"Rise up and take the power back!
It's time the fat cats had a heart attack.
You know that their time is coming to an end.
We have to unify and watch our flag ascend."
About a year ago (on a Friday), the governor of Wisconsin introduced a Budget Repair Bill that "proposed taking away the ability of public sector unions to bargain collectively over pensions and health care and limiting pay raises of public employees to the rate of inflation, as well as ending automatic union dues collection by the state and requiring public unions to recertify annually."(q) By Monday (Valentine's Day) the people of Wisconsin were already making their voices heard. The protests grew in the days and weeks that followed as the governor (and his supporters) refused to back down from the controversial position that such a move was necessary. So 'necessary' in fact, that it had to be passed with a protocol-bending slight-of-hand that catapulted even the most reticent among us out of our respective reveries.
'Necessity' (or the great lack thereof) aside, what sparked outrage and indignation was the way in which people felt they were being treated by their 'representative' government. Media critic John Nichols has written a new book chronicling the protests in Wisconsin that marked the year 2011. Uprising: How Wisconsin Renewed the Politics of Protest, from Madison to Wall Street is a considered attempt to discuss "how one uprising inspires the next" and "what an uprising and its aftermath may mean for labor, for popular organizing, for media reform, for politics, for democracy." Nichols is not afraid to say that "crooked politicians [were] conniving to take away the essential rights of working people," and to liken the subsequent attempts to remake relevant legislative processes to "Orwellian fantasy" and "way stations on a road map to ruin." Prescient words from Nichols, as new information comes to light just days before his book is officially released. Republican lawmakers in Wisconsin "took the unusual step of signing a legal agreement in which they promised to not comment publicly about redistricting discussions while new GOP-friendly maps were being drafted." (q) Not comment publicly?? As in not answer to the public that elected you and for whom you are supposed to work?!? Cue the outrage and indignation...
So much has been already said about the influence of corporations on government. But corporations are built on the backs of workers - workers who are often degraded in a dozen small and not-so-small ways. Those workers are us. The future of this country isn't going to be shaped by our science or our religion; it will be shaped by what we as workers are willing to endure for the illusion of economic security. And in a day where corporate promises are so easily broken, unemployment is so easily attainable, and the average American is so easily bankrupted by unforeseen circumstances, illusion it is, for 99% of us at least.
Nichols fills his book with inspiring quotes, such as this... "The question will arise and arise in your day, though perhaps not fully in mine: Which shall rule, wealth or man? Which shall lead, money or intellect? Who shall fill public stations, educated and patriotic freemen, or the feudal serfs of corporate capital?" And yet it seems as if Nichols is content to decry the current state of affairs and suggest the political changes that others might implement. He does not convincingly assume the mantle so often heard by the protesters - an injury to one is an injury to all. But then... who among us really does?
What Nichols fails to identify in his otherwise well-written book: Political action, though necessary, will not be sufficient. We cannot legislate others into caring about the burdens of their neighbors anymore than we can legislate them into acting in accordance with any other aspect of our own values. Attempting to do so only provokes the inevitable rebellion.
But we can attempt to make others see the reality of 'an injury to one is an injury to all'. And that reality is this... If there are any workers who can be denied benefits, a living wage, or a reasonable schedule, then those conditions can (and will) easily become a reality for everyone, because everyone is easily replaced with someone who is willing to put up with just a little bit more for the same (or less) compensation. That will always be the case in a society where workers outnumber jobs, and the conditions for workers grow worse as the number of potential replacements increases relative to the number of jobs. Those who are desperate for work may not be able to see past their own immediate emergencies, but those who are relatively secure in their employment bear the responsibility of seeing that that security does not come at the expense of others. It's not an easy responsibility to bear; we are not biologically or psychologically wired for self-sacrifice. We have no cultural imperative to work for the collective good. But perhaps, when enough of us have suffered, we will rise up and make the cultural changes that are necessary for lasting, non-illusory security.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Second Bill of Rights
"We cannot be content, no matter how high that general standard of living may be, if some fraction of our people—whether it be one-third or one-fifth or one-tenth—is ill-fed, ill-clothed, ill-housed, and insecure.
This Republic had its beginning, and grew to its present strength, under the protection of certain inalienable political rights—among them the right of free speech, free press, free worship, trial by jury, freedom from unreasonable searches and seizures. They were our rights to life and liberty.
As our nation has grown in size and stature, however—as our industrial economy expanded—these political rights proved inadequate to assure us equality in the pursuit of happiness.
We have come to a clear realization of the fact that true individual freedom cannot exist without economic security and independence. “Necessitous men are not free men.” People who are hungry and out of a job are the stuff of which dictatorships are made.
In our day these economic truths have become accepted as self-evident. We have accepted, so to speak, a second Bill of Rights under which a new basis of security and prosperity can be established for all—regardless of station, race, or creed.
Among these are:
The right to a useful and remunerative job in the industries or shops or farms or mines of the nation;
The right to earn enough to provide adequate food and clothing and recreation;
The right of every farmer to raise and sell his products at a return which will give him and his family a decent living;
The right of every businessman, large and small, to trade in an atmosphere of freedom from unfair competition and domination by monopolies at home or abroad;
The right of every family to a decent home;
The right to adequate medical care and the opportunity to achieve and enjoy good health;
The right to adequate protection from the economic fears of old age, sickness, accident, and unemployment;
The right to a good education.
All of these rights spell security. And after this war is won we must be prepared to move forward, in the implementation of these rights, to new goals of human happiness and well-being.
America's own rightful place in the world depends in large part upon how fully these and similar rights have been carried into practice for all our citizens.
For unless there is security here at home there cannot be lasting peace in the world."
- Excerpt from President Roosevelt's January 11, 1944 message to the Congress of the United States on the State of the Union.
This Republic had its beginning, and grew to its present strength, under the protection of certain inalienable political rights—among them the right of free speech, free press, free worship, trial by jury, freedom from unreasonable searches and seizures. They were our rights to life and liberty.
As our nation has grown in size and stature, however—as our industrial economy expanded—these political rights proved inadequate to assure us equality in the pursuit of happiness.
We have come to a clear realization of the fact that true individual freedom cannot exist without economic security and independence. “Necessitous men are not free men.” People who are hungry and out of a job are the stuff of which dictatorships are made.
In our day these economic truths have become accepted as self-evident. We have accepted, so to speak, a second Bill of Rights under which a new basis of security and prosperity can be established for all—regardless of station, race, or creed.
Among these are:
The right to a useful and remunerative job in the industries or shops or farms or mines of the nation;
The right to earn enough to provide adequate food and clothing and recreation;
The right of every farmer to raise and sell his products at a return which will give him and his family a decent living;
The right of every businessman, large and small, to trade in an atmosphere of freedom from unfair competition and domination by monopolies at home or abroad;
The right of every family to a decent home;
The right to adequate medical care and the opportunity to achieve and enjoy good health;
The right to adequate protection from the economic fears of old age, sickness, accident, and unemployment;
The right to a good education.
All of these rights spell security. And after this war is won we must be prepared to move forward, in the implementation of these rights, to new goals of human happiness and well-being.
America's own rightful place in the world depends in large part upon how fully these and similar rights have been carried into practice for all our citizens.
For unless there is security here at home there cannot be lasting peace in the world."
- Excerpt from President Roosevelt's January 11, 1944 message to the Congress of the United States on the State of the Union.
Friday, February 3, 2012
The Power of Now (Pt I)
"I come clad only in the garments of today, with no mantle of history about me."
Every once in a while I'll be reading a book (usually fiction) and my progress will come to a crashing halt when I come upon a totally brilliant sentence. The above quote slammed me and I had to stop reading and ponder it.
I should point out that I have not yet read the Eckhart Tolle book whose title I borrowed for this post. I suppose that's because I see a lot of potential in the title, and I'm a bit afraid that the book itself will disappoint. (This despite 1,200+ readers' mostly high opinions of the book.)
I started think about the power of now not long ago while listening to a friend of mine talk about how she and her husband wanted a new camper (and the requisite class 3 tow vehicle) in the next two years. The last time I had any solid plans for the next two years of my life I was in grad school, and the plan was simply to finish grad school. (And this was about 10 years ago.) I had to wonder if I did (or should) envy her...
Now, perhaps, you can understand how I came to fixate on the above quote. (To be fair, for other reasons, I was also thinking about how the past is frequently a barrier to moving forward, in relationships and/or life in general.) If one were to construct a ritual for moving beyond some painful moment, either personally or in relation to another, I can see that sentence forming the basis of such a ritual. An expression of forgiveness, in response to an apology. A more elegant way of saying "It is forgotten." (Such are the digressions of my mind, stemming, I suspect, from heavy exposure to science fiction.)
Then, of course, I had to wonder exactly how far one could push the concept of now-centric living and now-centric relationships. Conventional, bald-tv-psychologist wisdom says that past behavior is the best predictor of future behavior. Is it really wise to ignore the past, especially if it contains some powerful indicators of how one might be hurt in the future? What is the difference between acknowledging the lessons of the past, and being held hostage by the past? Is it as dysfunctional to cling to the 'lessons' of the past as it is to cling to idealistic dreams of a better future?
I was a little surprised to see that Tolle had a section on relationships in his book. Though the languages they speak are quite different, Tolle and bald-tv-psychologist wisdom agree on one thing: "The greatest catalyst for change in a relationship is complete acceptance of your partner as he or she is, without needing to judge or change them in any way." (p. 98) Now I was curious to see what Tolle had to say about dealing with/ moving past past behavior...
"Millions are now living alone or as single parents, unable to establish an intimate relationship or unwilling to repeat the insane drama of past relationships. Others go from one relationship to another, from one pleasure-and-pain cycle to another, in search of the elusive goal of fulfillment through union with the opposite energy polarity. Still others compromise and continue to be together in a dysfunctional relationship in which negativity prevails, for the sake of the children or security, through force of habit, fear of being alone, or some other mutually 'beneficial' arrangement, or even through the unconscious addiction to the excitement of emotional drama and pain." (p. 100)
I won't pretend to be a fluent speaker of the language in which Tolle's answer was couched - "egoic mind patterns" and the "pain-body" - so I'm not quite sure how he gets to his conclusion. "So whenever your relationship is not working, whenever it brings out the 'madness' in you and in your partner, be glad." Er? "Being the knowing creates a clear space of loving presence that allows all things and all people to be as they are." Eh?
But Tolle soon converges with conventional wisdom again. "Learn to give expression to what you feel without blaming. Learn to listen to your partner in an open, nondefensive way. Give your partner space for expressing himself or herself." (p. 102) Still... I don't see that the emphasis there is particularly now-centric...
Every decision we make, every path taken (or not), represents an allocation of resources towards one goal at the expense of others. Such assessment of priorities is only possible in light of a hierarchy of knowledge about the past. What guides our actions in the absence of a 'mantle of history'?
Every once in a while I'll be reading a book (usually fiction) and my progress will come to a crashing halt when I come upon a totally brilliant sentence. The above quote slammed me and I had to stop reading and ponder it.
I should point out that I have not yet read the Eckhart Tolle book whose title I borrowed for this post. I suppose that's because I see a lot of potential in the title, and I'm a bit afraid that the book itself will disappoint. (This despite 1,200+ readers' mostly high opinions of the book.)
I started think about the power of now not long ago while listening to a friend of mine talk about how she and her husband wanted a new camper (and the requisite class 3 tow vehicle) in the next two years. The last time I had any solid plans for the next two years of my life I was in grad school, and the plan was simply to finish grad school. (And this was about 10 years ago.) I had to wonder if I did (or should) envy her...
Now, perhaps, you can understand how I came to fixate on the above quote. (To be fair, for other reasons, I was also thinking about how the past is frequently a barrier to moving forward, in relationships and/or life in general.) If one were to construct a ritual for moving beyond some painful moment, either personally or in relation to another, I can see that sentence forming the basis of such a ritual. An expression of forgiveness, in response to an apology. A more elegant way of saying "It is forgotten." (Such are the digressions of my mind, stemming, I suspect, from heavy exposure to science fiction.)
Then, of course, I had to wonder exactly how far one could push the concept of now-centric living and now-centric relationships. Conventional, bald-tv-psychologist wisdom says that past behavior is the best predictor of future behavior. Is it really wise to ignore the past, especially if it contains some powerful indicators of how one might be hurt in the future? What is the difference between acknowledging the lessons of the past, and being held hostage by the past? Is it as dysfunctional to cling to the 'lessons' of the past as it is to cling to idealistic dreams of a better future?
I was a little surprised to see that Tolle had a section on relationships in his book. Though the languages they speak are quite different, Tolle and bald-tv-psychologist wisdom agree on one thing: "The greatest catalyst for change in a relationship is complete acceptance of your partner as he or she is, without needing to judge or change them in any way." (p. 98) Now I was curious to see what Tolle had to say about dealing with/ moving past past behavior...
"Millions are now living alone or as single parents, unable to establish an intimate relationship or unwilling to repeat the insane drama of past relationships. Others go from one relationship to another, from one pleasure-and-pain cycle to another, in search of the elusive goal of fulfillment through union with the opposite energy polarity. Still others compromise and continue to be together in a dysfunctional relationship in which negativity prevails, for the sake of the children or security, through force of habit, fear of being alone, or some other mutually 'beneficial' arrangement, or even through the unconscious addiction to the excitement of emotional drama and pain." (p. 100)
I won't pretend to be a fluent speaker of the language in which Tolle's answer was couched - "egoic mind patterns" and the "pain-body" - so I'm not quite sure how he gets to his conclusion. "So whenever your relationship is not working, whenever it brings out the 'madness' in you and in your partner, be glad." Er? "Being the knowing creates a clear space of loving presence that allows all things and all people to be as they are." Eh?
But Tolle soon converges with conventional wisdom again. "Learn to give expression to what you feel without blaming. Learn to listen to your partner in an open, nondefensive way. Give your partner space for expressing himself or herself." (p. 102) Still... I don't see that the emphasis there is particularly now-centric...
Every decision we make, every path taken (or not), represents an allocation of resources towards one goal at the expense of others. Such assessment of priorities is only possible in light of a hierarchy of knowledge about the past. What guides our actions in the absence of a 'mantle of history'?
Sunday, July 31, 2011
The Dance of the Dissident Daughter
"The stupidest norm was happier; he could feel that he belonged. We did not, and because we did not, we had no positive - we were condemned to negatives, to not revealing ourselves, to not speaking when we would, to not using what we knew, to not being found out - to a life of perpetual deception, concealment, and lying."
Yesterday I participated in a mock interview exercise. (I don't really know why I did it; interviews don't scare me. Having to be inappropriately employed scares me...) We got to the end of the mock interview, and the gentleman, in reviewing it with me, says, with all apparent sincerity, "I can tell you're a really genuine person." At which point I almost said "You bought that load of bullshit?!?"
Admittedly it wasn't complete bullshit. But let's just say that the past and I have choreographed a set of moves that hides our respective flaws and that can appear quite... genuine when necessary. Upon reflection, I suspect the gentleman (whom I've known to be quite insightful) might have intentionally planted that statement to cause me to reflect on what I was really doing in playing this game. Why was I so good at projecting a genuineness that wasn't entirely genuine? And why was I willing to do it at all?
If there has been an underlying theme of reflection in my summer thus far, it has been Authenticity. Several autobiographies that chronicle women's struggles to find and be their authentic selves have presented themselves at (one might say) oddly synchronous times. I've lately come to terms with the fact that my weight fluctuates in direct proportion with how (pardon the phrase) inauthentically I'm living at the time. And in a rather uncharacteristic display of temper, I recently lost it at the person who suggested that I "probably shouldn't tell people that you have a Ph.D." (For the record, telling people that I have a Ph.D. is not something I do, but in context, the suggestion was that I should 'dumb down' my level of discourse, especially if I "wanted to attract a husband.") Perhaps my reflecting on authenticity is also what caused me to give the gentleman more credit than he may deserve in making his statement about my genuineness.
Living an 'authentic life' is a hot topic right now in quasi-spiritual literature. "The idea of being authentic has caught our attention much like the word empowered did a few years ago." (q) Despite the prevalence of advice on authentic living, I have not dwelt much on other people's thoughts on the subject. (What can I say? I have a general aversion to received wisdom. People's brutally honest autobiographies, however, are another story.) One meta-reflection has stood out to me though. According to Maslow, "the most basic level of needs must be met before the individual will strongly desire (or focus motivation upon) the secondary or higher level needs." Rough translation - you won't be worrying about "becom[ing] everything that one is capable of becoming" if you are worried about being homeless. That so many people (including my unemployed self) can be concerned at all with living an authentic life says something...
Perhaps the struggle for authenticity isn't what Maslow was referring to in his description of struggling for/towards self-actualization. Maslow did describe self-actualized people as possessing "an unusual ability to detect the spurious, the fake, and the dishonest in personality," as well as "embrac[ing] reality and facts rather than denying truth." Yet you could argue that authenticity is merely one of the characteristics of self-actualization. But if the need for authenticity does not emerge as a part of the need for self-actualization, then where does it come from? What gives rise to the feeling of misery when one compromises authenticity to fulfill the more basic need for (economic) safety?
"Being authentic is being able to say yes when you mean it and no when you need to." (q) And in a world where doing so would not negatively affect your ability to meet any of your lower level needs, you could probably do that. Most of us are stopped from being authentic in that way because we have learned that compromise is necessary in order to meet the needs for safety and love. To suggest otherwise is to suggest a radically different view of what reality is, and leaves us with visions of a universe that rewards desire, want, and selfishness. Dissident thoughts indeed.
One of the few things I remember from Sunday School is that JOY was presented to us as an acronym. In order to have joy in your life, you needed to put Jesus first, Others second, and Yourself last. And indeed, to make misery bearable, we often tell ourselves that love is putting yourself last. So which is it? Putting yourself first and living 'authentically', or putting yourself last in the spirit of service to others/a higher purpose? Ironically, both perspectives are attached to 'spiritual' ideas about what reality is - ideas that provide justification and reward for those who follow their tenets, though the rewards take radically different forms.
Perhaps the truth is simply that people will be as selfish as they can comfortably be in any given situation, and will adopt whatever philosophy (or combination of philosophies) is necessary in order to feel better about their choices...
Yesterday I participated in a mock interview exercise. (I don't really know why I did it; interviews don't scare me. Having to be inappropriately employed scares me...) We got to the end of the mock interview, and the gentleman, in reviewing it with me, says, with all apparent sincerity, "I can tell you're a really genuine person." At which point I almost said "You bought that load of bullshit?!?"
Admittedly it wasn't complete bullshit. But let's just say that the past and I have choreographed a set of moves that hides our respective flaws and that can appear quite... genuine when necessary. Upon reflection, I suspect the gentleman (whom I've known to be quite insightful) might have intentionally planted that statement to cause me to reflect on what I was really doing in playing this game. Why was I so good at projecting a genuineness that wasn't entirely genuine? And why was I willing to do it at all?
If there has been an underlying theme of reflection in my summer thus far, it has been Authenticity. Several autobiographies that chronicle women's struggles to find and be their authentic selves have presented themselves at (one might say) oddly synchronous times. I've lately come to terms with the fact that my weight fluctuates in direct proportion with how (pardon the phrase) inauthentically I'm living at the time. And in a rather uncharacteristic display of temper, I recently lost it at the person who suggested that I "probably shouldn't tell people that you have a Ph.D." (For the record, telling people that I have a Ph.D. is not something I do, but in context, the suggestion was that I should 'dumb down' my level of discourse, especially if I "wanted to attract a husband.") Perhaps my reflecting on authenticity is also what caused me to give the gentleman more credit than he may deserve in making his statement about my genuineness.
Living an 'authentic life' is a hot topic right now in quasi-spiritual literature. "The idea of being authentic has caught our attention much like the word empowered did a few years ago." (q) Despite the prevalence of advice on authentic living, I have not dwelt much on other people's thoughts on the subject. (What can I say? I have a general aversion to received wisdom. People's brutally honest autobiographies, however, are another story.) One meta-reflection has stood out to me though. According to Maslow, "the most basic level of needs must be met before the individual will strongly desire (or focus motivation upon) the secondary or higher level needs." Rough translation - you won't be worrying about "becom[ing] everything that one is capable of becoming" if you are worried about being homeless. That so many people (including my unemployed self) can be concerned at all with living an authentic life says something...
Perhaps the struggle for authenticity isn't what Maslow was referring to in his description of struggling for/towards self-actualization. Maslow did describe self-actualized people as possessing "an unusual ability to detect the spurious, the fake, and the dishonest in personality," as well as "embrac[ing] reality and facts rather than denying truth." Yet you could argue that authenticity is merely one of the characteristics of self-actualization. But if the need for authenticity does not emerge as a part of the need for self-actualization, then where does it come from? What gives rise to the feeling of misery when one compromises authenticity to fulfill the more basic need for (economic) safety?
"Being authentic is being able to say yes when you mean it and no when you need to." (q) And in a world where doing so would not negatively affect your ability to meet any of your lower level needs, you could probably do that. Most of us are stopped from being authentic in that way because we have learned that compromise is necessary in order to meet the needs for safety and love. To suggest otherwise is to suggest a radically different view of what reality is, and leaves us with visions of a universe that rewards desire, want, and selfishness. Dissident thoughts indeed.
One of the few things I remember from Sunday School is that JOY was presented to us as an acronym. In order to have joy in your life, you needed to put Jesus first, Others second, and Yourself last. And indeed, to make misery bearable, we often tell ourselves that love is putting yourself last. So which is it? Putting yourself first and living 'authentically', or putting yourself last in the spirit of service to others/a higher purpose? Ironically, both perspectives are attached to 'spiritual' ideas about what reality is - ideas that provide justification and reward for those who follow their tenets, though the rewards take radically different forms.
Perhaps the truth is simply that people will be as selfish as they can comfortably be in any given situation, and will adopt whatever philosophy (or combination of philosophies) is necessary in order to feel better about their choices...
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Avoiding Stultifying Affairs
"One must avoid stultifying affairs."
During this heat wave I'm enticing myself to get up and walk very early in the morning by listening to Walter Isaacson's biography of Einstein on the ipod while I walk. This morning I got to the portion of Einstein's life where he is unemployed after graduation. A friend offers to help Einstein obtain a job at his company: an offer that Einstein refuses with the proclamation that "one must avoid stultifying affairs." I laughed when I heard that.
Currently unemployed myself, I have recently submitted a number of applications for positions that I find to be... less than optimum. I feel decidely unhappy when I do this, in marked contrast to the surprising feeling of general well-being that has pervaded my days since becoming unemployed. Past experience indicates that I should be feeling quite anxious given my situation. And we constantly hear about how difficult it is to find a good job these days, which should only add to my anxiety. Intellectually, I know that this means I should leave no stone unturned in my job search, including those stones that aren't so shiny, but emotionally... Emotionally, I seem to disagree, feeling anxious only when I apply for a position that I don't particularly want.
For awhile now I've been wondering about my general lack of anxiety. My past experience with unemployment says that I should be feeling highly anxious. The idea that I should be feeling anxious is supported by Maslow's hierarchy of needs: the second need in the pyramid being the need for safety, including economic safety. And I'm certainly not sitting on a pile of money. However, instead of feeling anxious, I feel relatively calm. The disparity has been great enough to prompt some introspective spelunking in an attempt to answer the question: From what wellspring issues forth this fountain of tranquility?
Have I reached a threshhold of sustaining metaphysical belief? Is this feeling of well-being externally imposed? Have I been doing something that has managed to supplant my feelings of anxiety? Or is it simply that I currently have a day-to-day existence that is almost completely free of "stultifying affairs"?
Einstein's phrase has been stuck in my head all day. It occurred to me that there are actually two possible ways to interpret it. 1) One must avoid those situations (affairs) which, by their nature, render one incapable of enthusiasm. 2) One must avoid bringing about a state of affairs that thwarts one's own interests, such as taking a job that does not represent a change for the better in one's life. Either interpretation represents wisdom, IMHO.
Today I decided to avoid stultifying affairs by spending a few hours blogging.
During this heat wave I'm enticing myself to get up and walk very early in the morning by listening to Walter Isaacson's biography of Einstein on the ipod while I walk. This morning I got to the portion of Einstein's life where he is unemployed after graduation. A friend offers to help Einstein obtain a job at his company: an offer that Einstein refuses with the proclamation that "one must avoid stultifying affairs." I laughed when I heard that.
Currently unemployed myself, I have recently submitted a number of applications for positions that I find to be... less than optimum. I feel decidely unhappy when I do this, in marked contrast to the surprising feeling of general well-being that has pervaded my days since becoming unemployed. Past experience indicates that I should be feeling quite anxious given my situation. And we constantly hear about how difficult it is to find a good job these days, which should only add to my anxiety. Intellectually, I know that this means I should leave no stone unturned in my job search, including those stones that aren't so shiny, but emotionally... Emotionally, I seem to disagree, feeling anxious only when I apply for a position that I don't particularly want.
For awhile now I've been wondering about my general lack of anxiety. My past experience with unemployment says that I should be feeling highly anxious. The idea that I should be feeling anxious is supported by Maslow's hierarchy of needs: the second need in the pyramid being the need for safety, including economic safety. And I'm certainly not sitting on a pile of money. However, instead of feeling anxious, I feel relatively calm. The disparity has been great enough to prompt some introspective spelunking in an attempt to answer the question: From what wellspring issues forth this fountain of tranquility?
Have I reached a threshhold of sustaining metaphysical belief? Is this feeling of well-being externally imposed? Have I been doing something that has managed to supplant my feelings of anxiety? Or is it simply that I currently have a day-to-day existence that is almost completely free of "stultifying affairs"?
Einstein's phrase has been stuck in my head all day. It occurred to me that there are actually two possible ways to interpret it. 1) One must avoid those situations (affairs) which, by their nature, render one incapable of enthusiasm. 2) One must avoid bringing about a state of affairs that thwarts one's own interests, such as taking a job that does not represent a change for the better in one's life. Either interpretation represents wisdom, IMHO.
Today I decided to avoid stultifying affairs by spending a few hours blogging.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Born This Way
"Yes, you're struggling and you're suffering and it's hard to be you. But the flip side of that that's really exciting is... [p]eople like you have invented great things."
"You can tell your child that he has been given the label 'gifted' as long as he also knows that it doesn't mean he is smarter or better than anyone, just that he performs well on a certain kind of test."
Ah, the irony of seeing (in this morning's paper) a family movie review for X-Men: First Class right next to a parenthood advice column containing the two approaches to take with a 'gifted' child noted above. Can you tell which one came from an 'expert' and which one came from another parent? I bet you can't.
The entire plot of X-Men: First Class revolves around how two groups of equally 'gifted' young adults end up on diverging paths with respect to how they perceive their relationship with those who are not similarly 'gifted'. A recurring desire expressed by mutants on both sides in the movie is the desire to feel normal, or to feel accepted for one's true self. To not have to hide. To not feel like a 'freak'. "They tend to feel different from their peers." (q) This sentiment is eloquently highlighted in the following trailer...
There's an obvious, though not overtly compared, difference between Charles and Erik with respect to their upbringings. Charles grew up with security and privilege, while Erik grew up in the shadow of someone who used torture to motivate. Erik could not escape being a target as a result of his 'gift', and consequently believed that the only safety was in being more powerful than those who would target or oppress you. Charles, perhaps because of his wealth/security, did not acquire the same set of learned perceptions of and responses to that which Erik perceived as a threat. X-Men: First Class has a lot to say about the contribution of nurture to the makings of a hero or a monster.
The only characters we are supposed to sympathize with in X-Men: First Class are mutants. There are simply no non-mutant characters of note. This works because there is some part in all of us that can identify with feeling like an outcast. Yet who but those who have felt truly isolated by an apparently unbridgeable gap between themselves and others can understand what it means to be with others who were like them? For the exceptionally smart - the ones who are typically labeled 'gifted' by schools - being with others like them may mean not having to deliberately downplay one's intellect. It may mean being able to exercise the full range of one's abilities without having to worry about the social consequences.
There is inherent suffering in having to hide any portion of one's true self. Yet we all make concessions of one sort or another to the social environments in which we live. The more extreme the concessions, the more extreme the suffering. Perhaps the most painful concessions are those which are predicated on the belief that something about our genetic makeup is unacceptable. The fact that you were born this way, and know no other way to be with respect to these traits, makes denying them especially painful.
If there is something to be learned from X-Men: First Class, perhaps it is that the message to parents of a gifted child (or of any child who struggles with being different in a significant way) should be: Find your child a social environment where s/he feels accepted and safe, and where s/he is encouraged to express his/her full range of abilities and true nature.
"You can tell your child that he has been given the label 'gifted' as long as he also knows that it doesn't mean he is smarter or better than anyone, just that he performs well on a certain kind of test."
Ah, the irony of seeing (in this morning's paper) a family movie review for X-Men: First Class right next to a parenthood advice column containing the two approaches to take with a 'gifted' child noted above. Can you tell which one came from an 'expert' and which one came from another parent? I bet you can't.
The entire plot of X-Men: First Class revolves around how two groups of equally 'gifted' young adults end up on diverging paths with respect to how they perceive their relationship with those who are not similarly 'gifted'. A recurring desire expressed by mutants on both sides in the movie is the desire to feel normal, or to feel accepted for one's true self. To not have to hide. To not feel like a 'freak'. "They tend to feel different from their peers." (q) This sentiment is eloquently highlighted in the following trailer...
There's an obvious, though not overtly compared, difference between Charles and Erik with respect to their upbringings. Charles grew up with security and privilege, while Erik grew up in the shadow of someone who used torture to motivate. Erik could not escape being a target as a result of his 'gift', and consequently believed that the only safety was in being more powerful than those who would target or oppress you. Charles, perhaps because of his wealth/security, did not acquire the same set of learned perceptions of and responses to that which Erik perceived as a threat. X-Men: First Class has a lot to say about the contribution of nurture to the makings of a hero or a monster.
The only characters we are supposed to sympathize with in X-Men: First Class are mutants. There are simply no non-mutant characters of note. This works because there is some part in all of us that can identify with feeling like an outcast. Yet who but those who have felt truly isolated by an apparently unbridgeable gap between themselves and others can understand what it means to be with others who were like them? For the exceptionally smart - the ones who are typically labeled 'gifted' by schools - being with others like them may mean not having to deliberately downplay one's intellect. It may mean being able to exercise the full range of one's abilities without having to worry about the social consequences.
There is inherent suffering in having to hide any portion of one's true self. Yet we all make concessions of one sort or another to the social environments in which we live. The more extreme the concessions, the more extreme the suffering. Perhaps the most painful concessions are those which are predicated on the belief that something about our genetic makeup is unacceptable. The fact that you were born this way, and know no other way to be with respect to these traits, makes denying them especially painful.
If there is something to be learned from X-Men: First Class, perhaps it is that the message to parents of a gifted child (or of any child who struggles with being different in a significant way) should be: Find your child a social environment where s/he feels accepted and safe, and where s/he is encouraged to express his/her full range of abilities and true nature.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Let Me Be Myself
"Tell me please would you one time
Let me be myself
So I can shine with my own light"
I've been thinking a lot about our sense of self lately. Perhaps because mine feels so... different right now. No, I'm not on any medications that would account for this change, but that didn't stop me from being intrigued by a recent paper in the journal Neuroethics called Authenticity Anyone? The Enhancement of Emotions via Neuro-Psychopharmacology, by Felicitas Kraemer.
Kraemer begins by extensively discussing Peter Kramer's 1993 book Listening to Prozac (which I own, but have not yet read). Kramer describes a woman who, by all accounts, was never particularly happy and outgoing, as experiencing such a positive change in personality on Prozac that she didn't want to stop taking it because "she is not herself anymore without it." She now identified with a 'true self' that hadn't emerged until she'd been medicated. "...Kramer described the process as one of a redefinition of the self" where "the socially competent and cheerful self that is prevalent under Prozac is declared as the 'real self,' whereas the less welcome, shy and depressed one, is not experienced as real anymore." The implication, of course, is that since the 'new' self conforms to a (socially-approved of) "better or even 'ideal' self", then that self must be a more authentic representation of the real person. The paradox, of course, is that since we typically define authenticity as a combination of naturalness of origin and consistency with the past, how can a sense of self arising from an "artificial enhancement device" like Prozac lead to a more authentic self?
Or, to reframe Kraemer's reframing of the question, is Prozac creating something that was never there and is thereby inauthentic, or is Prozac enabling us to access something that was always there, always possible, and which can thereby be deemed to be authentic? Is Prozac simply peeling back a slightly rotten top layer of the emotional onion, revealing something 'better' that has been there all along? What is the genuine article with respect to our emotions and the behaviors arising from them?
Is an emotion genuine because I feel it, or is it genuine because it is consistent with how I have previously felt and how I think that I should feel? Or is the difference between the two only worth debating if I'm unwilling to accept and integrate the new emotions into my sense of self? With respect to consenting adults who have unrestricted access to these technologies, you might leave it strictly up to the individual to decide what is or is not 'authentic'. But because many self-altering medications are prescribed to minors who may have barely had a chance to develop a sense of self on par with that of consenting adults, and because social pressure is the source of most of our ideas about what an acceptable sense of self is, the issue of authenticity is of broader concern.
To what degree do we owe it to a person to allow them to develop as naturally as possible? I have a friend whose child has been diagnosed with ADHD. The child's 'wild' behavior creates difficulties for the parents and teachers, but the child is boisterous, gregarious, and happy, and does not appear to be suffering. So far the parents have not medicated this child, but their doctor has put it out there as an option for the future. I wonder about whose needs/desires will ultimately take precedence in this situation. Will 'the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one', or will the child be allowed to continue as his 'wild' happy self because that is who he is?
And when will the child be self-aware enough to realize that something may have been taken away from him if he were medicated? Kraemer claims to "support the more general, conceptual thesis that people do not experience artificial emotions when taking drugs of whatever kind," a thesis that I reject. I believe that it is possible to be self-aware enough to realize (simultaneously with the occurring emotion) when an emotional response is inconsistent with one's previous history of responses to similar circumstances, and that that inconsistency is enough to cause one to deem the emotion 'artificial' or 'inauthentic'. And forcing an inconsistent emotional response upon a person is a deep violation of the very essence of our experiencing, sentient selves.
Kraemer concludes (wrongly, IMHO) that the distinction between 'natural' and 'artificial' is only relevant with respect to the source or means by which the emotion is produced, and not with respect to how the emotion is experienced. (p. 55) Yet, ironically, Kraemer goes on to argue that an emotion can be claimed to be authentic "if the individuals experiencing it recognize their own feelings really as their own and identify with them." (p. 58) We seem to be disagreeing about the degree of equivalency between 'natural' and 'authentic', and between 'inauthentic' and 'artificial'...
It may very well be possible that a person can be unaware enough of the differences in felt emotions to appreciate which ones arise from the use of an artificial technology. Further, it's entirely possible that they just don't care about the inconsistency between the way they responded emotionally in the past and the way they are currently responding. But this should not be considered to be a reasonable assumption with respect to all people, and the law should be designed to protect those who notice a difference and are bothered by it.
It's entirely possible that one's sense of self will 'evolve' over time to accommodate the new set of emotional responses. It's even possible that this new sense of self will be appreciated and deemed qualitatively better than the flawed, old self that experienced emotions or had responses that were 'not desirable'. But it's my belief that such changes should never be forced upon anyone, either by the law or by social pressure. (Kraemer's article includes illustrations from Kramer's book of people who were very bothered by discrepancy between how they felt and how they knew they should feel.)
Our social norms do include a historical appreciation and respect for authenticity, but how will this respect sustain itself (or not) in the face of increasingly easier (and more radical) ways to modify oneself? Kraemer critically cites transhumanist Nick Bostrom's work as an overly simplistic view of how easy making 'emotional improvements' would be. She points out that "[c]hanging our emotional life means changing our cultural and epistemic norms." Perhaps more importantly though, judgments about the authenticity of emotions reside first and foremost with the subjective experiencer, determined by the degree to which they are or are not able to integrate the emotional changes into their existing sense of self. And it is inconsistency that erodes our sense of self. As Kraemer puts it, "[o]ur emotions depend on each other in a fragile nexus that can easily be destroyed by uncontrolled manipulation." And without a strong, consistent sense of self, who are we?
Let me be myself
So I can shine with my own light"
I've been thinking a lot about our sense of self lately. Perhaps because mine feels so... different right now. No, I'm not on any medications that would account for this change, but that didn't stop me from being intrigued by a recent paper in the journal Neuroethics called Authenticity Anyone? The Enhancement of Emotions via Neuro-Psychopharmacology, by Felicitas Kraemer.
Kraemer begins by extensively discussing Peter Kramer's 1993 book Listening to Prozac (which I own, but have not yet read). Kramer describes a woman who, by all accounts, was never particularly happy and outgoing, as experiencing such a positive change in personality on Prozac that she didn't want to stop taking it because "she is not herself anymore without it." She now identified with a 'true self' that hadn't emerged until she'd been medicated. "...Kramer described the process as one of a redefinition of the self" where "the socially competent and cheerful self that is prevalent under Prozac is declared as the 'real self,' whereas the less welcome, shy and depressed one, is not experienced as real anymore." The implication, of course, is that since the 'new' self conforms to a (socially-approved of) "better or even 'ideal' self", then that self must be a more authentic representation of the real person. The paradox, of course, is that since we typically define authenticity as a combination of naturalness of origin and consistency with the past, how can a sense of self arising from an "artificial enhancement device" like Prozac lead to a more authentic self?
Or, to reframe Kraemer's reframing of the question, is Prozac creating something that was never there and is thereby inauthentic, or is Prozac enabling us to access something that was always there, always possible, and which can thereby be deemed to be authentic? Is Prozac simply peeling back a slightly rotten top layer of the emotional onion, revealing something 'better' that has been there all along? What is the genuine article with respect to our emotions and the behaviors arising from them?
Is an emotion genuine because I feel it, or is it genuine because it is consistent with how I have previously felt and how I think that I should feel? Or is the difference between the two only worth debating if I'm unwilling to accept and integrate the new emotions into my sense of self? With respect to consenting adults who have unrestricted access to these technologies, you might leave it strictly up to the individual to decide what is or is not 'authentic'. But because many self-altering medications are prescribed to minors who may have barely had a chance to develop a sense of self on par with that of consenting adults, and because social pressure is the source of most of our ideas about what an acceptable sense of self is, the issue of authenticity is of broader concern.
To what degree do we owe it to a person to allow them to develop as naturally as possible? I have a friend whose child has been diagnosed with ADHD. The child's 'wild' behavior creates difficulties for the parents and teachers, but the child is boisterous, gregarious, and happy, and does not appear to be suffering. So far the parents have not medicated this child, but their doctor has put it out there as an option for the future. I wonder about whose needs/desires will ultimately take precedence in this situation. Will 'the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one', or will the child be allowed to continue as his 'wild' happy self because that is who he is?
And when will the child be self-aware enough to realize that something may have been taken away from him if he were medicated? Kraemer claims to "support the more general, conceptual thesis that people do not experience artificial emotions when taking drugs of whatever kind," a thesis that I reject. I believe that it is possible to be self-aware enough to realize (simultaneously with the occurring emotion) when an emotional response is inconsistent with one's previous history of responses to similar circumstances, and that that inconsistency is enough to cause one to deem the emotion 'artificial' or 'inauthentic'. And forcing an inconsistent emotional response upon a person is a deep violation of the very essence of our experiencing, sentient selves.
Kraemer concludes (wrongly, IMHO) that the distinction between 'natural' and 'artificial' is only relevant with respect to the source or means by which the emotion is produced, and not with respect to how the emotion is experienced. (p. 55) Yet, ironically, Kraemer goes on to argue that an emotion can be claimed to be authentic "if the individuals experiencing it recognize their own feelings really as their own and identify with them." (p. 58) We seem to be disagreeing about the degree of equivalency between 'natural' and 'authentic', and between 'inauthentic' and 'artificial'...
It may very well be possible that a person can be unaware enough of the differences in felt emotions to appreciate which ones arise from the use of an artificial technology. Further, it's entirely possible that they just don't care about the inconsistency between the way they responded emotionally in the past and the way they are currently responding. But this should not be considered to be a reasonable assumption with respect to all people, and the law should be designed to protect those who notice a difference and are bothered by it.
It's entirely possible that one's sense of self will 'evolve' over time to accommodate the new set of emotional responses. It's even possible that this new sense of self will be appreciated and deemed qualitatively better than the flawed, old self that experienced emotions or had responses that were 'not desirable'. But it's my belief that such changes should never be forced upon anyone, either by the law or by social pressure. (Kraemer's article includes illustrations from Kramer's book of people who were very bothered by discrepancy between how they felt and how they knew they should feel.)
Our social norms do include a historical appreciation and respect for authenticity, but how will this respect sustain itself (or not) in the face of increasingly easier (and more radical) ways to modify oneself? Kraemer critically cites transhumanist Nick Bostrom's work as an overly simplistic view of how easy making 'emotional improvements' would be. She points out that "[c]hanging our emotional life means changing our cultural and epistemic norms." Perhaps more importantly though, judgments about the authenticity of emotions reside first and foremost with the subjective experiencer, determined by the degree to which they are or are not able to integrate the emotional changes into their existing sense of self. And it is inconsistency that erodes our sense of self. As Kraemer puts it, "[o]ur emotions depend on each other in a fragile nexus that can easily be destroyed by uncontrolled manipulation." And without a strong, consistent sense of self, who are we?
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