When a motor vehicle (car, van, lorry) is travelling steadily at its optimum speed for minimising fuel consumption (usually between 25 mph and 50 mph), its fuel consumption is very much lower than when it is travelling fast or changing speed. I now know this for sure because my replacement car has a fuel consumption computer. I am able to see in numerical terms, the effect on my car's fuel consumption of driving style choices that I make.
During the mid-1970s, in response to massive increases in the price of crude oil imposed by the OPEC countries (and therefore causing a significant shift in the balance of trade), the UK national speed limit was reduced in order to reduce national fuel consumption. From Wikipedia: "It was reduced to 50 mph (80 km/h) in response to the 1973 oil crisis, and restored to 70 mph (112 km/h) in 1974."
In relation to the US, I found the following paragraph here:
"In the midst of an energy crisis touched off by conflict in the Middle East (see October 17, 1973), President Richard Nixon signs the Emergency Highway Energy Conservation Act, establishing a maximum national speed limit. No highway projects may be approved in any State having a maximum speed limit over 55 m.p.h. The Act, part of a nationwide effort to save oil, is a result of an oil embargo imposed by the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries that forced Americans into long lines at gas stations. President Nixon estimates the new speed limit can save nearly 200,000 barrels of fuel a day."
Were the UK national speed limit to be reduced again to 50 mph, the consequence would be a significant reduction in greenhouse gases produced by motor vehicles. Additionally, motorists would save money because they would need to buy less fuel. Lower road speeds would permit roads to carry denser traffic, thus, perhaps counter-intuitively, reducing some congestion. Further, according to the police, excessive speed is indicated in a majority of road traffic accidents. Limiting speed to 50 mph has the chance, therefore, of reducing the number of accidents, their severity and the number of casualties. (I read somewhere that reduction in the number of casualties of road traffic accidents had plateaued, and that further measures were going to be required if the numbers were to be reduced further.) Longer journey times for lengthy journeys might mean that more journeys would be undertaken using public transport, and there might be a long-overdue increase in the use of video-conferencing, and thus a reduction in the number of journeys undertaken.
To my knowledge, no-one is talking about this proposal as an option to reduce greenhouse gas emissions from transport. Is there a reason for this? Am I missing something? As a first step, it would seem like an obvious and relatively cheap and pain-free adjustment that could be made.
Some further thoughts:
1. The speedometer in most UK cars runs up to 160 mph. This is bizarre because the national speed limit in the UK is 70 mph, and (with the exception of Lower Saxony) nowhere else in Europe exceeds 130 kph. The unnecessary range of the speedometer dial achieves two things: I am less clear about my precise speed because the reading is always limited to a small proportion of the speedometer dial; I am always given the sense that I am driving slowly compared with the apparent potential of the car.
2. My car has the potential to travel much faster than I shall ever be legally allowed to drive it.
3. Every morning when I commute to work, an overwhelming majority of the traffic noticeably exceeds the speed limit for substantial portions of the journey.
4. Despite huge negative attention devoted by UK motorists and news media to speed cameras on UK roads, the reality is that the number of speed cameras relative to the extent of roads on which speeding takes place is pitiful.
5. Few UK cars are fitted with cruise control. The price for retrofitting cruise control is prohibitively high. Cruise control could help motorists to observe speed limits.
6. The overwhelming majority of car advertisements in the UK emphasise using cars for fun and excitement. This is not a message that is compatible with attempting to reduce CO2 emissions and traffic. Resolving issues related to climate change requires that people stop seeing their car as a form of recreation.
7. The points I have made above impact on the daily lives of ordinary people. I suspect that many people are willing to make token efforts to mitigate climate change, provided that they are not required to change how they live their life. I believe that climate change is orders of magnitude bigger than the majority of people are appreciating. Token efforts sound to me like rearranging deckchairs on the Titanic. Until people realise that real change needs to take place, across a range of lifestyle issues, such as the speed at which they drive their cars, CO2 emissions are not going to fall.
Beatrice 16 May, 2008 15:11 commented...
Yes, you're absolutely right about deckcahairs on the Titanic. I think people just cannot cope with the enormity of the implications of runaway climate change and so refuse to accept it is real. There are some interesting articles about on the psychology of climate change denial eg this one by George Marshall:http://www.ecoglobe.ch/motivation/e/clim2922.htm
Postscript
Whilst what I have written above sounds a little like pious polemic, I believe it sufficiently both to have reduced my driving speed to 50 mph where the speed limit is 70 mph, and to have changed my driving style so that I accelerate only slowly and, within the limits of safety, brake as little as possible. It has taken a while to drive more sedately, detaching myself from the frantic impatience of other motorists. I sometimes resort to singing "I feel pretty" - it helps.
14 March 2008
12 March 2008
Why I do not call myself a conservative
I describe myself as a liberal person. I am happy to be described as very liberal. I was recently challenged to be clear about what I mean by liberal in contrast with conservative.
Phenomenology
As a counsellor, I recognise that everyone constructs their world, the world, in their own, unique way. I do not believe that there is a correct way to understand the world. I am happy to admit that there are more and less functional ways to understand the world. For example, to believe that the moon is made of cheese may be imaginative, but is probably inaccurate. If, like Wallace and Grommit, one were to visit the moon in the hope of finding hunks of Wensleydale cheese lying around, the chances of coming away disappointed are high. I believe that many people are ignorant about many aspects of the world about which they hold views, and just as many people make only pitiable attempts (if any) to find out the facts. In this sense, therefore, the uniqueness of their construct is based on ignorance and prejudice. However, even were this not the case, every person would still have a different life story, a different set of experiences, a different collection of interests, giving them a different way of describing the world: a childless couple who are career-focused is likely to describe the world differently from a single-mother with five children; a white, male, middle-aged Surrey stockbroker is likely to describe the world differently from a young North African woman living in the banlieux of Paris; a dairy farmer in New Hampshire is likely to describe the world differently from a personal escort in Tokyo. As a counsellor, I would be unable to make a value judgment about the relative superiority of any description of the world. I believe that this position marks me out as liberal. To me, a conservative person is someone who considers either that there is a correct view of the world, or considers that their own view of the world has greater validity than the views of other people.
Family
In the UK, the Conservative Party identifies itself as party that upholds family values. What this position refers to, however, is a narrow view of family: a man, married to a woman, with a number of children born within that marriage. Ideally there will also be grandparents, uncles and aunts, cousins and nieces in an extended family. There is something very 'blood' about this. There is also an 'ideal', from which many depart.
I am not an uncritical fan of the family. My family of origin fitted this narrow, 'ideal', view, and was dysfunctional and abusive. Dysfunctionality and abuse are also significant aspects of the family experience of many people who I have counselled. I have a preference for a Lilo and Stitch view of family: "Family means nobody gets left behind" even when the family consists of two sisters and an alien. For me, family consists of the people we live amongst, the people who frequent (albeit 'virtually' in some cases) our lives, the people we choose. Within my own extended family there are half-people, step-people, adopted people. There are marriages, divorces, second marriages, and cohabitees. There are 'aunties' and 'uncles'. There are straight people and gay people. There are Canadian, French, Monagesque, German and English/Welsh people. I celebrate this diversity, and reject the notion of an 'ideal'. I guess that on a significant plank of Conservative Party policy, I fall well outside the boundaries of their core support.
Nationalism
It is usually the case that conservative people feel and express a sense of national pride. In the context of a world of nation states, this national pride often expresses itself as nationalism (pledging allegiance to the flag, singing Rule Britannia or La Marseillaise) or nationalistic aspirations (the separatist/secessionist agendas of the Scottish National Party [Scotland], the Vlaams Blok/Belang [Flanders], Lega Nord [northern Italy]).
More liberal people, on the other hand, appear typically at least more skeptical about, and often even hostile towards, expressions of nationalism. In the UK at least, liberal views and politics are more likely to be associated with internationalism and expressions of support for supranational organisations such as the United Nations, the European Union, the European Court of Justice, the Council of Europe, the European Court of Human Rights. In Israel, as I understand it, the conservative people are keen to strengthen the borders they have delineated, whereas the more liberal people tend to look towards dialogue with the Palestinians and neighbouring states (although I am sure that the situation is much more complex than I am suggesting here). In the United States, as presented on news and current affairs programmes on television and the radio in the UK, the 'Neo-Cons' do not trust the United Nations, dislike the idea of US military personnel being tried in an international court, and appear to be indifferent about the effect of the US economy on global warming and climate change (that is impacting on the entire world); whereas "Since leaving office, Clinton has been involved in public speaking and humanitarian work. He created the William J. Clinton Foundation to promote and address international causes, such as treatment and prevention of HIV/AIDS and global warming." (Wikipedia: Bill Clinton), and Al Gore has become internationally famous for the high profile movie he presented against cavalier industrialisation at the expense of the world's climate An Inconvenient Truth.
... (to be continued)
Immigration
Conservative people typically have such a strong sense of belonging to a land that they usually appear to believe they have a right to exclude others. It is not hard to find conservative people talking about 'foreigners' who 'take our jobs and houses', and call for elected representatives to enact exclusionist immigration policies. Although at the extreme end of conservatism racist and xenophobic sentiments are easy to encounter, such attitudes do not characterise conservatism, which instead typically prefers that people 'live where they belong'. When conservative people have gone to live in a different country it has traditionally been as colonial superiors. Of the 270,000 'Brits' (hideous term) who live in Spain (as of January 2006), many make little attempt to integrate far into Spanish culture, perhaps not even learning more than the basics of the language, but instead choose to live in British enclaves in Alicante, Malaga, Murcia and Almeria, with their shops retailing British brands.
Liberal people, in contrast, tend to thrive in diverse, multi-cultural, multi-ethnic environments, grasp the necessity, for themselves and others, of economic transhumance, migration and emigration, recognise the necessity of accepting refugees and asylum seekers into more stable society, and value the resulting infusion of cultural energy.
Law and Order
Conservative people typically believe that there has been a decline in moral values leading to tensions in society - views expressed eloquently in the UK during the 18th (e.g. Hogarth), 19th (Victorians), 20th (the courtroom trial of Lady Chatterly's Lover, Mary Whitehouse, 'Back to Basics' [a Conservative Party campaign]) and now 21st centuries. A decline over the past three centuries should now have us in hell! Which, of course, is the picture that the conservative UK press would have us believe. For conservative people, the remedy is that there should be more police officers to enforce civil order and that punishment for transgression of civil order should be more severe (e.g. Conservative Party 'Short Sharp Shock' policy).
Liberal people tend to desire the liberalisation of society and its values so that fewer people are seen as being close to, at, or beyond the margins. The Liberal reforms of the early 20th century, under Campbell-Bannerman and Lloyd George (the foundations of the welfare state in the UK), and the introduction by Leo Abse (Labour) in 1967 of legislation to decriminalise homosexual acts between consenting men, are examples of this liberalisation. During the 1992 Labour Party conference, Tony Blair attempted to appeal to both the liberal and conservative wings of potential Labour Party voters by using the slogan "Tough on crime, tough on the causes of crime" Liberal people are more likely to be interested in restorative, rather than retributive, justice, and are more likely to recognise the faults of imprisonment.
Money, wealth and property
That there is a divide between conservative and liberal people regarding attitudes towards money, wealth and property appears to be both self-evident and complex. The much misquoted biblical aphorism that the love of money is the root of all evil might offer a signpost. It is hard to imagine that many of the people who work in the upper levels of the banking, insurance and finance sectors of the City of London, or hew at the rockface of the Manhattan "goldmines", celebrate the same socio-economic analysis as the Joseph Rowntree Foundation. Examining the Times 'rich list' for 2006 regarding personal donations to political parties, of the top 31 most generous donors, 24 donated to the Conservative Party (approximately £7,000,000), 5 donated to the Labour Party (£1,455,000), 1 donated to the Liberal Democrats (£129,798), and 1 donated to the Scottish National Party (£100,000). The list also shows loans to political parties - Conservatives: £12,650,000; Labour £7,800,000. From these figures it is easy to conclude that the people with a considerable amount of money are more likely to donate some of it in support of Conservative/conservative values.
Monarchy, aristocracy, nobility, honours and hierarchy
Conservative people in the UK tend to be in favour of the British monarchy, whereas liberal people are less predictable about the extent to which they take an interest in and support the British monarchy. I have been a lifelong republican (not in the US sense of Republican), and dislike any attention being given to the Windsor family or the ceremonial roles carried out by an hereditary head of state. Several countries (Ireland, Germany, Greece and Israel) manage to elect a non-executive head of state, just as all UK universities manage to appoint a Chancellor.
Titles and hereditary peerages belong to a world of long ago. Although still important in the seventeenth century, the world of being born into a social station in life was already starting to dissolve, in part hurried along by the Civil War, but also ironically by the enclosures, which moved farm hands off the traditional pastures, and into the more egalitarian towns and cities. Whilst it is still required that commoners bow/curtsy to the aristocracy, about which conservative people are likely to be happy, compared to 350 years ago, Britain is a much more egalitarian country, about which liberal people are likely to be happy.
Relation to land
... (to be continued)
Phenomenology
As a counsellor, I recognise that everyone constructs their world, the world, in their own, unique way. I do not believe that there is a correct way to understand the world. I am happy to admit that there are more and less functional ways to understand the world. For example, to believe that the moon is made of cheese may be imaginative, but is probably inaccurate. If, like Wallace and Grommit, one were to visit the moon in the hope of finding hunks of Wensleydale cheese lying around, the chances of coming away disappointed are high. I believe that many people are ignorant about many aspects of the world about which they hold views, and just as many people make only pitiable attempts (if any) to find out the facts. In this sense, therefore, the uniqueness of their construct is based on ignorance and prejudice. However, even were this not the case, every person would still have a different life story, a different set of experiences, a different collection of interests, giving them a different way of describing the world: a childless couple who are career-focused is likely to describe the world differently from a single-mother with five children; a white, male, middle-aged Surrey stockbroker is likely to describe the world differently from a young North African woman living in the banlieux of Paris; a dairy farmer in New Hampshire is likely to describe the world differently from a personal escort in Tokyo. As a counsellor, I would be unable to make a value judgment about the relative superiority of any description of the world. I believe that this position marks me out as liberal. To me, a conservative person is someone who considers either that there is a correct view of the world, or considers that their own view of the world has greater validity than the views of other people.
Family
In the UK, the Conservative Party identifies itself as party that upholds family values. What this position refers to, however, is a narrow view of family: a man, married to a woman, with a number of children born within that marriage. Ideally there will also be grandparents, uncles and aunts, cousins and nieces in an extended family. There is something very 'blood' about this. There is also an 'ideal', from which many depart.
I am not an uncritical fan of the family. My family of origin fitted this narrow, 'ideal', view, and was dysfunctional and abusive. Dysfunctionality and abuse are also significant aspects of the family experience of many people who I have counselled. I have a preference for a Lilo and Stitch view of family: "Family means nobody gets left behind" even when the family consists of two sisters and an alien. For me, family consists of the people we live amongst, the people who frequent (albeit 'virtually' in some cases) our lives, the people we choose. Within my own extended family there are half-people, step-people, adopted people. There are marriages, divorces, second marriages, and cohabitees. There are 'aunties' and 'uncles'. There are straight people and gay people. There are Canadian, French, Monagesque, German and English/Welsh people. I celebrate this diversity, and reject the notion of an 'ideal'. I guess that on a significant plank of Conservative Party policy, I fall well outside the boundaries of their core support.
Nationalism
It is usually the case that conservative people feel and express a sense of national pride. In the context of a world of nation states, this national pride often expresses itself as nationalism (pledging allegiance to the flag, singing Rule Britannia or La Marseillaise) or nationalistic aspirations (the separatist/secessionist agendas of the Scottish National Party [Scotland], the Vlaams Blok/Belang [Flanders], Lega Nord [northern Italy]).
More liberal people, on the other hand, appear typically at least more skeptical about, and often even hostile towards, expressions of nationalism. In the UK at least, liberal views and politics are more likely to be associated with internationalism and expressions of support for supranational organisations such as the United Nations, the European Union, the European Court of Justice, the Council of Europe, the European Court of Human Rights. In Israel, as I understand it, the conservative people are keen to strengthen the borders they have delineated, whereas the more liberal people tend to look towards dialogue with the Palestinians and neighbouring states (although I am sure that the situation is much more complex than I am suggesting here). In the United States, as presented on news and current affairs programmes on television and the radio in the UK, the 'Neo-Cons' do not trust the United Nations, dislike the idea of US military personnel being tried in an international court, and appear to be indifferent about the effect of the US economy on global warming and climate change (that is impacting on the entire world); whereas "Since leaving office, Clinton has been involved in public speaking and humanitarian work. He created the William J. Clinton Foundation to promote and address international causes, such as treatment and prevention of HIV/AIDS and global warming." (Wikipedia: Bill Clinton), and Al Gore has become internationally famous for the high profile movie he presented against cavalier industrialisation at the expense of the world's climate An Inconvenient Truth.
... (to be continued)
Immigration
Conservative people typically have such a strong sense of belonging to a land that they usually appear to believe they have a right to exclude others. It is not hard to find conservative people talking about 'foreigners' who 'take our jobs and houses', and call for elected representatives to enact exclusionist immigration policies. Although at the extreme end of conservatism racist and xenophobic sentiments are easy to encounter, such attitudes do not characterise conservatism, which instead typically prefers that people 'live where they belong'. When conservative people have gone to live in a different country it has traditionally been as colonial superiors. Of the 270,000 'Brits' (hideous term) who live in Spain (as of January 2006), many make little attempt to integrate far into Spanish culture, perhaps not even learning more than the basics of the language, but instead choose to live in British enclaves in Alicante, Malaga, Murcia and Almeria, with their shops retailing British brands.
Liberal people, in contrast, tend to thrive in diverse, multi-cultural, multi-ethnic environments, grasp the necessity, for themselves and others, of economic transhumance, migration and emigration, recognise the necessity of accepting refugees and asylum seekers into more stable society, and value the resulting infusion of cultural energy.
Law and Order
Conservative people typically believe that there has been a decline in moral values leading to tensions in society - views expressed eloquently in the UK during the 18th (e.g. Hogarth), 19th (Victorians), 20th (the courtroom trial of Lady Chatterly's Lover, Mary Whitehouse, 'Back to Basics' [a Conservative Party campaign]) and now 21st centuries. A decline over the past three centuries should now have us in hell! Which, of course, is the picture that the conservative UK press would have us believe. For conservative people, the remedy is that there should be more police officers to enforce civil order and that punishment for transgression of civil order should be more severe (e.g. Conservative Party 'Short Sharp Shock' policy).
Liberal people tend to desire the liberalisation of society and its values so that fewer people are seen as being close to, at, or beyond the margins. The Liberal reforms of the early 20th century, under Campbell-Bannerman and Lloyd George (the foundations of the welfare state in the UK), and the introduction by Leo Abse (Labour) in 1967 of legislation to decriminalise homosexual acts between consenting men, are examples of this liberalisation. During the 1992 Labour Party conference, Tony Blair attempted to appeal to both the liberal and conservative wings of potential Labour Party voters by using the slogan "Tough on crime, tough on the causes of crime" Liberal people are more likely to be interested in restorative, rather than retributive, justice, and are more likely to recognise the faults of imprisonment.
Money, wealth and property
That there is a divide between conservative and liberal people regarding attitudes towards money, wealth and property appears to be both self-evident and complex. The much misquoted biblical aphorism that the love of money is the root of all evil might offer a signpost. It is hard to imagine that many of the people who work in the upper levels of the banking, insurance and finance sectors of the City of London, or hew at the rockface of the Manhattan "goldmines", celebrate the same socio-economic analysis as the Joseph Rowntree Foundation. Examining the Times 'rich list' for 2006 regarding personal donations to political parties, of the top 31 most generous donors, 24 donated to the Conservative Party (approximately £7,000,000), 5 donated to the Labour Party (£1,455,000), 1 donated to the Liberal Democrats (£129,798), and 1 donated to the Scottish National Party (£100,000). The list also shows loans to political parties - Conservatives: £12,650,000; Labour £7,800,000. From these figures it is easy to conclude that the people with a considerable amount of money are more likely to donate some of it in support of Conservative/conservative values.
Monarchy, aristocracy, nobility, honours and hierarchy
Conservative people in the UK tend to be in favour of the British monarchy, whereas liberal people are less predictable about the extent to which they take an interest in and support the British monarchy. I have been a lifelong republican (not in the US sense of Republican), and dislike any attention being given to the Windsor family or the ceremonial roles carried out by an hereditary head of state. Several countries (Ireland, Germany, Greece and Israel) manage to elect a non-executive head of state, just as all UK universities manage to appoint a Chancellor.
Titles and hereditary peerages belong to a world of long ago. Although still important in the seventeenth century, the world of being born into a social station in life was already starting to dissolve, in part hurried along by the Civil War, but also ironically by the enclosures, which moved farm hands off the traditional pastures, and into the more egalitarian towns and cities. Whilst it is still required that commoners bow/curtsy to the aristocracy, about which conservative people are likely to be happy, compared to 350 years ago, Britain is a much more egalitarian country, about which liberal people are likely to be happy.
Relation to land
... (to be continued)
17 February 2008
Gambling and share trading
I do not own company shares. I have never owned company shares. I have no wish to own company shares.
During my teenage years I was enthusiastic for all commerce to be managed by the people for the benefit of the people. I applauded when companies were taken into state ownership, and felt betrayed when state-owned industries were thrown into the ravening maws of fat-cat capitalists: British Gas ("Tell Sid") and British Telecom ("It's good to talk") ("Phone home" was from E.T.). During my twenties I realised a) that state-owned businesses were not as wonderful for their workforce as I had imagined (television images of grateful coal miners in 1947 when the National Coal Board took over the running of coal mines in the UK; of beaming nurses and relieved patients when in 1948 the National Health Service took over the running of hospitals, clinics and surgeries in the UK); b) that some companies could be ethical in their practice, for example Anita Roddick's The Body Shop; c) that there were better, less-hierarchical models for the structure of a business, such as charities, trusts (for example, The Guardian newspaper), collectives and co-operatives (such as Scott-Bader). I liked the idea of businesses being run by the workers for the benefit of the workers. I became a member of a co-operative (Earthcare, in Durham, UK), and was instrumental in forming a collective (Dragon Wholefoods Collective). I was also heavily involved with all manner of charitable / not-for-profit activities, projects and ventures (such as Durham City Centre Youth Project, outreach, chaplaincy). My CV from that time runs to pages. However, it was often my experience that I wanted to give greater commitment to these activities than many of the other people involved. In my late twenties, therefore, with many misgivings, I set up my own small business: Alpha Word Power. After a while, I began to employ people, initially part-time, and then full-time as well. It seemed that I was betraying my teenage roots. However, I never owned any company shares. While Margaret Thatcher's cellphone-toting, greed-motivated yuppies made their millions on the London stock exchange, I believed that share-ownership was immoral, that it was wrong. What I objected to fundamentally, and I also had further objections, was the idea that owning sufficient company shares gave someone the right dictate strategic policy. I have, to a small extent mellowed from this position. For example, I recognise the all-round benefit of John Lewis staff owning shares in the company for which they work [note to myself: this is not accurate - the business is technically a co-operative that is held in trust, all employees are Partners, have a substantive voice in the running of the business, and receive an annual bonus proportionate to their salary]. I believe that Google does the same. I am still on board, although rather less comfortable, with the idea of buying and owning shares in small, ecological ventures, for example building wind turbines and the like. To my way of thinking this really amounts to giving money to a cause in which one believes, with little expectation of the money being returned. The line gets crossed where the money is invested to make a profit. I can understand why it needs to happen: why businesses need capital, and people (and other businesses) with money are willing to buy shares. When I think of the money as a loan, then I can cope. However, when I think about people buying shares in order to profit from riding on the backs of the people who do the work (shop floor workers and managers) then I know that share ownership is immoral. However, it gets worse. As I understand it, much share trading is speculative about the price of the shares. When profiting from changes to the value of shares becomes the main purpose of share trading then it seems obvious to me that the plot has been lost. To me, this kind of financial speculation is little, if at all, different from gambling, and is therefore immoral.
During my teenage years I was enthusiastic for all commerce to be managed by the people for the benefit of the people. I applauded when companies were taken into state ownership, and felt betrayed when state-owned industries were thrown into the ravening maws of fat-cat capitalists: British Gas ("Tell Sid") and British Telecom ("It's good to talk") ("Phone home" was from E.T.). During my twenties I realised a) that state-owned businesses were not as wonderful for their workforce as I had imagined (television images of grateful coal miners in 1947 when the National Coal Board took over the running of coal mines in the UK; of beaming nurses and relieved patients when in 1948 the National Health Service took over the running of hospitals, clinics and surgeries in the UK); b) that some companies could be ethical in their practice, for example Anita Roddick's The Body Shop; c) that there were better, less-hierarchical models for the structure of a business, such as charities, trusts (for example, The Guardian newspaper), collectives and co-operatives (such as Scott-Bader). I liked the idea of businesses being run by the workers for the benefit of the workers. I became a member of a co-operative (Earthcare, in Durham, UK), and was instrumental in forming a collective (Dragon Wholefoods Collective). I was also heavily involved with all manner of charitable / not-for-profit activities, projects and ventures (such as Durham City Centre Youth Project, outreach, chaplaincy). My CV from that time runs to pages. However, it was often my experience that I wanted to give greater commitment to these activities than many of the other people involved. In my late twenties, therefore, with many misgivings, I set up my own small business: Alpha Word Power. After a while, I began to employ people, initially part-time, and then full-time as well. It seemed that I was betraying my teenage roots. However, I never owned any company shares. While Margaret Thatcher's cellphone-toting, greed-motivated yuppies made their millions on the London stock exchange, I believed that share-ownership was immoral, that it was wrong. What I objected to fundamentally, and I also had further objections, was the idea that owning sufficient company shares gave someone the right dictate strategic policy. I have, to a small extent mellowed from this position. For example, I recognise the all-round benefit of John Lewis staff owning shares in the company for which they work [note to myself: this is not accurate - the business is technically a co-operative that is held in trust, all employees are Partners, have a substantive voice in the running of the business, and receive an annual bonus proportionate to their salary]. I believe that Google does the same. I am still on board, although rather less comfortable, with the idea of buying and owning shares in small, ecological ventures, for example building wind turbines and the like. To my way of thinking this really amounts to giving money to a cause in which one believes, with little expectation of the money being returned. The line gets crossed where the money is invested to make a profit. I can understand why it needs to happen: why businesses need capital, and people (and other businesses) with money are willing to buy shares. When I think of the money as a loan, then I can cope. However, when I think about people buying shares in order to profit from riding on the backs of the people who do the work (shop floor workers and managers) then I know that share ownership is immoral. However, it gets worse. As I understand it, much share trading is speculative about the price of the shares. When profiting from changes to the value of shares becomes the main purpose of share trading then it seems obvious to me that the plot has been lost. To me, this kind of financial speculation is little, if at all, different from gambling, and is therefore immoral.
16 February 2008
Gaming and gambling
Gaming gambling, like buying sex, is immoral. Since childhood, I have believed gaming gambling to be immoral. In the early 1980s I formally opposed the Betting, Gaming and Lotteries (Amendment) Act 1984 that was enacted by the Conservative government under Margaret Thatcher to liberalise laws around gambling in the UK. I wrote to each member of the parliamentary Committee, chaired by Sir Ian Gilmour, expressing my unhappiness with the proposed legislation. Clement Freud, a Liberal MP who was a member of the committee, referred to me and people like me as "killjoys" (see Hansard).
During my teens I became aware that some poor, working class men would gamble away their wages, further impoverishing wife and children, sometimes condemning the entire family to a life of destitution. More recently I learned that some poor, working class women (for example in Sunderland) would feed the entire week's housekeeping money into gambling machines, getting themselves into debt and becoming prey to loan sharks. In using the word 'some', I do not know how many people, nor how widespread these behaviours are. However, I do know that gambling in the UK is so widespread that it is practically universal, and debt (resulting from consumption and gambling) in the UK currently exceeds GDP. (One of the features of writing weblog postings about issues that concern me is that I confront myself to produce evidence that supports or refutes my beliefs.) Online gambling (poker, for example) appears to be huge. In June 2005: "According to research group Forrester, 76% of the UK's 29 million adult internet users admit to regularly placing a bet either online or offline."
I have always considered succumbing to gaming gambling as evidence of personal weakness, making innocent people vulnerable to scams (the medieval 'three-cup trick'), confidence tricks ('get-rich-quick' schemes)and dishonesty (The Sting). When I was a child I felt disgusted when I learned that gambling machines and casinos pay out less than they receive. I considered their behaviour unfair, because I did not understand that they are businesses. When I was a child, I became gently enthralled both by the idea of 'breaking the bank' (restorative justice) and by the masculine courage of James Bond at the roulette wheel. (On a recent flight from Narita to Schipol I watched the Daniel Craig outing of a James Bond movie, and could not resolve the conflict for me that a character who is supposed to be the ultimate in 'cool' should behave in so pathetic a manner as to have to gamble on the gaming tables.)
In full respect of confidentiality, I can state clearly that there are many people in the UK who have a gambling addiction, and that this addiction, effectively indistinguishable from a chemical addiction, has been extremely problematic in their lives. I have met such people.
Of course gaming is business: it is part of the entertainment industry, as evidenced by the plethora of gaming shows on television. The gambling aspect of gaming has also attracted organised crime (e.g. Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels) and shows gaming, like drugs- and people-trafficking, to be a lucrative, but also unsavoury and seedy business. I do not know what proportion of gaming / gambling in the UK is infected with organised crime, and I may well be guilty of watching too many movies. I imagine that only a small proportion is significantly criminal; that a somewhat larger proportion, whilst legal, has criminal links / associations; and that much of what remains is legal, but may either be tainted or at risk. I believe that most people in the UK who gamble fail to, or refuse to, consider and address this issue; whereas for some the possibility of links to organised crime may add an attractive frisson.
I do not respect the motivation or activity of seeking to acquire wealth without earning it. This places gambling very close to robbery and theft, although in the case of gambling, each party is trying to rob the other. I confess to a strong Protestant work ethic. (When my father died it did not concern me that he left me nothing in his will. In contrast, I am challenged by the fact that my daughter will have little if any opportunity to earn her way through life, and will be dependent on whatever my wife and I can leave her when we die.)
Gaming positions itself within the entertainment industry, and I find it hard to respect resources being spent on activities that make no attempt to improve the world. I also find it challenging to respect money being spent on activities that make no attempt to improve the sum total of happiness in the world, and gaming creates many more losers than winners. This sets gambling in the same category as the military-industrial complex. Gaming is far from the worthy activities of education, scientific exploration, health research, health (physical, mental, emotional) support, charitable giving, economic development (whether in the the economically-developed or -developing world), environmental improvement, and artisitic and cultural expression.
I do not respect games of chance. The UK national obsession with horse racing, and the local enthusiasm for greyhound racing, are not only perversions in their exploitation of animals, but socially-accepted excuses for people to avoid working, looking after their families, and helping to improve the world. When I was a child, millions of people in the UK gambled every week on the outcomes of football (soccer) matches. The national lottery (begun under the Thatcher government) has to a significant extent replaced the 'football pools'. An effect of this has been that charitable giving by individuals in the UK has declined. (I shall check the figures.)
In 1979/80 I lived in Coxhoe, County Durham, UK. I was told by local people about how, during the 1920s and 1930s, large gatherings would be held for illegal gambling in West Cornforth woods, only a handful of miles from where I now live. Children would be posted at the edge of the wood to warn of any approach by the police ('polliss'). Only a mile from where I live are the remains of a grandstand that was built in the 1920s for a horse-racing track. The racing track was closed at the outbreak of the second world war, and the grandstand fell into disrepair. In the local pubs it used to be, and still is for all I know, a commonplace that a large platter of uncooked cuts of dead animals would be raffled. In Quarrington Hill, a village close to Coxhoe, the police raided a regular dog-fighting match. Every village around here has at least a little brick bookmaker's cabin. I have met local people (men) who are private bookmakers - taking bets on all manner of events. A short series of formal presentations, exploring some serious staff-focused activities at the university where I work, had to have a raffle that was drawn at the close of the event. At my daughter's school open day they have a tombola. How many times have I heard "I like to have a little flutter" - on the Derby, on the Grand National, on the pools, on the lottery, on the Thunderball - as though provided they do only a little bit of gambling it is respectable. Like some sap-poison in a tree, gambling seems to infect every vein of British society. However, the poison spreads far beyond the UK. News programmes often report match-fixing allegations in relation to one sport or another around the world. In Tokyo and Kyoto, I saw huge, barn-like shops, 'pachinko parlours', with seried ranks of glaze-faced men and women feeding ball bearings into machines, as though characters from Fritz Lang's Metropolis. When I eventually get to holiday in Arizona, in order to see the Grand Canyon, I shall fly in to Phoenix even though it would be cheaper and easier to fly in to Las Vegas, where, as CSI shows, there are gaming tables and gambling machines as far as the eye can see: a vision of hell that so many delude themselves into believing is a vision of heaven.
Why do people gamble? As evidenced by what I have written above, the answer I see most obviously is that a person hopes to gain from a gambling transaction. However, there are also many other answers. For some, the gambling in which they indulge is about the social activity, whether being seen in their flamboyant hats at Ascot horse-racing track, or dibbing numbers with their sisters and aunties at the local bingo hall. For others, it is about self-indulgence, and they will put five pounds, or fifty euros, or five hundred dollars, in their pocket for an evening's entertainment at the casino, amusement arcade or pachinko parlour - they hope that the money does not run out too quickly. For yet others it is about distraction, either from a demanding job or from problems that are difficult to resolve. For some it is about seeking self-esteem by trouncing other people - the so-called 'competitive spirit'. For others it is about thrill seeking - they enjoy the risk: it is almost that they enjoy losing a game because it heightens the tension for the next game. Perhaps these latter are the people who are also at risk of developing a gambling addiction. For many, their engagement in gambling is probably a response to some combination of each of the above. For each, however, gambling has meaning in their life. Remove gambling from the lives of most people, and their lives become impoverished to the extent of the meaning of gambling to them. This is why it can be so hard for a person with a gambling addiction, for whom gambling has come to mean more than almost anything else in their life, to relinquish the activity.
During my teens I became aware that some poor, working class men would gamble away their wages, further impoverishing wife and children, sometimes condemning the entire family to a life of destitution. More recently I learned that some poor, working class women (for example in Sunderland) would feed the entire week's housekeeping money into gambling machines, getting themselves into debt and becoming prey to loan sharks. In using the word 'some', I do not know how many people, nor how widespread these behaviours are. However, I do know that gambling in the UK is so widespread that it is practically universal, and debt (resulting from consumption and gambling) in the UK currently exceeds GDP. (One of the features of writing weblog postings about issues that concern me is that I confront myself to produce evidence that supports or refutes my beliefs.) Online gambling (poker, for example) appears to be huge. In June 2005: "According to research group Forrester, 76% of the UK's 29 million adult internet users admit to regularly placing a bet either online or offline."
I have always considered succumbing to gaming gambling as evidence of personal weakness, making innocent people vulnerable to scams (the medieval 'three-cup trick'), confidence tricks ('get-rich-quick' schemes)and dishonesty (The Sting). When I was a child I felt disgusted when I learned that gambling machines and casinos pay out less than they receive. I considered their behaviour unfair, because I did not understand that they are businesses. When I was a child, I became gently enthralled both by the idea of 'breaking the bank' (restorative justice) and by the masculine courage of James Bond at the roulette wheel. (On a recent flight from Narita to Schipol I watched the Daniel Craig outing of a James Bond movie, and could not resolve the conflict for me that a character who is supposed to be the ultimate in 'cool' should behave in so pathetic a manner as to have to gamble on the gaming tables.)
In full respect of confidentiality, I can state clearly that there are many people in the UK who have a gambling addiction, and that this addiction, effectively indistinguishable from a chemical addiction, has been extremely problematic in their lives. I have met such people.
Of course gaming is business: it is part of the entertainment industry, as evidenced by the plethora of gaming shows on television. The gambling aspect of gaming has also attracted organised crime (e.g. Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels) and shows gaming, like drugs- and people-trafficking, to be a lucrative, but also unsavoury and seedy business. I do not know what proportion of gaming / gambling in the UK is infected with organised crime, and I may well be guilty of watching too many movies. I imagine that only a small proportion is significantly criminal; that a somewhat larger proportion, whilst legal, has criminal links / associations; and that much of what remains is legal, but may either be tainted or at risk. I believe that most people in the UK who gamble fail to, or refuse to, consider and address this issue; whereas for some the possibility of links to organised crime may add an attractive frisson.
I do not respect the motivation or activity of seeking to acquire wealth without earning it. This places gambling very close to robbery and theft, although in the case of gambling, each party is trying to rob the other. I confess to a strong Protestant work ethic. (When my father died it did not concern me that he left me nothing in his will. In contrast, I am challenged by the fact that my daughter will have little if any opportunity to earn her way through life, and will be dependent on whatever my wife and I can leave her when we die.)
Gaming positions itself within the entertainment industry, and I find it hard to respect resources being spent on activities that make no attempt to improve the world. I also find it challenging to respect money being spent on activities that make no attempt to improve the sum total of happiness in the world, and gaming creates many more losers than winners. This sets gambling in the same category as the military-industrial complex. Gaming is far from the worthy activities of education, scientific exploration, health research, health (physical, mental, emotional) support, charitable giving, economic development (whether in the the economically-developed or -developing world), environmental improvement, and artisitic and cultural expression.
I do not respect games of chance. The UK national obsession with horse racing, and the local enthusiasm for greyhound racing, are not only perversions in their exploitation of animals, but socially-accepted excuses for people to avoid working, looking after their families, and helping to improve the world. When I was a child, millions of people in the UK gambled every week on the outcomes of football (soccer) matches. The national lottery (begun under the Thatcher government) has to a significant extent replaced the 'football pools'. An effect of this has been that charitable giving by individuals in the UK has declined. (I shall check the figures.)
In 1979/80 I lived in Coxhoe, County Durham, UK. I was told by local people about how, during the 1920s and 1930s, large gatherings would be held for illegal gambling in West Cornforth woods, only a handful of miles from where I now live. Children would be posted at the edge of the wood to warn of any approach by the police ('polliss'). Only a mile from where I live are the remains of a grandstand that was built in the 1920s for a horse-racing track. The racing track was closed at the outbreak of the second world war, and the grandstand fell into disrepair. In the local pubs it used to be, and still is for all I know, a commonplace that a large platter of uncooked cuts of dead animals would be raffled. In Quarrington Hill, a village close to Coxhoe, the police raided a regular dog-fighting match. Every village around here has at least a little brick bookmaker's cabin. I have met local people (men) who are private bookmakers - taking bets on all manner of events. A short series of formal presentations, exploring some serious staff-focused activities at the university where I work, had to have a raffle that was drawn at the close of the event. At my daughter's school open day they have a tombola. How many times have I heard "I like to have a little flutter" - on the Derby, on the Grand National, on the pools, on the lottery, on the Thunderball - as though provided they do only a little bit of gambling it is respectable. Like some sap-poison in a tree, gambling seems to infect every vein of British society. However, the poison spreads far beyond the UK. News programmes often report match-fixing allegations in relation to one sport or another around the world. In Tokyo and Kyoto, I saw huge, barn-like shops, 'pachinko parlours', with seried ranks of glaze-faced men and women feeding ball bearings into machines, as though characters from Fritz Lang's Metropolis. When I eventually get to holiday in Arizona, in order to see the Grand Canyon, I shall fly in to Phoenix even though it would be cheaper and easier to fly in to Las Vegas, where, as CSI shows, there are gaming tables and gambling machines as far as the eye can see: a vision of hell that so many delude themselves into believing is a vision of heaven.
Why do people gamble? As evidenced by what I have written above, the answer I see most obviously is that a person hopes to gain from a gambling transaction. However, there are also many other answers. For some, the gambling in which they indulge is about the social activity, whether being seen in their flamboyant hats at Ascot horse-racing track, or dibbing numbers with their sisters and aunties at the local bingo hall. For others, it is about self-indulgence, and they will put five pounds, or fifty euros, or five hundred dollars, in their pocket for an evening's entertainment at the casino, amusement arcade or pachinko parlour - they hope that the money does not run out too quickly. For yet others it is about distraction, either from a demanding job or from problems that are difficult to resolve. For some it is about seeking self-esteem by trouncing other people - the so-called 'competitive spirit'. For others it is about thrill seeking - they enjoy the risk: it is almost that they enjoy losing a game because it heightens the tension for the next game. Perhaps these latter are the people who are also at risk of developing a gambling addiction. For many, their engagement in gambling is probably a response to some combination of each of the above. For each, however, gambling has meaning in their life. Remove gambling from the lives of most people, and their lives become impoverished to the extent of the meaning of gambling to them. This is why it can be so hard for a person with a gambling addiction, for whom gambling has come to mean more than almost anything else in their life, to relinquish the activity.
02 January 2008
The Fragile Encounter
I have been developing material about fragile encounter. This material can be found on my Subceptions weblog at:
http://myblogs.sunderland.ac.uk/blogs/blog-259/2007/11/the_fragile_encounter.html
http://myblogs.sunderland.ac.uk/blogs/blog-259/2007/11/the_fragile_encounter.html
01 January 2008
Green: my new website
For some months I was writing about green issues in my weblog postings: articles that attempted to define my position. In wishing to make more of what I have written, I have moved the postings onto a sole-issue website called Green. The material remains at an early stage of development, and awaits further editing and extending.
31 December 2007
31 December 2007: My weight
My weight, now 89 kg, has remained fixed in the high eighties (84-90 kg). Since my detox nearly three years ago I have abstained from alcohol, and from snacks. I have also taken to walking longer distances more frequently: five or six miles three of four times each week, as well as shorter distances on most other days. I find it demoralising that, with one exception period, my weight did not continue to fall. Over two and a half weeks in Japan, my weight fell by six kilos. Due to extreme difficulty in locating vegan food, I was close to fasting for several days at a time, mostly eating only a little fruit, grabbing a meal only every couple of days. I went to Japan with high expectations of eating well: noodles, tofu, miso soup, seaweed, and sushi brushed with wasabi. Although my intention had not been to lose weight, my weight fell to 84 kg. However, the ratio of gain to pain was appalling. We were walking for miles through the streets of Tokyo, Kyoto and Nara. The heat was terrific: 38 degrees Celsius most days. By the time we arrived home I was physically run down. It was not a good way to lose weight. To add insult to injury, most of the weight came back quickly.
31 December 2007: Weblog Review
31 December 2007: Weblog Review
With only six weeks before this weblog is thee years old, I have many observations. Most obviously, I have maintained writing the weblog. Sometimes I have written only once in a few months. On other occasions I have written more than one posting each day. This accords with writing my personal journal. I imagined that writing this weblog would reduce the frequency at which I wrote personal journal entries. However, the reverse seems to be true, the more I write, the more there is to write. To be precise, the more I write, the more things I notice that I consider to be worth writing about. This dated postscript also points to some processes I have chosen to adopt: to add postscripts to existing postings; to amend and augment existing postings, improving and enriching them conceptually and in terms of their language; to publish unfinished postings, leaving them in the public domain until I am ready to finish them; the dates of publication do not necessarily reflect the dates of entries. I recognise that these processes move this weblog towards being a website, about which I feel reasonably comfortable. I am also comfortable about moving particular postings, once they are sufficiently complete, onto my website, for example regarding the use of politically correct language. A much larger topic that I have been developing in this weblog, about Green issues, is in the slow process of being moved onto a website of its own. This point also highlights that I have started three other weblogs: a family weblog (Sound Signs) to which Janet and Jemima also make occasional contributions; a University-based professional counselling weblog (Subceptions); and a much more edgy scratchpad for nascent ideas, a weblog that I keep private. The project, involving four weblogs and three websites (I also manage a sizable website about counselling for the University) is, in all probability, about creating an essay base. (I am a Commonwealth pamphleteer three and a half centuries too late.) Unlike in my personal journal, in which I write carefully but not self-consciously, here in these weblogs I am aware of how my writing may be understood or misunderstood. I do not value having to be online to make a posting, not only because getting online is not always easy, but also preferring the spontaneity of pen and paper. On the other hand, I like that what I write is saved in electronic format, and consequently is available to all the advantages open to electronic text.When I started this weblog I had already rejected the abbreviation 'blog'. My dislike for the abbreviation has deepened: whoever coined the word would appear to have an undeveloped auditory appreciation of the English language: block, bloke, blob, blot, bodge, bog, log, hog, blubber, plug, plod. These are not words that I would choose as auditory neighbours to a medium as versatile and dynamic as online journalling. Further, the word 'blog', as distinct from the abbreviation (it seems that few people realise that the word is an abbreviation), has no obvious relationship with anything to do with writing. I thought of several alternatives, but each already has a bona fide claim made by an alternative meaning.
A Twentieth Century man
I have several dictionaries. Working as a counsellor, words and language mean much to me. William Shakespeare is my hero: I watched my first Shakespeare play (Twelfth Night) when I was ten years old. I have four generations of Chambers dictionaries: from the 1950s (Chambers 20th Century Dictionary, recently acquired second hand), 1972 (Chambers 20th Century Dictionary, a Christmas present), 1988 (Chambers English Dictionary, my own choice) and 2003 (Chambers Dictionary, also my own choice). I prefer Chambers because its definitions tend to be more liberal-minded, less conservative, less reactionary than other dictionaries. However, I have an extreme objection to Chambers' progressive acceptance and incorporation of the '-ize' suffix, an appendage that, in spite of my Classical education (I studied Latin for five years, Classical Greek for two years, and some years ago made a serious attempt to teach myself Biblical Greek), I consider to be affected (as in an affectation, used by someone who wishes to puff up their language, making themselves sound clever and important, like people using the word 'whilst' when they mean 'while') and/or elitist (its 'correct' use - to use it incorrectly flagrantly demonstrates 'ignorance' - is only when the word's root is from Classical Greek, and who but a Classics scholar is likely to remember which English words have a Classical Greek root?), and gratuitously unnecessary. Use of the '-ize' suffix sneers at both ignorance and dyslexia: it is anti-language. In contrast, use of the '-ise' suffix is universally applicable, and to be favoured by the proles, the hoi poloi, the sans culottes - the people who make a reality of democracy and democratic language.
I have a reverse dictionary that has been useful only very occasionally. I have a dictionary of words first used in the twentieth century. This latter, although of little practical use, is interesting. I have a much-used Roget's thesaurus, and much-less used Brewer's dictionary of phrase and fable, Brewer's concise dictionary of phrase and fable, and Brewer's twentieth century dictionary of phrase and fable. There are also the Oxford dictionary of quotations, and Oxford companions to both the English language and English literature. Beyond English alone, there are dictionaries of signing (BSL) and of other European languages. Were I to be required to shelve all these dictionaries in an attic, I should probably guess that they weighed in at about 50 kg. So why is my first port of call always the internet? Reading The Wisdom of Crowds, recently, I came across the word 'fungible'. The context in which the word was being used offered few clues about its meaning. I checked it out on the internet. As well as definitions, I read the Wikipedia entry. I felt enlightened. I then checked Chambers. The definition was clear and concise, just as I should expect. Yet had I not also read more widely, including the Wikipedia entry, my understanding would have been as thin as gravy made only with a vegetable stock cube.
The words and phrases that I use, and the thoughts that inspire my articulations, belong to the twentieth century. I was born in the middle, the heart, of the twentieth century, the century that provided the context and backdrop for everything I thought and said and did. I learned to speak and think twentieth century, and I have twentieth century preoccupations, such as a concern for technology, for communication, for identity, for democracy, for equality, for spirituality freed from the shackles of traditional religion. Whilst it could easily be shown that none of these is unique to the twentieth century, their assemblage certainly is. It is true that being born and raised in Western Europe, and in Britain in particular, I also became, and continue to become, progressively more aware of previous centuries; but this itself is the root and relativism of post-modernism, a philosophical framework that belongs to the second half of the twentieth century. Simply by being brought up in the second half of the twentieth century, without the requirement of an elite education, I have the capacity to identify with the industrial entrepreneurs of the nineteenth century, the enlightened free-thinkers of the eighteenth century, the radical Commonwealth republicans of the seventeenth century, and so on.
What of the twenty-first century? I am not sure. If the twentieth century could be characterised as a battle between the old and the new, between empire and new democracy, between generations, between the sexes, between enforced adherence to stereotype and searching for new identities, then to a large extent we won. At the start of the twenty-first century, Britain is much closer to France than to Britain at the start of the twentieth century. However, now those battles are over, apathy appears to have set in. Politicians bemoan the public's lack of interest in politics, whereas people vote in their millions for ghastly television trash such as Big Brother and the X-Factor. (Whilst Marx's aphorism about religion is widely misunderstood as a criticism of religion, when he was observing the solace that drown-trodden workers were able to find in it, his 'misquotation' could more aptly be applied to the early twenty-first century addiction to television soap operas.) People no longer appear to have much interest in raw spirituality, and the church pews tend to be occupied by people who have chosen to leave elsewhere and make Britain their home. Concern by adults and children alike for technology seems to focus on games consoles, and battles and wars that are fought look increasingly like computer games and disaster movies. Royal Mail, the UK postal delivery organisation is close to collapse because no-one writes letters any more - it is not that I am knocking e-mail, it is my sadness that the text-message culture hardly favours deep and careful thought.
What of the twenty-first century? The battles having been fought, apathy and lethargy won. I think that ordinary, everyday, twenty-first century Britain lacks a sense of direction, purpose and aspiration. Maybe that is one of the reasons I remain a twentieth century man.
I have a reverse dictionary that has been useful only very occasionally. I have a dictionary of words first used in the twentieth century. This latter, although of little practical use, is interesting. I have a much-used Roget's thesaurus, and much-less used Brewer's dictionary of phrase and fable, Brewer's concise dictionary of phrase and fable, and Brewer's twentieth century dictionary of phrase and fable. There are also the Oxford dictionary of quotations, and Oxford companions to both the English language and English literature. Beyond English alone, there are dictionaries of signing (BSL) and of other European languages. Were I to be required to shelve all these dictionaries in an attic, I should probably guess that they weighed in at about 50 kg. So why is my first port of call always the internet? Reading The Wisdom of Crowds, recently, I came across the word 'fungible'. The context in which the word was being used offered few clues about its meaning. I checked it out on the internet. As well as definitions, I read the Wikipedia entry. I felt enlightened. I then checked Chambers. The definition was clear and concise, just as I should expect. Yet had I not also read more widely, including the Wikipedia entry, my understanding would have been as thin as gravy made only with a vegetable stock cube.
The words and phrases that I use, and the thoughts that inspire my articulations, belong to the twentieth century. I was born in the middle, the heart, of the twentieth century, the century that provided the context and backdrop for everything I thought and said and did. I learned to speak and think twentieth century, and I have twentieth century preoccupations, such as a concern for technology, for communication, for identity, for democracy, for equality, for spirituality freed from the shackles of traditional religion. Whilst it could easily be shown that none of these is unique to the twentieth century, their assemblage certainly is. It is true that being born and raised in Western Europe, and in Britain in particular, I also became, and continue to become, progressively more aware of previous centuries; but this itself is the root and relativism of post-modernism, a philosophical framework that belongs to the second half of the twentieth century. Simply by being brought up in the second half of the twentieth century, without the requirement of an elite education, I have the capacity to identify with the industrial entrepreneurs of the nineteenth century, the enlightened free-thinkers of the eighteenth century, the radical Commonwealth republicans of the seventeenth century, and so on.
What of the twenty-first century? I am not sure. If the twentieth century could be characterised as a battle between the old and the new, between empire and new democracy, between generations, between the sexes, between enforced adherence to stereotype and searching for new identities, then to a large extent we won. At the start of the twenty-first century, Britain is much closer to France than to Britain at the start of the twentieth century. However, now those battles are over, apathy appears to have set in. Politicians bemoan the public's lack of interest in politics, whereas people vote in their millions for ghastly television trash such as Big Brother and the X-Factor. (Whilst Marx's aphorism about religion is widely misunderstood as a criticism of religion, when he was observing the solace that drown-trodden workers were able to find in it, his 'misquotation' could more aptly be applied to the early twenty-first century addiction to television soap operas.) People no longer appear to have much interest in raw spirituality, and the church pews tend to be occupied by people who have chosen to leave elsewhere and make Britain their home. Concern by adults and children alike for technology seems to focus on games consoles, and battles and wars that are fought look increasingly like computer games and disaster movies. Royal Mail, the UK postal delivery organisation is close to collapse because no-one writes letters any more - it is not that I am knocking e-mail, it is my sadness that the text-message culture hardly favours deep and careful thought.
What of the twenty-first century? The battles having been fought, apathy and lethargy won. I think that ordinary, everyday, twenty-first century Britain lacks a sense of direction, purpose and aspiration. Maybe that is one of the reasons I remain a twentieth century man.
30 December 2007
Spreading germs
I am in bed with a cold. Nothing more than a cold, but a miserable cold: sore throat, coughing, sneezing, headache, aching joints, lethargy, dyspraxia, poor concentration and a profound loss of charitable sentiment. It is not 'flu, and I have not been in bed all day. I have, however, felt lousy all day, and for the past few days. I have been unproductive in terms of my paid work, and have done none of the household jobs I had lined up for the Christmas / New Year break. Plans to take my family out on a trip have had to be cancelled. This cold has been 'expensive'.
I was 'given' the cold. It was passed on to me by someone who had been suffering a heavy cold. They knew they were infectious, and they did little to avoid infecting me.
On the streets of Tokyo, we saw people wearing cotton face masks. From a UK perspective one could easily assume that these people were fearful about catching an infection. However, these were people with respiratory infections who wished to avoid spreading their germs. I find their considerate behaviour easy to respect. In Britain it is not acceptable to wear a cotton face mask except in hospital. If I were to wear one to the supermarket tomorrow, I would be stared at, and it would be assumed that I was unhappy about the hygiene of the shop, its staff or its customers. At work, several weeks ago, I asked whether I might discourage counselling clients who were suffering from a heavy cold or seasonal 'flu from attending counselling, risking the counsellor being off work sick for a few days and thereby denying counselling to other clients. I was informed that it was not policy to discourage clients, infectious or otherwise, from attending counselling. I have never contracted mumps. Being the age I am, the MMR (measles, mumps and rubella) vaccination was way after my time. I am, therefore, at risk of being infected with mumps by anyone who, wittingly or otherwise, exposes me to the disease. I do not understand why it is permissible for my health to be put at risk by people who are unwilling to take responsibility for not spreading infection. (In the spring of 2007, students at Dalhousie University, in Halifax, Nova Scotia, irresponsibly spread mumps across the breadth of Canada because they knowingly ignored quarantine restrictions.) For some reason, spreading germs in the UK is not something about which one takes personal responsibility. As my counselling supervisor recently said about contracting diseases carried by clients: "It's just one of those things." I am permitted to spread almost any germs, including STDs, I wish with impunity. Although there may be some exceptions, such as typhoid and its celebrated carrier, Mary Mallon, according to a Wikipedia article on quarantine: "The last federal order of involuntary quarantine, prior to the 2007 tuberculosis scare, was issued in 1963." Of course, the one virus of which so many people in Britain are fearful to the point of discriminatory prejudice is HIV, transmission of which is largely limited to sexual contact, blood transfusions and needle-stick injuries. In contrast, earlier in the year I read the statistics about food poisoning from ready-prepared food, such as in cafes, restaurants and the chiller cabinets of shops and supermarkets: they are horrific. Many of these infections are personal hygiene related, are easily preventable, and can be fatal. The term 'caveat emptor' (let the buyer beware: the buyer takes all the risks) appears to be applied in Britain a good deal more widely than simply buying things.
Although the threat of an H5N1-based 'flu pandemic seems to have passed, at least for the time being, the level of personal danger posed by the virus would have driven many people in Britain to the extremity of wearing cotton face masks. It goes without saying that it would be the healthy who would be wearing them.
Were the situation to be different, I should prefer the social ethic to be that anyone who was infectious did, as a matter of course, whatever was necessary to prevent the spread of their infection, isolating themselves if necessary. This would inevitably involve hand-washing, and the widespread use of disinfectant hand gels. It may involve the public use of cotton face masks, like in Japan.
I was 'given' the cold. It was passed on to me by someone who had been suffering a heavy cold. They knew they were infectious, and they did little to avoid infecting me.
On the streets of Tokyo, we saw people wearing cotton face masks. From a UK perspective one could easily assume that these people were fearful about catching an infection. However, these were people with respiratory infections who wished to avoid spreading their germs. I find their considerate behaviour easy to respect. In Britain it is not acceptable to wear a cotton face mask except in hospital. If I were to wear one to the supermarket tomorrow, I would be stared at, and it would be assumed that I was unhappy about the hygiene of the shop, its staff or its customers. At work, several weeks ago, I asked whether I might discourage counselling clients who were suffering from a heavy cold or seasonal 'flu from attending counselling, risking the counsellor being off work sick for a few days and thereby denying counselling to other clients. I was informed that it was not policy to discourage clients, infectious or otherwise, from attending counselling. I have never contracted mumps. Being the age I am, the MMR (measles, mumps and rubella) vaccination was way after my time. I am, therefore, at risk of being infected with mumps by anyone who, wittingly or otherwise, exposes me to the disease. I do not understand why it is permissible for my health to be put at risk by people who are unwilling to take responsibility for not spreading infection. (In the spring of 2007, students at Dalhousie University, in Halifax, Nova Scotia, irresponsibly spread mumps across the breadth of Canada because they knowingly ignored quarantine restrictions.) For some reason, spreading germs in the UK is not something about which one takes personal responsibility. As my counselling supervisor recently said about contracting diseases carried by clients: "It's just one of those things." I am permitted to spread almost any germs, including STDs, I wish with impunity. Although there may be some exceptions, such as typhoid and its celebrated carrier, Mary Mallon, according to a Wikipedia article on quarantine: "The last federal order of involuntary quarantine, prior to the 2007 tuberculosis scare, was issued in 1963." Of course, the one virus of which so many people in Britain are fearful to the point of discriminatory prejudice is HIV, transmission of which is largely limited to sexual contact, blood transfusions and needle-stick injuries. In contrast, earlier in the year I read the statistics about food poisoning from ready-prepared food, such as in cafes, restaurants and the chiller cabinets of shops and supermarkets: they are horrific. Many of these infections are personal hygiene related, are easily preventable, and can be fatal. The term 'caveat emptor' (let the buyer beware: the buyer takes all the risks) appears to be applied in Britain a good deal more widely than simply buying things.
Although the threat of an H5N1-based 'flu pandemic seems to have passed, at least for the time being, the level of personal danger posed by the virus would have driven many people in Britain to the extremity of wearing cotton face masks. It goes without saying that it would be the healthy who would be wearing them.
Were the situation to be different, I should prefer the social ethic to be that anyone who was infectious did, as a matter of course, whatever was necessary to prevent the spread of their infection, isolating themselves if necessary. This would inevitably involve hand-washing, and the widespread use of disinfectant hand gels. It may involve the public use of cotton face masks, like in Japan.
29 December 2007
Nationhood (1): Fiddler on the Roof
I recently watched a television broadcast of Norman Jewison's 1971 movie Fiddler on the Roof. I have the VHS video, which I have watched several times, and I am wondering whether to buy the DVD. I often watch on television movies that I have on video. Not only is the quality of the broadcast picture superior - we have a Freeview digibox (digital television signal) box - but the inability to pause and rewind, which I do a lot in order to reflect on what I am watching, much to the mounting annoyance of my wife and daughter - we do not have TiVo - gives the viewing experience an edginess that whilst usually less intellectually satisfying, with the inevitable risk of disengagement between awareness and an integrated cognitive/conative/affective and imaginal response, can be emotionally more gratifying.
I was concerned, having watched the movie for the nth time, to discover what some of the critics have written about it. Roger Ebert was mildly scathing, whereas others have been more generous, although generous is probably what they intended. I find it helpful to read critics' reviews because they inevitably confirm some of my own thoughts and responses, and suggest others that had not occurred to me. I do not fully trust my own judgment. Most obviously for me, a good movie is one that I wish to watch many times. I feel cheated if the movie is not worth watching more than once. For this reason I rarely watch made-for-television movies. I am also likely to feel cheated if the only differences between the first and second viewings are that I know the plot twists and the denouement. On this basis I have learned that I have little interest in watching Ocean's Xteen. I was intrigued to find out whether I would find watching Memento as satisfying for the second time. The jury is still out on whether I should buy the DVD (the issue of memory is important to me). At the other end of the spectrum, the movies I like best are one's that, every time, take me on a journey, if I am up for it, into an even deeper understanding of what it is for me to be human in this world. This is what makes the movies of Andrei Tarkovsky, Akira Kurosawa, Peter Greenaway and Godfrey Regio so compelling for me, and also why I have a fascination for dystopias. In a 'good movie' there will always be the opportunity to discover more. Sometimes this involves seeing/hearing more clearly. My best analogue for this concerns a CD of music by Peter Maxwell Davies. I did not 'understand' what I was listening to the first time I heard it. The dissonances sounded like a cacophony, and the broken rhythms sounded like chaos. Only from many repeated playings have I come to hear the beauty and poise, accompanied by a progressive appreciation of his music. I care what critics write about Peter Maxwell Davies, or about Tarkovsky, Kurosawa, Greenaway or Regio, because I wish to 'understand' more. I am not required to agree with the evaluations of critics. A case in point is the movie I Heart Huckabees. I took the movie at face value albeit on three levels: 1) the level of plot / story / entertainment, etc.; 2) the movie-making level - script, acting, characterisation, filming, editing, etc.; 3) a philosophical level. On the first two of these levels the movie is terrible, and nothing on earth would induce me to watch it again. However, on the philosophical level the movie has something to say, and I shall watch it again. Naturally the critics slammed the movie. I also discovered from the reviews is that the movie is considered to be a spoof, the director intentionally mocking intellectual movies. Maybe, therefore, unlike the Peter Maxwell Davies CD, the movie has little so say - a second viewing and I shall be done with it - maybe. The idea of an existential detective agency interests me, even if the director intended it as a joke.
What does Fiddler on the Roof offer me in repeated viewings? There are major issues of personal, social and national identity, of cultural tradition ("Tradition"), and of spirituality. During the most recent viewing I felt challenged by the concept of personal, cultural and spiritual identity determining national identity. I like the globalised world in which we now live, and the breakdown of a one-to-one mapping between cultural and spiritual identity on the one hand and nationality (whether it be where I live or what is written in my passport) on the other. Whilst I understand something about Israel and about Kosovo, I also understand something about early twentieth century Japan, about Nazi Germany, about Afghanistan's Taleban, about aspects of Putin's Russia. I applaud the European Union both for its programme of smudging the statehood of nations, and for its support of cultural and spiritual diversity. These kinds of articulated insights are gold dust. I wonder what Fiddler on the Roof will offer me next time.
I was concerned, having watched the movie for the nth time, to discover what some of the critics have written about it. Roger Ebert was mildly scathing, whereas others have been more generous, although generous is probably what they intended. I find it helpful to read critics' reviews because they inevitably confirm some of my own thoughts and responses, and suggest others that had not occurred to me. I do not fully trust my own judgment. Most obviously for me, a good movie is one that I wish to watch many times. I feel cheated if the movie is not worth watching more than once. For this reason I rarely watch made-for-television movies. I am also likely to feel cheated if the only differences between the first and second viewings are that I know the plot twists and the denouement. On this basis I have learned that I have little interest in watching Ocean's Xteen. I was intrigued to find out whether I would find watching Memento as satisfying for the second time. The jury is still out on whether I should buy the DVD (the issue of memory is important to me). At the other end of the spectrum, the movies I like best are one's that, every time, take me on a journey, if I am up for it, into an even deeper understanding of what it is for me to be human in this world. This is what makes the movies of Andrei Tarkovsky, Akira Kurosawa, Peter Greenaway and Godfrey Regio so compelling for me, and also why I have a fascination for dystopias. In a 'good movie' there will always be the opportunity to discover more. Sometimes this involves seeing/hearing more clearly. My best analogue for this concerns a CD of music by Peter Maxwell Davies. I did not 'understand' what I was listening to the first time I heard it. The dissonances sounded like a cacophony, and the broken rhythms sounded like chaos. Only from many repeated playings have I come to hear the beauty and poise, accompanied by a progressive appreciation of his music. I care what critics write about Peter Maxwell Davies, or about Tarkovsky, Kurosawa, Greenaway or Regio, because I wish to 'understand' more. I am not required to agree with the evaluations of critics. A case in point is the movie I Heart Huckabees. I took the movie at face value albeit on three levels: 1) the level of plot / story / entertainment, etc.; 2) the movie-making level - script, acting, characterisation, filming, editing, etc.; 3) a philosophical level. On the first two of these levels the movie is terrible, and nothing on earth would induce me to watch it again. However, on the philosophical level the movie has something to say, and I shall watch it again. Naturally the critics slammed the movie. I also discovered from the reviews is that the movie is considered to be a spoof, the director intentionally mocking intellectual movies. Maybe, therefore, unlike the Peter Maxwell Davies CD, the movie has little so say - a second viewing and I shall be done with it - maybe. The idea of an existential detective agency interests me, even if the director intended it as a joke.
What does Fiddler on the Roof offer me in repeated viewings? There are major issues of personal, social and national identity, of cultural tradition ("Tradition"), and of spirituality. During the most recent viewing I felt challenged by the concept of personal, cultural and spiritual identity determining national identity. I like the globalised world in which we now live, and the breakdown of a one-to-one mapping between cultural and spiritual identity on the one hand and nationality (whether it be where I live or what is written in my passport) on the other. Whilst I understand something about Israel and about Kosovo, I also understand something about early twentieth century Japan, about Nazi Germany, about Afghanistan's Taleban, about aspects of Putin's Russia. I applaud the European Union both for its programme of smudging the statehood of nations, and for its support of cultural and spiritual diversity. These kinds of articulated insights are gold dust. I wonder what Fiddler on the Roof will offer me next time.
27 December 2007
My Tripadvisor travel map
- Tokyo, Japan
- Brugge, Belgium
- Avebury, United Kingdom
- Bath, United Kingdom
- Bourton-on-the-Water, United Kingdom
- Cambridge, United Kingdom
- Chester, United Kingdom
- Durham, United Kingdom
- Holy Island, United Kingdom
- Isle of Wight, United Kingdom
- London, United Kingdom
- Lulworth Cove, United Kingdom
- Ludlow, United Kingdom
- Lyme Regis, United Kingdom
- North York Moors National Park, United Kingdom
- Peak District National Park, United Kingdom
- Northumberland National Park, United Kingdom
- Oxford, United Kingdom
- Windermere, United Kingdom
- York, United Kingdom
- Yorkshire Dales National Park, United Kingdom
13 November 2007
Dystopias
Dystopias are usually dark images presented as what may be to come, or what could have been, often in order to comment on the present and current trends. What follows below is a list of writers and their works exploring variously the predicted future, or imagined futures, or imagined pasts, or imagined presents. I do not know whether the focus is merely mine, but technology and stage of technological development seem to play a significant role, whether through science fiction or through fantasy. An issue faced by all dystopic works is how to separate the dystopia from the real world. One method is to set the dystopia in the past. More commonly, the dystopia is set in the future, sometimes post-apocalyptically. A second method is to invent a fantasy world (Gormenghast, Middle Earth). A third is to place the dystopia on an island.
Early Works
Although I feel reluctant to include here The Revelation of St. John, canonically the final book of the New Testament, it purports to consider the future. Indeed, it is an eschatological work, that expresses the fears and hopes of the writer. There is no sense of a different technology, merely the destruction of society, maybe on moral grounds.
In total contrast, some of the writings and drawings of Galileo Galilei focus on moving technology forwards so as to better the lot of people in contemporary society.
Thomas More wrote a utopia, a pastoral idyll that I guess (for I have not read it) to be a kind of correction to all that was wrong with Elizabethan England. As I understand it, his writing was not about the future.
Nostradamus purported to predict the future. No doubt he had an agenda that was more financial and less mystical than popular imagination would care to believe. However, for people who take him seriously, the future was his to observe, not to control or judge. Why are people fascinated with his writing? What sort of people are fascinated with his writing?
Island Dystopias
Published in 1719, Daniel Defoe's novel about Robinson Crusoe, was based on the true story of Alexander Selkirk. Selkirk was shipwrecked, and for four years lived on an island off the coast of Chile. This was at a time when Britain was developing its empire. Selkirk and Crusoe had access only to pre-Iron Age technology, and the island represented regression.
The issue of regression, but much more explicitly regarding human nature, was explored by William Golding in The Lord of the Flies. In this 1950s novel, the aeroplane crash lands on a desert island, and the only survivors are children. The atavism that lies at the root of what it is to be human is progressively exposed by the island, leading to the savage murders of both Simon and Piggy.
In 1980, Lucy Irvine agreed with Gerald Kingsland to be Castaway (book, and movie starring Oliver Reed, 1986) on a desert island (Tuin Island in the Torres Straight, off the northern coast of Australia), as were both Joanna Lumley in Girl Friday (1994), and Tom Hanks, albeit fictionally, in Cast Away (2000).
Islas Sorna and Nublar constitute a different kind of island dystopia, inhabited by dinosaurs. These are largely closed worlds in which technology has been or becomes destroyed. It is ironic that it is only the most advanced technology that has permitted the re-creation of the archaic animal (and plant) life, whereas the dinosaurs themselves have the effect of destroying all technology. There is an obvious sense of disclocated time: 65 million years ago, a kind of present day, a near future in which such technology would be possible. There is also the observation in each movie that our society is fixated with entertainment I: theme park, II: safari, III: extreme sports / personal recreation.
Nineteenth and Twentieth Century Europe
During the height of the industrial revolution, with new sources of energy and new forms of power, the promise and threat of modern technology began to be explored.
In France, Jules Verne was writing exciting adventure stories, such as Journey to the Centre of the Earth, with exploration at their heart and new understandings of science and technology to add spice and suspend disbelief.
H.G.Wells wrote about possible futures. In The Time Machine, his protagonist is an observer; however, the tension between the Eloi and the Morlocks suggests a moral dimension that accords with Wells' eugenicist leanings. In both War of the Worlds and The Shape of Things to Come, Wells focuses on England in the future, although he gives a sense of life beyond Britain.
Fritz Lang's Metropolis is distinctly set in a future. It is not comforting.
Aldous Huxley set Brave New World in the future of the 26th century. It is a utopia in that it is a place of order, but it is a dystopia in that to a contemporary person there is no freedom. Huxley was extrapolating from what he knew of social (rise of Nazism and Stalinism) and technological developments (eugenics and the steadily increasing mechanisation of society).
Tolkein's response to what was happening in the world was to regress into the early medieval times of Middle Earth. In his highly moral tales, social relationships are rigid, and there is an absence of technology beyond the Iron Age. Middle Earth includes England (The Shire), but also includes dangerous places that are far away.
C.S.Lewis, in his writings, also explored a moral (Christian) past in Narnia (some of which resembles the medieval England of Robin Hood tales). However, Lewis also looked into the future, albeit with moral foreboding (Voyage to Venus, Out of the Silent Planet, That Hideous Strength).
Mervyn Peake also apparently retreated into a kind of Gothic (perhaps early 19th century) English past in his Gormenghast trilogy. However, his work is also more obviously a comment on what he was experiencing in mid-20th century England.
Written in 1947, and also commenting on post-war England, albeit set in the near future, is Orwell/Blair's 1984. There is technology, but no science. There is no freedom. For faithful party worker Winston Smith, the bad dream turns into a nightmare when he transgresses. There is for me an irony that whilst Orwell/Blair wrote that Big Brother is watching us, and therefore we must not transgress, in early twenty-first century, everyone is watching Big Brother, and has little time to transgress. With the exception, perhaps, of Monaco and Singapore, metropolitan Britain is probably one of the most observed places in the world, with webcams, cellphone cameras and closed-circuit television cameras beyond count. However, it is also clear from incidents such as the terrorist bombings in London on 7 July 2005, that despite hugely more advanced technology to the British state than was available in 1947 Britain, or to Airstrip One in 1984, it was not possible to prevent the bombings: the sense of being watched is more in the mind than in reality.
In Brazil, Terry Gilliam reworks 1984 into a darkly humourous absurdity. Whilst the location of the drama is a city in an economically-developed state, the place is more obviously New York than London.
In Escape from New York, John Carpenter takes the New York dystopia almost to its logical conclusion: the city as a prison from which there is no escape.
On the other hand, although A Clockwork Orange, is set both in place (southern England) and time (1960s), Anthony Burgess and Stanley Kubrick, in their dystopia, consider the breakdown of morals.
In John Wyndham's novels, there is a breakdown in society, usually precipitated by the desire for dangerous (scientific) knowledge: The Day of the Triffids, The Chrysalids, The Midwich Cuckoos (Village of the Damned: John Carpenter), The Kraken Wakes.
On the other hand, Arthur C. Clarke and Stanley Kubrick see progressive and evolutionary development of human awareness both as co-dependent on technological development, and also continuing into the future, as shown in 2001: A Space Odyssey. Similar ideas are developed more dystopically in Minority Report (starring Tom Cruise)
In I, Robot, Isaac Asimov develops a future in which the distinction between humankind and our technological creations become indistinguishable.
Post-Apocalyptic Visions of the Future
In The Postman, Kevin Costner plays the part of a drifter in a post-apocalyptic future in which society and civilised values and morals have been all-but destroyed. The stage of technological development is a mixture of early-Iron Age (I think that there is a blacksmith) and legacy industrial. Although the movie is critically held as flawed, it raises some interesting issues, for instance about what it is that we carry into the future. A hope for their future lies in rebuilding their civilisation, initially focused around the US Mail (c.f. the role of the Post Office in Die Blechtrommel).
In Waterworld, Kevin Costner plays the part of a drifter in a post-apocalyptic future in which society and civilised values and morals have been all-but destroyed. The stage of technological development is a mixture of pre-Iron Age and legacy industrial. The movie questions what will be left of our civilisation in centuries to come. A hope for the future, which becomes realised in the movie, is finding and re-inhabiting dry land.
In the Mad Max series, Mel Gibson plays the part of a drifter in a post-apocalyptic future in which society and civilised values and morals have been all-but destroyed. There is no hope for the future, and all hope has been destroyed.
Early Works
Although I feel reluctant to include here The Revelation of St. John, canonically the final book of the New Testament, it purports to consider the future. Indeed, it is an eschatological work, that expresses the fears and hopes of the writer. There is no sense of a different technology, merely the destruction of society, maybe on moral grounds.
In total contrast, some of the writings and drawings of Galileo Galilei focus on moving technology forwards so as to better the lot of people in contemporary society.
Thomas More wrote a utopia, a pastoral idyll that I guess (for I have not read it) to be a kind of correction to all that was wrong with Elizabethan England. As I understand it, his writing was not about the future.
Nostradamus purported to predict the future. No doubt he had an agenda that was more financial and less mystical than popular imagination would care to believe. However, for people who take him seriously, the future was his to observe, not to control or judge. Why are people fascinated with his writing? What sort of people are fascinated with his writing?
Island Dystopias
Published in 1719, Daniel Defoe's novel about Robinson Crusoe, was based on the true story of Alexander Selkirk. Selkirk was shipwrecked, and for four years lived on an island off the coast of Chile. This was at a time when Britain was developing its empire. Selkirk and Crusoe had access only to pre-Iron Age technology, and the island represented regression.
The issue of regression, but much more explicitly regarding human nature, was explored by William Golding in The Lord of the Flies. In this 1950s novel, the aeroplane crash lands on a desert island, and the only survivors are children. The atavism that lies at the root of what it is to be human is progressively exposed by the island, leading to the savage murders of both Simon and Piggy.
In 1980, Lucy Irvine agreed with Gerald Kingsland to be Castaway (book, and movie starring Oliver Reed, 1986) on a desert island (Tuin Island in the Torres Straight, off the northern coast of Australia), as were both Joanna Lumley in Girl Friday (1994), and Tom Hanks, albeit fictionally, in Cast Away (2000).
Islas Sorna and Nublar constitute a different kind of island dystopia, inhabited by dinosaurs. These are largely closed worlds in which technology has been or becomes destroyed. It is ironic that it is only the most advanced technology that has permitted the re-creation of the archaic animal (and plant) life, whereas the dinosaurs themselves have the effect of destroying all technology. There is an obvious sense of disclocated time: 65 million years ago, a kind of present day, a near future in which such technology would be possible. There is also the observation in each movie that our society is fixated with entertainment I: theme park, II: safari, III: extreme sports / personal recreation.
Nineteenth and Twentieth Century Europe
During the height of the industrial revolution, with new sources of energy and new forms of power, the promise and threat of modern technology began to be explored.
In France, Jules Verne was writing exciting adventure stories, such as Journey to the Centre of the Earth, with exploration at their heart and new understandings of science and technology to add spice and suspend disbelief.
H.G.Wells wrote about possible futures. In The Time Machine, his protagonist is an observer; however, the tension between the Eloi and the Morlocks suggests a moral dimension that accords with Wells' eugenicist leanings. In both War of the Worlds and The Shape of Things to Come, Wells focuses on England in the future, although he gives a sense of life beyond Britain.
Fritz Lang's Metropolis is distinctly set in a future. It is not comforting.
Aldous Huxley set Brave New World in the future of the 26th century. It is a utopia in that it is a place of order, but it is a dystopia in that to a contemporary person there is no freedom. Huxley was extrapolating from what he knew of social (rise of Nazism and Stalinism) and technological developments (eugenics and the steadily increasing mechanisation of society).
Tolkein's response to what was happening in the world was to regress into the early medieval times of Middle Earth. In his highly moral tales, social relationships are rigid, and there is an absence of technology beyond the Iron Age. Middle Earth includes England (The Shire), but also includes dangerous places that are far away.
C.S.Lewis, in his writings, also explored a moral (Christian) past in Narnia (some of which resembles the medieval England of Robin Hood tales). However, Lewis also looked into the future, albeit with moral foreboding (Voyage to Venus, Out of the Silent Planet, That Hideous Strength).
Mervyn Peake also apparently retreated into a kind of Gothic (perhaps early 19th century) English past in his Gormenghast trilogy. However, his work is also more obviously a comment on what he was experiencing in mid-20th century England.
Written in 1947, and also commenting on post-war England, albeit set in the near future, is Orwell/Blair's 1984. There is technology, but no science. There is no freedom. For faithful party worker Winston Smith, the bad dream turns into a nightmare when he transgresses. There is for me an irony that whilst Orwell/Blair wrote that Big Brother is watching us, and therefore we must not transgress, in early twenty-first century, everyone is watching Big Brother, and has little time to transgress. With the exception, perhaps, of Monaco and Singapore, metropolitan Britain is probably one of the most observed places in the world, with webcams, cellphone cameras and closed-circuit television cameras beyond count. However, it is also clear from incidents such as the terrorist bombings in London on 7 July 2005, that despite hugely more advanced technology to the British state than was available in 1947 Britain, or to Airstrip One in 1984, it was not possible to prevent the bombings: the sense of being watched is more in the mind than in reality.
In Brazil, Terry Gilliam reworks 1984 into a darkly humourous absurdity. Whilst the location of the drama is a city in an economically-developed state, the place is more obviously New York than London.
In Escape from New York, John Carpenter takes the New York dystopia almost to its logical conclusion: the city as a prison from which there is no escape.
On the other hand, although A Clockwork Orange, is set both in place (southern England) and time (1960s), Anthony Burgess and Stanley Kubrick, in their dystopia, consider the breakdown of morals.
In John Wyndham's novels, there is a breakdown in society, usually precipitated by the desire for dangerous (scientific) knowledge: The Day of the Triffids, The Chrysalids, The Midwich Cuckoos (Village of the Damned: John Carpenter), The Kraken Wakes.
On the other hand, Arthur C. Clarke and Stanley Kubrick see progressive and evolutionary development of human awareness both as co-dependent on technological development, and also continuing into the future, as shown in 2001: A Space Odyssey. Similar ideas are developed more dystopically in Minority Report (starring Tom Cruise)
In I, Robot, Isaac Asimov develops a future in which the distinction between humankind and our technological creations become indistinguishable.
Post-Apocalyptic Visions of the Future
In The Postman, Kevin Costner plays the part of a drifter in a post-apocalyptic future in which society and civilised values and morals have been all-but destroyed. The stage of technological development is a mixture of early-Iron Age (I think that there is a blacksmith) and legacy industrial. Although the movie is critically held as flawed, it raises some interesting issues, for instance about what it is that we carry into the future. A hope for their future lies in rebuilding their civilisation, initially focused around the US Mail (c.f. the role of the Post Office in Die Blechtrommel).
In Waterworld, Kevin Costner plays the part of a drifter in a post-apocalyptic future in which society and civilised values and morals have been all-but destroyed. The stage of technological development is a mixture of pre-Iron Age and legacy industrial. The movie questions what will be left of our civilisation in centuries to come. A hope for the future, which becomes realised in the movie, is finding and re-inhabiting dry land.
In the Mad Max series, Mel Gibson plays the part of a drifter in a post-apocalyptic future in which society and civilised values and morals have been all-but destroyed. There is no hope for the future, and all hope has been destroyed.
08 November 2007
The UK Immigration Debate
This post is based partly on two postings I made on the weblog of BBC television's flagship current affairs programme: Newsnight. During late October and early November 2007 the print and broadcast media have been making much of announcements made by the UK government about the number of people without British nationality who are living in the UK. I have been very unhappy about the tone of the discourse, the tenor of which is to wish to reduce or relegate the validity of people not born in the UK to live and/or work in the UK. The pronouns most frequently used are "we" (referring to people born in the UK, with the strong implication that these people are white-skinned and speak English as a first language) and "them" (referring to people not born in the UK, with the strong implication that these people may or may not be white-skinned, but do not speak English as a first language). I do not wish to be categorised as part of the "we". I should much rather that the focus were on 'people living and/or working in the UK'.
I am fed up with hearing commentators endlessly repeat immigration statistics. I would much rather listen to an informed and intelligent discussion about the changing demographics of ecomically-developed and -developing states, about the desirability or otherwise of doing anything about the changing demographics, about an ethical analysis of migration (refugees, asylum seekers, poor people wanting a better life), about the pros and cons of classic nationhood in this
globalised world, and about the ways in which the news media and political parties address, or fail to address, these issues.
Myth-buster 1:
Britain is not a small island. Britain is huge: not only are there are vast, unpopulated tracts, there are many towns and cities in northern England that are under-populated with stagnant local economies awaiting revitalisation. Britain is far from the most densely populated economically-developed country. Greater Tokyo, Hong Kong, New York City, Monaco and the Netherlands, for example, are more densely populated than the supposedly over-populated south east of England, and they are social and economic powerhouses for that.Myth-buster 2:
Indigenous culture is a determinant only for people who wish to make it so. Contemporary Britain has more in common with most of the economically-developed world than it does with Britain a century ago ("The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there." Hartley, L.P., London, 1953) The culture of a country is whatever the people who happen to live in that place make it to be, not what it used to be. Christianity was once alien to the islands now called Britain. Happily, few of the world's major cultures are now strangers to each other here in Britain.
Myth-buster 3:
I have neither a legal nor a moral right to determine who lives in my street. I do have a right to choose in which street I live. Many Britons choose to exercise that right by migrating to France, Spain, Italy, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, the United States and so on. I am happy that people from all around the globe choose to exercise their legal right to migrate to Britain. Rather than tightened, as the current political rhetoric would have, I should prefer that legal restrictions on migration were eased.
Listening to an edition of Newsnight broadcast on the evening of Thursday 8 November 2007, during which telephone callers were invited to offer their opinions, it became clear that few if any of the callers were interested in generalisable facts and statistics. They did little to demonstrate that their minds were open to rational argument. Instead they used slogans such as "Britain is a small island", and "We are an island nation", "Our country has been flooded with immigrants" and "We have become an ethnic minority". It was, at the same time, clear that many of the callers, speaking from their own experience, perceived no benefit to themselves from the presence of people who they considered to be from elsewhere ("foreign", "immigrant"). Whilst I am enthusiastic to live in a modern, multi-cultural, multi-ethnic country, many people born in the UK would prefer to live in a society made up of English-speaking, white-skinned, anglo-saxons. Their intentions, as they so readily (too readily, perhaps) stated, are not (strongly) racist. However, they directly experience the discomfort of social change, including dislocation, but perceive themselves as receiving none of the benefits. Arguments such as "The NHS/London Transport/fruit picking would collapse without the work of people from overseas" are weak in their eyes for two reasons: many of the jobs undertaken by unskilled people from overseas are low status jobs, and are invisible in the way that homeless people on the street tend to be looked through (and being poorly recognised quite how many jobs of this kind there are, there is little sense of how vulnerable to collapse these sections of the UK economy may be); there are white British people who are unemployed who should be doing such jobs (with little attention being given to the location of the people versus jobs, and the health status of many unemployed people in relation to physically demanding jobs).
Migrant Workers
Some of the UK public debate about immigration focuses on the perceived value to the UK economy of people from other countries. The argument is that the British economy benefits from both the specialist skills, and also the lower wage expectations, of people from other countries. The debate revolves around the concept of migrant workers. The term is used largely to refer to people who are undertaking low-skilled, poorly-paid jobs such as fruit picking and other agricultural work, office and hospital cleaning, and low status care roles. At the high-status end of the spectrum, it would be unusual for a Chicago-born Managing Director of the UK office of a transnational corporation, or a young, Hong-Kong-born international banker working for a few years in the City, or a partly Frankfurt-based Commodities and Futures Manager who commutes to London for three days each week, to be referred to as 'migrant workers'. Perhaps intermediate in status are the specialist skills of a computer software engineer from, say, Bangalore, who takes a well-paid job in Bristol, Birmingham or Manchester, sending much of his salary to his family in India; or a dentist who has let her flat in Warsaw so that she can live and work in Nottingham for a few years, earning enough money to be able to buy a house in the southern mountains of Poland.
I am unhappy that people from other countries are being seen in terms of their economic worth to the British economy. To me, this view approaches the attitude of seeing people primarily, or even merely, as units of production. Ultimately this is the attitude that permitted (and in some cases still permits) the slave trade. People are, first and foremost, human beings.
Asylum Seekers and Bogus Asylum Seekers and Refugees
I am certain, although I cannot prove it, that in the minds of many people in the UK there is no distinction between the categories of refugee and asylum seeker, and there is an elision between the categories of asylum seeker and migrant worker (who in this context is more typically referred to as an economic migrant, which is considered synonymous with 'someone who is out for whatever they can get'). I am equally certain that, whilst there are occasions when the overall tenor of public discourse leads to more overt expressions of compassion for people fleeing disasters such as drought, flood, famine and wars, the duration of the compassion rarely extends to an enthusiasm to rehouse the victims of such circumstances in the UK. For example, when a volcanic eruption devastated the Caribbean island of Monserrat, there was a national failure in Britain to understand why the displaced people had to come to the UK. "Why can't they go elsewhere?" It was the same with refugees from the war in Bosnia. There appears both to be an unwillingness to accept that, along with every other country with UN membership, the UK has international legal obligations, and also a belief that Britain already does more than its fair share. There is also the perception, expressed most vocally in the 'red-top' press, that people claiming a fear of persecution as the reason for their need to leave their home country, are either lying or exaggerating, and are principally motivated by the simple desire for a better life. These so-called "bogus asylum seekers" are most charitably described as economic migrants, and much resentment is expressed by white British people who would like a better life for themselves. The fact that it may be very hard to leave the country in which one has always lived, the country in which one's relatives and friends (those that remain alive) still live, a country in which one fears that the police (e.g. Jack Mapange) or the military (e.g. asylum seekers from Rwanda and Burundi) or the death squads, will be watching the ports, and also that it is remarkably difficult to arrive in, and gain admittance to (see The Terminal starring Tom Hanks), the UK, is considered to be of little relevance. In The Net, the character played by Sandra Bullock expects to get her life back, which she does in the end, as do the characters played by Harrison Ford in The Fugitive, and by Will Smith in Enemy of the State. Life on the run in one's own country is lonely and miserable, and played by Gene Hackman in Enemy of the State.
06 November 2007
Edinburgh: the best place to live in the UK
Edinburgh (population 430,082) is considered to be the best place to live in the UK.
It is easy to offer reasons for Edinburgh's status. The city has shops: (inter)national chain and independent, and the reputation of Princess Street extends beyond the UK. There are restaurants (including several vegetarian restaurants) offering a wide range of cuisines at a range of prices. Tripadvisor lists 194 hotels, 219 B&Bs and inns, and 45 speciality lodgings. There are cinemas, theatres and art galleries that are swept up in an internationally-renowned summer arts festival. Murrayfield is well known to sports fans, and there are golf courses around the city. Encircling the southern half of the city is a near-motorway by-pass, and there is a well-used local bus network, a local rail network, and construction of a tram network is underway. The local economy is thriving, boosted by tourism. The presence of the Scottish parliament is a vote of confidence in the city.
The building that houses the Scottish parliament is a wonderful construction. Although much criticised, and unjustly mocked, it is highly original in design, in excellent taste, apparently fit for purpose (although I should want to hear the opinions of MSPs before firming up on that statement), and an impressive intertwining of contemporary and historical.
It is easy to offer reasons for Edinburgh's status. The city has shops: (inter)national chain and independent, and the reputation of Princess Street extends beyond the UK. There are restaurants (including several vegetarian restaurants) offering a wide range of cuisines at a range of prices. Tripadvisor lists 194 hotels, 219 B&Bs and inns, and 45 speciality lodgings. There are cinemas, theatres and art galleries that are swept up in an internationally-renowned summer arts festival. Murrayfield is well known to sports fans, and there are golf courses around the city. Encircling the southern half of the city is a near-motorway by-pass, and there is a well-used local bus network, a local rail network, and construction of a tram network is underway. The local economy is thriving, boosted by tourism. The presence of the Scottish parliament is a vote of confidence in the city.
The building that houses the Scottish parliament is a wonderful construction. Although much criticised, and unjustly mocked, it is highly original in design, in excellent taste, apparently fit for purpose (although I should want to hear the opinions of MSPs before firming up on that statement), and an impressive intertwining of contemporary and historical.
05 November 2007
Middlesbrough: the worst place to live in the UK
In a recent popular UK television property programme (Location, Location, Location) focusing on the best and worst places to live in the UK, it was announced that Middlesbrough is the worst to live in 2007. The programme-makers compiled and analysed what they implied were vast quantities of statistical data about the areas defined by each local government authority in the UK. The data for Middlesbrough are depressingly clear: poor diet leading to high levels of obesity; heavy use of tobacco leading to poor health; high levels of crime, especially violent crime; high levels of prostitution and illicit drug use; poor quality housing; and poor educational achievement. According to the Office for National Statistics, the population around the docks have the poorest life-expectancy in the UK. Hartlepool, Hull and Grimsby also fared badly for similar reasons. All four are North Sea coast industrial towns that thrived during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, but are now stuggling to find new twenty-first century roles, and some kind of post-industrial purpose in life.
When interviewed, people in Middlesbrough expressed unhappiness about the designation. It is not that they expressed any (misplaced, perhaps) sense of responsibility. Some of these people identify with the town, and in a love-me-love-my-dog kind of a way, take the label as a personal criticism: criticise my town and you criticise me. Some denied the designation, claiming that the programme researchers were in error. Although approximations and judgments will have been made, and mistakes are possible, it seems unlikely that the four North Sea coast industrial towns should in truth be designated as deeply desirable places in which to live. The long-held British penchant for empiricism over abstract theory is not lightly to be dumped by denying the data. Some people denied the designation, claiming a southern conspiracy. However, the purpose and motivation for such a conspiracy are unclear.
It would be easy to understand were the people of Middlesbrough to express anger that they are ill-served by the statutory services of local government, the police and the National Health Service, for it is the authorities and the statutory services that are failing the people. However, Ray Mallon, the mayor of Middlesbrough, and its former police chief, rather than committing himself and his office to social improvement, chose to express dissatisfaction with the designation. It is not my intention to criticise the work of any individual, as I am certain that there are many people working in the statutory or voluntary sectors who are performing sterling work under difficult circumstances. However, there is a responsibility for the people who lead and manage these services to be in possession of an analysis and a vision that can lead Middlesbrough, and its people, away from its current status.
Another comment I have heard in this context is that it is unhelpful to kick a dog when it is down. However, Middlesbrough is not a dog, it is a town on some 142,691 people who deserve better services than they are receiving from the organisations with responsibility to serve them. Better a bleak, stark picture that tells the truth, even if it is only a snapshot, than a comforting chocolate box image that glosses over what should be unacceptable.
When interviewed, people in Middlesbrough expressed unhappiness about the designation. It is not that they expressed any (misplaced, perhaps) sense of responsibility. Some of these people identify with the town, and in a love-me-love-my-dog kind of a way, take the label as a personal criticism: criticise my town and you criticise me. Some denied the designation, claiming that the programme researchers were in error. Although approximations and judgments will have been made, and mistakes are possible, it seems unlikely that the four North Sea coast industrial towns should in truth be designated as deeply desirable places in which to live. The long-held British penchant for empiricism over abstract theory is not lightly to be dumped by denying the data. Some people denied the designation, claiming a southern conspiracy. However, the purpose and motivation for such a conspiracy are unclear.
It would be easy to understand were the people of Middlesbrough to express anger that they are ill-served by the statutory services of local government, the police and the National Health Service, for it is the authorities and the statutory services that are failing the people. However, Ray Mallon, the mayor of Middlesbrough, and its former police chief, rather than committing himself and his office to social improvement, chose to express dissatisfaction with the designation. It is not my intention to criticise the work of any individual, as I am certain that there are many people working in the statutory or voluntary sectors who are performing sterling work under difficult circumstances. However, there is a responsibility for the people who lead and manage these services to be in possession of an analysis and a vision that can lead Middlesbrough, and its people, away from its current status.
Another comment I have heard in this context is that it is unhelpful to kick a dog when it is down. However, Middlesbrough is not a dog, it is a town on some 142,691 people who deserve better services than they are receiving from the organisations with responsibility to serve them. Better a bleak, stark picture that tells the truth, even if it is only a snapshot, than a comforting chocolate box image that glosses over what should be unacceptable.
31 October 2007
Diet and health
Of course I am what I eat. If I eat junk then my bodily functions get junked. If I eat poisons my body gets poisoned. If I drink carcinogens I get cancer. This is not rocket science. It is, however, experienced as extremely challenging to people who, wedded to unhealthy habits, deny evidence that demonstrates their habits to be unhealthy. Under the hot African sun an ostrich may be wise to bury its head for a while in the sand. To leave its head buried indefinitely, however, leads inevitably to death. The British news media exist not even in a parallel universe, but in a universe that at times appears to be perpendicular to reality. In keeping with "Up Yours, Delors", "Gotcha" and "Freddy Starr Ate My Hamster", the British news media can be relied on to deride any suggestion that might enpale the deepest ultramarine of political, cultural, social and scientific status quos. (When Murdoch supported Blair in 1997, Murdoch already knew what most of us then did not.) "Bonkers nanny state claims Earth is round" "Boffins claim phlogiston does not exist" "Pinko bishops say Earth goes round sun" If alcohol is a mild carcinogen, then alcohol is a mild carcinogen. If eating mammals too often leads to a variety of cancers and to heart disease, then it probably makes good sense not to eat mammals very often, or even not at all. As I understand it, Canute/Knut did not believe that he would stop the tide: he was demonstrating that not even he could stop the tide. Third, the food, drink and drugs manufacturers. "Would you like to try this lead-based make-up?" "How about this mercury-based medicine?" "Smoking tobacco will improve both your health and your image."
I am happy that money raised from taxes should be spent on promoting healthy living. I do not understand why money raised from taxes is used to promote healthy living at the same time as money is spent promoting those same products. This is like permitting an arsonist to continue to spray petrol onto a fire that firefighters are trying to extinguish.
Manifesto for immediate action:
1. ban all advertising (including sponsorship) of food related to mammals
2. ban all advertising (including sponsorship) of alcohol
3. ban any retail outlet (including supermarkets) from selling alcohol for consumption off the premises, with the exception of licensed, sole-purpose premises (off-licenses), and prohibiting the sale from those licensed, sole-purpose premises of anything that is not explicitly identified in legislation as alcohol-consumption-related (specifically: confectionery, snack foods and soft drinks)
4. ban any retail outlet from selling tobacco with the exception of licensed, sole-purpose premises (tobacconists), and prohibiting the sale of anything that is not explicitly identified in legislation as smoking-related (specifically: confectionery, snack foods, soft drinks, newspapers and magazines)
5. require anyone importing alcohol into the UK, or entering the UK with alcohol (no exceptions) to be in possession of a wholesale or retail license to sell alcohol
6. require anyone importing tobacco into the UK, or entering the UK with tobacco (no exceptions) to be in possession of a wholesale or retail license to sell tobacco.
In case the above appears extreme, it is worth noting that there are places in the world where the sale of alcohol is either banned (such as in some Musim countries) or restricted in a manner similar to that described above (such as in Scandanavia and parts of Canada). There is legislation in most countries about which drugs may be retailed, and control of the way in which those drugs are advertised and retailed. There is legislation in many countries restricting the import without an appropriate license of any quantity whatsoever of a wide variety of foodstuffs (try taking a sandwich into the US through JFK).
There are many people employed in industries relating to the production and distribution of tobacco, alcohol and food derived from mammals. These people will lose their jobs. New jobs must be found for them. Part of the UK, EU and world economies are based around these products, and there will be a reduction in economic activity. New opportunities must be found and exploited. There is very much to be done in the world: spreading education; building developing economies out of their poverty; improving the natural environment; developing and exploiting energy sources that are less destructive of the natural environment; finding ways to rescue archaeology, cultures and languages that are being eclipsed by the modern world; seeking out new ways and places to live; seeking out new pharmaceutical products; improving the quality of the housing in which people live; spreading and embedding new technology; helping people to get fit and lead healthier lives.
Were western societies to progress in the simple ways described above, the move would represent further steps towards a more wholesome existence.
I am happy that money raised from taxes should be spent on promoting healthy living. I do not understand why money raised from taxes is used to promote healthy living at the same time as money is spent promoting those same products. This is like permitting an arsonist to continue to spray petrol onto a fire that firefighters are trying to extinguish.
Manifesto for immediate action:
1. ban all advertising (including sponsorship) of food related to mammals
2. ban all advertising (including sponsorship) of alcohol
3. ban any retail outlet (including supermarkets) from selling alcohol for consumption off the premises, with the exception of licensed, sole-purpose premises (off-licenses), and prohibiting the sale from those licensed, sole-purpose premises of anything that is not explicitly identified in legislation as alcohol-consumption-related (specifically: confectionery, snack foods and soft drinks)
4. ban any retail outlet from selling tobacco with the exception of licensed, sole-purpose premises (tobacconists), and prohibiting the sale of anything that is not explicitly identified in legislation as smoking-related (specifically: confectionery, snack foods, soft drinks, newspapers and magazines)
5. require anyone importing alcohol into the UK, or entering the UK with alcohol (no exceptions) to be in possession of a wholesale or retail license to sell alcohol
6. require anyone importing tobacco into the UK, or entering the UK with tobacco (no exceptions) to be in possession of a wholesale or retail license to sell tobacco.
In case the above appears extreme, it is worth noting that there are places in the world where the sale of alcohol is either banned (such as in some Musim countries) or restricted in a manner similar to that described above (such as in Scandanavia and parts of Canada). There is legislation in most countries about which drugs may be retailed, and control of the way in which those drugs are advertised and retailed. There is legislation in many countries restricting the import without an appropriate license of any quantity whatsoever of a wide variety of foodstuffs (try taking a sandwich into the US through JFK).
There are many people employed in industries relating to the production and distribution of tobacco, alcohol and food derived from mammals. These people will lose their jobs. New jobs must be found for them. Part of the UK, EU and world economies are based around these products, and there will be a reduction in economic activity. New opportunities must be found and exploited. There is very much to be done in the world: spreading education; building developing economies out of their poverty; improving the natural environment; developing and exploiting energy sources that are less destructive of the natural environment; finding ways to rescue archaeology, cultures and languages that are being eclipsed by the modern world; seeking out new ways and places to live; seeking out new pharmaceutical products; improving the quality of the housing in which people live; spreading and embedding new technology; helping people to get fit and lead healthier lives.
Were western societies to progress in the simple ways described above, the move would represent further steps towards a more wholesome existence.
08 October 2007
On making fun of disability
At the end of the daily electronic newsletter of the BBC's flagship current affairs programme, Newsnight, some weeks ago, was printed a 'joke' about Van Gogh having severed his ear. I found the 'joke' to be in very poor taste, for the reasons set out below, and wrote the following in the Newsnight weblog feedback.
I recently read a report on a BBC news webpage 'Humour comes from testosterone' about some research recently carried out that concluded that much humour is sublimated aggression.
I found the Van Gogh 'joke' offensive: it colludes with people who laugh at my uncle as "foot-loose" because his foot was amputated as a result of advanced diabetes; with the people who laugh at injured war veterans being "legless" or "'armless "; with people who mock the spasms associated with cerebral palsy; with people who laugh at the disturbing effects of mental health problems. Making these circumstances into 'jokes' might relieve tension in those not directly impacted by disability, but it also brazenly stigmatises. There is so much in life at which to laugh without any need to descend to stigmatising.
I recently read a report on a BBC news webpage 'Humour comes from testosterone' about some research recently carried out that concluded that much humour is sublimated aggression.
25 September 2007
Japan 2: some differences between Sunderland and Tokyo
Sunderland has churches made of honey-coloured sandstone. Outside each church may be the street, or maybe a path through a graveyard. Tokyo, Kyoto and Nara have Buddhist temples and Shinto shrines made of wood painted black or white or tomato red. Each temple and shrine has a tori or a gatehouse. The place of worship is hidden behind a wall that encloses an open area. However, the open area is not a graveyard, although it is a place of peace.
When greeting a person, or acknowledging them, or thanking them, or when saying goodbye, Japanese people bow to each other. This action demonstrates respect, and when performed by both (or more) parties, shows mutual respect. How the people of Sunderland communicate respect is not obvious to me.
Pedestrians in Japan tend to obey road crossing signals. However, unlike in Germany where it is usual to encounter a group of people standing beside an empty road waiting for the green man to tell them that they may cross, in Japan (Tokyo, Kyoto and Nara to be precise) they would cross the road if it made no sense to wait. In Sunderland it is a commonplace that pedestrians ignore road crossing signals, endangering themselves and road users.
In Tokyo, and particularly in Kyoto, cyclists ignore instructions and park their bicycles anywhere. Teams of municipal workers make monthly raids to clear the footpaths of illegally-parked bicycles. The bicycles are not locked because it is not expected that anyone would steal them. In Durham a cyclist is likely to be careful where they park and chain their bicycle so as to avoid it being stolen. Few people cycle in central Sunderland.
In Tokyo and Kyoto, the streets are clean because people rarely drop litter. In Sunderland and Durham the streets are clean because gangs of street sweepers remove on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis the litter that people toss onto the ground.
In Tokyo and Kyoto it seemed to be a matter of great personal importance to people whose job it is to serve that they give excellent service. Staffing levels are high. In North East England it is rare to encounter anyone in the service sector who is eager to deliver excellence with enthusiasm. The exceptions are noteworthy, such as a waitress at El Piano in York, and a young man at the Jorvik Viking Centre. Overall, staffing levels are low. This may be significant.
Japan has a massive railway system, with frequent trains that run on time to the second. Staffing levels are high, and the officials take their job very seriously. The North East of England has four railway lines, with infrequent train services that are often unreliable. Railway officials are little in evidence, and not known for their customer service.
In Tokyo (and Kyoto) supermarkets typically carry little fresh fruit, it is very expensive, and is often ready-basketed as a gift. In North East England almost every supermarket carries some fresh fruit, often a very wide range, mostly quite cheap, and ready for eating not gifting.
In Sunderland people visit the bookmakers, the casino, the slot-machine shops, the bingo and buy lottery tickets. In Tokyo and Kyoto, we saw people sitting feeding metal to metal, glaze-eyed as though zombies, in the pachinko parlours.
When greeting a person, or acknowledging them, or thanking them, or when saying goodbye, Japanese people bow to each other. This action demonstrates respect, and when performed by both (or more) parties, shows mutual respect. How the people of Sunderland communicate respect is not obvious to me.
Pedestrians in Japan tend to obey road crossing signals. However, unlike in Germany where it is usual to encounter a group of people standing beside an empty road waiting for the green man to tell them that they may cross, in Japan (Tokyo, Kyoto and Nara to be precise) they would cross the road if it made no sense to wait. In Sunderland it is a commonplace that pedestrians ignore road crossing signals, endangering themselves and road users.
In Tokyo, and particularly in Kyoto, cyclists ignore instructions and park their bicycles anywhere. Teams of municipal workers make monthly raids to clear the footpaths of illegally-parked bicycles. The bicycles are not locked because it is not expected that anyone would steal them. In Durham a cyclist is likely to be careful where they park and chain their bicycle so as to avoid it being stolen. Few people cycle in central Sunderland.
In Tokyo and Kyoto, the streets are clean because people rarely drop litter. In Sunderland and Durham the streets are clean because gangs of street sweepers remove on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis the litter that people toss onto the ground.
In Tokyo and Kyoto it seemed to be a matter of great personal importance to people whose job it is to serve that they give excellent service. Staffing levels are high. In North East England it is rare to encounter anyone in the service sector who is eager to deliver excellence with enthusiasm. The exceptions are noteworthy, such as a waitress at El Piano in York, and a young man at the Jorvik Viking Centre. Overall, staffing levels are low. This may be significant.
Japan has a massive railway system, with frequent trains that run on time to the second. Staffing levels are high, and the officials take their job very seriously. The North East of England has four railway lines, with infrequent train services that are often unreliable. Railway officials are little in evidence, and not known for their customer service.
In Tokyo (and Kyoto) supermarkets typically carry little fresh fruit, it is very expensive, and is often ready-basketed as a gift. In North East England almost every supermarket carries some fresh fruit, often a very wide range, mostly quite cheap, and ready for eating not gifting.
In Sunderland people visit the bookmakers, the casino, the slot-machine shops, the bingo and buy lottery tickets. In Tokyo and Kyoto, we saw people sitting feeding metal to metal, glaze-eyed as though zombies, in the pachinko parlours.
24 September 2007
Japan 1: transport
I visited Japan for the first time in August 2007. Flying from Newcastle (NCL) via Schipol (AMS) to Narita (NRT), and back, the long flights over Asia were painful and long-as-a-lifetime. However, KLM was good, and avoided adding extra pain.
Taking the Narita express was the least problematic means of travelling the fifty or so miles from the airport into central Tokyo. Returning to Narita at the end of the holiday it was a mistake to take the stopping train, for although the ticket was cheaper, the train was crowded for much of the journey, which was also substantially longer.
Japan has many railway companies, some of which belong to the Japan Rail Group. Trains belonging to different companies may run on the same lines, or on different lines; may stop at the same stations, or at different stations; may start and terminate at the same place or different places. Inevitably there are different running frequencies, different travel times and different fare structures. Working out how best to travel by train from, for instance, Tokyo to Nikko, is as complicated as working out how best to travel by train from Durham to Newcastle is easy. Within Tokyo, the subway system has a tendency to shadow the suburban railway system. Not forgetting the limited-stop, deep-underground suburban railway system. Whether Japanese people are so used to these multi-layered options that they negotiate them without effort, or like unsuspecting visitors from overseas they quail at the thought, I have no idea. Their ability to read modern Japanese script, which, true to form, uses four different character sets (kanji, hiragana, katakana and roman), delivers a profound advantage when buying a rail ticket from machine, for although the machine offers instructions in English, the same courtesy is not extended to the names of stations, which are written in kanji.
Taking the Narita express was the least problematic means of travelling the fifty or so miles from the airport into central Tokyo. Returning to Narita at the end of the holiday it was a mistake to take the stopping train, for although the ticket was cheaper, the train was crowded for much of the journey, which was also substantially longer.
Japan has many railway companies, some of which belong to the Japan Rail Group. Trains belonging to different companies may run on the same lines, or on different lines; may stop at the same stations, or at different stations; may start and terminate at the same place or different places. Inevitably there are different running frequencies, different travel times and different fare structures. Working out how best to travel by train from, for instance, Tokyo to Nikko, is as complicated as working out how best to travel by train from Durham to Newcastle is easy. Within Tokyo, the subway system has a tendency to shadow the suburban railway system. Not forgetting the limited-stop, deep-underground suburban railway system. Whether Japanese people are so used to these multi-layered options that they negotiate them without effort, or like unsuspecting visitors from overseas they quail at the thought, I have no idea. Their ability to read modern Japanese script, which, true to form, uses four different character sets (kanji, hiragana, katakana and roman), delivers a profound advantage when buying a rail ticket from machine, for although the machine offers instructions in English, the same courtesy is not extended to the names of stations, which are written in kanji.
16 April 2007
Lila, by Robert Pirsig
There are few people who have not read Robert Pirsig's principal claim to fame: Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. That I have read the book twice is not saying much. Even if some people have a copy on their bookshelves only for show, never having read the novel, that proportion must be small compared with the number of people who posess a copy of A Brief History of Time by Professor Stephen Hawking, although the pages of the book are as yet uncut. I doubt, however, that there is kudos associated with either owning or reading a copy of Pirsig's Lila, a sequel in several senses to Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.
Lila uses a similar formula to Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: a 'road trip' story interspersed with the advancement of a philosophical model of human experience.
On the positive side I found many valuable insights in Pirsig's text, the most illuminating being:
However, I feel suspicious about philosophy being presented inj the format of a novel. Despite the existentialists, such as Jean-Paul Sartre, Albert Camus and Friedrich Durenmat having presented and explored, or at least illustrated, their ideas in a fictional format (novels, novellas, short stories and theatrical plays), and probably being most popularly known for this, I question why someone who purports to have something new and substantial to say would choose a medium that requires the suspension of disbelief and literary sleights of hand, and would risk the message being ignored or thrown out because the literary quality of the work may be considered to be poor. The literary works of Sartre, Camus and Durenmat may not all be masterpieces, but they can be read at least adequately, and in many cases exceptionally well, without being required to engage with the philosophical exposition. Susan Hill's novels, such as In the Springtime of the Year, The Bird of Night, and I'm the King of the Castle, are typically each important psychological explorations that work well as novels. In none is Hill breaking new and contentious ground, and with each it would be possible to visit source material, for example with the novels listed: respectively bereavement, psychotic breakdown and sibling rivalry. I would feel uneasy were I to find that Hill was, in fact, presenting new, unsupported ideas about psychology and psychiatry through the medium of a novel.
[to be continued...]
Lila uses a similar formula to Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: a 'road trip' story interspersed with the advancement of a philosophical model of human experience.
On the positive side I found many valuable insights in Pirsig's text, the most illuminating being:
"If objects are the ultimate reality then there's only one true intellectual construction of things: that which corresponds to the objective world. But if truth is defined as a high-quality set of intellectual value patterns, then insanity can be defined as just a low quality set of intellectual value patterns, and you get a whole different picture of it."When the culture asks, 'Why doesn't this person see things the way we do?' you can answer that he doesn't see them because he doesn't value them. He's gone into illegal value patterns because the illegal patterns resolve value conflicts that the culture's unable to handle. The causes of insanity may be all kinds of things, from chemical imbalances to social conflicts. But insanity has solved these conflicts with illegal patterns which appear to be of a higher quality."
However, I feel suspicious about philosophy being presented inj the format of a novel. Despite the existentialists, such as Jean-Paul Sartre, Albert Camus and Friedrich Durenmat having presented and explored, or at least illustrated, their ideas in a fictional format (novels, novellas, short stories and theatrical plays), and probably being most popularly known for this, I question why someone who purports to have something new and substantial to say would choose a medium that requires the suspension of disbelief and literary sleights of hand, and would risk the message being ignored or thrown out because the literary quality of the work may be considered to be poor. The literary works of Sartre, Camus and Durenmat may not all be masterpieces, but they can be read at least adequately, and in many cases exceptionally well, without being required to engage with the philosophical exposition. Susan Hill's novels, such as In the Springtime of the Year, The Bird of Night, and I'm the King of the Castle, are typically each important psychological explorations that work well as novels. In none is Hill breaking new and contentious ground, and with each it would be possible to visit source material, for example with the novels listed: respectively bereavement, psychotic breakdown and sibling rivalry. I would feel uneasy were I to find that Hill was, in fact, presenting new, unsupported ideas about psychology and psychiatry through the medium of a novel.
[to be continued...]
14 April 2007
Green issues 9: media discussion of green issues
Why does every other comment in the UK media regarding global warming appear to criticise either air travel or 4 x 4s, the so-called 'Chelsea tractors'? I think that reason might involve the fact that they are, for several reasons, popular targets, and also that these targets serve to distract from addressing more sensitive issues.
[To be continued...]
[To be continued...]
30 March 2007
Faith in geological processes
Too many geologists appear to have lost faith in geological processes. Instead they call upon 'satan ex machina', as explored entertainingly in the movie The Fifth Element. The dinosaurs were not hit on the head by an asteroid (or even two). If someone as much as sneezes these so-called geologists invoke a killer asteroid. Have more faith in your training! Geology happens because of geological processes. Volcanic eruptions, lava flows, plate tectonics and salt domes are examples of what is perfectly good enough to explain much of what happens here on Earth - after all, look at Venus. The latest examples of asteroid-mania is the claim by UK geologists who, feeling left out of the limelight, are insisting that fomer salt dome structures in the North Sea are the UK's own meteor impact craters. What is wrong with these people? I am starting to wonder if they have been 'got at' by Creationists.
In contrast, methane hydrates represent a real tipping point ready to topple. Global warming threatens to release these extensive greenhouse deposits, as happened at the end of the Permian, roasting the Earth for hundreds of thousands of years. This is a bona fide, if catastrophic, geological process that has rapid and far-reaching consequences. (I consider this issue in greater detail in my website: Green.)
In contrast, methane hydrates represent a real tipping point ready to topple. Global warming threatens to release these extensive greenhouse deposits, as happened at the end of the Permian, roasting the Earth for hundreds of thousands of years. This is a bona fide, if catastrophic, geological process that has rapid and far-reaching consequences. (I consider this issue in greater detail in my website: Green.)
29 March 2007
Subceptions: counselling weblog
I have started a new weblog, Subceptions, which can be found at:
http://myblogs.sunderland.ac.uk/blogs/blog-259/
The purpose of this weblog is to explore counselling-related issues.
http://myblogs.sunderland.ac.uk/blogs/blog-259/
The purpose of this weblog is to explore counselling-related issues.
26 March 2007
Middlesbrough Institute of Modern Art: MIMA
Middlesbrough Institute of Modern Art (MIMA) is a new art gallery housed in a recently-completed building set in a magnificent square in the heart of Middlebrough town centre. The gallery cost £14.1 million, and the square £5.5 million. These are signiifcant sums of money for a town that carries an unremitting industrial reputation to spend on fine art and architecture.
I visited the gallery on a cold, breezy day in March, bright with sunlight, and was able to photograph both the gallery itself and some of the other buildings around the square. Photography of the inside of the building is permitted, but not of exhibitions. To view my photographs, follow this link:
Middlesbrough Institute of Modern Art
From the outside, and contrasted with the other buildings in the square, this grand building looks fittingly like a modern art gallery. Its box-like structure, somewhat reminiscent of Walsall's new art gallery, feels modern and contructed. Whilst the two side walls and the back wall are made of a glowing white material that could be limestone, conrete or rendered breeze blocks, the wall overlooking the square is mostly an immense expanse of glass recessed behind vertical steel cables. The main entrance is at the front of the building towards the right. Beside the main entrance, part of the wall is built from am ordered chaos of limestone blocks with all manner of different dressings. From this I took a message that paying attention to detail will yield results. This wall departed from the concept of minimal decoration and large flat areas. It also appeared immediately obvious that thought and attention have been given to the materials of which the building is made.
With its grand atrium from which all floors are visible but activities are hidden. the inside of the building feels a little like the inside of the Sage in Gateshead. The dark stone tiled floor feels pleasingly lavish. To the immediate right of the main entrance a tasteful cafe/restaurant occupies the right end of the ground floor. A staircase with wooden (oak?) bannister climbs diagonally from left to right in a barely-broken run from ground floor to third floor.
[Give details of the gallery spaces.]
On the day of my visit there was an exhibition of drawings in a variety of media. Most notable was the fact that there were a few works by some big names: Picasso, Pollock. The value of the exhibition, however, was the work of less-well-known artists [give details]. Perhaps one of my shortgcomings is that I value examining the drawings of an artist only once I am familiar with their work. I was disappointed not to view some of the paintings in the gallery's permanent collection. With this purpose in mind I intend to visit the gallery again soon.
[Give details of the square]
[Upload photographs of the square]
In summary, I visited Middlesbrough in order to see, examine and photograph a building, and also to view an exhibition. Although the exhibition did little for me, the building is very obviously a significant and valuable addition to the architecture of Middlesbrough town centre.
I visited the gallery on a cold, breezy day in March, bright with sunlight, and was able to photograph both the gallery itself and some of the other buildings around the square. Photography of the inside of the building is permitted, but not of exhibitions. To view my photographs, follow this link:
Middlesbrough Institute of Modern Art
From the outside, and contrasted with the other buildings in the square, this grand building looks fittingly like a modern art gallery. Its box-like structure, somewhat reminiscent of Walsall's new art gallery, feels modern and contructed. Whilst the two side walls and the back wall are made of a glowing white material that could be limestone, conrete or rendered breeze blocks, the wall overlooking the square is mostly an immense expanse of glass recessed behind vertical steel cables. The main entrance is at the front of the building towards the right. Beside the main entrance, part of the wall is built from am ordered chaos of limestone blocks with all manner of different dressings. From this I took a message that paying attention to detail will yield results. This wall departed from the concept of minimal decoration and large flat areas. It also appeared immediately obvious that thought and attention have been given to the materials of which the building is made.
With its grand atrium from which all floors are visible but activities are hidden. the inside of the building feels a little like the inside of the Sage in Gateshead. The dark stone tiled floor feels pleasingly lavish. To the immediate right of the main entrance a tasteful cafe/restaurant occupies the right end of the ground floor. A staircase with wooden (oak?) bannister climbs diagonally from left to right in a barely-broken run from ground floor to third floor.
[Give details of the gallery spaces.]
On the day of my visit there was an exhibition of drawings in a variety of media. Most notable was the fact that there were a few works by some big names: Picasso, Pollock. The value of the exhibition, however, was the work of less-well-known artists [give details]. Perhaps one of my shortgcomings is that I value examining the drawings of an artist only once I am familiar with their work. I was disappointed not to view some of the paintings in the gallery's permanent collection. With this purpose in mind I intend to visit the gallery again soon.
[Give details of the square]
[Upload photographs of the square]
In summary, I visited Middlesbrough in order to see, examine and photograph a building, and also to view an exhibition. Although the exhibition did little for me, the building is very obviously a significant and valuable addition to the architecture of Middlesbrough town centre.
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