Friday, June 08, 2012
Fair Game
More rhetorical analysis from The Daily Show:
Last night, Stewart summed up the (primarly Fox News) fervor over what's "fair game" to discuss, call into question, or criticize in a presidential election campaign.
In addition to indecorously suggesting that news outlets spend their time determining the objective veracity of claims rather than pointlessly discussing a subjective determination of whether said claims are "fair game," Stewart points out that "referring to someone's prior business experience during a job interview" is actually EXACTLY how hiring decisions are made.
He went on to compare Fox's non-value-added preoccupation with "fair game" to a "circle jerk." (...but then clarified that this would be a discredit to circle jerks since they at least have an actual, observable outcome.)
Been pretty busy lately... it's good to be back.
Luth
Out
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Demjanjuk's death leaves questions?
Happy Sunday after St. Patty's Day!
If Ivan "John" Demjanjuk's death leaves any questions, they're about us, not him.
You may recall this retired Cleveland autoworker as the guy accused of being "Ivan the Terrible," who participated in the deaths of 27,900 Jews (according to charges he faced in Germany) at the Sobibor death camp in German-occupied Poland in 1943.
A headline in this week's paper suggests his death, at 91, frail, in a nursing home, only leaves questions unanswered, but any questions about the man himself - whether he was or was not Ivan the Terrible - can't possibly matter much now that he's gone. The important questions are the ones his story raises about us.
I've always been a joiner, a follower, a go-alonger. In my profession, I get to do a lot of those personality type inventories, and the so-called clinical data all support this notion. I've known it much longer than I've known what a Meyers-Briggs Type Indicator was. Those things just lend authority to what I knew in middle school, maybe earlier. We can't all be the general or the chief. Some of us have to be the grunts.
And so, whenever this comes up in conversation, I'm surprised by the reaction I get from friends when I translate this self-knowledge into what I feel are its logical extensions: Were I alive in Germany (or maybe anywhere else in Europe) in the 40's, I'd likely side with the Nazis. Were I a plantation dweller, or even poor white trash in the American South before the Civil War, I would have likely supported slavery.
I suppose the shock of saying such things is purely temporal. Friends who know me to be a human rights defending liberal also know that those episodes in human history sicken me, and are what drive me toward my leftist leanings TODAY. I'm pretty sure there are no absolutes, precisely because these disgusting episodes are the logical end of such extreme belief. But let's face it, my largely white, middle class circle of mates would very likely be in the exact same position with me if we traveled back to those eras.
I believe this not just for the convenience of it, but for reasons of pure self preservation. And to be clear here, I'm NOT saying I would have been RIGHT about any of this, just that it's pretty likely the way things would have worked. Think about the situation in Nazi Germany. Hitler led one of the most incredibly successful marketing campaigns in modern history, convincing even the Catholic Church that his plan was a good one. If you weren't with them, you feared for your life. I'm pretty sure if the Pope was convinced to look the other way, my will would have stood little chance of overcoming the force of Hitler's pull. (Hell, I signed a 6-year hitch in my country's service just cuz I ran out of college money... and then stayed on another 16 years just because it would have required more effort to quit than it did to re-enlist!)
As a nation we sat back and watched the atrocity unfold for almost two decades before we'd had enough of the Nazis. So yeah, I don't think it's a stretch that I may have traded my white, non-Jewish background for safety, and perhaps aided by the pressures of the society all around me, joined the army, which, in Germany from the late 1920s to the mid 1940s meant becoming a Nazi.
Now consider some of Dmjanjuk's circumstances. Compared to what most of us deal with these days, the dude's life was hell from the start. He was born to disabled parents in an impoverished village in Ukraine and spent what were probably his most "comfortable" years in the Soviet Army, where he was injured, captured, and imprisoned by Germans. After being captured, he claims he was forced to work in prison camps where he was a PRISONER. Others have claimed he willingly took some pretty horrible jobs in those camps and even became a volunteer. It doesn't really matter now. He's dead. He then spent the rest of his post-military life in displacement camps before escaping to America in 1952, where he raised a family, lived quietly, and dealt with his past on his own.
So put yourself in his shoes. Prison camp, after a horrible life by most standards, and you probably think it's all going to end tomorrow, or the first opportunity you have to piss off your captors. One day they say, "hey, if you stand here and operate this lever, you'll live." Would you operate that lever? What if you didn't really know, at least at first, what that lever did? Don't be so quick to play the hero here with 70 years of safe, comfortable hindsight between you and that prison camp. That's all I'm saying.
If all it takes for evil to prevail is for good people to do nothing, then every one of us is just as guilty as the real Ivan the Terrible. I suspect that if there truly remain any questions regarding John Demjanjuk's history, they are more about us than about him. He's dead. He lived the last 2/3 of his 91 years with the knowledge of choices he made. He was either a psychopath, or he suffered as a result of that knowledge. None of us are completely innocent. And the real question is, would any of us have done anything different in his circumstances... IF he did any of the things he was accused of doing.
So, you think you'd have made better choices? Think you're the true owner of every decision you've ever made? Think you don't just march in lockstep with the pressures of the crowd? Sure you don't. Off to church with you now.
Luth
Out
If Ivan "John" Demjanjuk's death leaves any questions, they're about us, not him.
You may recall this retired Cleveland autoworker as the guy accused of being "Ivan the Terrible," who participated in the deaths of 27,900 Jews (according to charges he faced in Germany) at the Sobibor death camp in German-occupied Poland in 1943.
A headline in this week's paper suggests his death, at 91, frail, in a nursing home, only leaves questions unanswered, but any questions about the man himself - whether he was or was not Ivan the Terrible - can't possibly matter much now that he's gone. The important questions are the ones his story raises about us.
I've always been a joiner, a follower, a go-alonger. In my profession, I get to do a lot of those personality type inventories, and the so-called clinical data all support this notion. I've known it much longer than I've known what a Meyers-Briggs Type Indicator was. Those things just lend authority to what I knew in middle school, maybe earlier. We can't all be the general or the chief. Some of us have to be the grunts.
And so, whenever this comes up in conversation, I'm surprised by the reaction I get from friends when I translate this self-knowledge into what I feel are its logical extensions: Were I alive in Germany (or maybe anywhere else in Europe) in the 40's, I'd likely side with the Nazis. Were I a plantation dweller, or even poor white trash in the American South before the Civil War, I would have likely supported slavery.
I suppose the shock of saying such things is purely temporal. Friends who know me to be a human rights defending liberal also know that those episodes in human history sicken me, and are what drive me toward my leftist leanings TODAY. I'm pretty sure there are no absolutes, precisely because these disgusting episodes are the logical end of such extreme belief. But let's face it, my largely white, middle class circle of mates would very likely be in the exact same position with me if we traveled back to those eras.
I believe this not just for the convenience of it, but for reasons of pure self preservation. And to be clear here, I'm NOT saying I would have been RIGHT about any of this, just that it's pretty likely the way things would have worked. Think about the situation in Nazi Germany. Hitler led one of the most incredibly successful marketing campaigns in modern history, convincing even the Catholic Church that his plan was a good one. If you weren't with them, you feared for your life. I'm pretty sure if the Pope was convinced to look the other way, my will would have stood little chance of overcoming the force of Hitler's pull. (Hell, I signed a 6-year hitch in my country's service just cuz I ran out of college money... and then stayed on another 16 years just because it would have required more effort to quit than it did to re-enlist!)
As a nation we sat back and watched the atrocity unfold for almost two decades before we'd had enough of the Nazis. So yeah, I don't think it's a stretch that I may have traded my white, non-Jewish background for safety, and perhaps aided by the pressures of the society all around me, joined the army, which, in Germany from the late 1920s to the mid 1940s meant becoming a Nazi.
Now consider some of Dmjanjuk's circumstances. Compared to what most of us deal with these days, the dude's life was hell from the start. He was born to disabled parents in an impoverished village in Ukraine and spent what were probably his most "comfortable" years in the Soviet Army, where he was injured, captured, and imprisoned by Germans. After being captured, he claims he was forced to work in prison camps where he was a PRISONER. Others have claimed he willingly took some pretty horrible jobs in those camps and even became a volunteer. It doesn't really matter now. He's dead. He then spent the rest of his post-military life in displacement camps before escaping to America in 1952, where he raised a family, lived quietly, and dealt with his past on his own.
So put yourself in his shoes. Prison camp, after a horrible life by most standards, and you probably think it's all going to end tomorrow, or the first opportunity you have to piss off your captors. One day they say, "hey, if you stand here and operate this lever, you'll live." Would you operate that lever? What if you didn't really know, at least at first, what that lever did? Don't be so quick to play the hero here with 70 years of safe, comfortable hindsight between you and that prison camp. That's all I'm saying.
If all it takes for evil to prevail is for good people to do nothing, then every one of us is just as guilty as the real Ivan the Terrible. I suspect that if there truly remain any questions regarding John Demjanjuk's history, they are more about us than about him. He's dead. He lived the last 2/3 of his 91 years with the knowledge of choices he made. He was either a psychopath, or he suffered as a result of that knowledge. None of us are completely innocent. And the real question is, would any of us have done anything different in his circumstances... IF he did any of the things he was accused of doing.
So, you think you'd have made better choices? Think you're the true owner of every decision you've ever made? Think you don't just march in lockstep with the pressures of the crowd? Sure you don't. Off to church with you now.
Luth
Out
Thursday, March 01, 2012
Elevator Control Switch
Chip and Dan Heath, professors, researchers, authors, entrepreneurs, and contributors to Fast Company magazine, have recently released a second book called Switch that claims to help folks manage or initiate change in their lives, businesses, etc. Dan recorded a video about the book for a group of VA Senior Executives to be played during last year’s Senior Management Conference, and his speech is available via VA’s Training Management System (TMS), but no one can find it there because the system’s search engine is about as useful as the following procedure:
1. Set up a manual typewriter next to a cactus in the desert
2. Type the question “what is Switch”
3. Swing the carriage return
4. Stare at the cactus
(but that’s another post)
Dan’s video boils down the message in the book which is essentially: people don’t actually resist change, they resist ambiguity, vagary, lack of direction. Dan points out that folks regularly go willingly toward some of the most massive changes a person can experience by simply breaking them down into manageable next steps. We voluntarily join the military, get married, have kids. Those are some pretty massive changes and humans seem to embrace them, not run from them.
He tells that story to explain this one: we like to think change is hard because we’re all schizophrenic. We have a rational side that fully understands why we shouldn’t spend so much time blogging or Facebooking, why we should drop 10 pounds, or why we should get up early tomorrow. Humans also have an emotional side that ignores the rational side and tells us things like one more drink before last call won’t hurt, or we deserve that donut, or hitting snooze one more time is the right decision. The Heath brothers describe this situation (actually they cite the psychologist who described it) as a rational human rider on the back of an emotional elephant. In a battle, the elephant will obviously win. So, the Heath brothers explain, any call for, or attempt to change anything must come with a rational appeal for the rider and an emotional appeal for the elephant. The rider must break down what it wants the elephant to do into easily manageable key steps and then provide the motivation to make those steps appealing to the elephant. Read the book, or, if by some miracle you can find it in TMS, watch the videos. They’re way better at explaining it than I am.
I told you that story to tell you this one: I was in New Orleans last week for the program in which I played that Switch video for a small group of VHA employees in a leadership training program. The hotel where I stayed, gorgeous though it was, had the strangest elevator control system I’ve ever encountered. Before I go on to describe it I should emphasize that I’m one of the folks who don’t need to read Switch in order to be convinced that humans embrace change. I’ve always enjoyed change. I get bored easily. I’d much rather be involved with creating or implementing or revising the new than with maintaining old. It’s just the way I’m wired. I tell you this so you’ll better understand, and perhaps better be able to help with my dilemma.
Back to the elevator control system. I vaguely recall as I checked in to this hotel, the clerk mentioning that I had to go up two floors (via escalators) to the main elevators in order to get to the guest rooms. Like most big city hotels, the first few floors were conference space, public areas, bars, restaurants, Starbucks, and FedEx store. The clerk also said something about swiping my room keycard in order to use the elevator. That seemed odd from a main floor. As a regular traveler, I belong to several of the major chain’s “preferred customer” groups and so I assumed she referred to those floors or areas reserved for card carrying preferred customers, like a top floor lounge, or the floor with just suites or something like that. I was too busy trying to remember her directions for how to even get up to the elevators to think much more about how my key card might be necessary to operate them. It was a good concern to have cuz it turns out I could have walked to another hotel (with my luggage) in less time than it took to get to these damned elevators.
As I approached them, I realized I should have paid more attention to what she said about how to operate them. Unlike every elevator I’ve ever been in, this bank of four cars had a touch screen on the wall between each pair of cars right where you normally find the simple “up/down” buttons you usually associate with elevator operation. I watched as another guest swiped a key card under the touch screen and walked into the car that opened behind us. My past experience with elevators told me to just follow her rather than fish through pockets for my keycard, and so I dragged my roller suitcase into her car, smiled politely, and then turned to press the button for the 7th floor.
“First day here?” she said from behind me as I began to realize the mistake I’d made. This elevator had no buttons inside it save for the alarm bell, and door open/close buttons.
“You’ll have to ride with me to 15, get out, and swipe your card again to get to your floor. Watch the touchscreen to see which car will take you to 7.”
Her instructions seemed about as clear as the ones I’d already ignored at the front desk – they in no way meshed with my four decades of elevator riding experience - but I smiled and thanked her and then rode quietly to 15 with her. I was silently debating whether I would actually get off at 15 until it dawned on me that staying in an elevator with no buttons on the inside was not a useful activity, so when we arrived at 15, I followed her out. I dug my keycard out of my pocket and swiped it under the touch screen. A keypad similar to the one on my iPhone appeared with the “3” and the “7” “keys” highlighted and flashing. I was a tad confused, but I intuitively tapped the “7” and the screen changed to instructions that said something like “take car A to the 7th floor.” And right about then, the door I’d just exited – car A as it turned out – opened. I stepped in and was whisked back down to the 7th floor.
I felt fairly confident with my success. I had passed the first lesson even if, you might argue, I had failed on my first try ending up on the 15th floor. I was now on floor 7 and could now go back to a more familiar process: searching for an indication of which of the four hallways I should follow to find room 725. I pulled my suitcase along while scanning the walls ahead of me and had far less difficulty finding my room than I had controlling the elevators. But the entire time I walked to my room, entered it, hung up my clothes, drank a glass of water, and headed back out to meet with our conference hosts in the building next door, my thoughts were on that elevator control experience.
Was this touchscreen thing that automatically offered me options a better system than the ones I was used to? It didn’t seem like it. It seemed overly complicated, but did I only think that because it was so new and different from well-established prior experience? More importantly, would I be able to work the system to get myself to the second floor – a floor I previously only set foot on between escalators on my way to the guest room elevators on the third floor – in order to meet with my host? I was about to find out. The elevator bank on the 7th floor was rapidly approaching. I had my keycard out and was ready to scan, but I paused to observe for a moment before I jumped right back into this new game. There were two sets of four elevators. Cars A-D were on the far end of the crossing hallway, and cars E-H; on the end nearest the hallway to my room. I had stopped at the E-H touch pad.
I swiped my card and a message on the touchscreen offered the iPhone-looking keypad again, this time with the “3” highlighted, but right below the keypad grid was another box that said, “lower floors.” I tapped it. At that point a new, less complicated grid popped up that offered “2,” “lobby,” and ”upper floors.” I tapped “2.” The screen then flashed “take car A to the 2nd floor.” I headed over from the E-F bank to the A-D bank, and as you can probably guess by now, got to car A just as the doors were closing. I swiped my keycard again, calling up the increasingly familiar iPhone keypad with the “3” highlighted again and the “lower floors” box below the grid. (Apparently, everyone from every upper floor rides to three and then hikes or escalates to 1 or 2??) I tapped the “lower floors” button again, selected “2” again and read “take car B to the 2nd floor.” I glanced up at the two cars I was facing: A & C. I turned around in time to see the doors to car B closing. (did I mention I had an ear infection, and couldn’t hear the doors opening - or jets taking off, or small arms fire - since my plane landed at Louis Armstrong Airport?) I swiped my card again. Tapped “lower floors” again. Tapped “2” again, and braced myself to launch at the first open door. The screen read “take car B to the 2nd floor.”
I tried that once! I thought, loudly.
This time I was ready though, and I managed to enter car B as the doors were closing. Out of habit, I still looked for buttons to push as the car descended to the 2nd floor. I got out, located the skybridge to the connected federal building next door, and made my way over to my host’s office building’s second floor lobby. I passed a bank of elevators marked “Levels 1-4,” a security desk where a friendly guard told me to have a good afternoon, another bank of elevators marked “Levels 5-9,” and finally, just as I was beginning to wonder what problems folks in New Orleans must have had with just plain old elevators in the past, a bank of elevators marked “Levels 9-15.” To my great relief, the elevators to floors 9-15 were operated by the old standard “up arrow/down arrow” buttons. I pushed the up arrow button and climbed on the first car that opened up. Inside, I found the standard panel of buttons (and in answer to the newly forming question in my head, I could actually choose any floor from 1 through 15 in spite of the signage that forced me to walk all the way past two other banks of perfectly good elevators to get to this one. I guessed that the others would have provided the same selection of floors no matter what the signs said!)
I arrived at floor 10, and in typical government fashion, saw absolutely no signage that would confirm nor deny that I was in the right place. To my left was an opening to a hallway. To my right was a set of decorative glass doors with an empty reception desk behind them bearing a Department of Veterans Affairs seal, but no further hierarchical identification indicating it was in the fact the Human Resources and Recruiting Office headquarters. (there are actually a LOT of Department of Veterans Affairs offices)
I walked through the glass doors until I found someone who instantly recognized me as someone who didn’t really belong. I introduced myself, explained why I was intruding, who I was looking for, and discovered I was in fact in the right place. The meeting (and the entire trip) went well from that point on (except for the cabin pressurization/depressurization effects on my ears on the flight home) but the issue of the hotel elevator controls either nagged or intrigued me, and continues to do so.
Each trip I made to and from my room reminded me that I had yet to decide whether or not this change was an improvement. The elevator touch pad was definitely a cool, Star Trek-like, high tech, futuristic kind of toy, and its inconspicuous, brushed stainless steel frame surrounding the glowing blue screen fit nicely with the newly redecorated hotel interior. There was no doubt that the hardware involved was sexy. These touchpads were sleek, slim, cool looking.
There is also no doubt that they worked, once a new user got the hang of them. No doubt that the inside of the elevator was “cleaner,” sleeker looking without all those buttons cluttering it up. No doubt there are fewer moving parts without a button for each floor plus the buttons outside, etc. I can certainly come up with a list of positive things to say about this new elevator GUI, if I may. But the question remains, is it better. If I could become used to it, does it make my elevator experience better than it was in the past?
I’m not sure I’m ready to make that Switch.
So, my dilemma: Do I suspect this new system is not better only because it is so new? Will I grow to love it once it becomes second nature? Or is it sufficiently overly complex and just the latest failure in a line of attempts to replace what is actually a solid existing system that will require more time and effort (and something WAY better than this) to replace it? And how do you ever know?
1. Set up a manual typewriter next to a cactus in the desert
2. Type the question “what is Switch”
3. Swing the carriage return
4. Stare at the cactus
(but that’s another post)
Dan’s video boils down the message in the book which is essentially: people don’t actually resist change, they resist ambiguity, vagary, lack of direction. Dan points out that folks regularly go willingly toward some of the most massive changes a person can experience by simply breaking them down into manageable next steps. We voluntarily join the military, get married, have kids. Those are some pretty massive changes and humans seem to embrace them, not run from them.
He tells that story to explain this one: we like to think change is hard because we’re all schizophrenic. We have a rational side that fully understands why we shouldn’t spend so much time blogging or Facebooking, why we should drop 10 pounds, or why we should get up early tomorrow. Humans also have an emotional side that ignores the rational side and tells us things like one more drink before last call won’t hurt, or we deserve that donut, or hitting snooze one more time is the right decision. The Heath brothers describe this situation (actually they cite the psychologist who described it) as a rational human rider on the back of an emotional elephant. In a battle, the elephant will obviously win. So, the Heath brothers explain, any call for, or attempt to change anything must come with a rational appeal for the rider and an emotional appeal for the elephant. The rider must break down what it wants the elephant to do into easily manageable key steps and then provide the motivation to make those steps appealing to the elephant. Read the book, or, if by some miracle you can find it in TMS, watch the videos. They’re way better at explaining it than I am.
I told you that story to tell you this one: I was in New Orleans last week for the program in which I played that Switch video for a small group of VHA employees in a leadership training program. The hotel where I stayed, gorgeous though it was, had the strangest elevator control system I’ve ever encountered. Before I go on to describe it I should emphasize that I’m one of the folks who don’t need to read Switch in order to be convinced that humans embrace change. I’ve always enjoyed change. I get bored easily. I’d much rather be involved with creating or implementing or revising the new than with maintaining old. It’s just the way I’m wired. I tell you this so you’ll better understand, and perhaps better be able to help with my dilemma.
Back to the elevator control system. I vaguely recall as I checked in to this hotel, the clerk mentioning that I had to go up two floors (via escalators) to the main elevators in order to get to the guest rooms. Like most big city hotels, the first few floors were conference space, public areas, bars, restaurants, Starbucks, and FedEx store. The clerk also said something about swiping my room keycard in order to use the elevator. That seemed odd from a main floor. As a regular traveler, I belong to several of the major chain’s “preferred customer” groups and so I assumed she referred to those floors or areas reserved for card carrying preferred customers, like a top floor lounge, or the floor with just suites or something like that. I was too busy trying to remember her directions for how to even get up to the elevators to think much more about how my key card might be necessary to operate them. It was a good concern to have cuz it turns out I could have walked to another hotel (with my luggage) in less time than it took to get to these damned elevators.
As I approached them, I realized I should have paid more attention to what she said about how to operate them. Unlike every elevator I’ve ever been in, this bank of four cars had a touch screen on the wall between each pair of cars right where you normally find the simple “up/down” buttons you usually associate with elevator operation. I watched as another guest swiped a key card under the touch screen and walked into the car that opened behind us. My past experience with elevators told me to just follow her rather than fish through pockets for my keycard, and so I dragged my roller suitcase into her car, smiled politely, and then turned to press the button for the 7th floor.
“First day here?” she said from behind me as I began to realize the mistake I’d made. This elevator had no buttons inside it save for the alarm bell, and door open/close buttons.
“You’ll have to ride with me to 15, get out, and swipe your card again to get to your floor. Watch the touchscreen to see which car will take you to 7.”
Her instructions seemed about as clear as the ones I’d already ignored at the front desk – they in no way meshed with my four decades of elevator riding experience - but I smiled and thanked her and then rode quietly to 15 with her. I was silently debating whether I would actually get off at 15 until it dawned on me that staying in an elevator with no buttons on the inside was not a useful activity, so when we arrived at 15, I followed her out. I dug my keycard out of my pocket and swiped it under the touch screen. A keypad similar to the one on my iPhone appeared with the “3” and the “7” “keys” highlighted and flashing. I was a tad confused, but I intuitively tapped the “7” and the screen changed to instructions that said something like “take car A to the 7th floor.” And right about then, the door I’d just exited – car A as it turned out – opened. I stepped in and was whisked back down to the 7th floor.
I felt fairly confident with my success. I had passed the first lesson even if, you might argue, I had failed on my first try ending up on the 15th floor. I was now on floor 7 and could now go back to a more familiar process: searching for an indication of which of the four hallways I should follow to find room 725. I pulled my suitcase along while scanning the walls ahead of me and had far less difficulty finding my room than I had controlling the elevators. But the entire time I walked to my room, entered it, hung up my clothes, drank a glass of water, and headed back out to meet with our conference hosts in the building next door, my thoughts were on that elevator control experience.
Was this touchscreen thing that automatically offered me options a better system than the ones I was used to? It didn’t seem like it. It seemed overly complicated, but did I only think that because it was so new and different from well-established prior experience? More importantly, would I be able to work the system to get myself to the second floor – a floor I previously only set foot on between escalators on my way to the guest room elevators on the third floor – in order to meet with my host? I was about to find out. The elevator bank on the 7th floor was rapidly approaching. I had my keycard out and was ready to scan, but I paused to observe for a moment before I jumped right back into this new game. There were two sets of four elevators. Cars A-D were on the far end of the crossing hallway, and cars E-H; on the end nearest the hallway to my room. I had stopped at the E-H touch pad.
I swiped my card and a message on the touchscreen offered the iPhone-looking keypad again, this time with the “3” highlighted, but right below the keypad grid was another box that said, “lower floors.” I tapped it. At that point a new, less complicated grid popped up that offered “2,” “lobby,” and ”upper floors.” I tapped “2.” The screen then flashed “take car A to the 2nd floor.” I headed over from the E-F bank to the A-D bank, and as you can probably guess by now, got to car A just as the doors were closing. I swiped my keycard again, calling up the increasingly familiar iPhone keypad with the “3” highlighted again and the “lower floors” box below the grid. (Apparently, everyone from every upper floor rides to three and then hikes or escalates to 1 or 2??) I tapped the “lower floors” button again, selected “2” again and read “take car B to the 2nd floor.” I glanced up at the two cars I was facing: A & C. I turned around in time to see the doors to car B closing. (did I mention I had an ear infection, and couldn’t hear the doors opening - or jets taking off, or small arms fire - since my plane landed at Louis Armstrong Airport?) I swiped my card again. Tapped “lower floors” again. Tapped “2” again, and braced myself to launch at the first open door. The screen read “take car B to the 2nd floor.”
I tried that once! I thought, loudly.
This time I was ready though, and I managed to enter car B as the doors were closing. Out of habit, I still looked for buttons to push as the car descended to the 2nd floor. I got out, located the skybridge to the connected federal building next door, and made my way over to my host’s office building’s second floor lobby. I passed a bank of elevators marked “Levels 1-4,” a security desk where a friendly guard told me to have a good afternoon, another bank of elevators marked “Levels 5-9,” and finally, just as I was beginning to wonder what problems folks in New Orleans must have had with just plain old elevators in the past, a bank of elevators marked “Levels 9-15.” To my great relief, the elevators to floors 9-15 were operated by the old standard “up arrow/down arrow” buttons. I pushed the up arrow button and climbed on the first car that opened up. Inside, I found the standard panel of buttons (and in answer to the newly forming question in my head, I could actually choose any floor from 1 through 15 in spite of the signage that forced me to walk all the way past two other banks of perfectly good elevators to get to this one. I guessed that the others would have provided the same selection of floors no matter what the signs said!)
I arrived at floor 10, and in typical government fashion, saw absolutely no signage that would confirm nor deny that I was in the right place. To my left was an opening to a hallway. To my right was a set of decorative glass doors with an empty reception desk behind them bearing a Department of Veterans Affairs seal, but no further hierarchical identification indicating it was in the fact the Human Resources and Recruiting Office headquarters. (there are actually a LOT of Department of Veterans Affairs offices)
I walked through the glass doors until I found someone who instantly recognized me as someone who didn’t really belong. I introduced myself, explained why I was intruding, who I was looking for, and discovered I was in fact in the right place. The meeting (and the entire trip) went well from that point on (except for the cabin pressurization/depressurization effects on my ears on the flight home) but the issue of the hotel elevator controls either nagged or intrigued me, and continues to do so.
Each trip I made to and from my room reminded me that I had yet to decide whether or not this change was an improvement. The elevator touch pad was definitely a cool, Star Trek-like, high tech, futuristic kind of toy, and its inconspicuous, brushed stainless steel frame surrounding the glowing blue screen fit nicely with the newly redecorated hotel interior. There was no doubt that the hardware involved was sexy. These touchpads were sleek, slim, cool looking.
There is also no doubt that they worked, once a new user got the hang of them. No doubt that the inside of the elevator was “cleaner,” sleeker looking without all those buttons cluttering it up. No doubt there are fewer moving parts without a button for each floor plus the buttons outside, etc. I can certainly come up with a list of positive things to say about this new elevator GUI, if I may. But the question remains, is it better. If I could become used to it, does it make my elevator experience better than it was in the past?
I’m not sure I’m ready to make that Switch.
So, my dilemma: Do I suspect this new system is not better only because it is so new? Will I grow to love it once it becomes second nature? Or is it sufficiently overly complex and just the latest failure in a line of attempts to replace what is actually a solid existing system that will require more time and effort (and something WAY better than this) to replace it? And how do you ever know?
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Science Must Destroy Religion by Sam Harris
Election time is right around the corner. Time for a guest post.
by Sam Harris
Huffington Post
January 2, 2006
Most people believe that the Creator of the universe wrote (or dictated) one of their books. Unfortunately, there are many books that pretend to divine authorship, and each makes incompatible claims about how we all must live. Despite the ecumenical efforts of many well-intentioned people, these irreconcilable religious commitments still inspire an appalling amount of human conflict.
In response to this situation, most sensible people advocate something called "religious tolerance." While religious tolerance is surely better than religious war, tolerance is not without its liabilities. Our fear of provoking religious hatred has rendered us incapable of criticizing ideas that are now patently absurd and increasingly maladaptive. It has also obliged us to lie to ourselves — repeatedly and at the highest levels — about the compatibility between religious faith and scientific rationality.
The conflict between religion and science is inherent and (very nearly) zero-sum. The success of science often comes at the expense of religious dogma; the maintenance of religious dogma always comes at the expense of science. It is time we conceded a basic fact of human discourse: either a person has good reasons for what he believes, or he does not. When a person has good reasons, his beliefs contribute to our growing understanding of the world. We need not distinguish between "hard" and "soft" science here, or between science and other evidence-based disciplines like history. There happen to be very good reasons to believe that the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor on December 7th, 1941. Consequently, the idea that the Egyptians actually did it lacks credibility. Every sane human being recognizes that to rely merely upon "faith" to decide specific questions of historical fact would be both idiotic and grotesque — that is, until the conversation turns to the origin of books like the bible and the Koran, to the resurrection of Jesus, to Muhammad's conversation with the angel Gabriel, or to any of the other hallowed travesties that still crowd the altar of human ignorance.
Science, in the broadest sense, includes all reasonable claims to knowledge about ourselves and the world. If there were good reasons to believe that Jesus was born of a virgin, or that Muhammad flew to heaven on a winged horse, these beliefs would necessarily form part of our rational description of the universe. Faith is nothing more than the license that religious people give one another to believe such propositions when reasons fail. The difference between science and religion is the difference between a willingness to dispassionately consider new evidence and new arguments, and a passionate unwillingness to do so. The distinction could not be more obvious, or more consequential, and yet it is everywhere elided, even in the ivory tower.
Religion is fast growing incompatible with the emergence of a global, civil society. Religious faith — faith that there is a God who cares what name he is called, that one of our books is infallible, that Jesus is coming back to earth to judge the living and the dead, that Muslim martyrs go straight to Paradise, etc. — is on the wrong side of an escalating war of ideas. The difference between science and religion is the difference between a genuine openness to fruits of human inquiry in the 21st century, and a premature closure to such inquiry as a matter of principle. I believe that the antagonism between reason and faith will only grow more pervasive and intractable in the coming years. Iron Age beliefs — about God, the soul, sin, free will, etc. — continue to impede medical research and distort public policy. The possibility that we could elect a U.S. President who takes biblical prophesy seriously is real and terrifying; the likelihood that we will one day confront Islamists armed with nuclear or biological weapons is also terrifying, and it is increasing by the day. We are doing very little, at the level of our intellectual discourse, to prevent such possibilities. In the spirit of religious tolerance, most scientists are keeping silent when they should be blasting the hideous fantasies of a prior age with all the facts at their disposal.
To win this war of ideas, scientists and other rational people will need to find new ways of talking about ethics and spiritual experience. The distinction between science and religion is not a matter of excluding our ethical intuitions and non-ordinary states of consciousness from our conversation about the world; it is a matter of our being rigorous about what is reasonable to conclude on their basis. We must find ways of meeting our emotional needs that do not require the abject embrace of the preposterous. We must learn to invoke the power of ritual and to mark those transitions in every human life that demand profundity — birth, marriage, death, etc. — without lying to ourselves about the nature of reality.
I am hopeful that the necessary transformation in our thinking will come about as our scientific understanding of ourselves matures. When we find reliable ways to make human beings more loving, less fearful, and genuinely enraptured by the fact of our appearance in the cosmos, we will have no need for divisive religious myths. Only then will the practice of raising our children to believe that they are Christian, Jewish, Muslim, or Hindu be broadly recognized as the ludicrous obscenity that it is. And only then will we stand a chance of healing the deepest and most dangerous fractures in our world.
by Sam Harris
Huffington Post
January 2, 2006
Most people believe that the Creator of the universe wrote (or dictated) one of their books. Unfortunately, there are many books that pretend to divine authorship, and each makes incompatible claims about how we all must live. Despite the ecumenical efforts of many well-intentioned people, these irreconcilable religious commitments still inspire an appalling amount of human conflict.
In response to this situation, most sensible people advocate something called "religious tolerance." While religious tolerance is surely better than religious war, tolerance is not without its liabilities. Our fear of provoking religious hatred has rendered us incapable of criticizing ideas that are now patently absurd and increasingly maladaptive. It has also obliged us to lie to ourselves — repeatedly and at the highest levels — about the compatibility between religious faith and scientific rationality.
The conflict between religion and science is inherent and (very nearly) zero-sum. The success of science often comes at the expense of religious dogma; the maintenance of religious dogma always comes at the expense of science. It is time we conceded a basic fact of human discourse: either a person has good reasons for what he believes, or he does not. When a person has good reasons, his beliefs contribute to our growing understanding of the world. We need not distinguish between "hard" and "soft" science here, or between science and other evidence-based disciplines like history. There happen to be very good reasons to believe that the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor on December 7th, 1941. Consequently, the idea that the Egyptians actually did it lacks credibility. Every sane human being recognizes that to rely merely upon "faith" to decide specific questions of historical fact would be both idiotic and grotesque — that is, until the conversation turns to the origin of books like the bible and the Koran, to the resurrection of Jesus, to Muhammad's conversation with the angel Gabriel, or to any of the other hallowed travesties that still crowd the altar of human ignorance.
Science, in the broadest sense, includes all reasonable claims to knowledge about ourselves and the world. If there were good reasons to believe that Jesus was born of a virgin, or that Muhammad flew to heaven on a winged horse, these beliefs would necessarily form part of our rational description of the universe. Faith is nothing more than the license that religious people give one another to believe such propositions when reasons fail. The difference between science and religion is the difference between a willingness to dispassionately consider new evidence and new arguments, and a passionate unwillingness to do so. The distinction could not be more obvious, or more consequential, and yet it is everywhere elided, even in the ivory tower.
Religion is fast growing incompatible with the emergence of a global, civil society. Religious faith — faith that there is a God who cares what name he is called, that one of our books is infallible, that Jesus is coming back to earth to judge the living and the dead, that Muslim martyrs go straight to Paradise, etc. — is on the wrong side of an escalating war of ideas. The difference between science and religion is the difference between a genuine openness to fruits of human inquiry in the 21st century, and a premature closure to such inquiry as a matter of principle. I believe that the antagonism between reason and faith will only grow more pervasive and intractable in the coming years. Iron Age beliefs — about God, the soul, sin, free will, etc. — continue to impede medical research and distort public policy. The possibility that we could elect a U.S. President who takes biblical prophesy seriously is real and terrifying; the likelihood that we will one day confront Islamists armed with nuclear or biological weapons is also terrifying, and it is increasing by the day. We are doing very little, at the level of our intellectual discourse, to prevent such possibilities. In the spirit of religious tolerance, most scientists are keeping silent when they should be blasting the hideous fantasies of a prior age with all the facts at their disposal.
To win this war of ideas, scientists and other rational people will need to find new ways of talking about ethics and spiritual experience. The distinction between science and religion is not a matter of excluding our ethical intuitions and non-ordinary states of consciousness from our conversation about the world; it is a matter of our being rigorous about what is reasonable to conclude on their basis. We must find ways of meeting our emotional needs that do not require the abject embrace of the preposterous. We must learn to invoke the power of ritual and to mark those transitions in every human life that demand profundity — birth, marriage, death, etc. — without lying to ourselves about the nature of reality.
I am hopeful that the necessary transformation in our thinking will come about as our scientific understanding of ourselves matures. When we find reliable ways to make human beings more loving, less fearful, and genuinely enraptured by the fact of our appearance in the cosmos, we will have no need for divisive religious myths. Only then will the practice of raising our children to believe that they are Christian, Jewish, Muslim, or Hindu be broadly recognized as the ludicrous obscenity that it is. And only then will we stand a chance of healing the deepest and most dangerous fractures in our world.
Monday, December 05, 2011
America's great leap forward in public education
Kidding, of course. Here's a great piece to provide a little perspective on the many areas in which we continue to fail our students, and thus, ourselves:
http://bigthink.com/ideas/41284
And here's the list of things successful schools do (not in America, of course) from a book called Surpassing Shanghai, which is featured in that piece:
1. Funding schools equitably, with additional resources for those serving needy students
2. Paying teachers competitively and comparably
3. Investing in high-quality preparation, mentoring and professional development for teachers and leaders, completely at government expense
4. Providing time in the school schedule for collaborative planning and ongoing professional learning to continually improve instruction
5. Organizing a curriculum around problem-solving and critical thinking skill
6. Testing students rarely but carefully -- with measures that require analysis, communication, and defense of ideas
Needless to say, these are all things teachers (and their unions, occasionally) and most folks who have actually studied education have been saying all along. But in America, we don't look to experts for input on how to reform schools. We turn to businessmen and politicians because business can always be trusted to solve all our problems. If only we can get those pesky regulations off their backs and cut their taxes!
By the way, how's that giant for-profit charter school corporation, White Hat, doing in Ohio these days? (you know, that gang who just knew they could make profitable, successful, easy work out of what those dumb, lazy, public school teachers were doing) Oh, wait, perhaps these headlines will remind us:
http://education.ohio.com/2011/04/akrons-white-hat-gets-poor-grades-for-students/
http://www.plunderbund.com/2011/05/02/gop-budget-rewards-white-hat-for-failing-ohios-children/
http://www.ohio.com/news/local-news/white-hat-employees-told-company-must-boost-enrollment-profits-1.248313
http://www.ohio.com/news/10-charter-schools-sue-white-hat-over-assets-1.182842
(ha, I could do this all night!)
http://stateimpact.npr.org/ohio/2011/12/02/memo-white-hat-charter-school-management-company-hasnt-met-financial-forecasts-for-the-last-five-years/
But hey, we're capitalists. For profit rules! Competition is the answer! Treat everything like a business. Adam Smith was an idiot, right?
Luth
Out
http://bigthink.com/ideas/41284
And here's the list of things successful schools do (not in America, of course) from a book called Surpassing Shanghai, which is featured in that piece:
1. Funding schools equitably, with additional resources for those serving needy students
2. Paying teachers competitively and comparably
3. Investing in high-quality preparation, mentoring and professional development for teachers and leaders, completely at government expense
4. Providing time in the school schedule for collaborative planning and ongoing professional learning to continually improve instruction
5. Organizing a curriculum around problem-solving and critical thinking skill
6. Testing students rarely but carefully -- with measures that require analysis, communication, and defense of ideas
Needless to say, these are all things teachers (and their unions, occasionally) and most folks who have actually studied education have been saying all along. But in America, we don't look to experts for input on how to reform schools. We turn to businessmen and politicians because business can always be trusted to solve all our problems. If only we can get those pesky regulations off their backs and cut their taxes!
By the way, how's that giant for-profit charter school corporation, White Hat, doing in Ohio these days? (you know, that gang who just knew they could make profitable, successful, easy work out of what those dumb, lazy, public school teachers were doing) Oh, wait, perhaps these headlines will remind us:
http://education.ohio.com/2011/04/akrons-white-hat-gets-poor-grades-for-students/
http://www.plunderbund.com/2011/05/02/gop-budget-rewards-white-hat-for-failing-ohios-children/
http://www.ohio.com/news/local-news/white-hat-employees-told-company-must-boost-enrollment-profits-1.248313
http://www.ohio.com/news/10-charter-schools-sue-white-hat-over-assets-1.182842
(ha, I could do this all night!)
http://stateimpact.npr.org/ohio/2011/12/02/memo-white-hat-charter-school-management-company-hasnt-met-financial-forecasts-for-the-last-five-years/
But hey, we're capitalists. For profit rules! Competition is the answer! Treat everything like a business. Adam Smith was an idiot, right?
Luth
Out
Wednesday, November 09, 2011
What changed MY mind about unions?
If you dig back far enough on this stupid blog, you'll find me whining somewhere about unions. I was never given the choice of joining them. I was either automatically enrolled, and dues taken from my pay, or I didn't get the job. Not only that, but as one of those employees who lives comfortably, firmly in the middle of the pack, they never really protected my job, kept me from getting fired, nor got me any kind of raise or bonus. In fact, as a result of a union deal requiring/taking away my ability to negotiate the number of years of service credit I would accept, I ended up costing too much to be hired back into a profession I loved. As far as I was concerned, unions were a lot like leeches - no longer necessary in the practice of medicine, and never all that helpful in the first place... to the average, rule following, performing employee who simply put in the day's work for the day's pay.
In fact, there was a time in my more naive youth when I truly felt that unions, like horses and buggies, were little more than nostalgic reminders of what we'd left behind. I valued OSHA and the worker's rights rules unions helped create. I had deep respect for the sweat shops they'd helped destroy, the child labor and unsafe working conditions they'd done away with, but their time had come. I thought. To this day I can't quite wrap my brain around the notion of a union employee, even a union executive making more than the people they represent (from those peoples' DUES!)
But the more I looked into Ronald Reagan's pro-union past, the more I learned about the current U.S. meat packing industry, in other words, the more I learned about that vast world around me I'd spent most of my life insulated from, the more I started to think differently. In fact, you might even say unions went from "outlived their usefulness" all the way to "necessary evil" in my opinion.
Of course, as my perspective expanded, my thoughts about unions changed even more. Ohio Senate Bill 5 served as my latest wake up call. In examining the ridiculously convoluted wording of the bill, searching the text and my feeble mind for how it could possibly save the state any money, and brainstorming what could possibly motivate anyone to propose such lunacy, it dawned on me that Gov. Kasich is the ideal stand in for billionaire CEOs and Ohio's public employees are the equivalents of labor - or as we're known these days, the 99%.
I continue to be amazed at my own capacity to learn as I get older, lazier, fatter. I also continue to be amazed at how many of my fellow Ohioans in the 99% inexplicably favor and vocally support rules that even further favor the 1%. I find that sometimes it helps to use pictures rather than our native language to explain how I arrive at some of my conclusions.
Take this picture, for instance:
It's a graph showing the disconnect between worker productivity and wages. Note the two used to be pretty good pals up until about 3rd quarter 1990. (if you're really curious, you can check out the EPI Analysis of BLS Labor Cost Indexes, or Issue Brief 297 from March 2011) Here's what the pictures tell us: While worker productivity went up 62.5% from 1989-2010, wages grew... wait for it... 12%.
Here's another way to look at it: corporate profits are up 20.2% above pre-recession figures while workers (from public and private sectors) now make 3% less than they did pre-recession.
How could this happen? Well, my simple mind would like to say that CEOs have abandonded all pretense of sharing the wealth with the employees who make them rich. In fact, the graph kind of shows just that, but I'm an idiot no one should ever believe. Let's use the EPI reports explanation as a starting point:
The answers lie in an economy that is designed to work for the well off and not to produce good jobs and improved living standards.
OK, that sounds kind of shitty too. So let's turn to the argument so many of my fellow 99%ers make when defending the drivel spewed by Fox news 99%ers: "That's why I went to college"
or "That's why I'm grateful I was raised with a strong work ethic."
These are admirable goals/traits, but they don't indicate an understanding of the most basic math. What the EPI report goes on to say in about a hundred different ways, is that none of that matters. It doesn't matter how hard you work, how many jobs you have, or how much education you have. Our economy is currently designed to favor the 1% of American earners who claimed 56% of the NATION's economic growth from 1998-2007. The bottom 90% of American households shared just 16% of that pie.
That bears repeating. Prior to our current recession, the top 1% of Americans claimed 56% of economic growth while the bottom 90% of Americans claimed 16% of that growth.
As long as we're repeating unbelievable figures, throughout the recession, the top 1% continue to prosper, posting profits 22% higher than pre-recession levels while employees now earn 3% LESS.
We 99%ers have to accept some of the blame for this. Over the past 30 years, we've enjoyed lower priced goods as a result of this economic policy design, but at what cost? In our quest for Wal-Mart prices, we've set the following as our priorities:
-deregulation of industries
-privatization of public services
-the weakening of labor standards including the minimum wage
-erosion of the social safety net
-expanding globalization and... wait for it...
-the move toward fewer and weaker unions
(EPI issue brief #297 page 2)
Or, to put it in a phrase: The Republican (and to a lesser degree, The Clinton) Way.
So that's where we stand today. It took 30 years to create this system and the public, private, and corporate debt that has come with it. We enjoyed it during more prosperous times. It sucks when it catches up with us, and the 99% are the ones who suffer.
The thing that many of our fellow 99%ers seem to forget is that this affects all of us, not just the folks on unemployment, not just the folks who march on Wall Street, and not just folks who didn't go to college. 99% is 99%, and unless you earn over a million a year, you're with me. More importantly, the reason this should call for change rather than just inspiring us to work harder or get another degree is that first chart. A 30 year trend of working harder that resulted only in our CEOs getting richer while they paid us less and less. A more shocking reason for a better response is that this gap in income distribution is approaching the levels that preceded the Great Depression. Ever heard of that economics experiment about income distribution on the island? Once it all lands in the hands of the tiny top percentage, everything grinds to a halt.
Those of you who oppose all manner of tax increases need to check the math again. Whenever you join the "anti-Death Tax" argument, you're arguing in favor of a gigantic cut in revenues for the benefit of about .06% of all Americans. And if Ayn Rand is your inspiration, why shouldn't inheritance be taxed? The heir didn't EARN that wealth. Hell, maybe ALL of it should be surrendered to the state! We should also point out that the top marginal rates haven't been lower since the direct aftermath of the Great Depression. Do we really want to wait until it comes to that to even out the tax burden again?
For more optimistic reading, check out Who Rules America at
or 15 Mind Blowing Fact about Wealth and Inequality in America from BusinessInsider.com at
So, to sum it up, if we continue to weaken unions and empower CEOs who have clearly lost the moral imperative to share the wealth their workforces bring them with their workforces, then who will speak up for us? What possible say will we ever have over our conditions. As employees, we won't even have the option of leaving a job 'cuz they'll all pay unlivable wages. Without the collective power of a national workforce, we are absolutely powerless to direct our own fates and conditions. Without unions, having any kind of say means some kind of revolution. Wouldn't it better just to stand up for negotiating power again?
And now for the Jerry Springer moment: Before you go criticizing the World War 2, Vietnam, Desert Storm, OEF and OIF vets (that Rush called parasites), the local bank managers, the college students, the bums, the nurses, firefighters, factory workers, sales professionals and the rest of your friends and neighbors who have joined the OWS gatherings, remember that you're probably one of them - one of the 99%, whether you can do the math or not. And for the life of me, would someone please explain why so many 99%ers continue to deride our cohort, and defend pro 1% policy?
Reminds me a lot of the old bumper sticker: "If you're a Republican and you're not rich, you're stupid." But that's a little harsh. In the interest of bipartisan peace and harmony, maybe we should update it to "If you're a Republican and you're not in the top 1%, you're stupid."
Hmmm, that doesn't really sound much better. I'll work on it some more.
Luth
Out
In fact, there was a time in my more naive youth when I truly felt that unions, like horses and buggies, were little more than nostalgic reminders of what we'd left behind. I valued OSHA and the worker's rights rules unions helped create. I had deep respect for the sweat shops they'd helped destroy, the child labor and unsafe working conditions they'd done away with, but their time had come. I thought. To this day I can't quite wrap my brain around the notion of a union employee, even a union executive making more than the people they represent (from those peoples' DUES!)
But the more I looked into Ronald Reagan's pro-union past, the more I learned about the current U.S. meat packing industry, in other words, the more I learned about that vast world around me I'd spent most of my life insulated from, the more I started to think differently. In fact, you might even say unions went from "outlived their usefulness" all the way to "necessary evil" in my opinion.
Of course, as my perspective expanded, my thoughts about unions changed even more. Ohio Senate Bill 5 served as my latest wake up call. In examining the ridiculously convoluted wording of the bill, searching the text and my feeble mind for how it could possibly save the state any money, and brainstorming what could possibly motivate anyone to propose such lunacy, it dawned on me that Gov. Kasich is the ideal stand in for billionaire CEOs and Ohio's public employees are the equivalents of labor - or as we're known these days, the 99%.
I continue to be amazed at my own capacity to learn as I get older, lazier, fatter. I also continue to be amazed at how many of my fellow Ohioans in the 99% inexplicably favor and vocally support rules that even further favor the 1%. I find that sometimes it helps to use pictures rather than our native language to explain how I arrive at some of my conclusions.
Take this picture, for instance:
It's a graph showing the disconnect between worker productivity and wages. Note the two used to be pretty good pals up until about 3rd quarter 1990. (if you're really curious, you can check out the EPI Analysis of BLS Labor Cost Indexes, or Issue Brief 297 from March 2011) Here's what the pictures tell us: While worker productivity went up 62.5% from 1989-2010, wages grew... wait for it... 12%.
Here's another way to look at it: corporate profits are up 20.2% above pre-recession figures while workers (from public and private sectors) now make 3% less than they did pre-recession.
How could this happen? Well, my simple mind would like to say that CEOs have abandonded all pretense of sharing the wealth with the employees who make them rich. In fact, the graph kind of shows just that, but I'm an idiot no one should ever believe. Let's use the EPI reports explanation as a starting point:
The answers lie in an economy that is designed to work for the well off and not to produce good jobs and improved living standards.
OK, that sounds kind of shitty too. So let's turn to the argument so many of my fellow 99%ers make when defending the drivel spewed by Fox news 99%ers: "That's why I went to college"
or "That's why I'm grateful I was raised with a strong work ethic."
These are admirable goals/traits, but they don't indicate an understanding of the most basic math. What the EPI report goes on to say in about a hundred different ways, is that none of that matters. It doesn't matter how hard you work, how many jobs you have, or how much education you have. Our economy is currently designed to favor the 1% of American earners who claimed 56% of the NATION's economic growth from 1998-2007. The bottom 90% of American households shared just 16% of that pie.
That bears repeating. Prior to our current recession, the top 1% of Americans claimed 56% of economic growth while the bottom 90% of Americans claimed 16% of that growth.
As long as we're repeating unbelievable figures, throughout the recession, the top 1% continue to prosper, posting profits 22% higher than pre-recession levels while employees now earn 3% LESS.
We 99%ers have to accept some of the blame for this. Over the past 30 years, we've enjoyed lower priced goods as a result of this economic policy design, but at what cost? In our quest for Wal-Mart prices, we've set the following as our priorities:
-deregulation of industries
-privatization of public services
-the weakening of labor standards including the minimum wage
-erosion of the social safety net
-expanding globalization and... wait for it...
-the move toward fewer and weaker unions
(EPI issue brief #297 page 2)
Or, to put it in a phrase: The Republican (and to a lesser degree, The Clinton) Way.
So that's where we stand today. It took 30 years to create this system and the public, private, and corporate debt that has come with it. We enjoyed it during more prosperous times. It sucks when it catches up with us, and the 99% are the ones who suffer.
The thing that many of our fellow 99%ers seem to forget is that this affects all of us, not just the folks on unemployment, not just the folks who march on Wall Street, and not just folks who didn't go to college. 99% is 99%, and unless you earn over a million a year, you're with me. More importantly, the reason this should call for change rather than just inspiring us to work harder or get another degree is that first chart. A 30 year trend of working harder that resulted only in our CEOs getting richer while they paid us less and less. A more shocking reason for a better response is that this gap in income distribution is approaching the levels that preceded the Great Depression. Ever heard of that economics experiment about income distribution on the island? Once it all lands in the hands of the tiny top percentage, everything grinds to a halt.
Those of you who oppose all manner of tax increases need to check the math again. Whenever you join the "anti-Death Tax" argument, you're arguing in favor of a gigantic cut in revenues for the benefit of about .06% of all Americans. And if Ayn Rand is your inspiration, why shouldn't inheritance be taxed? The heir didn't EARN that wealth. Hell, maybe ALL of it should be surrendered to the state! We should also point out that the top marginal rates haven't been lower since the direct aftermath of the Great Depression. Do we really want to wait until it comes to that to even out the tax burden again?
For more optimistic reading, check out Who Rules America at
or 15 Mind Blowing Fact about Wealth and Inequality in America from BusinessInsider.com at
So, to sum it up, if we continue to weaken unions and empower CEOs who have clearly lost the moral imperative to share the wealth their workforces bring them with their workforces, then who will speak up for us? What possible say will we ever have over our conditions. As employees, we won't even have the option of leaving a job 'cuz they'll all pay unlivable wages. Without the collective power of a national workforce, we are absolutely powerless to direct our own fates and conditions. Without unions, having any kind of say means some kind of revolution. Wouldn't it better just to stand up for negotiating power again?
And now for the Jerry Springer moment: Before you go criticizing the World War 2, Vietnam, Desert Storm, OEF and OIF vets (that Rush called parasites), the local bank managers, the college students, the bums, the nurses, firefighters, factory workers, sales professionals and the rest of your friends and neighbors who have joined the OWS gatherings, remember that you're probably one of them - one of the 99%, whether you can do the math or not. And for the life of me, would someone please explain why so many 99%ers continue to deride our cohort, and defend pro 1% policy?
Reminds me a lot of the old bumper sticker: "If you're a Republican and you're not rich, you're stupid." But that's a little harsh. In the interest of bipartisan peace and harmony, maybe we should update it to "If you're a Republican and you're not in the top 1%, you're stupid."
Hmmm, that doesn't really sound much better. I'll work on it some more.
Luth
Out
Tuesday, November 01, 2011
The Astute Mr. Limbaugh
One of my favorite, oft-deployed Rush Limbaugh quotes is, "words have meanings." It's been quite a while, but I believe Mr. Limbaugh used this decree to criticize someone for saying something Rush felt he or she must not have meant. (Rush KNOWS!) This favorite Rush quote of mine makes this image that much more intriguing:
I stumbled across the image via a Cake Music alert on Facebook. A guy by the name of Tom Remington posted it there. The photo shows up (unaccredited) on the Washington's Blog as well, along with several other photos of veterans from various wars joining the 99%.
Words do in fact have meanings, Mr. Limbaugh. Is there some meaning of "parasite" of which I'm not aware that you chose to apply to those who served where you would not?
Luth
Out
I stumbled across the image via a Cake Music alert on Facebook. A guy by the name of Tom Remington posted it there. The photo shows up (unaccredited) on the Washington's Blog as well, along with several other photos of veterans from various wars joining the 99%.
Words do in fact have meanings, Mr. Limbaugh. Is there some meaning of "parasite" of which I'm not aware that you chose to apply to those who served where you would not?
Luth
Out
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Ohio Issue 2 Debate
I tried to watch the debate of Ohio Issue 2 tonight, but after hearing Sen. Keith Faber argue the pro-2 side for about 10 minutes, I had to quit so I could go read the issue language again. Based on Sen. Faber's replies to former Sen. Dennis Eckart's statements, I was pretty sure I was confused about issue 2. I thought it was about limiting the rights of public employees to collective bargaining on most matters that most folks generally feel workers should have some kind of say in.
According to Sen. Faber, Issue 2 is about cutting spending and lowering taxes. In fact, I half expected the state's web page to include that very language when I looked it up. It's all he kept repeating. Heck, if that's the case, who wouldn't want to keep SB 5?
As it turns out, that's not really what Ohio 2 is about. The state's official web site confirms that Issue 2 does in fact limit public employees' collective bargaining rights to just about anything management doesn't want to discuss. The first line of the official summary says this:
Permits public employers to not bargain on any subject reserved to the management and direction of the governmental unit, even if the subject affects wages, hours, and terms and conditions of employment.
Hmmm. Now where would anyone opposed to Issue 2 get the idea that it restricts or even prohibits in many cases the right of public employees to collectively bargain the terms and conditions of their work? Oh, yeah, the language of the fricking bill, that's where.
Now that's weird because in between telling us that Issue 2 was about cutting taxes and lowering spending, Sen. Faber also said repeatedly that the law would NOT limit public employees' rights to bargain.
Now you can understand why I gave up trying to follow it.
Look, even Ronald Reagan, six-time president of the AFL-CIO Screen Actors Guild, and the ONLY U.S. President who was a union member, said, "...the most elemental of human rights - the right to belong to a free trade union." I'm reminding Republicans of this? I never even liked unions who forced dues from my wallet without my say. But the more I look at this blatant attempt to add a "union buster" notch to the old campaign belt with no regard for the stated purpose of the bill (saving the state money), the more I think Kasich, Faber, and their gang are snakes who have no idea what they're doing in Columbus other than making sure they and their friends stay rich at our expense.
The Unites States of America is a union. A union is nothing more than a group of people organized for a common purpose. If Governor Kasich can't negotiate with Ohio's public employee unions, let's repeal both him and his SB 5 and find someone who can. Let's not support his childish efforts to "show them!" Seriously, it's as if SB 5 is his way of taking his ball and going home because he was thrown out by someone's little sister at 1st base.
Note the confusion of the wording and response to the issue. First, the issue is a repeal of an existing law. One would think voting yes on a repeal would do away with the law in question, but Kasich's Secretary of State ensured the ballot language ends up just the opposite of this logical assumption.
The first line in the summary on the state's page is purposely strange as well: Permits public employers to NOT bargain. How to you permit someone to not do something. Why not just say "prohibits?" Well, that's because no one on the side of 2 is willing to come out and say it prohibits collective bargaining, but that's exactly what it does.
It seems like every attempt is being made to deceive Ohioans as to what the issue is actually about. Perhaps that's because supporters know that SB 5 - the law repealed by a NO vote on Issue 2 (that's clear, right?) - is doomed. An overwhelming number of petition signatures to put the issue on the ballot were collected. The handful of supporters reads like the handful of people who have continued to get rich as our recession roller coaster begins it's second dip. It appears to be less than 1% of our population.
Faber also argued that one good reason to support Issue 2 is because taxpayers don't want unelected officials (union bosses) telling public employers what they have to pay their employees. And yet, what the law provides for is a panel of 12 folks, none of whom were elected, to determine benefit and compensation packages for teachers and other public employees. So the law codifies exactly what Faber says taxpayers don't want. That's a strange way to win support.
Reminds me of a slew of Ohio governors who gradually did away with Ohio's former elected state school board and replaced them with governor-appointed "education experts." This began back when the first lawsuit claiming Ohio's public school funding system was unconstitutional was won. (A decision supported by the Ohio Supreme Court but largely ignored by every governor since except Strickland, who inherited Taft's deficits and this recession and was thus powerless to really address the issue).
In addition to the sneaky language, the common sense appeal of the opposition, and the support across the state to repeal the bill, there are plenty of other reasons to hate SB 5. Although Faber flat out stated that passage of 2 would just as likely INCREASE public employee salaries, it's somehow going to save the state money.
The money it's going to save comes from RAISING the salaries of 360,000 public employees?? Of course not. Those salaries will have to be cut in order for the bill to save money, OR the number of employees will have to be cut. Does your police or fire department have a bunch of extra guys sitting around all day? Does your high school have way too many teachers? Do they all drive Ferraris off duty? Even if we do cut these salaries, how much do we expect to save? And wouldn't any savings be offset by the cuts in personal spending these laid off or demoted employees have to implement at home? Well, probably not, since these personal budgets are probably already scaled back to levels Gov. Kasich can't even fathom. There's not a lot to scale back when you can only afford the staples to begin with, and let's face it, police, firefighters, teachers et al aren't exactly going to be cutting out a new yacht this season in order to scale back. Just as a flat tax benefits only the rich, SB 5 hurts MOST Ohioans.
C'mon people. SB 5 was railroaded through to begin with by a bunch of idiots we put in office for no better reason than because we were pissed at their collective ineptitude to begin with. SB 5 slithering through the Ohio Legislature is the result of our voting pissed at the last mid-term. Let's not make this mistake again.
Destroy Issue 2 in November, then send Kasich back to Wall Street, and let's try to elect a Governor who's more concerned with actually leading Ohio than he (or she) is with scoring partisan points and keeping his circle of friends rich at every Ohioan's expense.
Supporters of SB 5 and Issue 2 don't give a damn about saving the state money. They seek only the political victory of breaking up the state's public employee unions. If they are successful, they'll turn all state jobs into dead end positions no one ever wants. You think our roads are bad now? You think your county office provides poor customer service now? Just wait. The only plan this gang has for saving Ohio any money is by selling off all of Ohio's valuable assets: the lottery, the turnpike. So what do we do in the next term when we don't have anything left to sell? And if these things can be run so profitably by private owners, why can't the Governor make them profitable for the state? Is it because we Ohioans don't deserve the profit like Kasich's old colleagues from Lehman Bros?
Support the folks who run in while the rest of us run out. At least let them continue to have a say in their working conditions, salary, and benefits packages. And if you're one of those folks who thinks teachers and other state employees have life soooooo great, then become one, and VOTE NO on Issue 2.
According to Sen. Faber, Issue 2 is about cutting spending and lowering taxes. In fact, I half expected the state's web page to include that very language when I looked it up. It's all he kept repeating. Heck, if that's the case, who wouldn't want to keep SB 5?
As it turns out, that's not really what Ohio 2 is about. The state's official web site confirms that Issue 2 does in fact limit public employees' collective bargaining rights to just about anything management doesn't want to discuss. The first line of the official summary says this:
Permits public employers to not bargain on any subject reserved to the management and direction of the governmental unit, even if the subject affects wages, hours, and terms and conditions of employment.
Hmmm. Now where would anyone opposed to Issue 2 get the idea that it restricts or even prohibits in many cases the right of public employees to collectively bargain the terms and conditions of their work? Oh, yeah, the language of the fricking bill, that's where.
Now that's weird because in between telling us that Issue 2 was about cutting taxes and lowering spending, Sen. Faber also said repeatedly that the law would NOT limit public employees' rights to bargain.
Now you can understand why I gave up trying to follow it.
Look, even Ronald Reagan, six-time president of the AFL-CIO Screen Actors Guild, and the ONLY U.S. President who was a union member, said, "...the most elemental of human rights - the right to belong to a free trade union." I'm reminding Republicans of this? I never even liked unions who forced dues from my wallet without my say. But the more I look at this blatant attempt to add a "union buster" notch to the old campaign belt with no regard for the stated purpose of the bill (saving the state money), the more I think Kasich, Faber, and their gang are snakes who have no idea what they're doing in Columbus other than making sure they and their friends stay rich at our expense.
The Unites States of America is a union. A union is nothing more than a group of people organized for a common purpose. If Governor Kasich can't negotiate with Ohio's public employee unions, let's repeal both him and his SB 5 and find someone who can. Let's not support his childish efforts to "show them!" Seriously, it's as if SB 5 is his way of taking his ball and going home because he was thrown out by someone's little sister at 1st base.
Note the confusion of the wording and response to the issue. First, the issue is a repeal of an existing law. One would think voting yes on a repeal would do away with the law in question, but Kasich's Secretary of State ensured the ballot language ends up just the opposite of this logical assumption.
The first line in the summary on the state's page is purposely strange as well: Permits public employers to NOT bargain. How to you permit someone to not do something. Why not just say "prohibits?" Well, that's because no one on the side of 2 is willing to come out and say it prohibits collective bargaining, but that's exactly what it does.
It seems like every attempt is being made to deceive Ohioans as to what the issue is actually about. Perhaps that's because supporters know that SB 5 - the law repealed by a NO vote on Issue 2 (that's clear, right?) - is doomed. An overwhelming number of petition signatures to put the issue on the ballot were collected. The handful of supporters reads like the handful of people who have continued to get rich as our recession roller coaster begins it's second dip. It appears to be less than 1% of our population.
Faber also argued that one good reason to support Issue 2 is because taxpayers don't want unelected officials (union bosses) telling public employers what they have to pay their employees. And yet, what the law provides for is a panel of 12 folks, none of whom were elected, to determine benefit and compensation packages for teachers and other public employees. So the law codifies exactly what Faber says taxpayers don't want. That's a strange way to win support.
Reminds me of a slew of Ohio governors who gradually did away with Ohio's former elected state school board and replaced them with governor-appointed "education experts." This began back when the first lawsuit claiming Ohio's public school funding system was unconstitutional was won. (A decision supported by the Ohio Supreme Court but largely ignored by every governor since except Strickland, who inherited Taft's deficits and this recession and was thus powerless to really address the issue).
In addition to the sneaky language, the common sense appeal of the opposition, and the support across the state to repeal the bill, there are plenty of other reasons to hate SB 5. Although Faber flat out stated that passage of 2 would just as likely INCREASE public employee salaries, it's somehow going to save the state money.
The money it's going to save comes from RAISING the salaries of 360,000 public employees?? Of course not. Those salaries will have to be cut in order for the bill to save money, OR the number of employees will have to be cut. Does your police or fire department have a bunch of extra guys sitting around all day? Does your high school have way too many teachers? Do they all drive Ferraris off duty? Even if we do cut these salaries, how much do we expect to save? And wouldn't any savings be offset by the cuts in personal spending these laid off or demoted employees have to implement at home? Well, probably not, since these personal budgets are probably already scaled back to levels Gov. Kasich can't even fathom. There's not a lot to scale back when you can only afford the staples to begin with, and let's face it, police, firefighters, teachers et al aren't exactly going to be cutting out a new yacht this season in order to scale back. Just as a flat tax benefits only the rich, SB 5 hurts MOST Ohioans.
C'mon people. SB 5 was railroaded through to begin with by a bunch of idiots we put in office for no better reason than because we were pissed at their collective ineptitude to begin with. SB 5 slithering through the Ohio Legislature is the result of our voting pissed at the last mid-term. Let's not make this mistake again.
Destroy Issue 2 in November, then send Kasich back to Wall Street, and let's try to elect a Governor who's more concerned with actually leading Ohio than he (or she) is with scoring partisan points and keeping his circle of friends rich at every Ohioan's expense.
Supporters of SB 5 and Issue 2 don't give a damn about saving the state money. They seek only the political victory of breaking up the state's public employee unions. If they are successful, they'll turn all state jobs into dead end positions no one ever wants. You think our roads are bad now? You think your county office provides poor customer service now? Just wait. The only plan this gang has for saving Ohio any money is by selling off all of Ohio's valuable assets: the lottery, the turnpike. So what do we do in the next term when we don't have anything left to sell? And if these things can be run so profitably by private owners, why can't the Governor make them profitable for the state? Is it because we Ohioans don't deserve the profit like Kasich's old colleagues from Lehman Bros?
Support the folks who run in while the rest of us run out. At least let them continue to have a say in their working conditions, salary, and benefits packages. And if you're one of those folks who thinks teachers and other state employees have life soooooo great, then become one, and VOTE NO on Issue 2.
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