the film out of the realm of mere hate speech, if the movie offered some valid spiritual, and, properly, recognizably Christian, alternative. But what is its proposed truth, to answer man’s and penguin’s spiritual strivings? To solve the intractable problems of the world?
UFOs. No kidding. UFOs and alien abductions. Okay, and maybe an international ban on fishing. No credulously believing in things like God and the afterlife here; our children are urged instead to believe that our ultimate welfare is in the hands of a superior race of alien beings. And what is our proper response to this revelation? Simple: they will treat us well if we are cute and can amuse them.
I worry. The same day we saw the movie together, I was sitting with my five year old, and talking with him about a Christmas tree. He pointed to the star on top, and I told him it represented the star in the night sky over Bethlehem that guided the wise men to the baby Jesus.
He turned to me and responded, matter-of-factly, “There is no Jesus.”
Where, at his age, is he getting this? Not growing up in a family of practicing Catholics. At kindergarten? On the playground? Or from the media?
Talking, tapdancing penguins he has no trouble with. But Jesus? Obviously piffle.
A brief word about our sponsors…
To be fair, perhaps here I should give my own opinion of the whole UFO-visiting-aliens concept. That aliens from other planets are visiting earth, I have no problem with. Yet, as I understand it, requires some of the accepted laws of physics to be overcome. Of course, our knowledge is not perfect, and this may be possible. But believing in aliens is therefore obviously unscientific, in a way believing in God clearly is not.
Second, let’s allow that some other group of physical beings might be sufficiently advanced in material technology to be capable of visiting our planet. Why would they want to? Presumably, if they are that advanced, there is nothing much we can offer them in either material or intellectual terms. If there were, what could be worthwhile hauling back across those vast interstellar distances?
All I can think of is scientific study, or the idle curiosity we feel visiting a zoo. But if so, such a materially advanced civilization would surely have no need to come here physically. They could accomplish as much with, say, captured light and radio waves; at an extreme, with robot drones.
No, Occam’s Razor assumes that, when they are not swamp gas or weather balloons, UFOs are much more likely to be spiritual or mental than physical entities.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Coming Soon to a Classroom near You: Lord of the Flies
I was trapped a few years ago in a room full of earnest educators for a talk by a high-paid expert from McGill. He had been flown across the continent to advise all of us in the English Department of that College on how to teach writing. In a full day of talking, he made only one point, or rather, assertion: writing must be taught in groups. All group decisions must be by consensus. No students should have any defined roles or tasks.
What if the students didn’t like it? Anyone who regularly dissented was to be disciplined as a “bully.”
This approach has obviously been sanctioned by social science studies, and officially found to be highly effective—because I keep coming across it. It is something of a social science dogma. This one instance sticks especially in mind because of the obvious weirdness of teaching writing in particular, a profoundly solitary pursuit, as a group activity. Yet as far as one could tell from this expert, this was the whole trick—nothing else need be done by the teacher but to enforce the group model, and good writing would apparently result.
Odd that Shakespeare or Milton never twigged to the idea.
I suspect that a large part of the attraction of the “group work” model in teaching writing—maybe in teaching other things as well—is that it covers up a tricky problem: nobody actually knows how to teach writing, and most writing teachers probably cannot even write particularly well themselves. Concentrate on group work, and you’re off the hook. You can even refuse to answer any student questions germane to the subject.
Of course, the students don’t learn anything.
Sometimes group work is valuable and necessary, and I am the first to advocate that students be taught how to conduct a meeting. But note the bizarre riders, that decisions must be by consensus and nobody should have an assigned task. Group meetings can work if and only if run under proper rules of order. These riders short-circuit any attempt to do that. They seem designed to force the groups into stalemate over procedure and so to avoid tackling the subject itself. The more so since most people find it easier to talk than to write: group discussion seems an excellent excuse to avoid writing altogether.
In all cases, group work is likely to frustrate any particularly good student. It is not just that he or she will have to carry the rest of the group intellectually; it is unfair to expect more work of the bright, but that would not be the big problem. It is that he will have to explain all his ideas and win the rest of the group over to them. In this, he will be fighting against two tendencies: first, resentment against someone who “does all the talking” or gets all of his ideas adopted—against, in sum, anyone smarter than we are; second, the genuine difficulty the less bright have in grasping the ideas of the more bright. For the poor prodigy, it will be like wearing lead shoes while swimming in molasses. He is very likely to be singled out, as well, as a “bully” for being the one the rest of the group resents—or for expressing his resentment of the process.
Any student who wants to work too hard will face many of the same problems: group consensus will fight against him.
So much for excellence.
As for the weakest students, group work gives them useful camouflage. In a group, they can avoid work; group members who give a damn will be forced to carry them. They can pass, even without having to work or learn.
Worse, given the sort of universal group approach currently advocated, they will graduate without anyone knowing this.
Without rules, it is most likely to be the participant with the strongest will—the natural bully, in fact—who wins out. He is prepared to push the hardest; the others, without rules to appeal to, will eventually give up, back off, throw in the towel out of exhaustion. It would all be rather like Lord of the Flies, that fictional paradigm of children living in groups without rules. Ralph, the responsible one, is doomed. Piglet, the bright one, is doomed. Simon, the odd one, is doomed.
Welcome to the brave new world of education.
Lots of fun for Jack and the choir, though.
What if the students didn’t like it? Anyone who regularly dissented was to be disciplined as a “bully.”
This approach has obviously been sanctioned by social science studies, and officially found to be highly effective—because I keep coming across it. It is something of a social science dogma. This one instance sticks especially in mind because of the obvious weirdness of teaching writing in particular, a profoundly solitary pursuit, as a group activity. Yet as far as one could tell from this expert, this was the whole trick—nothing else need be done by the teacher but to enforce the group model, and good writing would apparently result.
Odd that Shakespeare or Milton never twigged to the idea.
I suspect that a large part of the attraction of the “group work” model in teaching writing—maybe in teaching other things as well—is that it covers up a tricky problem: nobody actually knows how to teach writing, and most writing teachers probably cannot even write particularly well themselves. Concentrate on group work, and you’re off the hook. You can even refuse to answer any student questions germane to the subject.
Of course, the students don’t learn anything.
Sometimes group work is valuable and necessary, and I am the first to advocate that students be taught how to conduct a meeting. But note the bizarre riders, that decisions must be by consensus and nobody should have an assigned task. Group meetings can work if and only if run under proper rules of order. These riders short-circuit any attempt to do that. They seem designed to force the groups into stalemate over procedure and so to avoid tackling the subject itself. The more so since most people find it easier to talk than to write: group discussion seems an excellent excuse to avoid writing altogether.
In all cases, group work is likely to frustrate any particularly good student. It is not just that he or she will have to carry the rest of the group intellectually; it is unfair to expect more work of the bright, but that would not be the big problem. It is that he will have to explain all his ideas and win the rest of the group over to them. In this, he will be fighting against two tendencies: first, resentment against someone who “does all the talking” or gets all of his ideas adopted—against, in sum, anyone smarter than we are; second, the genuine difficulty the less bright have in grasping the ideas of the more bright. For the poor prodigy, it will be like wearing lead shoes while swimming in molasses. He is very likely to be singled out, as well, as a “bully” for being the one the rest of the group resents—or for expressing his resentment of the process.
Any student who wants to work too hard will face many of the same problems: group consensus will fight against him.
So much for excellence.
As for the weakest students, group work gives them useful camouflage. In a group, they can avoid work; group members who give a damn will be forced to carry them. They can pass, even without having to work or learn.
Worse, given the sort of universal group approach currently advocated, they will graduate without anyone knowing this.
Without rules, it is most likely to be the participant with the strongest will—the natural bully, in fact—who wins out. He is prepared to push the hardest; the others, without rules to appeal to, will eventually give up, back off, throw in the towel out of exhaustion. It would all be rather like Lord of the Flies, that fictional paradigm of children living in groups without rules. Ralph, the responsible one, is doomed. Piglet, the bright one, is doomed. Simon, the odd one, is doomed.
Welcome to the brave new world of education.
Lots of fun for Jack and the choir, though.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
The Real World of Democracy
Here’s the riddle: how could the British hold Iraq under mandate for many years, 1919-1958 or so, with nominal forces, yet the Americans now cannot keep reasonable order with two hundred thousand?
Or consider the parallel of Vietnam. How could the French hold all of Indochina from 1885 to 1945 with only 14,000 or so troops, yet the US could not hold it with 500,000?
Are the Americans simply incompetent?
Not militarily; perhaps diplomatically. The answer seems to be that it is much easier to hold a country as a colony than to turn it into a democracy.
And this stands to reason. Making a democracy is not merely a matter of holding elections. Elections are not going to produce a viable government unless there are existing organizations—parties, if you will—with established lines of authority, ready to run in them and then, if they win, step in and take over government in an orderly fashion.
Such organizations may be thick on the ground in established democracies. But in a country that has previously had an autocratic government, this is unlikely to be the case. For the simple reason that, in order to seize and hold power, an autocratic government is likely to systematically suppress all such organizations.
There are only two likely exceptions. Most obvious is the armed forces. By its nature, it has the discipline and command structure to operate as a large unit. This is far more important than its possession of weapons. Autocratic governments are caught in a bind here: they hobble or suppress the army, they leave themselves vulnerable to threats from without. Accordingly, the army is the most common source of government overthrow.
Unfortunately, in Iraq, the US disbanded the army. Therefore, it could not be used as an alternative government. In Vietnam, similarly, there was no established, professional Vietnamese officer corps when the American became involved. Defense had been the business of the French, at least at higher levels.
The second possibility is a religious organization. This is why the mosque, and “Islamism,” is the centre of opposition to Middle Eastern governments generally today: it is not easy for an autocratic government to suppress a majority religion, though many have tried. That religious structure, organization, and system of loyalties can then be adapted as a political tool. This worked very effectively, for example, in casting off repressive governments in Communist Poland, in British India, and among blacks in the US South. It is why the government of China is so concerned about Falun Gong.
Unfortunately, with the Shiites in Iraq, as with the Buddhists in Vietnam, the US finds this an unacceptable option. Indeed, faced with a Buddhist demand for popular elections in Vietnam, the US opposed them—because they feared the Buddhist parties would win. Similarly, Donald Rumsfeld is on record saying that Iraq can have any sort of government it wants—except a religious one.
This perhaps reveals a disturbing and self-destructive anti-religious prejudice on the part of US policymakers—anti-Buddhist in the 1960s, anti-Islam today.
But there is also some reason for concern. Majority rule is always dangerous to minorities. Democracy can, accordingly, be a disaster in terms of human rights. The US tends to think of the two as going together; they do not. Hitler, for example, was democratically elected. To create a democracy that is prepared to respect the rights of the minority is no small accomplishment.
And so, in both Vietnam and Iraq, minorities have had reason to fear democracy: Catholics, Cao Daists, and Montagnards in Vietnam, Catholics, Kurds, and Sunnis in Iraq. Accordingly, the attempt to establish majority rule is quite likely to lead to civil war. It happened in South Vietnam; it happened in Ireland; it happened in India. Heck, it happened in the US. It seems to be happening in Iraq.
And then there’s the very hardest bit: not only do you need organizations outside government, and plausible guarantees of respect for minority rights. You also need a gentleman’s agreement that, once in power, you will leave the doors open to the other side to one day overthrow you. And perhaps then hang you. That’s asking a lot, and requires massive trust on all sides. But without it, the first free election is also going to be the last.
Unfortunately, the US may have just blown that one as well, with the hanging of Saddam Hussein.
So: in Iraq, how does one get there from here? Given all the mistakes that have already been made?
The Americans are not likely to want to hear it, but my answer is this: historically, the situation most likely to transition to a working democracy appears to be a monarchy. An established, secure monarch can always run the experiment with the proviso that, should things get out of hand, he can step in and call a new election or appoint a new prime minister or even take back the reins of government for a time. If trusted personally, he can stand as guarantor for any threatened minority, and for any defeated government. This has worked to peacefully produce democracy in the UK, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, the Netherlands, Spain, Thailand, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, India, Malaysia, Belgium; to a lesser extent, a period of monarchy seems to have aided the transition in Japan, Italy, Cambodia, the US, and Greece.
It also, not incidentally, worked passably well for the British in Iraq. Finding the country too hot to handle at first, they brought in Faisal ibn Husayn, made him king through a plebiscite, gave him a constitution including an elected assembly, and retired comfortably to the background for the rest of the mandate.
It worked once, and could still work again.
Failing this, military regimes can also sometimes produce democracy; again with the military able to step in to referee if things go sour. This has worked, if not always smoothly, in Turkey, Argentina, Chile, Korea, Taiwan. In a sense, it worked in the US: George Washington, a military leader, got things on their feet, and eventually handed over to a civilian regime.
Can a religious regime also produce democracy? Yes indeed: they have in Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Utah, Maryland, Maine, New Hampshire, Holland, Switzerland. It was the origin of one of the world’s oldest democracies, San Marino. Again, the religious authority, if generally respected, can serve as a guarantor and a referee in those first few, awkward years of building trust. The same process may be taking place right now in Iran—but again, the US doesn’t like it, because its leaders have come, despite its own history, to fear religion.
And religious regimes have a natural check—the ethics of that religion—against turning into a bloodthirsty tyranny, which military regimes and aristocracies do not.
The specific moral I would derive here is that the US should lose its anti-religious prejudice, and cooperate fully with the Shiite clerics in Iraq. With the sectarian tensions, it might be well too to float the idea of a return of the Hashemite throne of Iraq; though that would at this late date require a rewritten constitution.
The general moral: strong independent organizations outside government are our ultimate guarantee of liberty. Resist any government that seeks to disempower them.
Or consider the parallel of Vietnam. How could the French hold all of Indochina from 1885 to 1945 with only 14,000 or so troops, yet the US could not hold it with 500,000?
Are the Americans simply incompetent?
Not militarily; perhaps diplomatically. The answer seems to be that it is much easier to hold a country as a colony than to turn it into a democracy.
And this stands to reason. Making a democracy is not merely a matter of holding elections. Elections are not going to produce a viable government unless there are existing organizations—parties, if you will—with established lines of authority, ready to run in them and then, if they win, step in and take over government in an orderly fashion.
Such organizations may be thick on the ground in established democracies. But in a country that has previously had an autocratic government, this is unlikely to be the case. For the simple reason that, in order to seize and hold power, an autocratic government is likely to systematically suppress all such organizations.
There are only two likely exceptions. Most obvious is the armed forces. By its nature, it has the discipline and command structure to operate as a large unit. This is far more important than its possession of weapons. Autocratic governments are caught in a bind here: they hobble or suppress the army, they leave themselves vulnerable to threats from without. Accordingly, the army is the most common source of government overthrow.
Unfortunately, in Iraq, the US disbanded the army. Therefore, it could not be used as an alternative government. In Vietnam, similarly, there was no established, professional Vietnamese officer corps when the American became involved. Defense had been the business of the French, at least at higher levels.
The second possibility is a religious organization. This is why the mosque, and “Islamism,” is the centre of opposition to Middle Eastern governments generally today: it is not easy for an autocratic government to suppress a majority religion, though many have tried. That religious structure, organization, and system of loyalties can then be adapted as a political tool. This worked very effectively, for example, in casting off repressive governments in Communist Poland, in British India, and among blacks in the US South. It is why the government of China is so concerned about Falun Gong.
Unfortunately, with the Shiites in Iraq, as with the Buddhists in Vietnam, the US finds this an unacceptable option. Indeed, faced with a Buddhist demand for popular elections in Vietnam, the US opposed them—because they feared the Buddhist parties would win. Similarly, Donald Rumsfeld is on record saying that Iraq can have any sort of government it wants—except a religious one.
This perhaps reveals a disturbing and self-destructive anti-religious prejudice on the part of US policymakers—anti-Buddhist in the 1960s, anti-Islam today.
But there is also some reason for concern. Majority rule is always dangerous to minorities. Democracy can, accordingly, be a disaster in terms of human rights. The US tends to think of the two as going together; they do not. Hitler, for example, was democratically elected. To create a democracy that is prepared to respect the rights of the minority is no small accomplishment.
And so, in both Vietnam and Iraq, minorities have had reason to fear democracy: Catholics, Cao Daists, and Montagnards in Vietnam, Catholics, Kurds, and Sunnis in Iraq. Accordingly, the attempt to establish majority rule is quite likely to lead to civil war. It happened in South Vietnam; it happened in Ireland; it happened in India. Heck, it happened in the US. It seems to be happening in Iraq.
And then there’s the very hardest bit: not only do you need organizations outside government, and plausible guarantees of respect for minority rights. You also need a gentleman’s agreement that, once in power, you will leave the doors open to the other side to one day overthrow you. And perhaps then hang you. That’s asking a lot, and requires massive trust on all sides. But without it, the first free election is also going to be the last.
Unfortunately, the US may have just blown that one as well, with the hanging of Saddam Hussein.
So: in Iraq, how does one get there from here? Given all the mistakes that have already been made?
The Americans are not likely to want to hear it, but my answer is this: historically, the situation most likely to transition to a working democracy appears to be a monarchy. An established, secure monarch can always run the experiment with the proviso that, should things get out of hand, he can step in and call a new election or appoint a new prime minister or even take back the reins of government for a time. If trusted personally, he can stand as guarantor for any threatened minority, and for any defeated government. This has worked to peacefully produce democracy in the UK, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, the Netherlands, Spain, Thailand, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, India, Malaysia, Belgium; to a lesser extent, a period of monarchy seems to have aided the transition in Japan, Italy, Cambodia, the US, and Greece.
It also, not incidentally, worked passably well for the British in Iraq. Finding the country too hot to handle at first, they brought in Faisal ibn Husayn, made him king through a plebiscite, gave him a constitution including an elected assembly, and retired comfortably to the background for the rest of the mandate.
It worked once, and could still work again.
Failing this, military regimes can also sometimes produce democracy; again with the military able to step in to referee if things go sour. This has worked, if not always smoothly, in Turkey, Argentina, Chile, Korea, Taiwan. In a sense, it worked in the US: George Washington, a military leader, got things on their feet, and eventually handed over to a civilian regime.
Can a religious regime also produce democracy? Yes indeed: they have in Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Utah, Maryland, Maine, New Hampshire, Holland, Switzerland. It was the origin of one of the world’s oldest democracies, San Marino. Again, the religious authority, if generally respected, can serve as a guarantor and a referee in those first few, awkward years of building trust. The same process may be taking place right now in Iran—but again, the US doesn’t like it, because its leaders have come, despite its own history, to fear religion.
And religious regimes have a natural check—the ethics of that religion—against turning into a bloodthirsty tyranny, which military regimes and aristocracies do not.
The specific moral I would derive here is that the US should lose its anti-religious prejudice, and cooperate fully with the Shiite clerics in Iraq. With the sectarian tensions, it might be well too to float the idea of a return of the Hashemite throne of Iraq; though that would at this late date require a rewritten constitution.
The general moral: strong independent organizations outside government are our ultimate guarantee of liberty. Resist any government that seeks to disempower them.
Friday, January 05, 2007
A Child's Right to Work
A recent worldwide survey claims teenagers in the Third World are up to six times happier than those in the developed world.
Now, it is one thing to accept that wealth cannot buy happiness. But this seems to suggest that it actually leads to misery.
But I suspect the real issue here is not wealth at all. It is education.
Do-gooders in the West protest a great deal the use of “child labour” in the undeveloped world. After all, these kids should be in school, right?
Leaving aside the obvious problem that there are no schools to go to, though, who really thinks school is more fun or fulfilling than work? And did they have the same teachers I did?
Not usually. And, perhaps more to the point, it pays far worse. Teenagers in the Third World are already adults, in control of their own lives, and making their own decisions. That feels pretty good. Teenagers in the First World, full of the vitality of youth, are stuck in endless classes, required to obey teachers’ arbitrary commands, almost always taught things that, even when true or somewhat interesting, will be of little use to them in their later lives. How many jobs really require calculus or fluency in French?
This, of course, would be even truer in the Third World, where the only job on offer is usually agricultural labour.
We enlightened first-worlders nevertheless force our young through years of appalling ennui, poverty, and external control. They are fully equipped for it, physically and intellectually, but we will not let them take control of their own lives, marry, and have children. We will not let them earn a living, or do as they wish with their days. Imagine doing this to any distinct segment of the adult population, and the proper term for it would be “slavery.”
And we have the gall to condemn the Third World for not following suit? At the same time, insisting with perfect inconsistency that they must make their women work outside the home, but must not permit their children to do so.
Those from the First World who go off to teach in the Third are almost always struck by the same thought: outside the West, there seems to be no such phenomenon as “adolescence.” People just seem to go one day from childhood to adulthood.
Those who well remember adolescence will recognize this as a good thing.
Let’s send the little beggars down the mines where they belong.
Now, it is one thing to accept that wealth cannot buy happiness. But this seems to suggest that it actually leads to misery.
But I suspect the real issue here is not wealth at all. It is education.
Do-gooders in the West protest a great deal the use of “child labour” in the undeveloped world. After all, these kids should be in school, right?
Leaving aside the obvious problem that there are no schools to go to, though, who really thinks school is more fun or fulfilling than work? And did they have the same teachers I did?
Not usually. And, perhaps more to the point, it pays far worse. Teenagers in the Third World are already adults, in control of their own lives, and making their own decisions. That feels pretty good. Teenagers in the First World, full of the vitality of youth, are stuck in endless classes, required to obey teachers’ arbitrary commands, almost always taught things that, even when true or somewhat interesting, will be of little use to them in their later lives. How many jobs really require calculus or fluency in French?
This, of course, would be even truer in the Third World, where the only job on offer is usually agricultural labour.
We enlightened first-worlders nevertheless force our young through years of appalling ennui, poverty, and external control. They are fully equipped for it, physically and intellectually, but we will not let them take control of their own lives, marry, and have children. We will not let them earn a living, or do as they wish with their days. Imagine doing this to any distinct segment of the adult population, and the proper term for it would be “slavery.”
And we have the gall to condemn the Third World for not following suit? At the same time, insisting with perfect inconsistency that they must make their women work outside the home, but must not permit their children to do so.
Those from the First World who go off to teach in the Third are almost always struck by the same thought: outside the West, there seems to be no such phenomenon as “adolescence.” People just seem to go one day from childhood to adulthood.
Those who well remember adolescence will recognize this as a good thing.
Let’s send the little beggars down the mines where they belong.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
George Romney
A search of Google's news archive finds no mentions at the time that he announced his candidacy of George Romney's Mormonism. QED.
Of course, to be fair, we should ask: is it the US public that has grown less tolerant, or the US media?
Of course, to be fair, we should ask: is it the US public that has grown less tolerant, or the US media?
Mitt Romney
Mitt Romney has launched his exploratory committee. And every story covering this seems to bring up his Mormonism, with the suggestion that Americans may not be ready to elect a Mormon president.
This strikes me as odd. After all, his father also ran for president, back in 1968, and I don't recall his Mormonism being made much of at the time. Has the US grown less religiously tolerant?
I suspect so.
Did anyone make a fuss, at the time, about Dwight Eisenhower being a Jehovah's Witness?
And note that there has never been another Catholic president, after JFK, despite Catholicism being the largest demonination in the US.
This strikes me as odd. After all, his father also ran for president, back in 1968, and I don't recall his Mormonism being made much of at the time. Has the US grown less religiously tolerant?
I suspect so.
Did anyone make a fuss, at the time, about Dwight Eisenhower being a Jehovah's Witness?
And note that there has never been another Catholic president, after JFK, despite Catholicism being the largest demonination in the US.
Friday, December 29, 2006
McCain in the Early Going
I think I've said it before in this space, but in case I haven't: my prediction for the next US presidential race is John Edwards versus John McCain.
The first principle to remember here is that Democrats almost never nominate the early frontrunner. Republicans almost always do.
Obama looks to me like a flash in the pan. He doesn't have the resume, and his inexperience is likely sooner or later to show. Hillary Clinton has no growth potential and too many negatives; and her support for the Iraq War will kill her with Democrats. I suspect John Edwards starts out with few enemies in the party, thanks to his upbeat run last time. Everybody's second choice: that's a good place to be. He should do well in Iowa, and he stands a good chance to clean up in the Southern primaries. Obama and Clinton may wipe each other out in the big "liberal" states.
Among Republicans, Guiliani is probably too liberal to win the nomination. He may also be rusty.
And I expect McCain to ultimately win the contest with Edwards. If Iraq goes well, as a Repuublican, he is more likely to get the credit. If, on the other hand, it goes badly from here, he is lucky enough not to be closely identified with the current administration. And he might appeal, with his military background, as a steady hand on the tiller in such a situation. Just as Eisenhower once did, or Nixon, in their day.
The first principle to remember here is that Democrats almost never nominate the early frontrunner. Republicans almost always do.
Obama looks to me like a flash in the pan. He doesn't have the resume, and his inexperience is likely sooner or later to show. Hillary Clinton has no growth potential and too many negatives; and her support for the Iraq War will kill her with Democrats. I suspect John Edwards starts out with few enemies in the party, thanks to his upbeat run last time. Everybody's second choice: that's a good place to be. He should do well in Iowa, and he stands a good chance to clean up in the Southern primaries. Obama and Clinton may wipe each other out in the big "liberal" states.
Among Republicans, Guiliani is probably too liberal to win the nomination. He may also be rusty.
And I expect McCain to ultimately win the contest with Edwards. If Iraq goes well, as a Repuublican, he is more likely to get the credit. If, on the other hand, it goes badly from here, he is lucky enough not to be closely identified with the current administration. And he might appeal, with his military background, as a steady hand on the tiller in such a situation. Just as Eisenhower once did, or Nixon, in their day.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Merry Christmas Eve
To mark this Christmas, ICM has produced a poll showing 82% of Britons believe religion "is a source of division and tension between people."
In a sense it is--and this is why it is currently unpopular. It nags at us. It reminds us we are not doing as we should.
"I come not with peace, but a sword."
Not resting from mortal strife, in an Internet Cafe in Butuan, Agusan del Norte, the Philippines.
In a sense it is--and this is why it is currently unpopular. It nags at us. It reminds us we are not doing as we should.
"I come not with peace, but a sword."
Not resting from mortal strife, in an Internet Cafe in Butuan, Agusan del Norte, the Philippines.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Achoo!
In the Philippines, struggling with a bad cold, and poor internet facilities. This site might be quiet for a while. Check back, but go have a life.
Friday, December 08, 2006
The Viet Nam War
Visiting the War Remnants Museum in Saigon, I can only feel that the Vietnam War was a terrible, terrible mistake. With great bloodshed, it accomplished nothing.
But whose mistake? America's, or Vietnam's? After all, if the Viet Minh and Viet Cong had just laid down their arms, wouldn't the country be in about the same position today--but more prosperous?
It seems to me the crucial factor that tripped the Americans up--that they did not understand, that led them to make wrong decisions--was the Asian issue of face. Even if the Vietnamese believed in the American system, face was against the Americans. And a Vietnamese will die rather than lose face.
The problem was originally with the French. Vietnam might be content to accept French tutelage so long as France had prestige internationally--so long as it had face. But when France was beaten by Germany and Japan, and had to have Vietnam handed back to it by Britain and China, it lost all face in Vietnamese eyes. For Vietnam, a return to French control would then be a terrible loss of face for Vietnam, especially in comparison to the Japanese and Chinese. Intolerable.
The US then had the misfortune and lack of savvy to back the regime France left behind. It was never going to go right with the Vietnamese. Korea was a very different story: there the Americans were clearly the victors over Japan, and so there was some prestige for Korea in accepting American patronage.
Had America understood face, they would probably have, wisely, stood back and let the French fail on their own, and bit their tongue and accepted the new Vietnamese Communist government. They could have won it over--Vietnam and China do not make natural allies.
But that was a mistake Eisenhower made. Not Johnson, not Kennedy, and not Nixon. I suspect when the chips all fall, history will see Eisenhower as a great bungler of American foreign policy.
But whose mistake? America's, or Vietnam's? After all, if the Viet Minh and Viet Cong had just laid down their arms, wouldn't the country be in about the same position today--but more prosperous?
It seems to me the crucial factor that tripped the Americans up--that they did not understand, that led them to make wrong decisions--was the Asian issue of face. Even if the Vietnamese believed in the American system, face was against the Americans. And a Vietnamese will die rather than lose face.
The problem was originally with the French. Vietnam might be content to accept French tutelage so long as France had prestige internationally--so long as it had face. But when France was beaten by Germany and Japan, and had to have Vietnam handed back to it by Britain and China, it lost all face in Vietnamese eyes. For Vietnam, a return to French control would then be a terrible loss of face for Vietnam, especially in comparison to the Japanese and Chinese. Intolerable.
The US then had the misfortune and lack of savvy to back the regime France left behind. It was never going to go right with the Vietnamese. Korea was a very different story: there the Americans were clearly the victors over Japan, and so there was some prestige for Korea in accepting American patronage.
Had America understood face, they would probably have, wisely, stood back and let the French fail on their own, and bit their tongue and accepted the new Vietnamese Communist government. They could have won it over--Vietnam and China do not make natural allies.
But that was a mistake Eisenhower made. Not Johnson, not Kennedy, and not Nixon. I suspect when the chips all fall, history will see Eisenhower as a great bungler of American foreign policy.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Reunification Palace
Good evening from Vietnam.
Today I went to see the "Reunification Palace," which had been the "white house" of the presidents of South Vietnam until 1975.
I was expecting to see a display of decadence. I had been told to expect this by an Australian academic I met in Bangkok some years ago, who had just come from a tour of Vietnam. He and his family said they had been shocked by the tasteless extravagance they had seen there.
In the event, it did not really strike me as over the top at all--not for a nation's seat of government. Sure, the official halls were lush, but that's an issue of national prestige. And no lusher than, say, the halls of University of Toronto. When it came to the actual quarters of the first family, they were just three rooms--a master bedroom, one shared bedroom for the children, and a dining room. This is decadent luxury? I live in larger and more luxurious quarters; and so, I warrant, do most Australians. Certainly any Australian academics past graduate school. The president's office--the local equivalent of the "Oval Office"--was smaller than that of your typical corporate president, in my experience, or, say, that of the president of a university.
There were also, it is true, in the more public areas, a bar, a small movie theatre, and a small dance floor.
Was this over the top? I don't think so. No more than you'd see it a typical private club; which is exactly what it was, for the country's high officials. Indeed, it was no better rigged out than the average faculty club.
In other words, this Auistralian academic seems to have been criticising as wildly extravagant a lifestyle quite comparable to his own.
Leaves me wondering. Does modern higher education serve to make you blind to the real world around you? Is it actually a matter of indoctrination, something like a cult?
Or was his objection, possibly, to someone of a lower class acting uppity?
I suspect all of the above.
Today I went to see the "Reunification Palace," which had been the "white house" of the presidents of South Vietnam until 1975.
I was expecting to see a display of decadence. I had been told to expect this by an Australian academic I met in Bangkok some years ago, who had just come from a tour of Vietnam. He and his family said they had been shocked by the tasteless extravagance they had seen there.
In the event, it did not really strike me as over the top at all--not for a nation's seat of government. Sure, the official halls were lush, but that's an issue of national prestige. And no lusher than, say, the halls of University of Toronto. When it came to the actual quarters of the first family, they were just three rooms--a master bedroom, one shared bedroom for the children, and a dining room. This is decadent luxury? I live in larger and more luxurious quarters; and so, I warrant, do most Australians. Certainly any Australian academics past graduate school. The president's office--the local equivalent of the "Oval Office"--was smaller than that of your typical corporate president, in my experience, or, say, that of the president of a university.
There were also, it is true, in the more public areas, a bar, a small movie theatre, and a small dance floor.
Was this over the top? I don't think so. No more than you'd see it a typical private club; which is exactly what it was, for the country's high officials. Indeed, it was no better rigged out than the average faculty club.
In other words, this Auistralian academic seems to have been criticising as wildly extravagant a lifestyle quite comparable to his own.
Leaves me wondering. Does modern higher education serve to make you blind to the real world around you? Is it actually a matter of indoctrination, something like a cult?
Or was his objection, possibly, to someone of a lower class acting uppity?
I suspect all of the above.
Friday, December 01, 2006
All Bets are On
As noted previously, I'm going to be on the road, or rather, in the air, on the other side of world as the votes come in from the Canadian Liberal convention. I'm not the blog to watch for breaking news.
But this is interesting: Pinnacle Sports is taking bets online on the outcome.
This little variant of the free market, the betting pool, generally proves to be very accurate.
And the betting pool gives the best chance to Bob Rae. Stephane Dion is close behind; Ignatieff is fairly far back at third likeliest leader.
Too bad; I will be sorry not to see what Ignatieff might be like as Liberal leader.
But if I were voting, I would probably be voting, myself, for Dion.
But this is interesting: Pinnacle Sports is taking bets online on the outcome.
This little variant of the free market, the betting pool, generally proves to be very accurate.
And the betting pool gives the best chance to Bob Rae. Stephane Dion is close behind; Ignatieff is fairly far back at third likeliest leader.
Too bad; I will be sorry not to see what Ignatieff might be like as Liberal leader.
But if I were voting, I would probably be voting, myself, for Dion.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
The Maple Leaf Forever
I thought I’d test my patriotism with a little writing exercise. I’ve always loved the old tune “The Maple Leaf Forever,” and thought it was a darned shame you never heard it any more, because some of the words are no longer PC.
In the meantime, Keith Spicer a few years ago, as chair of a committee on national unity, lamented that there was not enough poetry in our sense of nationhood.
So why not write new words?
I was concerned not to knuckle under to the fashion for multiculturalism, and portray Canada as a hotel: I didn’t want one verse for Newfoundland, one for Sikhs, and so forth. That leaves Canada as nothing in itself: I think it is fatal to nationhood. Every verse had to be for every Canadian.
Here’s what I have come up with:
The Maple Leaf Forever
(new words to the old tune)
No sap may rise,
The leaves may fall,
The winds may whip like leather;
Yet still on winter nights recall
The maple leaf forever.
The shining sea
Dims off BC:
We watch the darkness gather.
Yet soon the dawn’s off old St. John’s:
The maple leaf forever.
Brave Fox might fall
On roads unrun--
We’ll win this race together.
Ten million feet all rise as one--
The maple leaf forever.
From Vimy Ridge
To Stanley strand,
Red blooms anoint strange heather.
Beneath stone crosses lies each man
With maple leaves forever.
All blazes gone,
We portage on,
From known to unknown river.
What can’t we do if North is true?
The maple leaf forever.
In the meantime, Keith Spicer a few years ago, as chair of a committee on national unity, lamented that there was not enough poetry in our sense of nationhood.
So why not write new words?
I was concerned not to knuckle under to the fashion for multiculturalism, and portray Canada as a hotel: I didn’t want one verse for Newfoundland, one for Sikhs, and so forth. That leaves Canada as nothing in itself: I think it is fatal to nationhood. Every verse had to be for every Canadian.
Here’s what I have come up with:
The Maple Leaf Forever
(new words to the old tune)
No sap may rise,
The leaves may fall,
The winds may whip like leather;
Yet still on winter nights recall
The maple leaf forever.
The shining sea
Dims off BC:
We watch the darkness gather.
Yet soon the dawn’s off old St. John’s:
The maple leaf forever.
Brave Fox might fall
On roads unrun--
We’ll win this race together.
Ten million feet all rise as one--
The maple leaf forever.
From Vimy Ridge
To Stanley strand,
Red blooms anoint strange heather.
Beneath stone crosses lies each man
With maple leaves forever.
All blazes gone,
We portage on,
From known to unknown river.
What can’t we do if North is true?
The maple leaf forever.
Rich Jews
This is a Nazi propaganda picture from the thirties. Note that the rap against the Jews was essentially the same rap used against WASP males today: they are portrayed as wealthy and advantaged. The illustration on the left shows the "typical" Jewish family: a bunch of rich capitalist pigs. On the right is the "typical" Aryan German family: poor and proletarian.
Those who do not know history are condemned to repeat it.
Random Notes on the Liberal Contest
Andrew Coyne points out that, in a Leger poll done this week, 77% of Canadians rejected the contention that Quebec is a nation.
Contrasting that with the near-unanimous vote in the Commons shows, once again, that Canada has a ruling class with its own agenda that is heedless of the opinion of the mass of Canadians. “Like being in the court of Bourbon kings,” Coyne suggests. As with Meech Lake, something’s gotta give.
My suspicion is that, this time, it’s going to split the Liberals. The contrast, after all, is most dramatic there: 72% of Liberals nationwide reject Quebec as a nation. A lot of Liberals are Liberals because of Pierre Trudeau, and his doctrine of federalism. Imagine, now, Michael Ignatieff getting the leadership, with his strong support of the idea. Or, for that matter, Bob Rae, almost as supportive, and identified more or less with the Chretien wing of the party. With the factionalism already evident, after years of feuds between Chretienites and Martinites, the temptation may be very strong for some to either sit on their hands next election, or walk away, or start their own party.
An interesting possibility: what if Ignatieff’s vote actually goes down on the second ballot? It could happen. Delegates are pledged for one ballot only. Ignatieff’s campaign has had troubles since delegate selection. The “nation” issue is an emotional one, the sort of issue that, for some, trumps all others. What if his vote actually goes down?
A rumour has it that the rival Rae and Ignatieff camps are so afraid of Dion that they will tell some of their supporters to vote for Kennedy on the first two ballots, to make sure that he is ahead of Dion on the crucial third. Interesting, but risky, strategy. With the “nation” issue, Kennedy may see a late rally to his side anyway. So what happens if he does much better on the first and second ballots than anticipated, while Ignatieff’s vote actually goes down?
Ignatieff speaks last at the convention. In this fluid situation, the speeches could be crucial, and speaking last is a big advantage. If Ignatieff can pull off a good performance, it could make a big difference.
Contrasting that with the near-unanimous vote in the Commons shows, once again, that Canada has a ruling class with its own agenda that is heedless of the opinion of the mass of Canadians. “Like being in the court of Bourbon kings,” Coyne suggests. As with Meech Lake, something’s gotta give.
My suspicion is that, this time, it’s going to split the Liberals. The contrast, after all, is most dramatic there: 72% of Liberals nationwide reject Quebec as a nation. A lot of Liberals are Liberals because of Pierre Trudeau, and his doctrine of federalism. Imagine, now, Michael Ignatieff getting the leadership, with his strong support of the idea. Or, for that matter, Bob Rae, almost as supportive, and identified more or less with the Chretien wing of the party. With the factionalism already evident, after years of feuds between Chretienites and Martinites, the temptation may be very strong for some to either sit on their hands next election, or walk away, or start their own party.
An interesting possibility: what if Ignatieff’s vote actually goes down on the second ballot? It could happen. Delegates are pledged for one ballot only. Ignatieff’s campaign has had troubles since delegate selection. The “nation” issue is an emotional one, the sort of issue that, for some, trumps all others. What if his vote actually goes down?
A rumour has it that the rival Rae and Ignatieff camps are so afraid of Dion that they will tell some of their supporters to vote for Kennedy on the first two ballots, to make sure that he is ahead of Dion on the crucial third. Interesting, but risky, strategy. With the “nation” issue, Kennedy may see a late rally to his side anyway. So what happens if he does much better on the first and second ballots than anticipated, while Ignatieff’s vote actually goes down?
Ignatieff speaks last at the convention. In this fluid situation, the speeches could be crucial, and speaking last is a big advantage. If Ignatieff can pull off a good performance, it could make a big difference.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
How Many Canadas?
Oxford:
nation - noun; a large body of people united by common descent, culture, or language, inhabiting a particular state or territory.
Merriam-Webster:
nation: 1 a (1) : NATIONALITY
nationality: 5 a : a people having a common origin, tradition, and language and capable of forming or actually constituting a nation-state b : an ethnic group constituting one element of a larger unit (as a nation )
It’s hard to see what the controversy is: by my reading, Francophone Quebeckers are indeed a nation by the most common definition. They share a common descent, a common language, and a common culture, and they inhabit a particular territory. They are theoretically capable of forming a state; the whole referendum issue assumes that. Yet there is no reason to believe this involves recognition of some particular political status: the nation-state is only one possible form of state.
So I did not see in advance the firestorm Ignatieff would unleash with his support for the concept of Quebeckers as a nation. Probably for the same reason: I’ve been out of the country for a while.
In any case, it’s now with us. And the very suddenness of the vote in parliament, plus the near-unanimity among the political class, was sinister. It reminds us again that Canada is a very class-ridden society, that the country’s elite assumes it always knows best, and does not trust or feel a need to respect popular opinion.
It was fast footwork on the constitution very much like this that led, I think, to the split of the PCs and the rise of the Reform movement. I would have hoped we had learned better. I would have hoped Stephen Harper were smarter than that.
Perhaps this time, though, from the looks of it, it will be the Liberal Party that splits.
nation - noun; a large body of people united by common descent, culture, or language, inhabiting a particular state or territory.
Merriam-Webster:
nation: 1 a (1) : NATIONALITY
nationality: 5 a : a people having a common origin, tradition, and language and capable of forming or actually constituting a nation-state b : an ethnic group constituting one element of a larger unit (as a nation )
It’s hard to see what the controversy is: by my reading, Francophone Quebeckers are indeed a nation by the most common definition. They share a common descent, a common language, and a common culture, and they inhabit a particular territory. They are theoretically capable of forming a state; the whole referendum issue assumes that. Yet there is no reason to believe this involves recognition of some particular political status: the nation-state is only one possible form of state.
So I did not see in advance the firestorm Ignatieff would unleash with his support for the concept of Quebeckers as a nation. Probably for the same reason: I’ve been out of the country for a while.
In any case, it’s now with us. And the very suddenness of the vote in parliament, plus the near-unanimity among the political class, was sinister. It reminds us again that Canada is a very class-ridden society, that the country’s elite assumes it always knows best, and does not trust or feel a need to respect popular opinion.
It was fast footwork on the constitution very much like this that led, I think, to the split of the PCs and the rise of the Reform movement. I would have hoped we had learned better. I would have hoped Stephen Harper were smarter than that.
Perhaps this time, though, from the looks of it, it will be the Liberal Party that splits.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
The Future of Academics
This is the future of academics: TED Talks.
Now, we have a live professor, plus a textbook. Soon, we will also have canned lectures from the leading expert, or most inspiring teacher, in each topic. Not to mention great multimedia demonstrations, as in this clip of Hans Rosling. I think the classroom will survive, because we enjoy doing things in groups; but it will be open to the world.
And graduate school will be a worldwide email discussion group.
Now, we have a live professor, plus a textbook. Soon, we will also have canned lectures from the leading expert, or most inspiring teacher, in each topic. Not to mention great multimedia demonstrations, as in this clip of Hans Rosling. I think the classroom will survive, because we enjoy doing things in groups; but it will be open to the world.
And graduate school will be a worldwide email discussion group.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Free for All
With only days to go, it seems to me that the Liberal leadership race is now completely up in the air. Ignatieff’s campaign seemed to be in a dead stall, due to his gaffes, and in particular his support of the Quebec “nation” resolution. But is it now—now that everybody in the House of Commons has agreed with him?
Dion’s opportunity depended on his alliance with Kennedy, and with surpassing Kennedy by the third ballot. But now Kennedy, by coming out against the “nation” concept, may attract a lot of last-minute votes, as the only candidate keeping the Trudeauvian faith.
Leaving Bob Rae, Stephane Dion, Gerard Kennedy, and Michael Ignatieff with, to my eye, just about equal chances at this moment.
Nothing better for a politics junkie than such a good old fashioned open convention. Sadly, I'll be in the air somewhere between the Persian Gulf and the Far East as the first ballot votes come in.
I wish Canada luck.
Dion’s opportunity depended on his alliance with Kennedy, and with surpassing Kennedy by the third ballot. But now Kennedy, by coming out against the “nation” concept, may attract a lot of last-minute votes, as the only candidate keeping the Trudeauvian faith.
Leaving Bob Rae, Stephane Dion, Gerard Kennedy, and Michael Ignatieff with, to my eye, just about equal chances at this moment.
Nothing better for a politics junkie than such a good old fashioned open convention. Sadly, I'll be in the air somewhere between the Persian Gulf and the Far East as the first ballot votes come in.
I wish Canada luck.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Home Thoughts from a Far Piece Down the Line
I’m a bit of a phoney when it comes to my love for my home town, Gananoque, Ontario. After all, I only spent half my childhood there, from age 0 to 8 and again from 16 to 18. The rest of the time I was in Montreal. Nor have I been back much; my family moved away.
But I love that town, and the whole region of western Leed’s County. It is, physically, one of the most beautiful places on earth. And the people are even better: primarily Irish by ethnicity, really a southern tongue of the larger grouping called “the Valley.” They are warm, funny, down-to-earth, independent-minded, and honest.
They are my people.
I recently found this list of Valleyisms on Wikipedia. They caused me a warm wave of nostalgia. Although I don’t think I ever actually spoke the Ottawa Valley accent as my native tongue, for some reason, I switch into it without thinking whenever I am talking to anyone else whose own accent varies widely from standard American English. I guess it’s my second accent. When I do it with anyone from the British Isles, they are convinced I’m from Ireland.
From Wikipedia:
• Sledin' - to go snowmobiling
• g'day - good day, hello
• Get'er - To go after it
• Got'er - You know you are going to come out on top
• Boot Scoot - To go somewhere
• Let her Whistle - to go fast
• Let her dance- To go fast
• cairp - carp, either the fish or the town of Carp
(Od: this one rings false. Of course it’s cairp. That’s just the correct vowel sound. Same as cair for car or ciaw for cow.)
• lad - person, neighbour
(Od: I dissent; you cannot call a female a “lad.” For women or for mixed groups, you must say “guys.” There is no singular form. If speaking of only one woman, you must simply use her nickname—“fat Cathy,” “fast Susan,” “dark-eyed Molly,” or “Black Jade.”)
• pie-eyed - drunk
• are ya dry? - are you drunk?
• pinned - to be drunk
• tuned - to be drunk
• pin 'er! - go faster!
• Givn'er! - Faster
• Smoked - To be hit hard
• Slammed - Drunk
• Pritnear - Nearly
• Shinin'er - Masturbating
• Hick - "Red-neck" Canadians, The people or farmers who inhabit the Ottawa valley or live in the region of Killaloe
• Hammed - Drunk
• Pulling your Goalie - Masturbating
• Hamboned - Drunk
• Loaded - Drunk
• Plastered - Drunk
• It's a far piece - it's far from here
• Hoofn'r - To walk somewhere
• Pitch Dark - It's very dark
• Pitch Black - It's very dark
• Unthaw - intended to mean to thaw something out
• Work'n it - To show off
• Kittle - regional accent to describe a kettle
• Feeling the flow
• Yous guys- Applying to more than one person
• the Ottawa Valley "2 Step" - to stagger wildly while intoxicated
• give'r - try it, or, give it your best
• Git 'r dun! - Get it done, or, carry on
• Boot'r - To run or escape from a compromising situation
• muddin - To drive a truck (usually 4x4) through an extremely muddy area for excitment
• 4by - Any truck with four wheel drive
(Od: I remember this one as “fer be fer.” That “e” in “be” is what is called by linguists a schwa.)
• up the line a tad - To be north or nothwest of the current location
(Od: you can also be down the line—generally, in Gananoque, in the direction of flow of the nearest river. Same as upriver or downriver.)
• gettin' a lil funny there? - getting high, smoking a joint
(Od: this one’s new to me.)
• geno- to score a goal
• hack a dart - smoke a cigarette
Certain words are often pronounced differently, for instance:
• coo'cumb'r - cucumber
(Od: I’ve never heard this.)
• patadas - potatoes
• melk - milk
The Ottawa Valley is affectionately known by both young and old as 'The Valley." Another term used mainly in the Ottawa Valley is Der or Derr- for the use of the word there as in Get over derr
End of quote from Wikipedia.
More Ottawa Valleyisms I think they’ve missed:
- “didn’t hardly” means “yes, a lot.”
- “tamarrah” for “tomorrow”
- “Sa’erdei” for “Saturday.”
- “weasel” is someone who does something cunning and sneaky; but said in ironic praise.
- “chips” for “french fries.”
- “chips ‘n gravy” – even better.
- “run like the wind” – run fast.
- “the back forty” – any relatively inaccessible field.
I'm hoping other Valleyites may be able to add more examples.
But I love that town, and the whole region of western Leed’s County. It is, physically, one of the most beautiful places on earth. And the people are even better: primarily Irish by ethnicity, really a southern tongue of the larger grouping called “the Valley.” They are warm, funny, down-to-earth, independent-minded, and honest.
They are my people.
I recently found this list of Valleyisms on Wikipedia. They caused me a warm wave of nostalgia. Although I don’t think I ever actually spoke the Ottawa Valley accent as my native tongue, for some reason, I switch into it without thinking whenever I am talking to anyone else whose own accent varies widely from standard American English. I guess it’s my second accent. When I do it with anyone from the British Isles, they are convinced I’m from Ireland.
From Wikipedia:
• Sledin' - to go snowmobiling
• g'day - good day, hello
• Get'er - To go after it
• Got'er - You know you are going to come out on top
• Boot Scoot - To go somewhere
• Let her Whistle - to go fast
• Let her dance- To go fast
• cairp - carp, either the fish or the town of Carp
(Od: this one rings false. Of course it’s cairp. That’s just the correct vowel sound. Same as cair for car or ciaw for cow.)
• lad - person, neighbour
(Od: I dissent; you cannot call a female a “lad.” For women or for mixed groups, you must say “guys.” There is no singular form. If speaking of only one woman, you must simply use her nickname—“fat Cathy,” “fast Susan,” “dark-eyed Molly,” or “Black Jade.”)
• pie-eyed - drunk
• are ya dry? - are you drunk?
• pinned - to be drunk
• tuned - to be drunk
• pin 'er! - go faster!
• Givn'er! - Faster
• Smoked - To be hit hard
• Slammed - Drunk
• Pritnear - Nearly
• Shinin'er - Masturbating
• Hick - "Red-neck" Canadians, The people or farmers who inhabit the Ottawa valley or live in the region of Killaloe
• Hammed - Drunk
• Pulling your Goalie - Masturbating
• Hamboned - Drunk
• Loaded - Drunk
• Plastered - Drunk
• It's a far piece - it's far from here
• Hoofn'r - To walk somewhere
• Pitch Dark - It's very dark
• Pitch Black - It's very dark
• Unthaw - intended to mean to thaw something out
• Work'n it - To show off
• Kittle - regional accent to describe a kettle
• Feeling the flow
• Yous guys- Applying to more than one person
• the Ottawa Valley "2 Step" - to stagger wildly while intoxicated
• give'r - try it, or, give it your best
• Git 'r dun! - Get it done, or, carry on
• Boot'r - To run or escape from a compromising situation
• muddin - To drive a truck (usually 4x4) through an extremely muddy area for excitment
• 4by - Any truck with four wheel drive
(Od: I remember this one as “fer be fer.” That “e” in “be” is what is called by linguists a schwa.)
• up the line a tad - To be north or nothwest of the current location
(Od: you can also be down the line—generally, in Gananoque, in the direction of flow of the nearest river. Same as upriver or downriver.)
• gettin' a lil funny there? - getting high, smoking a joint
(Od: this one’s new to me.)
• geno- to score a goal
• hack a dart - smoke a cigarette
Certain words are often pronounced differently, for instance:
• coo'cumb'r - cucumber
(Od: I’ve never heard this.)
• patadas - potatoes
• melk - milk
The Ottawa Valley is affectionately known by both young and old as 'The Valley." Another term used mainly in the Ottawa Valley is Der or Derr- for the use of the word there as in Get over derr
End of quote from Wikipedia.
More Ottawa Valleyisms I think they’ve missed:
- “didn’t hardly” means “yes, a lot.”
- “tamarrah” for “tomorrow”
- “Sa’erdei” for “Saturday.”
- “weasel” is someone who does something cunning and sneaky; but said in ironic praise.
- “chips” for “french fries.”
- “chips ‘n gravy” – even better.
- “run like the wind” – run fast.
- “the back forty” – any relatively inaccessible field.
I'm hoping other Valleyites may be able to add more examples.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
The Art of the Deal
One of the most pernicious effects of the Marxist fantasy is that it prevents us from properly valuing entrepreneurship as a creative, indeed an artistic, activity. A great entrepreneur can be a great artist, and can have profound influence for good.
Walt Disney is the obvious example. Steve Jobs, of Apple and Pixar, is another. Thomas Edison, P.T. Barnum, Conrad Black, Rupert Murdoch, Ted Turner—all these men are artists. They ought to be understood as such, and, for the sake of future generations, ought to be held up to the young as models. They should be considered culture heroes.
Worse, the Marxist blindness makes us largely incapable of distinguishing such creative entrepreneurship from the real robber barons, the Carnegies and the Gateses. I hear the same rumblings against Google now that we used to hear about Microsoft. But Google has genuinely improved the world, while Microsoft has really only benefited Bill Gates. We ought to be wise enough to tell the difference.
Besides changing the world, and being a thing of beauty to watch, creative entrepreneurship can benefit everybody. This seems to be difficult to grasp, but I don’t know why it should be. People assume that, if Wal-Mart is wildly successful, they must be underpaying their employees—if they are getting richer, someone else must be getting poorer. If McDonalds is able to sell a burger for less than anyone else, they must be using worm meat. Either the employees must be being cheated, or the customers, for a business to succeed.
But this is a fallacy. Worse; it is the opposite of the truth. Business is not robbery. A good business deal can easily benefit all involved—it almost has to, in order to work.
Walt Disney is the obvious example. Steve Jobs, of Apple and Pixar, is another. Thomas Edison, P.T. Barnum, Conrad Black, Rupert Murdoch, Ted Turner—all these men are artists. They ought to be understood as such, and, for the sake of future generations, ought to be held up to the young as models. They should be considered culture heroes.
Worse, the Marxist blindness makes us largely incapable of distinguishing such creative entrepreneurship from the real robber barons, the Carnegies and the Gateses. I hear the same rumblings against Google now that we used to hear about Microsoft. But Google has genuinely improved the world, while Microsoft has really only benefited Bill Gates. We ought to be wise enough to tell the difference.
Besides changing the world, and being a thing of beauty to watch, creative entrepreneurship can benefit everybody. This seems to be difficult to grasp, but I don’t know why it should be. People assume that, if Wal-Mart is wildly successful, they must be underpaying their employees—if they are getting richer, someone else must be getting poorer. If McDonalds is able to sell a burger for less than anyone else, they must be using worm meat. Either the employees must be being cheated, or the customers, for a business to succeed.
But this is a fallacy. Worse; it is the opposite of the truth. Business is not robbery. A good business deal can easily benefit all involved—it almost has to, in order to work.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Big Business is a Bunch of Commies
This piece from the Competitive Enterprise Institute notes that big business gives overwhelmingly to left-wing advocacy groups—fourteen times more.
But they seem unable to account for this. Why would business fund a stance that is publicly anti-business?
Part of the answer is here:
“Some-usually larger businesses-might actually benefit as their competitors suffer more from regulations.”
Exactly. Big business benefits from regulations. They raise start-up costs and difficulties for potential competitors. In effect, they enforce a cartel of those already in the market. So big business has every reason to support left-wing causes; and does. Small business and entrepreneurs, conversely, will oppose them—and do.
But this is not the only reason. As the article notes, “that does not explain why a group representing Europe's entire chemical industry supports a regulation when it may put many of its members out of business”—i.e., the smaller fry.
And this, the article cannot explain.
But this is simple to understand once one is aware of the existence of a self-interested professional class. It stands to reason that, the more complicated business becomes, the greater a market there is for the skills of this class, regardless of the particular corporations involved.
And it is, of course, this professional class that makes the decisions in almost all businesses. They have a vested interest, as a class, in greater regulation.
And the “capitalists,” far from being the ruling class, are powerless. Their own money is being spent against their interests.
But they seem unable to account for this. Why would business fund a stance that is publicly anti-business?
Part of the answer is here:
“Some-usually larger businesses-might actually benefit as their competitors suffer more from regulations.”
Exactly. Big business benefits from regulations. They raise start-up costs and difficulties for potential competitors. In effect, they enforce a cartel of those already in the market. So big business has every reason to support left-wing causes; and does. Small business and entrepreneurs, conversely, will oppose them—and do.
But this is not the only reason. As the article notes, “that does not explain why a group representing Europe's entire chemical industry supports a regulation when it may put many of its members out of business”—i.e., the smaller fry.
And this, the article cannot explain.
But this is simple to understand once one is aware of the existence of a self-interested professional class. It stands to reason that, the more complicated business becomes, the greater a market there is for the skills of this class, regardless of the particular corporations involved.
And it is, of course, this professional class that makes the decisions in almost all businesses. They have a vested interest, as a class, in greater regulation.
And the “capitalists,” far from being the ruling class, are powerless. Their own money is being spent against their interests.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Trees Grow on Money
A recent article published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (US)suggests that forest cover world wide, while still declining, will begin growing within the next few years. It is already growing in 22 of the 50 most forested nations, including Canada.
The principle is simple: as nations develop, and their people become richer, they stop cutting down as much timber. The turning point is a GDP of $4,600 per person per year.
This means, of course, that efforts to stop deforestation by limiting development are entirely counter-productive for trees--in addition to the human misery they cause.
BBC has the story.
The principle is simple: as nations develop, and their people become richer, they stop cutting down as much timber. The turning point is a GDP of $4,600 per person per year.
This means, of course, that efforts to stop deforestation by limiting development are entirely counter-productive for trees--in addition to the human misery they cause.
BBC has the story.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Jobs in Heaven
Dear Abbot:
Do our departed relatives help us from heaven?
Your Old Men Shall Dream Dreams
Dear YOM:
Could be.
We will have jobs to do in heaven. Partly, this can be deduced by the nature of heaven, partly from the nature of the created world. Surely heaven would not really be heaven if we were cut off from all that we loved in this world. Nor could most of us be happy with directionless idleness. A vision of eternal idleness is no vision of heaven.
And, if this world were merely something to be left and forgotten, why would God have created it? Does he create anything in vain? No, we know that this world as a whole is bound for redemption, at the end of time.
Therefore it follows that the souls in heaven do not leave it entirely, but are still intimately involved with it, working along with those of us still here to perfect it at the end of time.
So the saints act as intercessors, in a way familiar to any Catholic. And remember, anyone who has died and gone to heaven is a saint. Therefore, if your ancestors are in heaven, it follows that they can intercede for you. This includes the possible ability to perform miracles on your behalf.
Saints are understood to have special spheres of interest: they are patrons of this and that. An architect in life will be considered a special patron of other architects. A Frenchman will be considered a special intercessor for the French.
And so saints might well assume special concern and care for members of their own family. It would be the expected thing.
The only problem is that we cannot be certain that family members are in heaven; if they are still in purgatory, it is we who can help them, not the other way around. The only people we can be certain are in heaven are those officially declared so by the Church, because on this the Church is understood to be infallible.
Abbot
Do our departed relatives help us from heaven?
Your Old Men Shall Dream Dreams
Dear YOM:
Could be.
We will have jobs to do in heaven. Partly, this can be deduced by the nature of heaven, partly from the nature of the created world. Surely heaven would not really be heaven if we were cut off from all that we loved in this world. Nor could most of us be happy with directionless idleness. A vision of eternal idleness is no vision of heaven.
And, if this world were merely something to be left and forgotten, why would God have created it? Does he create anything in vain? No, we know that this world as a whole is bound for redemption, at the end of time.
Therefore it follows that the souls in heaven do not leave it entirely, but are still intimately involved with it, working along with those of us still here to perfect it at the end of time.
So the saints act as intercessors, in a way familiar to any Catholic. And remember, anyone who has died and gone to heaven is a saint. Therefore, if your ancestors are in heaven, it follows that they can intercede for you. This includes the possible ability to perform miracles on your behalf.
Saints are understood to have special spheres of interest: they are patrons of this and that. An architect in life will be considered a special patron of other architects. A Frenchman will be considered a special intercessor for the French.
And so saints might well assume special concern and care for members of their own family. It would be the expected thing.
The only problem is that we cannot be certain that family members are in heaven; if they are still in purgatory, it is we who can help them, not the other way around. The only people we can be certain are in heaven are those officially declared so by the Church, because on this the Church is understood to be infallible.
Abbot
Saturday, November 18, 2006
"Conservatives" Give More than "Liberals"
This is the conclusion of a study done by Arthur Brooks at Syracuse University, an alma mater.
"For too long, liberals have been claiming they are the most virtuous members of American society. Although they usually give less to charity, they have nevertheless lambasted conservatives for their callousness in the face of social injustice."
"For too long, liberals have been claiming they are the most virtuous members of American society. Although they usually give less to charity, they have nevertheless lambasted conservatives for their callousness in the face of social injustice."
China and the Coming Population Bust
Mario Dumont’s ADQ wants to give $5,000 to every Quebec woman who bears three children.
This is not a bad idea—depopulation is a pending crisis throughout the developed world, and something must be done.
But surely the money should go to the Dad? He’s the one who pays the bills, after all, in most families. And doing it this way might keep families together. Dad might hang around for the sake of the money, and so might Mom.
And should single women who bear three children without a father earn the money? After all, this could then encourage poor women to have children without Dads for the money—to the detriment of the children.
In somewhat related news: Ignatieff has criticized Stephen Harper for presuming to lecture China on Human rights, calling China a “superpower of the 21st century.” I think that, like most experts, he’s wrong here. China may be growing like blazes now, but there are obvious limits to its growth.
China has stopped making people. Thanks largely to vigorous government action, its birth rate ha dropped well below replacement level long before this tends to happen in developed countries.
This means China is likely to follow the same cycle as Japan: growing rapidly to a point, then going into dead stall as it runs out of productive workers. Worse, it will hit this point at a lower level of development than Japan. Worse still, unlike America and, to a lesser extent, Europe, Chinese culture is not built to manage immigration. It cannot make up this declining birthrate by letting in people from elsewhere. And worse still, China has some structural problems, such as lack of transparency and lack of rule of law, that still need to be fixed. The lack of these may mean that China’s development is largely done with mirrors, and might come crashing down. The need for these, and long delay in implementing them, may mean a big bump on the road ahead, with economic setbacks.
More broadly, the impending shortage of people should be factored more carefully into everyone’s calculations. UN figures currently suggest the population of the world will top out around 2050, and then begin to decline. As this happens, the shortage of workers will become a critical development factor.
For example, Spain’s record growth recently has a lot to do with the ready availability of immigrants from Latin America. Because the language is the same and the culture very similar, they can integrate quickly. The same large pool of immigrants also helps the US.
Make no mistake: people have always been our most precious resource.
This is not a bad idea—depopulation is a pending crisis throughout the developed world, and something must be done.
But surely the money should go to the Dad? He’s the one who pays the bills, after all, in most families. And doing it this way might keep families together. Dad might hang around for the sake of the money, and so might Mom.
And should single women who bear three children without a father earn the money? After all, this could then encourage poor women to have children without Dads for the money—to the detriment of the children.
In somewhat related news: Ignatieff has criticized Stephen Harper for presuming to lecture China on Human rights, calling China a “superpower of the 21st century.” I think that, like most experts, he’s wrong here. China may be growing like blazes now, but there are obvious limits to its growth.
China has stopped making people. Thanks largely to vigorous government action, its birth rate ha dropped well below replacement level long before this tends to happen in developed countries.
This means China is likely to follow the same cycle as Japan: growing rapidly to a point, then going into dead stall as it runs out of productive workers. Worse, it will hit this point at a lower level of development than Japan. Worse still, unlike America and, to a lesser extent, Europe, Chinese culture is not built to manage immigration. It cannot make up this declining birthrate by letting in people from elsewhere. And worse still, China has some structural problems, such as lack of transparency and lack of rule of law, that still need to be fixed. The lack of these may mean that China’s development is largely done with mirrors, and might come crashing down. The need for these, and long delay in implementing them, may mean a big bump on the road ahead, with economic setbacks.
More broadly, the impending shortage of people should be factored more carefully into everyone’s calculations. UN figures currently suggest the population of the world will top out around 2050, and then begin to decline. As this happens, the shortage of workers will become a critical development factor.
For example, Spain’s record growth recently has a lot to do with the ready availability of immigrants from Latin America. Because the language is the same and the culture very similar, they can integrate quickly. The same large pool of immigrants also helps the US.
Make no mistake: people have always been our most precious resource.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
The Holy Ghost
Who is this guy? Other than God? I mean, we acknowledge him as one of the three persons of the Trinity, which would seem to make him overwhelmingly important, and beyond that we seem to say next to nothing about him. It’s spooky.
I think this has to be because he is by his very nature the most mysterious member of the team.
He was present at the creation. Genesis 1:2: “Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.” As Jesus, the Logos, is the embodiment of the Law, the Holy Spirit has spoken through the Prophets; he is the spirit of prophecy. If we see the Father as the Creator, and Jesus as the Logos, the structure of creation, then the Holy Spirit is the Pneuma, the vital spark, the principle of movement and change.
All three seem logically necessary to creation. If one thinks only of the Father or Creator, then one faces a logical impossibility. If God created the universe, then he changed. Before he created the universe, he was not a creator. After he created the universe, he was a creator. If God can change, then surely he is not eternal. Nor can he, apparently, be perfect—before he created, was he not necessarily incomplete? After he created, was he not, necessarily, lesser, as he was no longer all?
To solve this paradox, it seems necessary to posit two “persons” of God, one eternal and the other changeable. If the former “eternally begets” the latter, i.e., is always in the act of creating him, then the former remains eternal. But the latter can then possess the capacity to change and become lesser. Creation is then mediated through him.
But then there is necessarily a third thing that is also eternal, and coexistent with the Father and the Son, is there not? There is the begetting, the act. This, by its nature, “proceeds from the Father and the Son.” From their very being, it must be.
So it seems logically necessary to posit the Holy Spirit, were he not given to us by the scriptures. There, as noted, he is first seen moving eternally over the waters: the spirit of change. Much later, he appears as a flame above the heads of the apostles at Pentecost; flame too speaks of change. It is the paradigm of transformation.
He is also present, of course, each time we make the sign of the cross; and this seems suggestive. On the word “father,” we point to our forehead—the Father corresponds in us to our intelligence or mind. “Son,” we touch our chest at about the midpoint—he is the incarnation, corresponding to our physical being. And for “Holy Spirit,” we point to either shoulder in turn: he is the active principle, the principle of doing; our temporal being. As the spirit of time or change, he is also naturally the spirit of prophecy and the spirit of the future. As the future is to us mysterious, so is he.
In terms of our lives as Christians, the role of the Holy Spirit is both mysterious and crucial. He is the being that actually transforms us. He brings the charismata, as in “charisma.” These are very cool. They are what the charismatic movement has been on about.
I think this has to be because he is by his very nature the most mysterious member of the team.
He was present at the creation. Genesis 1:2: “Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.” As Jesus, the Logos, is the embodiment of the Law, the Holy Spirit has spoken through the Prophets; he is the spirit of prophecy. If we see the Father as the Creator, and Jesus as the Logos, the structure of creation, then the Holy Spirit is the Pneuma, the vital spark, the principle of movement and change.
All three seem logically necessary to creation. If one thinks only of the Father or Creator, then one faces a logical impossibility. If God created the universe, then he changed. Before he created the universe, he was not a creator. After he created the universe, he was a creator. If God can change, then surely he is not eternal. Nor can he, apparently, be perfect—before he created, was he not necessarily incomplete? After he created, was he not, necessarily, lesser, as he was no longer all?
To solve this paradox, it seems necessary to posit two “persons” of God, one eternal and the other changeable. If the former “eternally begets” the latter, i.e., is always in the act of creating him, then the former remains eternal. But the latter can then possess the capacity to change and become lesser. Creation is then mediated through him.
But then there is necessarily a third thing that is also eternal, and coexistent with the Father and the Son, is there not? There is the begetting, the act. This, by its nature, “proceeds from the Father and the Son.” From their very being, it must be.
So it seems logically necessary to posit the Holy Spirit, were he not given to us by the scriptures. There, as noted, he is first seen moving eternally over the waters: the spirit of change. Much later, he appears as a flame above the heads of the apostles at Pentecost; flame too speaks of change. It is the paradigm of transformation.
He is also present, of course, each time we make the sign of the cross; and this seems suggestive. On the word “father,” we point to our forehead—the Father corresponds in us to our intelligence or mind. “Son,” we touch our chest at about the midpoint—he is the incarnation, corresponding to our physical being. And for “Holy Spirit,” we point to either shoulder in turn: he is the active principle, the principle of doing; our temporal being. As the spirit of time or change, he is also naturally the spirit of prophecy and the spirit of the future. As the future is to us mysterious, so is he.
In terms of our lives as Christians, the role of the Holy Spirit is both mysterious and crucial. He is the being that actually transforms us. He brings the charismata, as in “charisma.” These are very cool. They are what the charismatic movement has been on about.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Elite? Who, Us? Ain't Nobody Here but Us Proletarians
I read recently of a young Kuwaiti man who developed a great admiration for the US because of the first Gulf War. So he chose to go to college in the States.
Mistake. Inevitably, his American Government class was taught by a doctrinaire left-winger. This was the final exam:
"Dye and Zeigler contend that the Constitution of the United States was not `ordained and established' by `the people' as we have so often been led to believe. They contend instead that it was written by a small educated and wealthy elite in America who were representative of powerful economic and political interests. Analyze the US constitution (original document), and show how its formulation excluded the majority of the people living in America at that time, and how it was dominated by America's elite interest."
Bravely, the student wrote an essay that defended the US Constitution. This, of course, was not an option, or an opinion, his professor had allowed him. The prof refused to grade the essay. Instead he told the student to seek psychotherapy. Indeed, he threatened to go to the Dean of International Admissions and demand this. The student feared his student visa might be revoked.
He contacted the local media.
The professor then filed a complaint with the college’s human rights board, claiming the student had harassed him by talking to the press.
The most disturbing thing in the whole story, to my mind, is the gobsmacking hypocrisy of the professor—claiming the US constitution was elitist while he is a member of the same elite, and himself eager to use his power and privilege to bully any comer. A classic pharisee.
Who really was responsible for the US Constitution? A convention, but all elected by popular vote. That professor might object that suffrage in those days was less universal than it is now: with women and blacks not voting, these people technically represented a minority, only about forty percent of the adult population.
About the same proportion who voted in the recent US midterm elections.
Sketches of the actual delegates, recorded by one of them at the time, may be found here.
Abraham Baldwin: major qualification seems to be that he graduated from Harvard.
Bedford, lawyer.
Blair, judge.
Brearly, judge.
Clymer, lawyer.
Davie, lawyer.
Dayton, "a good education."
Dickinson, "a scholar."
Ellsworth, a judge.
Few, a lawyer.
Franklin, "the greatest philosopher of this present age."
Hamilton, "reputed to be a finished scholar."
Houston, a lawyer.
Ingersoll, "well educated in the Classics."
Johnson, "one of the first [in] Classics in America."
King, "good classical as well as legal knowledge."
Lansing, attorney
Livingston , "extensiveness of his education and genius."
Madison, "blends together the profound politician with the scholar."
Martin, lawyer.
McClurg, physician.
McHenry, physician.
Morris, lawyer, “acquainted to all the sciences."
Paterson, "a classic, a lawyer."
Pinckney, “intimately acquainted with all species of polite learning."
Cotesworth Pinckney, "very extensive degree of legal knowledge."
Randolph, “all the accomplishments of the Scholar”
Read, lawyer and judge.
Rutledge, “bred to the law.”
Sherman, judge.
Strong, a lawyer.
Williamson, “a gentleman of education.”
Wilson, “among the foremost in legal and political knowledge.”
Wythe, professor of law, College of William and Mary.
Yates, judge.
That’s 35 apparent members of the educated professional class; out of 53. There seems to be a larger representation of merchants that one would see in the present Congress; but this may simply be due to a relative lack of professionals. When a member is well educated, this is apparently cited as his main qualification to be there. And educated professionals do form the clear majority.
So the professor is a member of the elite class he describes as forming the US Constitution. And, were the Constitutional Convention held today, he might well be a member.
Let’s go a bit further, and acknowledge that the professional class has always been the elite; this has not changed throughout history. Marxism is no more than a smokescreen to conceal this fact. In the French Estates-General, which ruled France before the Revolution, who was the First Estate? No, it was not the big landowners. It was the King plus the clergy, which is to say, at the time, the educated class. The landowners were the Second Estate, the bourgeoisie lumped with the peasants in the Third.
Similarly, in India’s caste system, who was the highest caste? The Brahmins—the educated, priestly, class. Nobles were second, merchants third.
You can trace this all the way back to hunter-gather societies: authority is commonly split between a war chief and a shaman, the latter’s authority based on his knowledge of the tribal lore. Who outranks whom varies.
In the French Revolution, the old clerical profession was simply replaced by a new, secular profession—the lawyers. But the same class remained in charge. In the American Revolution, American lawyers replaced British lawyers. In the Russian Revolution, or the Chinese, the professional class got rid of the landowners and bourgeoisie altogether, not to mention the clergy, and got to rule with no checks, balances, or restraints. No wonder Marxism is most popular among the professional class. It is their ultimate model: absolute power, corrupting absolutely.
The professional, educated class is the elite by simple dictionary definition. Oxford, “1 a group of people regarded as the best in a particular society or organization.” Webster’s, “1. d : a group of persons who by virtue of position or education exercise much power or influence.” Note that the word actually comes from the Middle English for “a person elected to office” (Random House). Who gets elected to office? Overwhelmingly, in Canada or the US or anywhere in Europe, educated professionals.
This makes educated professionals the ruling class: Random House, “the class of people exerting power or authority.” They not only run government and the civil service; they run big business. The decisions in corporations are made by MBAs.
While the old landowning class’s titles have now been banned in many countries, and have no legal standing in most others, the professional class’s titles are preserved, and still enforced by the state. Titles like “Dr.,” “Professor,” P. Eng,” “C.A.” The old landowning class, and the bourgeoisie, may have to go through the same courts as the proletariat or the peasantry; but the professional class has its own courts, and special privileges in others. They are judged by their peers in their professional associations. In the regular courts, they can claim special rights to testify or not to testify. While merchants or capitalists are prohibited by law from meeting together and coordinating their business interests, professionals have the absolute right to do this--and even to have their decisions enforced in the courts. They can fix fees, defend monopolies, restrict competition, discipline dissent.
Let’s look at prestige. Harris has a poll claiming to determine what jobs Americans consider most prestigious. The Top Ten: scientist, doctor, firefighter, teacher, military officer, nurse, police officer, clergy, congressman, engineer. I count seven or eight professions, “congressman” being ambiguous. Two are working class occupations. “Merchant” or “entrepreneur” do not appear.
Again, in any list of the best-paying jobs, the top five are medical specialties.
Having a ruling class is not all that terrible; there are arguments for it. Plato had some in the Republic. But when a ruling class tries to pretend it is not the ruling class—that’s sinister. That speaks of fraud.
Mistake. Inevitably, his American Government class was taught by a doctrinaire left-winger. This was the final exam:
"Dye and Zeigler contend that the Constitution of the United States was not `ordained and established' by `the people' as we have so often been led to believe. They contend instead that it was written by a small educated and wealthy elite in America who were representative of powerful economic and political interests. Analyze the US constitution (original document), and show how its formulation excluded the majority of the people living in America at that time, and how it was dominated by America's elite interest."
Bravely, the student wrote an essay that defended the US Constitution. This, of course, was not an option, or an opinion, his professor had allowed him. The prof refused to grade the essay. Instead he told the student to seek psychotherapy. Indeed, he threatened to go to the Dean of International Admissions and demand this. The student feared his student visa might be revoked.
He contacted the local media.
The professor then filed a complaint with the college’s human rights board, claiming the student had harassed him by talking to the press.
The most disturbing thing in the whole story, to my mind, is the gobsmacking hypocrisy of the professor—claiming the US constitution was elitist while he is a member of the same elite, and himself eager to use his power and privilege to bully any comer. A classic pharisee.
Who really was responsible for the US Constitution? A convention, but all elected by popular vote. That professor might object that suffrage in those days was less universal than it is now: with women and blacks not voting, these people technically represented a minority, only about forty percent of the adult population.
About the same proportion who voted in the recent US midterm elections.
Sketches of the actual delegates, recorded by one of them at the time, may be found here.
Abraham Baldwin: major qualification seems to be that he graduated from Harvard.
Bedford, lawyer.
Blair, judge.
Brearly, judge.
Clymer, lawyer.
Davie, lawyer.
Dayton, "a good education."
Dickinson, "a scholar."
Ellsworth, a judge.
Few, a lawyer.
Franklin, "the greatest philosopher of this present age."
Hamilton, "reputed to be a finished scholar."
Houston, a lawyer.
Ingersoll, "well educated in the Classics."
Johnson, "one of the first [in] Classics in America."
King, "good classical as well as legal knowledge."
Lansing, attorney
Livingston , "extensiveness of his education and genius."
Madison, "blends together the profound politician with the scholar."
Martin, lawyer.
McClurg, physician.
McHenry, physician.
Morris, lawyer, “acquainted to all the sciences."
Paterson, "a classic, a lawyer."
Pinckney, “intimately acquainted with all species of polite learning."
Cotesworth Pinckney, "very extensive degree of legal knowledge."
Randolph, “all the accomplishments of the Scholar”
Read, lawyer and judge.
Rutledge, “bred to the law.”
Sherman, judge.
Strong, a lawyer.
Williamson, “a gentleman of education.”
Wilson, “among the foremost in legal and political knowledge.”
Wythe, professor of law, College of William and Mary.
Yates, judge.
That’s 35 apparent members of the educated professional class; out of 53. There seems to be a larger representation of merchants that one would see in the present Congress; but this may simply be due to a relative lack of professionals. When a member is well educated, this is apparently cited as his main qualification to be there. And educated professionals do form the clear majority.
So the professor is a member of the elite class he describes as forming the US Constitution. And, were the Constitutional Convention held today, he might well be a member.
Let’s go a bit further, and acknowledge that the professional class has always been the elite; this has not changed throughout history. Marxism is no more than a smokescreen to conceal this fact. In the French Estates-General, which ruled France before the Revolution, who was the First Estate? No, it was not the big landowners. It was the King plus the clergy, which is to say, at the time, the educated class. The landowners were the Second Estate, the bourgeoisie lumped with the peasants in the Third.
Similarly, in India’s caste system, who was the highest caste? The Brahmins—the educated, priestly, class. Nobles were second, merchants third.
You can trace this all the way back to hunter-gather societies: authority is commonly split between a war chief and a shaman, the latter’s authority based on his knowledge of the tribal lore. Who outranks whom varies.
In the French Revolution, the old clerical profession was simply replaced by a new, secular profession—the lawyers. But the same class remained in charge. In the American Revolution, American lawyers replaced British lawyers. In the Russian Revolution, or the Chinese, the professional class got rid of the landowners and bourgeoisie altogether, not to mention the clergy, and got to rule with no checks, balances, or restraints. No wonder Marxism is most popular among the professional class. It is their ultimate model: absolute power, corrupting absolutely.
The professional, educated class is the elite by simple dictionary definition. Oxford, “1 a group of people regarded as the best in a particular society or organization.” Webster’s, “1. d : a group of persons who by virtue of position or education exercise much power or influence.” Note that the word actually comes from the Middle English for “a person elected to office” (Random House). Who gets elected to office? Overwhelmingly, in Canada or the US or anywhere in Europe, educated professionals.
This makes educated professionals the ruling class: Random House, “the class of people exerting power or authority.” They not only run government and the civil service; they run big business. The decisions in corporations are made by MBAs.
While the old landowning class’s titles have now been banned in many countries, and have no legal standing in most others, the professional class’s titles are preserved, and still enforced by the state. Titles like “Dr.,” “Professor,” P. Eng,” “C.A.” The old landowning class, and the bourgeoisie, may have to go through the same courts as the proletariat or the peasantry; but the professional class has its own courts, and special privileges in others. They are judged by their peers in their professional associations. In the regular courts, they can claim special rights to testify or not to testify. While merchants or capitalists are prohibited by law from meeting together and coordinating their business interests, professionals have the absolute right to do this--and even to have their decisions enforced in the courts. They can fix fees, defend monopolies, restrict competition, discipline dissent.
Let’s look at prestige. Harris has a poll claiming to determine what jobs Americans consider most prestigious. The Top Ten: scientist, doctor, firefighter, teacher, military officer, nurse, police officer, clergy, congressman, engineer. I count seven or eight professions, “congressman” being ambiguous. Two are working class occupations. “Merchant” or “entrepreneur” do not appear.
Again, in any list of the best-paying jobs, the top five are medical specialties.
Having a ruling class is not all that terrible; there are arguments for it. Plato had some in the Republic. But when a ruling class tries to pretend it is not the ruling class—that’s sinister. That speaks of fraud.
Monday, November 13, 2006
The US Midterm Elections
The recent election results in the US should delight all true liberals.
Not because the Democrats gained ground; they are really the conservative party. I use “liberal” in its proper, traditional sense: believers in small government and in individual liberties.
Here’s why: historically, if the Democrats control both the White House and Congress, the size and scope of government grows. Conversely, if the Republicans control both the White House and Congress—the size and scope of government grows. The highest rate of growth in US government expenditure over the past forty years was under Lyndon Johnson and a Democratic congress—4.6%. The second-highest rate of growth in US government expenditure over the past forty years was under—George W. Bush.
Conversely, the two lowest rates of government growth were under Bill Clinton and Bush Sr.—both facing opposition Congresses. The president vetoes the profligate bills from the other side. His own profligate bills do not get passed. Everybody wins.
Interestingly, it works the opposite way in Canada: minority governments tend to be the biggest spenders. This is thanks to the NDP, as the inevitable informal partner. We are unlucky in this way.
In fact, this alone might account, over time, for the significant political differences between the US, on the one hand, and Canada and Europe, on the other. The US system is built so that, in case of disagreement among the people, the default is less government and less spending. A parliamentary multi-party system, as favoured in Canada and Europe, is built so that, in case of disagreement among the people, the default is more government and more spending.
Not because the Democrats gained ground; they are really the conservative party. I use “liberal” in its proper, traditional sense: believers in small government and in individual liberties.
Here’s why: historically, if the Democrats control both the White House and Congress, the size and scope of government grows. Conversely, if the Republicans control both the White House and Congress—the size and scope of government grows. The highest rate of growth in US government expenditure over the past forty years was under Lyndon Johnson and a Democratic congress—4.6%. The second-highest rate of growth in US government expenditure over the past forty years was under—George W. Bush.
Conversely, the two lowest rates of government growth were under Bill Clinton and Bush Sr.—both facing opposition Congresses. The president vetoes the profligate bills from the other side. His own profligate bills do not get passed. Everybody wins.
Interestingly, it works the opposite way in Canada: minority governments tend to be the biggest spenders. This is thanks to the NDP, as the inevitable informal partner. We are unlucky in this way.
In fact, this alone might account, over time, for the significant political differences between the US, on the one hand, and Canada and Europe, on the other. The US system is built so that, in case of disagreement among the people, the default is less government and less spending. A parliamentary multi-party system, as favoured in Canada and Europe, is built so that, in case of disagreement among the people, the default is more government and more spending.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Some Movement in the Liberal Race?
Thank heavens for a new electronic subscription to the National Post. Or rather, thanks, Dad.
Andrew Coyne clinically dissects Michael Ignatieff’s definition of Quebec as a nation today and makes Ignatieff look positively muddled in his thinking.
It’s a thing of beauty, a good Coyne column. It is not that Ignatieff is not extremely bright, either. It’s that Coyne is even brighter.
Lorne Gunter theorizes recently in the Post that Ignatieff, who almost had the race tied up, has now blown it with his gaffes. Just rookie inexperience, perhaps, but it does remind folks he’s a rookie, and may need more practice before he’s ready for party leadership. As a frontrunner, there is the danger that all his most likely supporters are already behind him, and those who are not currently backing him may be scared off by his gaffes or, indeed, horrified by what he appears (and only appears, I believe) to have said: that Quebec is a nation, that Israel is guilty of war crimes, that the deaths of Palestinians are not worth losing sleep over, that he will not stay in the party if he does not like the new leader, that torture is useful…
Then there's Bob Rae, a bit ahead of the pack among his rivals. Yet Bob Rae has his own serious negatives. A while back, when he seemed to be getting some momentum, this seemed to be killed quickly by increased media focus. It becomes apparent, most notably, that the Conservatives could have a lot of fun referring to his record in Ontario. Another issue is that, as I noted here, Rae looks a bit like the Chretien candidate, which alienates Martinites and resalts old wounds.
Which leaves—Stephane Dion. It seems to be his turn for a boomlet. Latest polls suggest he has the most growth potential. He is running fourth in delegates, but a close fourth. And where was Joe Clark on the first ballot back when he first won the PC leadership? Where was Dalton McGuinty?
Fourth can work. Fourth keeps you out of the firing line until the strategic moment.
Those who crave in Ignatieff an intellectual leader, a second Pierre Trudeau, could be happy with Dion. They lose nothing with him on that score. Those who want the political experience of a Rae also lose nothing with Dion. Those who fear reopening the Constitution can feel secure with him. He would alienate neither Martinites nor Chretienites.
Rumour has it that there is a deal between Dion and Kennedy: whoever is ahead on the third ballot, the other comes to him. If true, this works hugely in Dion’s favour. If he has the greater growth potential, he is more likely to be ahead on the third ballot. So Kennedy comes to him. Unless Ignatieff or Rae is very close at this moment, or unless one of them goes to the other at about the same time, this could give crucial momentum at a crucial moment.
Why does it work for Kennedy? Because he probably can’t get the leadership himself. His French is not good enough, and his support in Quebec is not good enough. This matters, because the Liberals just cannot do without Quebec. On the other hand, if he is kingmaker for Dion, he probably gets to be his Anglophone lieutenant and heir apparent, meanwhile dusting up his French for the next round. Dion needs someone in this capacity—his own English is not stellar.
Of course, many things could go wrong with this scenario. If Dion instead goes to Kennedy, I think they both go down. It might not get as far as a third ballot. Someone may get cold feet at the last moment, as happened with Hellyer and Winters back in '68. A brilliant speech at the convention could change the math. Or a sudden endorsement—Brison going to Ignatieff on the eve of the convention, for example.
Ignatieff may well still pull it out. But Dion's chances are looking better than they were a few months ago.
Andrew Coyne clinically dissects Michael Ignatieff’s definition of Quebec as a nation today and makes Ignatieff look positively muddled in his thinking.
It’s a thing of beauty, a good Coyne column. It is not that Ignatieff is not extremely bright, either. It’s that Coyne is even brighter.
Lorne Gunter theorizes recently in the Post that Ignatieff, who almost had the race tied up, has now blown it with his gaffes. Just rookie inexperience, perhaps, but it does remind folks he’s a rookie, and may need more practice before he’s ready for party leadership. As a frontrunner, there is the danger that all his most likely supporters are already behind him, and those who are not currently backing him may be scared off by his gaffes or, indeed, horrified by what he appears (and only appears, I believe) to have said: that Quebec is a nation, that Israel is guilty of war crimes, that the deaths of Palestinians are not worth losing sleep over, that he will not stay in the party if he does not like the new leader, that torture is useful…
Then there's Bob Rae, a bit ahead of the pack among his rivals. Yet Bob Rae has his own serious negatives. A while back, when he seemed to be getting some momentum, this seemed to be killed quickly by increased media focus. It becomes apparent, most notably, that the Conservatives could have a lot of fun referring to his record in Ontario. Another issue is that, as I noted here, Rae looks a bit like the Chretien candidate, which alienates Martinites and resalts old wounds.
Which leaves—Stephane Dion. It seems to be his turn for a boomlet. Latest polls suggest he has the most growth potential. He is running fourth in delegates, but a close fourth. And where was Joe Clark on the first ballot back when he first won the PC leadership? Where was Dalton McGuinty?
Fourth can work. Fourth keeps you out of the firing line until the strategic moment.
Those who crave in Ignatieff an intellectual leader, a second Pierre Trudeau, could be happy with Dion. They lose nothing with him on that score. Those who want the political experience of a Rae also lose nothing with Dion. Those who fear reopening the Constitution can feel secure with him. He would alienate neither Martinites nor Chretienites.
Rumour has it that there is a deal between Dion and Kennedy: whoever is ahead on the third ballot, the other comes to him. If true, this works hugely in Dion’s favour. If he has the greater growth potential, he is more likely to be ahead on the third ballot. So Kennedy comes to him. Unless Ignatieff or Rae is very close at this moment, or unless one of them goes to the other at about the same time, this could give crucial momentum at a crucial moment.
Why does it work for Kennedy? Because he probably can’t get the leadership himself. His French is not good enough, and his support in Quebec is not good enough. This matters, because the Liberals just cannot do without Quebec. On the other hand, if he is kingmaker for Dion, he probably gets to be his Anglophone lieutenant and heir apparent, meanwhile dusting up his French for the next round. Dion needs someone in this capacity—his own English is not stellar.
Of course, many things could go wrong with this scenario. If Dion instead goes to Kennedy, I think they both go down. It might not get as far as a third ballot. Someone may get cold feet at the last moment, as happened with Hellyer and Winters back in '68. A brilliant speech at the convention could change the math. Or a sudden endorsement—Brison going to Ignatieff on the eve of the convention, for example.
Ignatieff may well still pull it out. But Dion's chances are looking better than they were a few months ago.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Is Half a Leaf Better than None?
Andrew Coyne, with his usual spare, elegant, relentlessly rational style, makes the case against dual citizenship beautifully. See his blog, entry for November 8.
I have a personal interest here: my wife is Filipina, and though my son is a Canadian citizen, born in Canada, we were hoping to arrange dual citizenship for him. This would involve obvious benefits: he could own property in the Philippines, as non-citizens cannot, and still go to university in Canada at the lower local tuition.
But fair is fair. Dual citizenship means that there are two classes of Canadian, something that should be anathema in a democracy like Canada. It is, in effect, a colonial arrangement, with Canada the colonized.
As I have urged here before, dual citizenship should be ended.
I have a personal interest here: my wife is Filipina, and though my son is a Canadian citizen, born in Canada, we were hoping to arrange dual citizenship for him. This would involve obvious benefits: he could own property in the Philippines, as non-citizens cannot, and still go to university in Canada at the lower local tuition.
But fair is fair. Dual citizenship means that there are two classes of Canadian, something that should be anathema in a democracy like Canada. It is, in effect, a colonial arrangement, with Canada the colonized.
As I have urged here before, dual citizenship should be ended.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Rain Man in the Desert
With my Arab students, I recently watched the classic film Rain Man. At the end of the movie, you may recall, there is a custody hearing, in which a local Los Angeles “expert” rules against Charlie Babbitt’s application to gain custody of his brother Raymond, who is autistic. Instead, custody is awarded to Raymond’s doctor, and he is sent back to his institution in Ohio.
Watching the film, I could not help feeling, personally, that this result, true to life as it no doubt was, was a travesty of justice and of humanity. The notion that his doctor had more claim to him than his family nauseated me. The assumption that an institution could do better for someone disabled than a caring family seemed madness. And not just any institution—one a continent away from his surviving family, so that he would get no visits. Nobody would check on his welfare—everything was left to the trustworthy doctor.
Further, it seemed obviously unjust to have a dispute between a layman and a doctor decided by another doctor—with whom there had obviously been prior communications, professional to professional. It reeked of power and privilege, not to say corruption.
All of this was compounded, mind, by my own conviction that the medical profession really have no idea what they are doing with an autistic savant—what business do physicians have dealing with mental, which is to say spiritual, phenomena? What business do they have making critical life decisions for someone obviously more intelligent than they are?
Nevertheless, taking care not to reveal my own feelings, I asked my class whether they thought the ending was right—whether Raymond Babbitt was better off going back to the institution. I was hoping for some kind of discussion of the philosophical issues.
But, without discussion, every single one of them said it was not. They could not conceive of any justification for what actually happened in the movie.
Of course, this is not real life, but the writers presumably selected it as, in their minds, the most plausible outcome. Nor did Western audiences apparently feel that it was unrealistically gloomy—despite their notorious preference for happy endings.
In this, as in not a few other things, Western culture is on the wrong road. For all the shouting on both sides, for all the wearying prejudice, the Arab and the Muslim world does have things to teach us. And I fear we are not listening carefully enough.
Watching the film, I could not help feeling, personally, that this result, true to life as it no doubt was, was a travesty of justice and of humanity. The notion that his doctor had more claim to him than his family nauseated me. The assumption that an institution could do better for someone disabled than a caring family seemed madness. And not just any institution—one a continent away from his surviving family, so that he would get no visits. Nobody would check on his welfare—everything was left to the trustworthy doctor.
Further, it seemed obviously unjust to have a dispute between a layman and a doctor decided by another doctor—with whom there had obviously been prior communications, professional to professional. It reeked of power and privilege, not to say corruption.
All of this was compounded, mind, by my own conviction that the medical profession really have no idea what they are doing with an autistic savant—what business do physicians have dealing with mental, which is to say spiritual, phenomena? What business do they have making critical life decisions for someone obviously more intelligent than they are?
Nevertheless, taking care not to reveal my own feelings, I asked my class whether they thought the ending was right—whether Raymond Babbitt was better off going back to the institution. I was hoping for some kind of discussion of the philosophical issues.
But, without discussion, every single one of them said it was not. They could not conceive of any justification for what actually happened in the movie.
Of course, this is not real life, but the writers presumably selected it as, in their minds, the most plausible outcome. Nor did Western audiences apparently feel that it was unrealistically gloomy—despite their notorious preference for happy endings.
In this, as in not a few other things, Western culture is on the wrong road. For all the shouting on both sides, for all the wearying prejudice, the Arab and the Muslim world does have things to teach us. And I fear we are not listening carefully enough.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Professional Marxists
A good friend of mine has recently surprised me by—if I understand him correctly—declaring himself a Marxist. And quite casually, too. He further claimed, and as a founder he should know, that an organization of which I once was president was founded on Marxist principles.
It is a bit surprising that there are still Marxists around. Haven’t they heard? It’s not just that the Berlin Wall has fallen, that the Communist experiment has been declared a failure in Russia, Eastern Europe and, de facto, China. I mean that Marx has been conclusively disproved in theory as well as in practice. Science lives and dies on reproducible results, and Marx claimed to be scientific. And Marx’s predictions have been completely wrong. Wealth has not become more and more concentrated in fewer and fewer hands; the proletariat has not grown larger and larger, and ever poorer. More or less the opposite has happened since his time. In developed countries, the proletariat is now much smaller, the grand capitalist class has disappeared, and it is the professional “middle class” that has grown. A class Marx did not even realize existed.
So why this odd and touching faith, by those who should be well-educated, in a theory that is now about as credible, on the face of it, as the idea that the earth is flat, or that the sun orbits the earth?
But more than that; it ought to be morally difficult to be Marxist. After all, few would admit today to being Fascists, certainly not educated professionals in polite company. Yet Marxism is, as we have pointed out before in this space, more or less the same thing. Fascism was one interpretation of Marx; and in practice, Hitler was quite literally no worse than Stalin, Mao, or Pol Pot. Stalin and Mao killed more people than Hitler did, and Pol Pot holds the record for highest percentage of a country’s population. Hitler is considered evil incarnate; yet people like my friend still seem to remember Mao, at least, quite fondly.
The only real difference between Comintern Marxism and its Fascist variant is that Fascism identified the various classes in racial terms. The grand bourgeoisie was, for the Nazis, essentially Jewish. The Italian race was, for Mussolini, essentially proletarian.
But is it really more moral to kill millions because of their supposed class than for their supposed race?
Indeed, even if it were, the identification of race with class keeps resurfacing. For American Marxists, for example, white Anglo males seem to be racially and sexually “bourgeois,” just as were the Jews. Poor white males are not worthy of the same socialist support as poor black women.
The error is the same, and it is deceptively attractive. Both Fascism and Marxism feign morality by talking of solidarity and of putting away selfish aims. But they limit this supposed altruism to members of one’s own class or race. This is in the end no more moral than pure selfishness—only more harmful. It is merely egotism speaking in chorus, and carrying a bigger stick. And the necessary corollary to its mock brotherhood is the need to crush Samaritans.
True morality, like Christianity, makes clear that one’s solidarity must extend beyond class and race; that all men are brothers.
This same error shows up in many forms. Feminism calls for solidarity only with one’s own sex. Same callousness, same inhumanity, same result: the abortion holocaust. “Islamism” (which is not true Islam) calls for solidarity only with one’s co-religionists. “Kaffirs” one is free to kill. Same error, same inhumanity, same result.
And more: “family values.” Just another form of the same error. An extreme adherence to one’s own family is just as wrong as to one’s race, nation, or class. Nepotism is a serious problem is many parts of the world. For if this is morality, Eve never sinned. She was not thinking only of herself, after all, in taking the apple. She was thinking of Adam as well. She wanted her entire family to “be as gods, knowing good and evil.” Self over other is merely the second generation of the same sin.
Marxism is this same sin. It invites everyone to put the interests of their class ahead of the interests of all mankind. It does this in part by arguing, “this is simply the way things are; everybody else is doing this.” But that is the same argument Fascism uses. Even if true, two wrongs never made a right.
Why does it remain so attractive to a certain group? Because, like fascism, feminism, and “family values,” it is a wonderful alibi. It can allow you to do whatever is best for you and yours while claiming morality—and believing one is moral is, in the end, a basic human need.
Of course, Marxism holds little or no attraction to the proletariat—the “rednecks,” to use the current Marxist slang. Rednecks mostly vote conservative. They are the declared enemy of the modern Marxist. Even if Marxism were true, it would be of no value to the proletariat. They have no power and no influence, and Marxism can’t give it to them even if it wanted to. Being powerless, naturally their main concern is to get government to leave them alone. They dislike Marxism because Marxism is conspicuously against doing this.
Who are the Marxists? The group it attracts is an elite: the educated classes. Indeed, this is the elite, throughout history. Despite Marxist claims, they have always ruled. This, the group my friend belongs to, is the same group that, in India, is called the Brahmins, the highest caste. In China, they are called Mandarins, and they have always run the Chinese government. In ancient Israel they were the scribes, Sadducees, and Pharisees; in ancient Greece, the sophists. The well-educated professionals. My Marxist friend is a well-educated professional from a wealthy family. So was Marx himself.
These are the Marxists; and these have always been the Marxists, from Marx through Lenin and Mao and Pol Pot and Che Guevara to my friend and the professional association he helped found.
While useless to the proletariat, Marxism is fantastically useful to this ruling elite. Most importantly, it diverts the finger of blame. It denies that this ruling elite is the ruling elite, and posits instead some shadowy “capitalist class.” Which, if it never actually existed, was always supposed to appear in the near future if we weren’t all very careful. Kind of like global warming. Nothing unites behind the present leadership like a common enemy.
Marxism helpfully gives this elite permission to grab all the power and money they want, while claiming to be the good guys and demonizing their opponents. Professional associations, for example, can pursue the interests of their members against all comers, and claim it is somehow for the greater good. They are merely protecting the unwashed against the evil capitalists. They must be strong and wealthy in order to do that.
It’s a great gig. Too good to give up just because it has been objectively disproved. That’s quite beside the point.
Not that I believe my friend, or most of the folks in the professions who are Marxists, are consciously and cynically doing this. Most of them are perfectly decent people; good Germans. All they know, I suspect, is that by thinking this way they can feel good about themselves, and are getting what they want. They have not thought it through—albeit they may not want to think it through, and may be unreasonably hostile to any suggestion that their theory is false. For if they actually see it to be false, they lose the good feeling that they are behaving morally.
Hence the hostility.
It is a bit surprising that there are still Marxists around. Haven’t they heard? It’s not just that the Berlin Wall has fallen, that the Communist experiment has been declared a failure in Russia, Eastern Europe and, de facto, China. I mean that Marx has been conclusively disproved in theory as well as in practice. Science lives and dies on reproducible results, and Marx claimed to be scientific. And Marx’s predictions have been completely wrong. Wealth has not become more and more concentrated in fewer and fewer hands; the proletariat has not grown larger and larger, and ever poorer. More or less the opposite has happened since his time. In developed countries, the proletariat is now much smaller, the grand capitalist class has disappeared, and it is the professional “middle class” that has grown. A class Marx did not even realize existed.
So why this odd and touching faith, by those who should be well-educated, in a theory that is now about as credible, on the face of it, as the idea that the earth is flat, or that the sun orbits the earth?
But more than that; it ought to be morally difficult to be Marxist. After all, few would admit today to being Fascists, certainly not educated professionals in polite company. Yet Marxism is, as we have pointed out before in this space, more or less the same thing. Fascism was one interpretation of Marx; and in practice, Hitler was quite literally no worse than Stalin, Mao, or Pol Pot. Stalin and Mao killed more people than Hitler did, and Pol Pot holds the record for highest percentage of a country’s population. Hitler is considered evil incarnate; yet people like my friend still seem to remember Mao, at least, quite fondly.
The only real difference between Comintern Marxism and its Fascist variant is that Fascism identified the various classes in racial terms. The grand bourgeoisie was, for the Nazis, essentially Jewish. The Italian race was, for Mussolini, essentially proletarian.
But is it really more moral to kill millions because of their supposed class than for their supposed race?
Indeed, even if it were, the identification of race with class keeps resurfacing. For American Marxists, for example, white Anglo males seem to be racially and sexually “bourgeois,” just as were the Jews. Poor white males are not worthy of the same socialist support as poor black women.
The error is the same, and it is deceptively attractive. Both Fascism and Marxism feign morality by talking of solidarity and of putting away selfish aims. But they limit this supposed altruism to members of one’s own class or race. This is in the end no more moral than pure selfishness—only more harmful. It is merely egotism speaking in chorus, and carrying a bigger stick. And the necessary corollary to its mock brotherhood is the need to crush Samaritans.
True morality, like Christianity, makes clear that one’s solidarity must extend beyond class and race; that all men are brothers.
This same error shows up in many forms. Feminism calls for solidarity only with one’s own sex. Same callousness, same inhumanity, same result: the abortion holocaust. “Islamism” (which is not true Islam) calls for solidarity only with one’s co-religionists. “Kaffirs” one is free to kill. Same error, same inhumanity, same result.
And more: “family values.” Just another form of the same error. An extreme adherence to one’s own family is just as wrong as to one’s race, nation, or class. Nepotism is a serious problem is many parts of the world. For if this is morality, Eve never sinned. She was not thinking only of herself, after all, in taking the apple. She was thinking of Adam as well. She wanted her entire family to “be as gods, knowing good and evil.” Self over other is merely the second generation of the same sin.
Marxism is this same sin. It invites everyone to put the interests of their class ahead of the interests of all mankind. It does this in part by arguing, “this is simply the way things are; everybody else is doing this.” But that is the same argument Fascism uses. Even if true, two wrongs never made a right.
Why does it remain so attractive to a certain group? Because, like fascism, feminism, and “family values,” it is a wonderful alibi. It can allow you to do whatever is best for you and yours while claiming morality—and believing one is moral is, in the end, a basic human need.
Of course, Marxism holds little or no attraction to the proletariat—the “rednecks,” to use the current Marxist slang. Rednecks mostly vote conservative. They are the declared enemy of the modern Marxist. Even if Marxism were true, it would be of no value to the proletariat. They have no power and no influence, and Marxism can’t give it to them even if it wanted to. Being powerless, naturally their main concern is to get government to leave them alone. They dislike Marxism because Marxism is conspicuously against doing this.
Who are the Marxists? The group it attracts is an elite: the educated classes. Indeed, this is the elite, throughout history. Despite Marxist claims, they have always ruled. This, the group my friend belongs to, is the same group that, in India, is called the Brahmins, the highest caste. In China, they are called Mandarins, and they have always run the Chinese government. In ancient Israel they were the scribes, Sadducees, and Pharisees; in ancient Greece, the sophists. The well-educated professionals. My Marxist friend is a well-educated professional from a wealthy family. So was Marx himself.
These are the Marxists; and these have always been the Marxists, from Marx through Lenin and Mao and Pol Pot and Che Guevara to my friend and the professional association he helped found.
While useless to the proletariat, Marxism is fantastically useful to this ruling elite. Most importantly, it diverts the finger of blame. It denies that this ruling elite is the ruling elite, and posits instead some shadowy “capitalist class.” Which, if it never actually existed, was always supposed to appear in the near future if we weren’t all very careful. Kind of like global warming. Nothing unites behind the present leadership like a common enemy.
Marxism helpfully gives this elite permission to grab all the power and money they want, while claiming to be the good guys and demonizing their opponents. Professional associations, for example, can pursue the interests of their members against all comers, and claim it is somehow for the greater good. They are merely protecting the unwashed against the evil capitalists. They must be strong and wealthy in order to do that.
It’s a great gig. Too good to give up just because it has been objectively disproved. That’s quite beside the point.
Not that I believe my friend, or most of the folks in the professions who are Marxists, are consciously and cynically doing this. Most of them are perfectly decent people; good Germans. All they know, I suspect, is that by thinking this way they can feel good about themselves, and are getting what they want. They have not thought it through—albeit they may not want to think it through, and may be unreasonably hostile to any suggestion that their theory is false. For if they actually see it to be false, they lose the good feeling that they are behaving morally.
Hence the hostility.
Monday, November 06, 2006
This Space Left Unintentionally Blank
Apologies for not posting more frequently recently. The truth is, I've been having trouble getting into the blog. I hope this is because it is now attracting so much traffic it is jamming Blogger's servers. More likely, it is just gremlins.
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Christianity and Genocide
A lot of people seem to have convinced themselves of the odd notion that belief in Christianity somehow involves “genocide.” Including, sadly, our own former Governor-General’s vice-regal consort, John Ralston Saul.
Let’s consider, if we may, the great genocides of history.
Or at least, of the 20th century, because it is the golden age of genocide, because it offers us the most reliable figures, and because it suggests what is a current clear and present danger.
Here are the figures of R.J. Rummel, who has specialized in trying to come up with hard figures:
Let’s consider, if we may, the great genocides of history.
Or at least, of the 20th century, because it is the golden age of genocide, because it offers us the most reliable figures, and because it suggests what is a current clear and present danger.
Here are the figures of R.J. Rummel, who has specialized in trying to come up with hard figures:
- Mao: 77 million killed. Atheist government.
- USSR: 62 million killed. Atheist government.
- Hitler: 21 million killed. Atheist/neo-paganist government.
- Pol Pot: 4 million killed, out of a total population of 7 million. According to Guinness, the worst genocide ever on a per capita basis. Atheist government.
- Imperial Japan: 3-10 million. Shamanist (Shinto) government.
- Armenian Massacre: 4.3 million, Armenians and others. Partly under a Muslim government, but secularist movement (Young Turks). Mostly under an aggressively secularist government.
- Polish expulsion of Germans: 2 million. Atheist government.
- North Korea: 1.6 million. Atheist government.
- Pakistani genocide in Bangladesh: 1.5 million. Muslim secularist government.
- Revolutionary Mexico: 1.4 million. Atheist (Marxist) government.
- Tsarist Russia: 1 million. Christian government.
Is there perhaps a pattern forming here? Let’s see; I count:
- Atheists: 7
- Muslims: 2 (both secularist governments)
- Shamanists: 1
- Christians: 1
Seems striking to me. It is not as if atheist governments form anything like that proportion of total governments in the 20th century. Indeed, it even seems proper to say that genocide, while otherwise rare, is a defining feature of atheist governments.
For earlier periods, figures are far less certain. A few of the biggest seem to be:
- Genghiz Khan. 30 million. Atheist/shamanist government.
- Taiping Rebellion. 12 million. Confucian/Buddhist government. Because this happened only in the mid-nineteenth century, figures are fairly reliable.
The worst massacre in history in which Christianity figured prominently seems to be the Thirty Years war: estimated by R.J. Rummel at 6 million killed.
And note that this is not unambiguously religious in nature either: “Catholic” France fought on the “Protestant” side.
Looking at the record, I think I’d rather try my chances with an overtly Christian government than with any New Agers or atheists. The great advantage of a Christian government is that it allows an objective check on the morality of its actions.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Amazons
A friend recently revived the old saw that, if women were in power, we would have fewer wars.
Let’s take a look. For we have had enough women in power, here and there, that a statistical sample is probably possible.
Let’s check that record:
Margaret Thatcher – war with Argentina.
Indira Gandhi – war with Pakistan.
Mrs. Bandaranaike – civil war.
Golda Meir – war with Egypt and Syria.
Catherine the Great – war with the Ottoman Empire, Poland-Lithuania, Sweden; not to mention deposing her husband.
Queen Anne – “Queen Anne’s War,” against France and Spain.
Queen Elizabeth I – war with Spain, Ireland, annexation of Scotland.
Queen Mary – war with France, religious persecutions-“Bloody Mary.”
Gloria Macapagal Arroyo – not significantly involved in war—albeit insurrections in the southern Philippines, which had seemed to be resolved under Ramos, continue. Deposed predecessor.
Let’s keep going, shall we?
Cleopatra — civil war with Rome.
Tzu-Hsi, dowager empress of China – war with Japan, civil war.
Zenobia – war with Rome.
Christina of Sweden – no wars while ruling Sweden. On the other hand, she did try later to seize power in both Naples and Poland.
Maria Theresa of Austria – War of the Austrian Succession, Seven Years’ War with Prussia.
Empress Irene of Byzantium – war with the Franks, Slavs, Arabs. Deposed and blinded her own son.
Catherine de Medici – French Wars of Religion.
It seems to me there’s a pattern forming here.
I submit that any similar random list of men in power would look at least somewhat more peaceful. Women seem, if anything, by nature more partisan, less inclined to compromise, than men. This may come from a biological tendency of animal mothers to fiercely defend children.
This may, indeed, be why it is in most parts of the world considered wisest to leave political power to the men. Men, being the ones obliged to go out and get killed in a war, are probably naturally less inclined to start one.
Let’s take a look. For we have had enough women in power, here and there, that a statistical sample is probably possible.
Let’s check that record:
Margaret Thatcher – war with Argentina.
Indira Gandhi – war with Pakistan.
Mrs. Bandaranaike – civil war.
Golda Meir – war with Egypt and Syria.
Catherine the Great – war with the Ottoman Empire, Poland-Lithuania, Sweden; not to mention deposing her husband.
Queen Anne – “Queen Anne’s War,” against France and Spain.
Queen Elizabeth I – war with Spain, Ireland, annexation of Scotland.
Queen Mary – war with France, religious persecutions-“Bloody Mary.”
Gloria Macapagal Arroyo – not significantly involved in war—albeit insurrections in the southern Philippines, which had seemed to be resolved under Ramos, continue. Deposed predecessor.
Let’s keep going, shall we?
Cleopatra — civil war with Rome.
Tzu-Hsi, dowager empress of China – war with Japan, civil war.
Zenobia – war with Rome.
Christina of Sweden – no wars while ruling Sweden. On the other hand, she did try later to seize power in both Naples and Poland.
Maria Theresa of Austria – War of the Austrian Succession, Seven Years’ War with Prussia.
Empress Irene of Byzantium – war with the Franks, Slavs, Arabs. Deposed and blinded her own son.
Catherine de Medici – French Wars of Religion.
It seems to me there’s a pattern forming here.
I submit that any similar random list of men in power would look at least somewhat more peaceful. Women seem, if anything, by nature more partisan, less inclined to compromise, than men. This may come from a biological tendency of animal mothers to fiercely defend children.
This may, indeed, be why it is in most parts of the world considered wisest to leave political power to the men. Men, being the ones obliged to go out and get killed in a war, are probably naturally less inclined to start one.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Why We Need Organized Religion
It takes a lot of knocks; people want to believe they can be "spiritual" without it; but organized religion is necessary.
For suppose everyone can just deal with God on their own? Then suppose, a friend asks, a voice in your head claiming to be God one day tells you to kill someone?
For after all, it is the plain truth that God has the right to kill. He kills everyone. Remember the story of Abraham and Isaac. So how do you know it is not God?
But, on the other hand, there are many spirits. How does one at the same time avoid Eve’s error, taking Satan instead of God as authoritative? Or believing a mere hallucination? I had a good friend who was schizophrenic, and he often heard a metallic voice claiming to be God ordering him to jump off his apartment balcony, or in front of a subway train.
Accordingly, we need checks and balances. Possible individual revelation must be tested against some standard. In other words, we need some kind of organized religion.
We must “test the spirits,” as St. Paul says. For Catholics, any supposed “voice” that tells us to violate the Ten Commandments, or the Golden Rule, or established morals or doctrine, or reason, or the Bible, or to deny Jesus Christ, is thereby known not to be the voice of God.
Other organized religions, no doubt, have their own tests, developed from the experiences of those who have gone before. This is not a game: there is life and death, and worse than death, in the balance.
And among religions, it is to Catholicism’s great credit, it seems to me, not just that it has stood for so long the test of time, but that it adheres so faithfully to doctrine and morals, to the testing of spirits. So much so that, rather than ever striking out anew, even at its inception it took pains to incorporate and test itself against earlier scriptures: its Bible incorporates the Jewish Bible. No other major religion does, and that makes them, I think, relatively less trustworthy. They admit less objective checking of their veracity. It is also greatly to its credit that, as Benedict pointed out recently, Catholicism does not allow faith to supersede reason. Both criteria must be met; that is it in accord with faith, and that it is in accord with reason. And Christianity welcomes science, and open debate, to an extent few religions have. All truths are tested and found sound and true.
It can be frustrating at times; many priests are not really very spiritual. Some are even child molesters. And there are a lot of times when God seems more accessible on a quiet lake than in a cathedral. And by all means, we should talk to God where we find him. But anyone who supposes we do not therefore need organized religion, or priests, or cathedrals, is wet behind his spiritual ears. I fear for their safety, as I might fear for a toddler playing with an electrical outlet and a fork.
For suppose everyone can just deal with God on their own? Then suppose, a friend asks, a voice in your head claiming to be God one day tells you to kill someone?
For after all, it is the plain truth that God has the right to kill. He kills everyone. Remember the story of Abraham and Isaac. So how do you know it is not God?
But, on the other hand, there are many spirits. How does one at the same time avoid Eve’s error, taking Satan instead of God as authoritative? Or believing a mere hallucination? I had a good friend who was schizophrenic, and he often heard a metallic voice claiming to be God ordering him to jump off his apartment balcony, or in front of a subway train.
Accordingly, we need checks and balances. Possible individual revelation must be tested against some standard. In other words, we need some kind of organized religion.
We must “test the spirits,” as St. Paul says. For Catholics, any supposed “voice” that tells us to violate the Ten Commandments, or the Golden Rule, or established morals or doctrine, or reason, or the Bible, or to deny Jesus Christ, is thereby known not to be the voice of God.
Other organized religions, no doubt, have their own tests, developed from the experiences of those who have gone before. This is not a game: there is life and death, and worse than death, in the balance.
And among religions, it is to Catholicism’s great credit, it seems to me, not just that it has stood for so long the test of time, but that it adheres so faithfully to doctrine and morals, to the testing of spirits. So much so that, rather than ever striking out anew, even at its inception it took pains to incorporate and test itself against earlier scriptures: its Bible incorporates the Jewish Bible. No other major religion does, and that makes them, I think, relatively less trustworthy. They admit less objective checking of their veracity. It is also greatly to its credit that, as Benedict pointed out recently, Catholicism does not allow faith to supersede reason. Both criteria must be met; that is it in accord with faith, and that it is in accord with reason. And Christianity welcomes science, and open debate, to an extent few religions have. All truths are tested and found sound and true.
It can be frustrating at times; many priests are not really very spiritual. Some are even child molesters. And there are a lot of times when God seems more accessible on a quiet lake than in a cathedral. And by all means, we should talk to God where we find him. But anyone who supposes we do not therefore need organized religion, or priests, or cathedrals, is wet behind his spiritual ears. I fear for their safety, as I might fear for a toddler playing with an electrical outlet and a fork.
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