Many people have an understandable tendency to want "new" things. New clothes, new car, new house (maybe even new spouse, but that is beyond the scope of this discussion). There are also those who tend to stick with the "old", but I suspect those who favor the "new" are a much larger group.
"New" has different meanings and different contexts. Primarily there is the question of "brand new" or "newly constructed" versus "new to you". With some things, like cars, our society tends to clearly differentiate between "new" -- cars that have had no previous owners -- and "used" -- even if the car was only driven a few miles by the previous owner. With something like a house, the distinction is not quite so absolute. If, for instance, a house was specifically constructed for another family, but they only lived there one day before selling it, it might be referred to as "new". In fact, ANY newly-acquired house might be referred to as "new". The distinction between "new" and "used" is more often applied to things smaller than houses.
A couple of special cases are "antiques" (and the closely related term "vintage") and "factory refurbished". I believe "factory refurbished" has been in common usage for only the last few decades. With "factory refurbished" items, the seller intentionally blurs the distinction between "new" and "used", often suggesting the item might have been previously owned but never used by the previous owner. Much of the appeal of "antiques" and "vintage" items comes from the idea that they ARE old and used, but sometimes unscrupulous people will attempt to pass off "new" or "newer" items as "antiques".
The real merits of "new" versus "used" vary with the specifics of the item. Sadly, there is often a trade-off. "New" items may have improvements upon older versions, but some of the improvements may involve using poorer materials to hold down the price, or short-cuts in the manufacturing process. Changes in materials, such as substituting plastic for metal, may improve a product by reducing weight, while at the same time making the product less durable. It all depends on the situation, and there is no way to accurately state whether "new" is "better" or "worse" in all situations.
This brings us back to the idea of personal bias. If someone already believes that "new" is "better", they may be unlikely to change their opinion even when confronted with ironclad facts, and the same is true of someone who believes that "old" is "better". Both groups may be able to cite factors to support their point of view.
I confess to a personal bias AGAINST things that are "new" -- partly just to oppose what I perceive to be an unfair general bias favoring the "new". Though I acknowledge that I am biased, in many cases I am fairly certain that the "old" possesses definite advantages. As a couple of examples, I cite roll-up non-electric automobile windows (which are more reliable and trouble-free than power windows, and usable even when the vehicle is totally without electrical power) and my Windows98 laptop computer, which automatically saves streaming audio as MP3 files, and makes it much easier to monitor any attempts by malware to alter the system than later versions of Windows. With both of these examples, I realize that the issue is complicated. There ARE advantages to automobile power windows, such as the driver being able to operate a window beyond their own reach. Later versions of Windows make various improvements upon Windows98. As I stated earlier, there is often a trade-off when it comes to "new" items.
The problems with "new" are especially prevalent in the world of technology, where products evolve rapidly. I recently considered replacing my digital camera. To be honest, I was considering this only because I was having mechanical problems with my camera. The new-camera salesman pointed out that I could purchase a technically-superior state-of-the-art camera for much less than I had originally paid for my camera. When I pointed out that none of the cameras I was being shown possessed optical viewfinders, the salesman replied that they were no longer included on cameras in my price range. Though optical viewfinders are still included on some cameras, they all cost hundreds of dollars more than my original camera. Somewhere, someone has decided that optical viewfinders are unimportant, or at least not as important as other features, such as a larger screen. I could write many pages regarding the fact that I consider optical viewfinders to be one of a digital camera's most important features. (By the way, Canon ended up repairing my camera for free.)
Especially with high-tech products, there is also the issue of familiarity -- though this issue is not limited to the world of technology. In addition to the simple comfort that familiarity can provide, there is often a learning curve associated with new products that negates their improvements, at least until the user becomes familiar with the new product. I must admit that the skill of the product developers comes into play here: When I eventually acquire a "new" digital camera, the ease of my transition from old to new will depend to a great extent on the design of the new camera.
Sadly, this is one of those issues where it may be difficult to find common ground between those who favor the "old" and those who favor the "new". If someone truly favors the "old", an attempt to incorporate "old" features into something "new" may seem like nothing more than an attempt to quiet their objections. I recently heard someone arguing in favor of tearing down an old building and replacing it with a brand-new one, and he suggested those who favored keeping the old building might be satisfied by embedding a few stones from the original building into a wall in the new building. At the same time, someone who truly believes "new" is better will not be satisfied by even the most thorough "updating" of the "old".
This brings up the fact that sometimes there are simply issues that divide people, with no clear compromises and no real solutions.
Truth is complicated.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Truth vs. Blame
Philosophers and theologians devote considerable energy to the subject of unfortunate events, and the question of why bad things happen. Sometimes, an event seems totally outside of human control or influence, and we can only question fate or God or other intangibles. Other times, people can entertain the idea that humans caused or at least could have had an impact on the unfortunate event -- whether or not this is actually the case. I might go so far as to suggest that many people seek to find specific humans to blame for tragedies, and somehow find comfort in the idea that the event was NOT a totally random act of providence.
When such a question arises in a hospital setting -- that is, when there is an unfortunate event that may have been influenced by humans -- many hospitals examine the event in the setting of a "Morbidity/Mortality" conference. While I suppose that each hospital may have their own variations on such conferences, a common, key feature of the "Morbidity/Mortality" conference is that it be totally, one hundred percent, guaranteed confidential, and in no way open to the public. The reason for this feature is that the underlying purpose of the conference is to seek the truth of what happened, and especially to determine whether anything can be done to improve the situation or to keep it from happening again. This becomes much more difficult, if not impossible, if we are at the same time attempting to assign blame or guilt. As long as no one fears being blamed for their actions, ideally each person can come forward with anything they may have done or not done which may have in any way contributed to the outcome of the event.
Now let's imagine that a beloved family member died while in the hospital, and you suspect someone on the hospital staff made an error that led to the death. It is predictable and understandable that you might want to assign blame, and even prosecute the "guilty" staff member. However, your family member is already dead, and there is nothing that can be done that will bring them back. If their death was indeed caused by an error on the part of a hospital staffer, the only thing that can be done that will actually preserve human health and wellness is to figure out what happened, and try to prevent it from happening again. This will be much more difficult if hospital staffers who may have done nothing wrong are afraid to step forward for fear of being found "guilty" of something. Ideally, everyone involved will want to seek the truth, and anyone who DID contribute to the negative outcome will fully come forward, but this is deeply contrary to human nature, especially if we only entertain vague suspicions that somehow we ourselves may have contributed negatively.
Theoretically, the processes of finding truth and assigning blame are not mutually exclusive. In fact, when full truth is known, then blame may perhaps be accurately assigned. The problem is that finding the full truth -- especially when that truth is complicated -- is best accomplished with honesty, open communication, and unbiased full revelation and examination of the facts, which is made difficult if not impossible by the attempt to assign or deflect blame, or to establish or deflect guilt.
Sometimes it is enough to assign blame or establish guilt without fully discerning the total truth of the situation. In the case of criminal activity, such as robbery or murder, probably the most important thing is to establish who is guilty, and punish them, without ever fully comprehending the subtle, complicated truths of the event in question. Other times, I question the underlying goals of a course of inquiry, and what it is we are truly trying to accomplish. I admit that my own bias often comes down in favor of finding truth rather than assigning blame.
One of the best examples of what I am discussing is the US government's "commission" and "hearings" to examine the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. I am generally quite proud to be an American. I cannot recall a time I was LESS proud to be an American than when observing the actions of the nine-eleven commission, which quickly degenerated into an attempt to assign blame, at the expense of ever finding the full truth. This was a case in which the two goals -- truth vs. blame -- were clearly mutually exclusive. Perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps in this case, assigning blame WAS more important than finding truth, but that is difficult for me to accept.
The subject of truth vs. blame involves a complicated relationship between the past and the future. For me, it often comes down to a question of focusing on the unchangeable past or the unfolding future. While I fully agree with the idea that "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it" (most commonly credited to George Santayana), those who choose to focus primarily on assigning blame are often willingly sacrificing their potential more full understanding of the past, limiting the knowledge with which they face future.
Another, more current, example involves the recent oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. As oil continues to gush into the ocean, with technicians on scene and experts throughout the world working for a way to stop the ongoing catastrophe, the US government is discussing the possibility of criminal prosecutions for wrongdoing. This may score some points politically, especially with those demanding that the government "do something" or "do more", but it is difficult to comprehend how it will help solve this or future problems. It is easy to comprehend the likelihood that criminal prosecutions, while possibly "sending a message" to future oil-drillers, will have the effect of obscuring the truth of what has happened, and making an unfortunate repeat of the event much more likely.
Truth is complicated. I certainly do not claim that one way is always "right" and the other way is always "wrong". I am merely stating that there is often a profound but overlooked difference between finding truth and establishing blame. When you or your loved ones have been wronged, it is fully understandable that your priority may be to punish the "guilty", and I cannot argue with that. Sometimes, though, we should consider the possibility that the most important thing may be finding the truth, and in order to do this we may have to sacrifice blame and punishment.
When such a question arises in a hospital setting -- that is, when there is an unfortunate event that may have been influenced by humans -- many hospitals examine the event in the setting of a "Morbidity/Mortality" conference. While I suppose that each hospital may have their own variations on such conferences, a common, key feature of the "Morbidity/Mortality" conference is that it be totally, one hundred percent, guaranteed confidential, and in no way open to the public. The reason for this feature is that the underlying purpose of the conference is to seek the truth of what happened, and especially to determine whether anything can be done to improve the situation or to keep it from happening again. This becomes much more difficult, if not impossible, if we are at the same time attempting to assign blame or guilt. As long as no one fears being blamed for their actions, ideally each person can come forward with anything they may have done or not done which may have in any way contributed to the outcome of the event.
Now let's imagine that a beloved family member died while in the hospital, and you suspect someone on the hospital staff made an error that led to the death. It is predictable and understandable that you might want to assign blame, and even prosecute the "guilty" staff member. However, your family member is already dead, and there is nothing that can be done that will bring them back. If their death was indeed caused by an error on the part of a hospital staffer, the only thing that can be done that will actually preserve human health and wellness is to figure out what happened, and try to prevent it from happening again. This will be much more difficult if hospital staffers who may have done nothing wrong are afraid to step forward for fear of being found "guilty" of something. Ideally, everyone involved will want to seek the truth, and anyone who DID contribute to the negative outcome will fully come forward, but this is deeply contrary to human nature, especially if we only entertain vague suspicions that somehow we ourselves may have contributed negatively.
Theoretically, the processes of finding truth and assigning blame are not mutually exclusive. In fact, when full truth is known, then blame may perhaps be accurately assigned. The problem is that finding the full truth -- especially when that truth is complicated -- is best accomplished with honesty, open communication, and unbiased full revelation and examination of the facts, which is made difficult if not impossible by the attempt to assign or deflect blame, or to establish or deflect guilt.
Sometimes it is enough to assign blame or establish guilt without fully discerning the total truth of the situation. In the case of criminal activity, such as robbery or murder, probably the most important thing is to establish who is guilty, and punish them, without ever fully comprehending the subtle, complicated truths of the event in question. Other times, I question the underlying goals of a course of inquiry, and what it is we are truly trying to accomplish. I admit that my own bias often comes down in favor of finding truth rather than assigning blame.
One of the best examples of what I am discussing is the US government's "commission" and "hearings" to examine the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. I am generally quite proud to be an American. I cannot recall a time I was LESS proud to be an American than when observing the actions of the nine-eleven commission, which quickly degenerated into an attempt to assign blame, at the expense of ever finding the full truth. This was a case in which the two goals -- truth vs. blame -- were clearly mutually exclusive. Perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps in this case, assigning blame WAS more important than finding truth, but that is difficult for me to accept.
The subject of truth vs. blame involves a complicated relationship between the past and the future. For me, it often comes down to a question of focusing on the unchangeable past or the unfolding future. While I fully agree with the idea that "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it" (most commonly credited to George Santayana), those who choose to focus primarily on assigning blame are often willingly sacrificing their potential more full understanding of the past, limiting the knowledge with which they face future.
Another, more current, example involves the recent oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. As oil continues to gush into the ocean, with technicians on scene and experts throughout the world working for a way to stop the ongoing catastrophe, the US government is discussing the possibility of criminal prosecutions for wrongdoing. This may score some points politically, especially with those demanding that the government "do something" or "do more", but it is difficult to comprehend how it will help solve this or future problems. It is easy to comprehend the likelihood that criminal prosecutions, while possibly "sending a message" to future oil-drillers, will have the effect of obscuring the truth of what has happened, and making an unfortunate repeat of the event much more likely.
Truth is complicated. I certainly do not claim that one way is always "right" and the other way is always "wrong". I am merely stating that there is often a profound but overlooked difference between finding truth and establishing blame. When you or your loved ones have been wronged, it is fully understandable that your priority may be to punish the "guilty", and I cannot argue with that. Sometimes, though, we should consider the possibility that the most important thing may be finding the truth, and in order to do this we may have to sacrifice blame and punishment.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Categories and Labels
I find the subject of "thought" and "learning" to be fascinating, but I have no particular expertise on the topic. One of the things that fascinates me about thought is that we are not necessarily aware of our own complicated thought processes. I wonder, for instance, to what extent language influences our thought processes. When someone is raised without a spoken or written language, does some sort of internal "language" just develop spontaneously in their own brain?
Keeping in mind that I claim no particular expertise on the subject of thought, I would guess that one of the most basic aspects of thought and learning is placing things into categories, comparing one thing with another thing. For example, each new object a creature encounters is evaluated for whether or not it presents an immediate threat or danger. Another example is the way babies amuse us by their frequent difficulty distinguishing "food" from "non-food".
Every day of our lives, we encounter objects or situations that we have never encountered before -- at least not the IDENTICAL object or situation. One of the ways that we cope with this potentially-overwhelming onslaught of new information is by recognizing the similarities between different things, and unconsciously assigning categories and labels. If I am walking along a sidewalk and encounter a garden hose, it does not particularly matter to me whether I have ever seen that identical garden hose before. I have encountered garden hoses before, and I immediately label it a "garden hose" and place it in the same mental category as other garden hoses. Unless it is being brandished in a menacing manner, I do not view it as a threat. Though it bears certain similarities to a snake, I do NOT place it in the same category as "snakes". I MAY place it in a similar category to the child's toy I encounter nearby ("stuff someone left out in their yard"), even though it bears little physical resemblance to the toy.
I can place the garden hose in an infinite number of potential categories, such as "hoses", "things I might trip over", "yard care implements", "sources of water", "round", "hardware store items" ... the number of potential categories truly is infinite. A crucial, oft-overlooked point is that the categories are something I am imposing on the garden hose, consciously or unconsciously. They are not attributes of the garden hose, though a garden hose can be categorized based on its attributes. I may place the garden hose in the category "made of rubber" when in fact it is made of plastic, and this error on my part may or may not be significant, but it has no effect on the make-up of the garden hose.
The categories that we use depend on a complicated blend of ourselves -- our own backgrounds and priorities, among other things -- and the particular situation. If we are looking for something to rescue someone fallen down a well, then rope, cable, and hose may all fall in the same category. "Things to siphon gasoline" is a completely different category, but overlaps on "hose".
It is one thing to categorize inanimate objects. Categorizing activities, relationships, or animate objects grows much more complicated. Among the additional difficulties is that these things may be constantly changing. The relationship between two people, for example, varies from moment to moment, and is constantly evolving. It may be accurate enough to state that people are "friends" or "spouses", but if we try to apply more specific categories, we may be in for trouble.
This brings up the separate but related issue of definitions and terminology. There are well-known issues with the terms "fruit" versus "vegetable". Many things that are scientifically considered "fruits" are often categorized as "vegetables". If I agree to bring a "fruit salad" to a picnic, and I show up with a blend of tomato, squash, and cucumber, I may cause concern among those expecting apples, oranges, and bananas. In this case, I would be scientifically correct, but probably out of the mainstream.
"Mainstream" categories probably never precisely match our personal categories, just as our personal definitions of words do not precisely match dictionary definitions. This can cause conflicts when our categories differ in crucial ways from those around us. The person who asked me to bring a "fruit salad" to the picnic may be very disappointed with my choice of fruits.
Categories and labels are necessary and helpful while also being dangerous and obstructive. Once we label something, we are mentally assigning attributes to this thing that it may not possess, while potentially overlooking or denying attributes that it DOES possess. Even if we categorize it correctly, and assign only the correct attributes, by the very act of placing it in a certain category, we are shaping how we will view that thing.
In this "digital" era, we try to reduce infinite variation into finite variation. There are virtually infinite variations of what humans perceive as "color." To "digitize" color, we represent each color by a different number. The more numbers we use, the more variations of color we can represent. For some purposes, it is enough to have eight or nine colors. Blue is blue, red is red. Real life, though, suffers no such restrictions on the number of observable colors.
In effect, we now try to "digitize" everything. Uncomfortable with infinite variation, we seek a limited number of alternatives. We place things in arbitrarily-defined categories based on our own previous experiences, and then grow agitated if they do not seem to precisely "fit" these categories. Many a musician has fallen out of favor for performing music outside of their "category." A "country" musician can be criticized for not being "country" enough. Several famous musicians are credited with making the observation, "There are only two kinds of music, good music and bad music." Music, and so much of our universe, defies being confined into precise categories.
Categories and labels are strictly ways of looking at things. There is no "best" way to look at something, though certain ways may be most effective or appropriate for certain situations. While there is no "right" category or label, they can be "wrong", though sometimes, as in the case of fruits and vegetables, even "right" and "wrong" depend on the specifics of the situation.
Truth is complicated.
Keeping in mind that I claim no particular expertise on the subject of thought, I would guess that one of the most basic aspects of thought and learning is placing things into categories, comparing one thing with another thing. For example, each new object a creature encounters is evaluated for whether or not it presents an immediate threat or danger. Another example is the way babies amuse us by their frequent difficulty distinguishing "food" from "non-food".
Every day of our lives, we encounter objects or situations that we have never encountered before -- at least not the IDENTICAL object or situation. One of the ways that we cope with this potentially-overwhelming onslaught of new information is by recognizing the similarities between different things, and unconsciously assigning categories and labels. If I am walking along a sidewalk and encounter a garden hose, it does not particularly matter to me whether I have ever seen that identical garden hose before. I have encountered garden hoses before, and I immediately label it a "garden hose" and place it in the same mental category as other garden hoses. Unless it is being brandished in a menacing manner, I do not view it as a threat. Though it bears certain similarities to a snake, I do NOT place it in the same category as "snakes". I MAY place it in a similar category to the child's toy I encounter nearby ("stuff someone left out in their yard"), even though it bears little physical resemblance to the toy.
I can place the garden hose in an infinite number of potential categories, such as "hoses", "things I might trip over", "yard care implements", "sources of water", "round", "hardware store items" ... the number of potential categories truly is infinite. A crucial, oft-overlooked point is that the categories are something I am imposing on the garden hose, consciously or unconsciously. They are not attributes of the garden hose, though a garden hose can be categorized based on its attributes. I may place the garden hose in the category "made of rubber" when in fact it is made of plastic, and this error on my part may or may not be significant, but it has no effect on the make-up of the garden hose.
The categories that we use depend on a complicated blend of ourselves -- our own backgrounds and priorities, among other things -- and the particular situation. If we are looking for something to rescue someone fallen down a well, then rope, cable, and hose may all fall in the same category. "Things to siphon gasoline" is a completely different category, but overlaps on "hose".
It is one thing to categorize inanimate objects. Categorizing activities, relationships, or animate objects grows much more complicated. Among the additional difficulties is that these things may be constantly changing. The relationship between two people, for example, varies from moment to moment, and is constantly evolving. It may be accurate enough to state that people are "friends" or "spouses", but if we try to apply more specific categories, we may be in for trouble.
This brings up the separate but related issue of definitions and terminology. There are well-known issues with the terms "fruit" versus "vegetable". Many things that are scientifically considered "fruits" are often categorized as "vegetables". If I agree to bring a "fruit salad" to a picnic, and I show up with a blend of tomato, squash, and cucumber, I may cause concern among those expecting apples, oranges, and bananas. In this case, I would be scientifically correct, but probably out of the mainstream.
"Mainstream" categories probably never precisely match our personal categories, just as our personal definitions of words do not precisely match dictionary definitions. This can cause conflicts when our categories differ in crucial ways from those around us. The person who asked me to bring a "fruit salad" to the picnic may be very disappointed with my choice of fruits.
Categories and labels are necessary and helpful while also being dangerous and obstructive. Once we label something, we are mentally assigning attributes to this thing that it may not possess, while potentially overlooking or denying attributes that it DOES possess. Even if we categorize it correctly, and assign only the correct attributes, by the very act of placing it in a certain category, we are shaping how we will view that thing.
In this "digital" era, we try to reduce infinite variation into finite variation. There are virtually infinite variations of what humans perceive as "color." To "digitize" color, we represent each color by a different number. The more numbers we use, the more variations of color we can represent. For some purposes, it is enough to have eight or nine colors. Blue is blue, red is red. Real life, though, suffers no such restrictions on the number of observable colors.
In effect, we now try to "digitize" everything. Uncomfortable with infinite variation, we seek a limited number of alternatives. We place things in arbitrarily-defined categories based on our own previous experiences, and then grow agitated if they do not seem to precisely "fit" these categories. Many a musician has fallen out of favor for performing music outside of their "category." A "country" musician can be criticized for not being "country" enough. Several famous musicians are credited with making the observation, "There are only two kinds of music, good music and bad music." Music, and so much of our universe, defies being confined into precise categories.
Categories and labels are strictly ways of looking at things. There is no "best" way to look at something, though certain ways may be most effective or appropriate for certain situations. While there is no "right" category or label, they can be "wrong", though sometimes, as in the case of fruits and vegetables, even "right" and "wrong" depend on the specifics of the situation.
Truth is complicated.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Damages
I recently read an article on the World Wide Web regarding an incident which has led to a lawsuit. ALL I know about the incident is what I read in the article, and I do not know any of the people involved, whether the article is accurate, or whether perhaps it is all fiction. Regardless of the details or truth of the article, it raises some profound issues.
According to the article, a twelve-year-old was writing on her school desktop -- that is, writing directly on the desk (the article calls it "doodling") -- "with erasable green marker" and as a consequence was forcibly taken to "the dean's office" and searched before the police were summoned to arrest her. The police handcuffed her, took her to the precinct headquarters and detained her there, "handcuffed to a pole for more than two hours."
The article does not say exactly what happened next, but apparently she was released, eventually suspended from school, and "given eight hours of community service and ordered to write a book report and an essay about what she learned from the experience."
Later, "New York City officials acknowledged Gonzalez's arrest was a mistake." Now, the student and her mother are "suing the New York City Education Department and the New York Police Department for $1 million in damages, claiming excessive use of force and violation of the girl's rights in the ordeal, which Comacho has called a "nightmare.""
As I have already stated, ALL of my information comes from this one article, and I have no reason to believe it is totally accurate, but for the purpose of this discussion I will consider the entire situation hypothetical, and therefore exactly as I have just described it. Even in this oversimplified form, the issue is complicated.
Thoughtful, rational, intelligent people might have a full range of reactions to this incident. Some would say the student got what she deserved, or possibly should have been punished more severely. Probably more would agree that the authorities overreacted. Some might argue that the student deserves even more monetary compensation than one million dollars.
I am honestly not sure where I stand on this issue, but I am deeply troubled about the source of the million dollars sought by the student and her mother. Under our present system, any money that they receive is unlikely to come directly from any of the individuals involved. IF the money comes from "the New York City Education Department and the New York Police Department" then it is actually coming from taxpayers and the various sources of funding for those two departments. More likely, the money would come from insurance policies, in which case it is coming from a wider pool, and in a sense, from ALL of us. Either way, the money would be coming from a large number of individuals uninvolved with the case. One can argue that this is an abstraction, or irrelevant, but it remains true.
No matter how badly the student was mistreated by school officials and/or police, it is hard for me to accept the idea that she now deserves a million dollars from the rest of us -- and the money would indeed be coming from the rest of us. If instead the student and her mother were demanding that individuals involved in the case be reprimanded, fired, or personally punished in some other way, I could not argue -- but instead they are asking for a big chunk of cash from the rest of us.
There are those who would argue that the student has been deeply scarred by the experience, and for that I am willing to offer her an apology from all of society -- but not one million dollars. (I do not really see how a million dollars is going to un-scar her, though perhaps it would pay for therapy, if she chose to use it for that purpose.) Others will argue that the amount needs to be that large to "send a message"; to make the individuals involved reflect upon their misdeeds. I am unconvinced that this is effective, since the money is actually coming from a vast pool of individuals ... BUT, if this is truly the case, then perhaps I would be willing to have a million dollar fine imposed, but paid to some worthy charity or perhaps used to reduce the national debt. This would still "send a message" but it would not personally enrich the student and her mother at MY expense.
Finally, there are those who would argue that the money is coming from SUCH a vast pool that the effect on me personally is insignificant, and therefore I have no right to object. In a world with finite and dwindling resources, and many people in hardship, I cannot accept this idea. Even pennies add up, and millions add up more quickly.
This is the way I view most large monetary damage awards. For those who are truly deserving of a large financial settlement, I suggest we set up a system where anyone who wishes to contribute can do so. This student and her mother might end up with considerably MORE than a million dollars, which would be fine by me, as long as the money is contributed voluntarily. I am willing to offer sympathy, and I have no problem with punishing those who wronged you, but unless you can make the case that YOUR loss entitles you to MY money, keep your hands out of MY pockets!
According to the article, a twelve-year-old was writing on her school desktop -- that is, writing directly on the desk (the article calls it "doodling") -- "with erasable green marker" and as a consequence was forcibly taken to "the dean's office" and searched before the police were summoned to arrest her. The police handcuffed her, took her to the precinct headquarters and detained her there, "handcuffed to a pole for more than two hours."
The article does not say exactly what happened next, but apparently she was released, eventually suspended from school, and "given eight hours of community service and ordered to write a book report and an essay about what she learned from the experience."
Later, "New York City officials acknowledged Gonzalez's arrest was a mistake." Now, the student and her mother are "suing the New York City Education Department and the New York Police Department for $1 million in damages, claiming excessive use of force and violation of the girl's rights in the ordeal, which Comacho has called a "nightmare.""
As I have already stated, ALL of my information comes from this one article, and I have no reason to believe it is totally accurate, but for the purpose of this discussion I will consider the entire situation hypothetical, and therefore exactly as I have just described it. Even in this oversimplified form, the issue is complicated.
Thoughtful, rational, intelligent people might have a full range of reactions to this incident. Some would say the student got what she deserved, or possibly should have been punished more severely. Probably more would agree that the authorities overreacted. Some might argue that the student deserves even more monetary compensation than one million dollars.
I am honestly not sure where I stand on this issue, but I am deeply troubled about the source of the million dollars sought by the student and her mother. Under our present system, any money that they receive is unlikely to come directly from any of the individuals involved. IF the money comes from "the New York City Education Department and the New York Police Department" then it is actually coming from taxpayers and the various sources of funding for those two departments. More likely, the money would come from insurance policies, in which case it is coming from a wider pool, and in a sense, from ALL of us. Either way, the money would be coming from a large number of individuals uninvolved with the case. One can argue that this is an abstraction, or irrelevant, but it remains true.
No matter how badly the student was mistreated by school officials and/or police, it is hard for me to accept the idea that she now deserves a million dollars from the rest of us -- and the money would indeed be coming from the rest of us. If instead the student and her mother were demanding that individuals involved in the case be reprimanded, fired, or personally punished in some other way, I could not argue -- but instead they are asking for a big chunk of cash from the rest of us.
There are those who would argue that the student has been deeply scarred by the experience, and for that I am willing to offer her an apology from all of society -- but not one million dollars. (I do not really see how a million dollars is going to un-scar her, though perhaps it would pay for therapy, if she chose to use it for that purpose.) Others will argue that the amount needs to be that large to "send a message"; to make the individuals involved reflect upon their misdeeds. I am unconvinced that this is effective, since the money is actually coming from a vast pool of individuals ... BUT, if this is truly the case, then perhaps I would be willing to have a million dollar fine imposed, but paid to some worthy charity or perhaps used to reduce the national debt. This would still "send a message" but it would not personally enrich the student and her mother at MY expense.
Finally, there are those who would argue that the money is coming from SUCH a vast pool that the effect on me personally is insignificant, and therefore I have no right to object. In a world with finite and dwindling resources, and many people in hardship, I cannot accept this idea. Even pennies add up, and millions add up more quickly.
This is the way I view most large monetary damage awards. For those who are truly deserving of a large financial settlement, I suggest we set up a system where anyone who wishes to contribute can do so. This student and her mother might end up with considerably MORE than a million dollars, which would be fine by me, as long as the money is contributed voluntarily. I am willing to offer sympathy, and I have no problem with punishing those who wronged you, but unless you can make the case that YOUR loss entitles you to MY money, keep your hands out of MY pockets!
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Inches
In previous entries I have mentioned sports metaphors, while acknowledging my overall lack of skill and knowledge regarding most sports.
One of my favorite sports metaphors is "a game of inches", which I am pretty sure refers to football. Basically (and this is a huge oversimplification) the entire object of football is for one team to move the ball one hundred yards, against the other team which is striving to keep them from accomplishing this. Although the football field is over one hundred yards long, sometimes the teams find themselves in a situation in which a few inches will make the difference between success and failure. Officials may stop the game to take measurements to determine which team has been successful.
I am gradually becoming more and more convinced that much of life is "a game of inches" -- that the difference between happiness and unhappiness often comes down to inches rather than miles, or seconds rather than years, or pennies rather than dollars. Depending on how you look at it, this can be an uncomfortable philosophy.
Once in high school track, I lost a two-mile footrace -- in that case, a race lasting over eleven minutes -- by a fraction of a second. For the rest of my life, I have been haunted by the idea that if I had done something slightly differently, or tried slightly harder, I could have won that race. In some ways, it would be easier to believe that my opponent was simply faster, or having a better day, and I could not possibly have won -- but that does not seem to be the case.
When we fail to achieve a goal, it is often tempting to believe that the odds were somehow stacked against us and failure was almost certain, rather than that we came ever-so-close to succeeding, especially if the lack of success involves some tiny failing on our part.
This is perhaps even more true when it involves our effect on other people, and their effect on us. In an episode of the fictional sitcom "Becker", Becker asks to borrow a number two pencil from another student shortly after beginning an important written exam. The student, distracted by the request, miss-marks most of his answer sheet, fails the exam, and, as a direct consequence, is not admitted to medical school, and follows a different career path for the rest of his life. You can argue that the student SHOULD have been more careful, or SHOULD have re-taken the exam in the future, or somehow risen above the obstacle Becker placed in his path, but the (fictional) fact remains that if Becker had NOT asked for the pencil, the student's life would have unfolded in a different direction.
The "Becker" episode is a fictional example, but illustrates something that can and does happen in real life, probably more often than we can ever know. It is not comfortable to realize that we can dramatically alter either our own lives or the lives of others by something as minor as asking to borrow a pencil, and I am sure that many people would voice strong objections to the idea. To be fair, the Becker example is somewhat negative, while a small thing might also have a positive effect.
It is tempting to give credit or blame to "luck" or "fate" in the cases of small things having large impacts. Most collisions between automobiles would not have occurred if either vehicle had been at a slightly different location or at a slightly different time or under other slightly different circumstances. The fact that they did occur was "bad luck". At the same time, many collisions between automobiles involve predictable problems and preventable risks -- a drunk or otherwise distracted driver, or perhaps someone running late and speeding because someone had asked them for a number two pencil.
Real life is complicated. In real life, everything that happens involves a web of an infinite number of factors. Sometimes we can give credit or blame to one obvious factor, such as a particular act of valor changing the course of a battle. More often, success or failure depends on a multitude of factors both large and small, and changing any one of them might change the outcome. Without a time machine, we can never be certain what effect any change would have produced (though we can have hypothetical discussions, run computer simulations, and otherwise engage in speculation).
I could give other examples of seemingly insignificant things having large effects, but, as I have stated, this is an uncomfortable idea, and will always produce a certain amount of resistance. Especially, it is uncomfortable to accept that something very small we have or have not done has had a large negative effect on ourselves or someone else. In the case of someone else, we refuse to acknowledge that their problem is our fault -- they should have been able to overcome the tiny problem we threw at them. In the case of ourselves, it seems preferable to blame outside forces, or overwhelming forces.
I realize that I am simultaneously arguing that we are reluctant to admit the large negative impact we may have on others, while arguing that many of our own problems that we blame on others are in fact due to small failings on our own part. This may seem inconsistent. Furthermore, I am largely ignoring the small things that have a large positive impact.
Truth is complicated.
One of my favorite sports metaphors is "a game of inches", which I am pretty sure refers to football. Basically (and this is a huge oversimplification) the entire object of football is for one team to move the ball one hundred yards, against the other team which is striving to keep them from accomplishing this. Although the football field is over one hundred yards long, sometimes the teams find themselves in a situation in which a few inches will make the difference between success and failure. Officials may stop the game to take measurements to determine which team has been successful.
I am gradually becoming more and more convinced that much of life is "a game of inches" -- that the difference between happiness and unhappiness often comes down to inches rather than miles, or seconds rather than years, or pennies rather than dollars. Depending on how you look at it, this can be an uncomfortable philosophy.
Once in high school track, I lost a two-mile footrace -- in that case, a race lasting over eleven minutes -- by a fraction of a second. For the rest of my life, I have been haunted by the idea that if I had done something slightly differently, or tried slightly harder, I could have won that race. In some ways, it would be easier to believe that my opponent was simply faster, or having a better day, and I could not possibly have won -- but that does not seem to be the case.
When we fail to achieve a goal, it is often tempting to believe that the odds were somehow stacked against us and failure was almost certain, rather than that we came ever-so-close to succeeding, especially if the lack of success involves some tiny failing on our part.
This is perhaps even more true when it involves our effect on other people, and their effect on us. In an episode of the fictional sitcom "Becker", Becker asks to borrow a number two pencil from another student shortly after beginning an important written exam. The student, distracted by the request, miss-marks most of his answer sheet, fails the exam, and, as a direct consequence, is not admitted to medical school, and follows a different career path for the rest of his life. You can argue that the student SHOULD have been more careful, or SHOULD have re-taken the exam in the future, or somehow risen above the obstacle Becker placed in his path, but the (fictional) fact remains that if Becker had NOT asked for the pencil, the student's life would have unfolded in a different direction.
The "Becker" episode is a fictional example, but illustrates something that can and does happen in real life, probably more often than we can ever know. It is not comfortable to realize that we can dramatically alter either our own lives or the lives of others by something as minor as asking to borrow a pencil, and I am sure that many people would voice strong objections to the idea. To be fair, the Becker example is somewhat negative, while a small thing might also have a positive effect.
It is tempting to give credit or blame to "luck" or "fate" in the cases of small things having large impacts. Most collisions between automobiles would not have occurred if either vehicle had been at a slightly different location or at a slightly different time or under other slightly different circumstances. The fact that they did occur was "bad luck". At the same time, many collisions between automobiles involve predictable problems and preventable risks -- a drunk or otherwise distracted driver, or perhaps someone running late and speeding because someone had asked them for a number two pencil.
Real life is complicated. In real life, everything that happens involves a web of an infinite number of factors. Sometimes we can give credit or blame to one obvious factor, such as a particular act of valor changing the course of a battle. More often, success or failure depends on a multitude of factors both large and small, and changing any one of them might change the outcome. Without a time machine, we can never be certain what effect any change would have produced (though we can have hypothetical discussions, run computer simulations, and otherwise engage in speculation).
I could give other examples of seemingly insignificant things having large effects, but, as I have stated, this is an uncomfortable idea, and will always produce a certain amount of resistance. Especially, it is uncomfortable to accept that something very small we have or have not done has had a large negative effect on ourselves or someone else. In the case of someone else, we refuse to acknowledge that their problem is our fault -- they should have been able to overcome the tiny problem we threw at them. In the case of ourselves, it seems preferable to blame outside forces, or overwhelming forces.
I realize that I am simultaneously arguing that we are reluctant to admit the large negative impact we may have on others, while arguing that many of our own problems that we blame on others are in fact due to small failings on our own part. This may seem inconsistent. Furthermore, I am largely ignoring the small things that have a large positive impact.
Truth is complicated.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
March
Every now and then, in a newspaper comic strip, the characters in the comic will notice, acknowledge, or otherwise deal with the fact that they ARE characters in a newspaper comic strip. They might climb up the frame at the edge of a panel, gaze across at some other comic strip, or simply make a comment acknowledging the fact that they are comic strip characters drawn by someone else, with no independent existence. A week or two ago, Beetle Bailey addressed complaints about his lines directly to "Mort", the writer of the comic strip. (I realize that I am making these statements as though the characters DID have some sort of independent existence or at least free will. Bear with me.) I generally enjoy this phenomenon.
I am unaware of any character in a book ever expressing awareness that they are simply characters in a book, but I suppose it has happened. There have definitely been cases of TV and movie characters expressing awareness of their setting, and sometimes interacting with or even attempting to break free. (Again, I am writing as if the characters existed outside of the writers, directors, actors and whatever, but I am still leading to a point.)
There is a relationship between form and content that we often strive or desire to keep hidden. A well-done book or television show or movie (or perhaps even comic strip) can make someone feel that it is real, and they are experiencing the experiences themselves, rather than merely reading or viewing something. Other times, such as when comic strip characters become aware of their surroundings on the newspaper page, the results can be quite interesting, amusing, or enjoyable.
Much of my personal artistic experience has been as an instrumental musician. Often, musicians must do their best to ignore the setting, and what may be going on around them, and focus on the music. Other times, interacting with the listeners may be a very important component of the performance.
This all leads me to the subject of this still-evolving blog. Up to this point, this blog has not been intended to be a journal of my day-to-day existence. In fact, most of the entries so far have been totally unrelated to day-to-day activities, concentrating instead on general ideas. I also have tried not to pay much attention to the fact that this IS a "blog". For that matter, a major purpose of this blog so far is for ME to better understand the entire concept of "blogging". Incidentally, at some point I will probably have to deal with the fact that since I do not tell anyone about this blog, nor post anything about it anywhere, I suspect it gets very, very few visitors -- though as far as I can tell, there has been ONE legitimate "comment", from a REAL person. For now, I am fine with the lack of blog traffic (though since I am already talking about comic strips, I must admit that over the past few weeks I have noticed that Jon in "Garfield" has been writing a blog, and a big part of the joke is that no one reads it).
So here I am, like Beetle Bailey, admitting that I am aware that this IS a blog rather than just a collection of ideas, AND realizing that the blog is not totally isolated from my real life. Specifically, I realize that I have not posted much yet in 2010, and not AT ALL during the month of March 2010. There is a complicated mix of reasons for the lack of posting, including things as simple as computer problems. Most of the other reasons result in a general lack of time. Though the time situation is still pretty bad, I am going to try to get back to posting more regularly -- at least once a week.
Notice how I am writing this as if someone is actually going to be READING it? Truth is complicated.
I am unaware of any character in a book ever expressing awareness that they are simply characters in a book, but I suppose it has happened. There have definitely been cases of TV and movie characters expressing awareness of their setting, and sometimes interacting with or even attempting to break free. (Again, I am writing as if the characters existed outside of the writers, directors, actors and whatever, but I am still leading to a point.)
There is a relationship between form and content that we often strive or desire to keep hidden. A well-done book or television show or movie (or perhaps even comic strip) can make someone feel that it is real, and they are experiencing the experiences themselves, rather than merely reading or viewing something. Other times, such as when comic strip characters become aware of their surroundings on the newspaper page, the results can be quite interesting, amusing, or enjoyable.
Much of my personal artistic experience has been as an instrumental musician. Often, musicians must do their best to ignore the setting, and what may be going on around them, and focus on the music. Other times, interacting with the listeners may be a very important component of the performance.
This all leads me to the subject of this still-evolving blog. Up to this point, this blog has not been intended to be a journal of my day-to-day existence. In fact, most of the entries so far have been totally unrelated to day-to-day activities, concentrating instead on general ideas. I also have tried not to pay much attention to the fact that this IS a "blog". For that matter, a major purpose of this blog so far is for ME to better understand the entire concept of "blogging". Incidentally, at some point I will probably have to deal with the fact that since I do not tell anyone about this blog, nor post anything about it anywhere, I suspect it gets very, very few visitors -- though as far as I can tell, there has been ONE legitimate "comment", from a REAL person. For now, I am fine with the lack of blog traffic (though since I am already talking about comic strips, I must admit that over the past few weeks I have noticed that Jon in "Garfield" has been writing a blog, and a big part of the joke is that no one reads it).
So here I am, like Beetle Bailey, admitting that I am aware that this IS a blog rather than just a collection of ideas, AND realizing that the blog is not totally isolated from my real life. Specifically, I realize that I have not posted much yet in 2010, and not AT ALL during the month of March 2010. There is a complicated mix of reasons for the lack of posting, including things as simple as computer problems. Most of the other reasons result in a general lack of time. Though the time situation is still pretty bad, I am going to try to get back to posting more regularly -- at least once a week.
Notice how I am writing this as if someone is actually going to be READING it? Truth is complicated.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Taxes
Mid-April is the traditional deadline for citizens of the United States of America to file their income tax returns.
On a philosophical level, I accept that if people choose to live together under governments, their government is probably going to require some sort of funding. Whether our specific system is good, or even tolerable, remains an open question. I also have a multitude of questions about the specific ways our government chooses to spend MY money.
In April, though, my most pressing tax complaints are simply procedural. Specifically, I find it abhorrent that the government requires me to keep financial records -- or for that matter, ANY records. If the government wants to send me a bill and demand that I pay it, fine. To require ME to keep a detailed accounting of my financial records, and then submit it to the government, to me smacks of self-incrimination, adding insult to injury, and a form of torture. I realize that many, perhaps most, Americans do not give this much thought, or just assume our government has a right to require us to keep records. This, to me, is frightening.
Another thing that frightens me is that many Americans focus on the April pleasure of receiving a tax "refund". An income tax refund is actually YOUR money that the government was wrong to have possessed in the first place, but many people view it as a sort of "gift" from their generous government. I suppose there is something to be said for "looking at the positive", but the money was rightfully yours all along, and the government is just giving it back.
In the interest of philosophical completeness, I guess I should mention that there are a lot of frightening things about taxes. People who question the legality of the current federal income tax are often viewed with ridicule, yet even casual study of the issues involved reveals there are at least some legitimate questions regarding the IRS. While it is true that the legality of the IRS has been upheld in various court cases, courts have often used logic along the lines of: We have had the IRS for quite awhile, and it is really important, therefore it is legal, regardless of what the Constitution might say. Not exactly the most convincing argument in favor of the legality of our current tax code.
I honestly did not intend for this to be a rant about current politics, but I must also mention that with our politicians currently in power in a mood to spend money like drunken sailors -- and they will be spending OUR money, since there is no such thing as "government money" -- they will need to come up with more and more money to pay their bills. Frightening.
On a philosophical level, I accept that if people choose to live together under governments, their government is probably going to require some sort of funding. Whether our specific system is good, or even tolerable, remains an open question. I also have a multitude of questions about the specific ways our government chooses to spend MY money.
In April, though, my most pressing tax complaints are simply procedural. Specifically, I find it abhorrent that the government requires me to keep financial records -- or for that matter, ANY records. If the government wants to send me a bill and demand that I pay it, fine. To require ME to keep a detailed accounting of my financial records, and then submit it to the government, to me smacks of self-incrimination, adding insult to injury, and a form of torture. I realize that many, perhaps most, Americans do not give this much thought, or just assume our government has a right to require us to keep records. This, to me, is frightening.
Another thing that frightens me is that many Americans focus on the April pleasure of receiving a tax "refund". An income tax refund is actually YOUR money that the government was wrong to have possessed in the first place, but many people view it as a sort of "gift" from their generous government. I suppose there is something to be said for "looking at the positive", but the money was rightfully yours all along, and the government is just giving it back.
In the interest of philosophical completeness, I guess I should mention that there are a lot of frightening things about taxes. People who question the legality of the current federal income tax are often viewed with ridicule, yet even casual study of the issues involved reveals there are at least some legitimate questions regarding the IRS. While it is true that the legality of the IRS has been upheld in various court cases, courts have often used logic along the lines of: We have had the IRS for quite awhile, and it is really important, therefore it is legal, regardless of what the Constitution might say. Not exactly the most convincing argument in favor of the legality of our current tax code.
I honestly did not intend for this to be a rant about current politics, but I must also mention that with our politicians currently in power in a mood to spend money like drunken sailors -- and they will be spending OUR money, since there is no such thing as "government money" -- they will need to come up with more and more money to pay their bills. Frightening.
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