Thursday, June 12, 2008
Notes on the last post
Just a thought: I feel some people may think that I come across as a little self-righteous in the last post. As far as my thoughts on proclaimed liberals who use cocaine go, I submit that that's impossible. However, one could argue that I am a hypocrite just by my very existence as a citizen of and consumer in the United States. This is not entirely unfair as I'm sure all of us are indirectly responsible for some, if not many, deaths simply because we live in this country. The most important part of Blood Diamond is, I think, when Leonardo DiCaprio's character tells Jennifer Connelly's that despite her motives and intentions, she is also complicit in the violence simply because she writes for a magazine in which the diamond industry advertises. One of the goals of this blog is to figure out how we can avoid such traps (as well as hopefully discover other hypocrisies or inconsistencies I'm guilty of). But while the connection between buying a ring and someone's death is usually difficult to make or understand, the connection between using cocaine and the terror that has gripped Mexico is not.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Hypocrisy and the Real World
If you really want to insult my character, call me a hypocrite. It is, I believe, one of the worst charges that can be levied against someone. And I'm not taking about the "Do as I say, not as I do" variety of hypocrisy. Though lighting up a cigarette while telling someone smoking is bad is in fact stupid, there's something approaching noble about being able to publicly acknowledge your own faults while trying to prevent others from copying them.
Needing to find focus for this post, I turned to Merriam-Webster for some help. I was surprised to find that these gents provided me with not one but two definitions for hypocrite. One is what I think is usually invoked by the term: "a person who acts in contradiction to his or her stated beliefs or feelings." The other is, I believe, much worse: "a person who puts on a false appearance of virtue or religion." For the sake of this post, I consider this definition an extension of the first. Both involve actions that contradict a professed idea, (how else could the 'appearance' be 'false') but the second distinguishes from a "belief" - which could be as trifling as some old proverb someone is fond of repeating - and "virtue or religion": a way of life, or an entire system of beliefs. The first definition is fleeting and limited: a person is a hypocrite about something; whereas the second is a permanent indictment: a person is a hypocrite.
So where am I going with this? Actually, it's taken me three days to figure it out. I think I'm going to talk about two examples of hypocrisy: the first will be uncharacteristically specific; the second will be of the usual general persuasion.
Something that's bothered me a lot lately (it came up again recently in a conversation with a friend) is the pervasive abuse of cocaine at Dartmouth and likely many other residential learning institutions (last month's massive drug raid at San Diego State University, anyone?) Here's the thing: thousands of murders each year are directly related to the trafficking of cocaine from South and Central America to the United States. An entire town in Mexico has been turned into a literal war zone and been held hostage by trafficking-related violence in recent months. All of this means that depending on their location and the length of their supply chain, cocaine users are inevitably and invariably separated no more than a few degrees from someone's murder. That's not to mention their complicity in contributing to the fear that has gripped many of Mexico's innocents, like those in Villa Ahumada, a small town just 85 miles south of the US border.
Cocaine users are more than just associates to murder. The fact that many of them consider themselves politically and socially liberal makes them hypocrites. They'll rail for universal health care and an end to the war in Iraq (presumably because innocent people are needlessly dying), but not give a damn that their habit is turning Mexico into 1980's Colombia. This contradiction shows their projected liberal persona to be nothing but a "false appearance of virtue or religion." They are selfish and weak, and their overwhelming feelings of entitlement and complacency with their own hypocrisy are frankly sickening. I am increasingly saddened and frustrated that I share an alma mater with many of them. I would honestly rather someone profess to not give a damn about people and have a coke habit than claim - often with ostentatious gestures - to care, then turn around and put the figurative ashes of a Mexican law enforcement officer up his nose.
Part II of this post tomorrow.
Needing to find focus for this post, I turned to Merriam-Webster for some help. I was surprised to find that these gents provided me with not one but two definitions for hypocrite. One is what I think is usually invoked by the term: "a person who acts in contradiction to his or her stated beliefs or feelings." The other is, I believe, much worse: "a person who puts on a false appearance of virtue or religion." For the sake of this post, I consider this definition an extension of the first. Both involve actions that contradict a professed idea, (how else could the 'appearance' be 'false') but the second distinguishes from a "belief" - which could be as trifling as some old proverb someone is fond of repeating - and "virtue or religion": a way of life, or an entire system of beliefs. The first definition is fleeting and limited: a person is a hypocrite about something; whereas the second is a permanent indictment: a person is a hypocrite.
So where am I going with this? Actually, it's taken me three days to figure it out. I think I'm going to talk about two examples of hypocrisy: the first will be uncharacteristically specific; the second will be of the usual general persuasion.
Something that's bothered me a lot lately (it came up again recently in a conversation with a friend) is the pervasive abuse of cocaine at Dartmouth and likely many other residential learning institutions (last month's massive drug raid at San Diego State University, anyone?) Here's the thing: thousands of murders each year are directly related to the trafficking of cocaine from South and Central America to the United States. An entire town in Mexico has been turned into a literal war zone and been held hostage by trafficking-related violence in recent months. All of this means that depending on their location and the length of their supply chain, cocaine users are inevitably and invariably separated no more than a few degrees from someone's murder. That's not to mention their complicity in contributing to the fear that has gripped many of Mexico's innocents, like those in Villa Ahumada, a small town just 85 miles south of the US border.
Cocaine users are more than just associates to murder. The fact that many of them consider themselves politically and socially liberal makes them hypocrites. They'll rail for universal health care and an end to the war in Iraq (presumably because innocent people are needlessly dying), but not give a damn that their habit is turning Mexico into 1980's Colombia. This contradiction shows their projected liberal persona to be nothing but a "false appearance of virtue or religion." They are selfish and weak, and their overwhelming feelings of entitlement and complacency with their own hypocrisy are frankly sickening. I am increasingly saddened and frustrated that I share an alma mater with many of them. I would honestly rather someone profess to not give a damn about people and have a coke habit than claim - often with ostentatious gestures - to care, then turn around and put the figurative ashes of a Mexican law enforcement officer up his nose.
Part II of this post tomorrow.
An aside
After being up at Dartmouth this past weekend for Commencement I find it appropriate to thank my French host mom from last winter, Miki, for giving me a copy of Le Petit Prince. It's always a help in times like these: J'y gagne, dit le renard, à cause de la couleur du blé.
The Little Prince, by the way, may just be the most appropriate book for this blog. If it were any way possible, I would make it required reading for the entire world.
The Little Prince, by the way, may just be the most appropriate book for this blog. If it were any way possible, I would make it required reading for the entire world.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Happiness I
Just a question - is it possible that something can make us happier while we're using/experiencing it, but not happier overall? For instance, if I were to buy a new Mac because it's great for photo editing (and I like photo editing... or really, digital art), I'm sure I would be very happy using it. But would it actually contribute to my overall happiness? The kind of happiness that you get asked about in a survey: "On a scale of 1 to 10, how happy do you think you are?" If it doesn't contribute to that kind of happiness, but the amount of time I spent at work to be able to afford the computer made me unhappy in a more permanent sense, then don't I experience a net loss on the deal?
Is this simply a spending money wisely issue put another way? Or am I right in feeling that there's more to it than that?
If there is, what kinds of things do make us 'permanently' happy? For me, I think that an ideal life (at least for a few years) would be working in a hostel in Europe, making just enough money to travel a little and drink wine and read books. Do the acts of drinking wine and reading books give me that permanent kind of happiness, or are they just, in the end, like the Mac? Or have I associated them with a type of lifestyle, one that I think will make me happy? What kind of lifestyle is associated with the Mac?
The next questions are maybe hugely ambitious, but I'll throw them out here and maybe come back to them again later:
What does a family of 4 with an income of $40,000 do to achieve happiness?
What does a family of 4 with an income of $400,000 do to achieve happiness?
Or, you could think of it in terms of single people if that's easier. Say $20,000 vs. $200k.
There are a quite a few people who have visited without commenting. Maybe I'm boring you to death, and that's fine. But if this is interesting to you at all, please, let us know what you're thinking!
Is this simply a spending money wisely issue put another way? Or am I right in feeling that there's more to it than that?
If there is, what kinds of things do make us 'permanently' happy? For me, I think that an ideal life (at least for a few years) would be working in a hostel in Europe, making just enough money to travel a little and drink wine and read books. Do the acts of drinking wine and reading books give me that permanent kind of happiness, or are they just, in the end, like the Mac? Or have I associated them with a type of lifestyle, one that I think will make me happy? What kind of lifestyle is associated with the Mac?
The next questions are maybe hugely ambitious, but I'll throw them out here and maybe come back to them again later:
What does a family of 4 with an income of $40,000 do to achieve happiness?
What does a family of 4 with an income of $400,000 do to achieve happiness?
Or, you could think of it in terms of single people if that's easier. Say $20,000 vs. $200k.
There are a quite a few people who have visited without commenting. Maybe I'm boring you to death, and that's fine. But if this is interesting to you at all, please, let us know what you're thinking!
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Progress and the Pursuit
It's become cliché to talk about the increasingly fast-paced nature of contemporary society, especially American society. But since we won't understand the implications of the new globalization period we're in combined with the advent of instant global communications and ubiquitous interconnectivity, that fact shouldn't stop us from having a conversation about, well, the whole point of our society's existence. [Insert another cliché about how to eat an elephant here.]
In all seriousness though, I think this question - what is the ultimate goal of our civilization - is a dangerously neglected one. Sure, people wonder all the time about the "meaning of life," or, put another way, "Why am I here?" but these questions focus only on the individual's existence. Thus, these considerations are inherently limiting. Focusing solely on them prevents or distracts us from considering or questioning many of the things we take for granted.
One of those things is, I think, the idea of "progress." America as a whole seems obsessed with it. The old DuPont slogan, "Better living through chemistry" comes to mind. We are a society transfixed with new conveniences and new discoveries that somehow make our lives better. I should make the distinction that I'm not talking about political or social progressivism, specifically equal-rights issues, but mostly inventions and scientific breakthroughs that are designed to increase the quality of our lives. A new golf club that helps us drive the ball further; automatic windshield wipers - I don't know what we'd do without them; detergent with 33% more scrubbing action; "Books are too difficult to carry around - maybe they'll invent something that fits in my pocket and can digitally store every book I have..." But perhaps my point is best illustrated by showing an opposite example.
Last summer, a group of traveling Buddhist monks visited Dartmouth for a one week residency. One night, they gave a presentation in our big auditorium, demonstrating how they traditionally carry out debates in their temples. Compared to the Americans in the audience, a casual observer knowing little about Buddhist culture might have called the monks relatively primitive. Indeed, their dress and dwellings are much simpler than ours. Their scientific knowledge is not as advanced. Certainly, their per-capita income, even adjusted for purchasing power parity, does not come close to that of Americans. And yet I have to say that their society is infinitely more advanced than ours. Without professing to know much about Buddhism, it's more or less true that they, as a culture, have reached the goal of their collective existence. All they really have left to accomplish is to, as individuals, find enlightenment through meditation and debate. Our society, meanwhile, hires hundreds of college grads each year just to figure out new ways to turn money into more money, without actually producing anything and with the money itself existing only as an idea - a bit of code in some computer somewhere. Meanwhile, we continue to obsess about the newest products to hit the market.
When will progress take us to where we want to be? If this question is impossible to answer, it is because rather than treating progress as a means to an end, we treat it as an end itself. It seems that rather than figuring out ways to progress toward a societal goal, we only work on achieving progress itself.
By all accounts, our Declaration of Independence is a brilliant and powerful document. But when Jefferson adapted John Locke's "life, liberty, and estate [or possessions]" to "...life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness," he helped cement an American mindset - that of the pursuit - that has grown steadily from our foundation to the pervasive monstrosity that it has become today. And in this pursuit of ours, for the things that we believe will help us achieve happiness, we seem to have forgotten what happiness actually is. Is it a coincidence that as America has become richer, our most commonly prescribed medications are for stress and depression-related illnesses? As the psychologist and social scientist Peter Whybrow says, "Americans are not as happy as they are rich." More on Whybrow later.
What I've written so far troubles me a little bit because its implications border on anti-intellectualism, and I am no anti-intellectual. And one can say that the Dark Ages were defined by a suffocating lack of progress, so am I arguing for a return to 11th Century Europe? These are some of the questions that, with your help, I hope to figure out. But it's worth considering - while a pocket machine that can hold all your books is empirically more useful, or, we might say, just better - than a library full of physical prints, does having it actually make us happier? And what are its costs?
But this argument is really just the beginning to many others. One of these focuses on the morality of science (indeed, the point of science, and another explores the reason that despite their growing wealth, Americans are becoming increasingly unhappy.
Your thoughts?
In all seriousness though, I think this question - what is the ultimate goal of our civilization - is a dangerously neglected one. Sure, people wonder all the time about the "meaning of life," or, put another way, "Why am I here?" but these questions focus only on the individual's existence. Thus, these considerations are inherently limiting. Focusing solely on them prevents or distracts us from considering or questioning many of the things we take for granted.
One of those things is, I think, the idea of "progress." America as a whole seems obsessed with it. The old DuPont slogan, "Better living through chemistry" comes to mind. We are a society transfixed with new conveniences and new discoveries that somehow make our lives better. I should make the distinction that I'm not talking about political or social progressivism, specifically equal-rights issues, but mostly inventions and scientific breakthroughs that are designed to increase the quality of our lives. A new golf club that helps us drive the ball further; automatic windshield wipers - I don't know what we'd do without them; detergent with 33% more scrubbing action; "Books are too difficult to carry around - maybe they'll invent something that fits in my pocket and can digitally store every book I have..." But perhaps my point is best illustrated by showing an opposite example.
Last summer, a group of traveling Buddhist monks visited Dartmouth for a one week residency. One night, they gave a presentation in our big auditorium, demonstrating how they traditionally carry out debates in their temples. Compared to the Americans in the audience, a casual observer knowing little about Buddhist culture might have called the monks relatively primitive. Indeed, their dress and dwellings are much simpler than ours. Their scientific knowledge is not as advanced. Certainly, their per-capita income, even adjusted for purchasing power parity, does not come close to that of Americans. And yet I have to say that their society is infinitely more advanced than ours. Without professing to know much about Buddhism, it's more or less true that they, as a culture, have reached the goal of their collective existence. All they really have left to accomplish is to, as individuals, find enlightenment through meditation and debate. Our society, meanwhile, hires hundreds of college grads each year just to figure out new ways to turn money into more money, without actually producing anything and with the money itself existing only as an idea - a bit of code in some computer somewhere. Meanwhile, we continue to obsess about the newest products to hit the market.
When will progress take us to where we want to be? If this question is impossible to answer, it is because rather than treating progress as a means to an end, we treat it as an end itself. It seems that rather than figuring out ways to progress toward a societal goal, we only work on achieving progress itself.
By all accounts, our Declaration of Independence is a brilliant and powerful document. But when Jefferson adapted John Locke's "life, liberty, and estate [or possessions]" to "...life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness," he helped cement an American mindset - that of the pursuit - that has grown steadily from our foundation to the pervasive monstrosity that it has become today. And in this pursuit of ours, for the things that we believe will help us achieve happiness, we seem to have forgotten what happiness actually is. Is it a coincidence that as America has become richer, our most commonly prescribed medications are for stress and depression-related illnesses? As the psychologist and social scientist Peter Whybrow says, "Americans are not as happy as they are rich." More on Whybrow later.
What I've written so far troubles me a little bit because its implications border on anti-intellectualism, and I am no anti-intellectual. And one can say that the Dark Ages were defined by a suffocating lack of progress, so am I arguing for a return to 11th Century Europe? These are some of the questions that, with your help, I hope to figure out. But it's worth considering - while a pocket machine that can hold all your books is empirically more useful, or, we might say, just better - than a library full of physical prints, does having it actually make us happier? And what are its costs?
But this argument is really just the beginning to many others. One of these focuses on the morality of science (indeed, the point of science, and another explores the reason that despite their growing wealth, Americans are becoming increasingly unhappy.
Your thoughts?
Sunday, May 25, 2008
A new beginning
A couple of years ago, I started a blog as a device to provide some sort of consistency to my journal writing. I figured that if I were writing for an (admittedly small) audience, I would have a greater incentive to write regularly. The experiment had mixed results: 38 posts in the first 2 months led to only 29 more after as I gradually but steadily lost inspiration and willpower (and, thus, inevitably, the audience).
This blog is going to be mostly similar to the last, but without any of the "Dear Diary, this is what I did today" type posts. And there are a few main reasons I'm reentering the blogosphere. The first is I believe that the two most important things in our world - romance and art (indeed, perhaps they are the same) - are under assault. The others are a bit less easy to summarize in a sentence. One has to do with the prevailing perceptions of my generation (variously called Generation Y, the MySpace/i/Google/New silent/Connected Generation, and, my favorite, Generation whY). I reject that we're as lazy, ignorant, and selfish as we are often characterized. One study, for example, finds that people of my generation are consistently rejecting leadership roles. But where many see apathy, I see disillusionment. The fact of the matter is that we did not choose to inherit the world or, more specifically, country of which we are about to take control. I think that a lot of young people will, perhaps with some prodding, assert that they are extremely frustrated with the established system and power, but they see little avenue for actual change. But maybe not. Maybe we students need a real shot in the arm to actually realize what potential we have. And I admit that just talking about it, as in this blog, may not accomplish much.
This brings me to the actual theory, if I may call it that without seeming revoltingly arrogant, of this blog. It's simply a test - a forum for discussion. An internet agora. Because in my three years at Dartmouth, I've learned more in a couple of discussion groups I participate in than in all my classes and most of my other extracurriculars combined. Not in absolute terms, of course. After all, the social science major taught me a completely new way to think. But the most important things.
One of the best and most profound pieces of advice ever given me was by this guy Jeff, the owner of a café and bar I frequented in Toulouse last year. We got pretty close, and when I headed out the door on my last night in the city, he shook my hand, looked me in the eye, and said "Enjoy your life." This statement can be taken simply, or it can grow to an enormous complexity. I take the latter view. Just defining "enjoyment" is, I think, a colossal undertaking, and then we have to figure out how to actually achieve it. This task will be another theme of the blog.
If everything I've written so far seems kind of nebulous, it is simply because I don't actually have a real solid idea of what I want to do here. But, in the least, everything above should form some of the threads that are strung through the posts in the months to come. We'll see how it goes. Thanks for reading.
This blog is going to be mostly similar to the last, but without any of the "Dear Diary, this is what I did today" type posts. And there are a few main reasons I'm reentering the blogosphere. The first is I believe that the two most important things in our world - romance and art (indeed, perhaps they are the same) - are under assault. The others are a bit less easy to summarize in a sentence. One has to do with the prevailing perceptions of my generation (variously called Generation Y, the MySpace/i/Google/New silent/Connected Generation, and, my favorite, Generation whY). I reject that we're as lazy, ignorant, and selfish as we are often characterized. One study, for example, finds that people of my generation are consistently rejecting leadership roles. But where many see apathy, I see disillusionment. The fact of the matter is that we did not choose to inherit the world or, more specifically, country of which we are about to take control. I think that a lot of young people will, perhaps with some prodding, assert that they are extremely frustrated with the established system and power, but they see little avenue for actual change. But maybe not. Maybe we students need a real shot in the arm to actually realize what potential we have. And I admit that just talking about it, as in this blog, may not accomplish much.
This brings me to the actual theory, if I may call it that without seeming revoltingly arrogant, of this blog. It's simply a test - a forum for discussion. An internet agora. Because in my three years at Dartmouth, I've learned more in a couple of discussion groups I participate in than in all my classes and most of my other extracurriculars combined. Not in absolute terms, of course. After all, the social science major taught me a completely new way to think. But the most important things.
One of the best and most profound pieces of advice ever given me was by this guy Jeff, the owner of a café and bar I frequented in Toulouse last year. We got pretty close, and when I headed out the door on my last night in the city, he shook my hand, looked me in the eye, and said "Enjoy your life." This statement can be taken simply, or it can grow to an enormous complexity. I take the latter view. Just defining "enjoyment" is, I think, a colossal undertaking, and then we have to figure out how to actually achieve it. This task will be another theme of the blog.
If everything I've written so far seems kind of nebulous, it is simply because I don't actually have a real solid idea of what I want to do here. But, in the least, everything above should form some of the threads that are strung through the posts in the months to come. We'll see how it goes. Thanks for reading.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)