Monthly Archives: February 2015

Signs

NOTE: This article was published in the July 2012 edition of The Independent Platte (a now-defunct newspaper in Platte County, Missouri).

Labels can be useful. They can also be destructively limiting.

I have always refused to define myself in terms of a political party, for example. It seemed to be at once a superfluous and self-confining act. And while my urge to reject a political label was something about which I felt pretty strongly as a young person, it was firmly cemented as part of my personal makeup when, over the years, I watched the annual kabuki theater that is the State of the Union Address. Seeing our legislative “representatives” behave in such a stylized fashion – members of the President’s party erupt in standing ovations with predictable frequency, at every utterance of some platitude, while members of the opposing party sit in stony silence, signaling the gravity of their disapproval – left me wondering why such a farce could ever be taken seriously by anyone other than those who earn a living as part of it.

I think it is safe to say that every one of us engages in some labeling, though, of self and other. Labels are, after all, handy intellectual shortcuts. Labels are convenient, and probably sometimes necessary.
Failure to label (and communicate) oneself as “diabetic”, for example, might have deadly consequences. Safety dictates that some labels may be necessary. Then there are those role-related labels which present part of our identity – gender, profession, and philosophical labels we use to identify ourselves and others.

It is equally obvious, though, that labels can be self-limiting, preventing us from achieving things we might otherwise accomplish. Labels allow us to denigrate others with a simple categorization, a condemnation by language. It brings to mind the old George Carlin routine: “Have you ever noticed that anybody driving slower than you is an idiot, and any­ one going faster than you is a maniac?” We assume our own assessment of the situation is right, and that of anyone who disagrees with us is wrong. When we’re feeling particularly generous, we’ll admit to the possibility that a few of our conclusions might be open to a little modification, but the important ones – the ones dealing with basic right and wrong – those are set.

Nineteenth century Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard wrote “when you label me, you negate me”. In writing that, I think he meant that, by slapping a label on someone, we can handily confine the characteristics of that other person in relation to our own prejudices. The grown-up thing to do would be to consider that another person’s viewpoint might have some validity. Instead, we distort the motivations of the “other” in order to satisfy our own simplified worldview. Ultimately, reliance on overly-simple thinking seals us into reactionary behavior, lacking the necessary nuance for optimal navigation of life circumstances.

The recent death of Rodney King prompted me to consider his rise to fame. Commentators reported his most well-known quote: “Can we all just get along?” as something of a laughing matter. Perhaps it was a testimony of Mr. King’s naiveté. But, in making that remark when he did, following the riots which were in part prompted by the acquittal of police officers on trial for charges related to Mr. King’s videotaped beating, he was demonstrating the kind of emotional maturity which allows one to overcome the ego-based behaviors which often get us into situations we might otherwise prefer to avoid. The honest answer to his question is “probably not”, but, really, there is no harm – and potentially great benefit – in trying. And in demonstrating such emotional maturity, Mr. King (at least for me) swapped one label – petty criminal – for another – role model.

Evaluating what we encounter in the world is not an elementary exercise in looking at a black-and-white image. It is tempting to view it as so, but it often leads us down a dead-end road when we succumb to looking for simple answers. Simple thinkers are very effective at tactical strategies, but they do so from a place of distorted world view, and, consequently, they believe in and push as priorities things that embody the dictum that there is, in fact, one right way to behave, and to live, in each circumstance. From another perspective, though, those things are meaningless.

Scientists sometimes us mathematical models to predict how changing input variables – especially time – will impact areas they are evaluating. This is a fairly common practice in weather prediction, climate study, and hydrogeology, for example. But a community is not monolithic, and its members are not so easily defined as to be utterly rational and predictable. Those communities, and their members, are not mathematically definable, like the variables in a scientific model. When we try to force values based on our own prejudices onto those model input variables, we end up with models which reflect those prejudices right back at us. The same goes when we label others based on our prejudices.

I can say with dead certainty that, even having evaluated the negative outcomes associated with the practice of labeling, I’ll continue to do it at times. There aren’t many among us who could resist doing so. And, as noted, there are circumstances when doing so is really the rational and appropriate thing to do. But it is those other circumstances – the ones in which the temptation is there to label the other an “idiot” or “maniac” – those are the ones I’m going to try to work on for myself. Because, really, when we label others, we’re labeling ourselves. And if we allow others to define us on the basis of a label (and hence a cliché), we effectively negate ourselves.


Times Befallen Sole Survivors

atoad

NOTE:  This article was published in the May 2012 issue of the Independent Platte, a now-defunct newspaper.  In the intervening years, the confidence I displayed in my health at this time proved to be misguided, as I had a recurrence of thyroid cancer in 2014.

Not long ago I was working in the garden when something caught my eye. Hopping along in the fresh dirt was a tiny, soil colored toad. This would normally not have seemed extraordinary but there was something about this toad which really caught my attention. Closer examination revealed it: my amphibious garden companion had a highly deformed rear leg.

The scientific literature is filled with accounts of this phenomenon over the past decade but this was my first personal experience witnessing it. Amphibian deformities along with declines in amphibian populations are ”likely to be a result of multiple causes all related to human induced environmental damage .” Scientific research links some of the deformities with the presence of agricultural pesticides in the environment.

Seeing this toad and recognizing that this individual was afflicted with a malady likely caused by human folly, was a trigger for some reflection.

In January 2010 I discovered a lump in my throat. After a bit of diagnostic testing, the conclusion was that I had contracted thyroid cancer (the thyroid serves as a sort of “traffic cop” of the endocrine system). A bit of surgical intervention and a surgical intervention and a round of radioactive iodine later I’m likely cured (funny, we’re now called “cancer survivors” – we’ve become too fragile to be referred to as in remission or some other term – no we have to be “survivors” so as to preserve our apparently weak self-esteem).

Honestly, as cancers go, I got off pretty easy. The day of the surgery was fairly unpleasant, and the radiation therapy left me with several potential serious complications, including a greater chance of a host of future cancers. I suppose we deal with the devil we know, and leave potentialities to the realm of mathematical interpretation. But outside of requiring a daily dose of synthetic thyroid hormone, my long-term situation is not too unlike how things were before that fateful discovery. Others who deal with cancer often have a tougher time than I.

One thing, though – when you get a cancer diagnosis, even a seemingly unrelated occurrence can remind you of your own situation. You see, I believe my friend the toad and I have something in common. And I get angry when I think about it.

No I have no qualms about having any number of commonalities with toads in general (some would say, and I must agree that there are many), but this toad and I share in the legacy of our culture’s stupid propensity to introduce toxic chemicals into the environment without sufficient knowledge about the harm they may produce. My anger is related to that propensity.

What, you may ask, makes me so certain that my cancer was environmentally-related? I’ll grant that it is not something I can prove. But deduction is a pretty powerful tool (Sherlock Holmes used it with a lot of success). There is, to my knowledge, no incidence of endocrine cancers in my family. And it is pretty well established that pesticides, herbicides, and plastics are potent endocrine disruptors. Amphibians, bathed more or less constantly in somebody’s runoff, end up with deformed limbs and gender ambiguity. People end up with a host of endocrine maladies.

Diabetes and cancer are, it is true, ‘lifestyle diseases”. But with a rising epidemic of human endocrine problems documented, it is safe to surmise that there is an environmental component to some of it.

A good neighbor doesn’t poison nearby residents. Then again, it seems to me that a “good” neighbor has the sense not to spoil his or her own nest. How many us can make that claim?

I won’t pretend to know precisely what should be done. But my scientific knowledge tells me that, at a minimum, our culture should adopt the “precautionary principle” (http://www.pprinciple.net/), which holds that “When an activity raises threats of harm to human health or the environment, precautionary measures should be taken even if some cause and effect relationships are not fully established scientifically. In this context the proponent of an activity, rather than the public, should bear the burden of proof”.

That’s how we should approach the introduction of new chemicals into use, but powerful interests (read: corporations) wouldn’t like it that way. So I’m not holding my breath until it happens.

But if it does, that toad and I, survivors that we are, will celebrate.


The Unattractive Truth

parkinglot

NOTE:  This article was published in the October 2010 issue of the Mension, the newsletter of Mid-America Mensa. 

I’ve heard it and read it, “this city (metro) was designed for cars”. The implication being, that’s the way it is, and there’s nothing which can be done about it.
How did we get to this point? Automobiles are without a doubt a useful tool, and more, a canvas upon which to create part of our identity. But at some point, it seems, they’ve become the tail wagging the dog. The space and consideration (not to mention expense) we give to the task of warehousing our vehicles – on-street, parking lots, garages – is phenomenal. And who hasn’t had their (pedestrian) way impeded by an inappropriately-parked vehicle? That’s what I mean by the tail wagging the dog – we sometimes lose sight of the fact that the vehicles, and their associated parking areas, are supposed to be a means, not an end.
So when I hear or read that this area or that area is “designed for cars”, it occurs to me that this is another example of everyone forgetting what the goal is. Should we view our means of locomotion as an end, or should we view them as a means? And if we do the former, what is the result?
I would contend that the result is a deeply unsatisfying built environment, one in which, instead of residential and shopping areas being mixed together, where that built environment is appropriately scaled (as in, how built areas have been scaled for centuries), we get endless tracts of residential subdivisions and strip shopping centers. As Neil Peart wrote a generation ago, “the suburbs have no charms to soothe the restless dreams of youth”. Or anyone else, for that matter.
Cheap fossil fuel and car-dependency have lulled us into the habit of accepting development further and further from city centers. The result is that many of us spend hours per week engaged in mind-numbing commutes, most of us in our own individual vehicles. That the era of cheap fuel is coming to an end should be made abundantly clear by the misadventures of BP in the Gulf of Mexico. Drilling for oil in water thousands of feet deep, and through thousands of feet of sediments, and then moving the resulting oil to land-based refineries, is fantastically expensive. It requires the cost of the resulting petroleum to be sufficiently high to support the enterprise. The same goes for “tar sands”, and Arctic oil production.
Development keeps being done in the same fashion, because that’s the way we do it. The writer James Howard Kunstler (www.kunstler.com) calls this “the psychology of previous investment”. But when we see that our previous investment is leading toward a dead end, it seems to me that we should reconsider the way we’re doing things. Just because we have for a few decades been “designed for cars” doesn’t mean it will always be thus. We should make the choice for ourselves, instead of having circumstances make the choices for us.
Copyright 2010, Bill Gresham. All rights reserved.


Deep Water

oil-spill-pelican

NOTE: This article appeared in the June 2010 issue of the Mension, the newsletter of Mid-America Mensa.
I’m wondering what it will take. What it will take, that is, for most of us to understand that the exploration, extraction, transportation, refining distribution and burning of fossil fuels is, fundamentally, destructive?
The ongoing disaster in the aftermath of the explosion and sinking of BP’s Deepwater Horizon drilling platform serves as only the most recent reminder that we operate within a culture which is ultimately destructive. But, with serial fatal coal-mining events, a zone of floating plastic trash twice the size of Texas in the Pacific, the warmest Antarctic summer on record and epic biodiversity loss, it is by far not the only one.
And, seriously, should anyone really be surprised? The petroleum industry reps constantly tell the world that they can now extract oil from the most sensitive areas in an environmentally-sound fashion. These soothing words are nothing more than PR, high-priced window dressing. So now, they can actually collect more oil than they waste. Big deal. Now and then, a catastrophic spill is inevitable.
The corporate CEOs were called before congress, who made a show of giving these smooth-talking executives a good tongue-lashing. But, given the corporate sponsorship at most levels of government, recently enshrined by a Supreme Court decision affirming corporate “person-hood” and removing limits on corporate campaign spending, the prospect of real regulation of these entities remains remote.
No, we might as well get used to the status quo, as long as we are willing to tolerate it. We’ve been told that our leaders regard our lifestyle as “non-negotiable”. That being the case, there will be even more extreme efforts made on behalf of “the consumer” to find, extract, transport, refine, and distribute the prize.
George W. Bush was right, at least in one regard. This nation is addicted to oil. Not that any meaningful work was done to address that addiction under his leadership (nor much now, for that matter). It is demonstrable that this nation will wage near-endless war (with attendant loss of life and national treasure) to safeguard access to petroleum. So killing a few shorebirds, fouling some beaches, or ruining a fishery or two is not really unexpected behavior. And with fewer relatively easy-to-reach deposits remaining globally, there is no doubt that more of these catastrophes will occur, as predictable and ghastly as Donald Trump’s comb-over.
Right now, the calls from environmental groups to end offshore drilling in this country are reaching a crescendo. But all that would do is remove the bloody mess from our easy view. Devastation, from Bolivia to Nigeria, from the Persian Gulf to the Caucasus, goes on without pause. Just ending extraction nearby won’t end the mayhem, it’ll only hide it from our eyes.
No, as ugly as the gulf oil fiasco is, we need it blatantly splashed in front of us. After all, you can’t address an addiction if you fail to acknowledge it. The first step is admitting you need help. And we need help.
Copyright 2010, Bill Gresham. All rights reserved.


Screaming Trees

ClearCut

NOTE:  This article was published in the May 2009 issue of the Mension, the newsletter of Mid-America Mensa.

“Happy Arbor Day, early.”
Those were some of my first (sardonic) thoughts when I saw what had happened to the trees in my neighbor’s yard.
We live in a neighborhood where the houses are neither new nor old. Our house is about 18 years old, and most of the houses on my block are of a similar vintage. When this neighborhood was platted, the lots for many homesites (except the corners and a few others) were set up fairly large. Our own yard is nearly 1/2-acre. There are some trees around, including a patch of mature trees of medium size in the center of the block. This patch primarily occupies the back halves of three neighboring yards, situated behind ours.
We’ve lived here for a bit over 10 years, and many of the neighbors have been here even longer. That sort of stability, I suppose, more easily allows one to become vulnerable to taking the status quo for granted. I guess that’s what happened to me. Because, when I came home to find that the yard immediately behind ours was denuded of trees, I was shocked.
These trees had stood probably 40 feet tall, and helped provide a living privacy screen in the back of our yard. They had also provided other benefits too numerable to list in this article. They were mostly, based on my observation, black locusts. Some folks, given to the establishment of hierarchies for all things, from people to the living world, might think of black locust trees as being of some less value than others. True, they tend to grow quickly and not live long, and they have thorns (but small thorns, not the monstrous thorns of their cousins the honey locusts).
On the other hand, when I think of black locusts, I think of them as they are during the spring. Some time after each vernal equinox, the black locusts in this area set great drooping bunches of White blossoms. That would be enough to make them esthetically pleasing inhabitants of the local community of life. However, the fact that the spring breeze blows thick with the perfume of their gloriously sweet aroma makes them even more treasured.
Of course, any homeowner is within his or her “rights” to do as he or she wishes with their yards (within the limits as established by local law and homeowner’s associations). I’m guessing that our neighbor will end up planting a lawn in the place which was formerly the home of a collection of trees. If he’s like most people in this culture, he viewed them as “just trees”, and no obstacle to his larger landscaping plans.
I’ve not spoken to him about it, and I probably won’t. Polity mandates that one maintain civil relations with one’s neighbors, and, at the moment, that would be difficult for me. This fellow, with whom I’ve had pleasant (but few – after all, this is suburbia, where we mostly avoid one another) interactions, seems to be a person of, by cultural standards, good will.
The National Arbor Day Foundation (www.arborday.org) goes to great lengths about the benefits of trees to the enterprises of people. This is all well and good, but it helps perpetuate a myth, too. That myth is that the world was created for people.
But the unacknowledged (except here) fact remains: a number of living beings of relatively long standing were killed in this place. To make way for a suburban lawn. Then again, I suppose, why should it be any other way? We as a culture have established this as standard operating procedure. When anything, be it mountains or living beings stand in our way, we opt for violence.
Happy Arbor Day? Or unhappy manifest destiny? Ask the trees.


Ma Ma Ma Belle

shutterstock_cell_towers

NOTE:  This article appeared in the April 2009 issue of the Mension, the newsletter of Mid America Mensa. 

The latest example in my life of how large, bureaucratic corporate organizations exhibit behaviors both counter-productive and oppressive, simultaneously, has been my dealings with what has become a household conundrum across our modern society: the communications empire.

I’ll try to express this succinctly. In December, I decided my life would be so much better if I obtained one of those fabulously-appointed new cell phones which do a little bit of everything. To my good fortune, the purveyor of connectivity with which I was currently engaged was the wireless vendor of choice for this essential device.

I already had a contractual agreement with this enterprise, so I would have to make arrangements to change that agreement to accommodate my wishes. Since, by doing this, my phone company would end up making more money, I reasoned it would be relatively simple.

That’s all the proof you need of how very naive I can be. After a large number of attempts to speak to “the right person”, to explain everything, to persuade and cajole, over the course of more than two months of start-and-stop discussions, my telecommunications company contacted me to tell me that the decision had been made: they would not accommodate my wishes (which involved them waiving my early termination fee). The representative was able to elaborate little. It didn’t really matter. A decision, after all, is a decision. Especially when, as this one was, it is made at the vice president level.

Despite the logic of my argument, the evidence of which was pretty compelling, this corporate behemoth could not find it within their capabilities to waive this fee. Of course, as a matter of principle, I was not going to budge either. In this titanic faceoff, neither party would blink.

After more than two months, the initial impulse of wanting a new electronic trinket had worn off a bit. Consequently, I didn’t care that much whether I actually got the cool device by this point, on my terms or not. I was more interested in how dealing with this corporate giant would work out in my case. After all, this was a corporation which had found it within their interests to violate the U.S. Constitution and cooperate with a lawless edict from an administration spying on its own innocent people, despite the obvious (and less obvious) criminal and public relations ramifications. Would they not make a simple decision to waive a fee in the interest of greater current and future revenues from one of their existing customers? In the end, I was given the name and contact information of a corporate media relations spokesperson (as I had volunteered that I was considering writing an article about my saga).

In the course of my interactions with my telecommunications company, I pointed out that, not only was it going to mean they would make more money from me if they proceeded the way I proposed, but that it was the fiduciary responsibility of a corporation to behave in this very manner, so as to maximize profits. Furthermore, I pointed out that other telecommunications companies were offering to pay the very termination fee I was proposing they waive, in order to lure my business. Does it not make sense for a corporation to retain its customer base?

I traded e-mail messages with the media relations spokesperson. In her polite way, she shared a few PR platitudes about how her employer was in favor of sunshine and happiness, two chicken in every pot, cheerful, fresh-scrubbed children, and puppies. But nothing of substance as to why this company would willingly choose such a wrong-headed direction in this case.
Really, the problem is me. It is ridiculous for me to expect a giant corporation to behave in a manner which can be construed a sensible. I’m not sure when I will learn. Unless they are guided by the most enlightened executives (and sometimes not even then), they will behave, in the description of the film “The Corporation” (www.thecorporation.com ) as psychopaths (for example: Corporations are irresponsible because, in an attempt to satisfy their own goals, they put everybody else at risk; corporations try to manipulate everything, including public opinion; corporations are grandiose, always insisting that they’re ‘number one, the best, etc.’; and corporations refuse to accept responsibility for their own actions, and are unable to feel remorse).

During the meltdown of the U.S. banking system in 2008, it was said that some institutions were “too big to fail”. Responding to this, Vermont Senator Bernie Sanders remarked that “if a company is too big to fail, it is’ too big to exist”. That logic came to mind as I dealt with my telecommunications company. Nobody has yet argued that this company is too big to fail, primarily because the telecommunications giants are mostly still profitable. It is just that, when a corporation is too big to make a decision which makes sense for all parties, when it becomes such a bureaucratic goliath that people at the working level are not empowered to make those sensible decisions, when instead, the buck is passed up to a nameless, faceless vice president, it too, is too big to exist.

I’m not fond of supporting, with my hard-earned money, the operations of such a nonsensical, psychopathic enterprise. Inertia and lethargy have prevented me from taking a decisive course of action. It will be very inconvenient to change internet service providers, for example. I have an e-mail address which has been mine for years. If I change my email address, I’ll have to notify innumerable people and other entities of that action. There will be those I forget to notify, and there will be problems. The same goes for phone and cell phone service, all of which have been bundled conveniently under their corporate umbrella. Of course, by taking this step, I’ll be liberating myself from the tyranny of their imponderable, multi-page billing mess.

And I’ll teach them the error of their ways. If they are capable of learning, that is. Honestly, I rather doubt it.

Really, these corporate giants, when they cease to behave in a manner which can be described as “the public good” (if they ever could), deserve to topple of their own, stupid will. That, unfortunately, ends up hurting decent, hardworking people, those employed by corporations like the giant with whom I was dealing, and their related subsidiaries. But other organizations will arise to replace the toppled giants. Many of those folks unfortunate enough to lose employment with the dinosaurs will end up gaining better employment with the upstarts.

It used to be that states would issue corporate charters for set periods, after which there would be an evaluation of whether the actions of the corporation were in the public good. If not, the charter would be revoked. That practice should resume.

This is as good a time as any to stop the merger mania of the last couple of decades, and to resume breaking up the monopolies, which do nothing good for the general public. In the meantime, we would be wise, in my opinion, to regard the logic of Senator Sanders: If a company is too big to fail (and that goes for all of the corporate entities with which we deal, from the telecommunications cartels to mega-banks to big box retail to oil giants), it is too big to exist. In this case, if it is too big to make a sensible decision, it is too big to exist. Let the giant toppling begin.

Copyright 2009, Bill Gresham.  All rights reserved. 


Gotta Serve Somebody

450_Snow on bike

This article appeared in the March 2009 issue of the Mension, the newsletter of Mid-American Mensa.
The other day I was in my house, adding an extra layer of clothing and another stack of mutual fund certificates to the fire to fight the chill. It was about 19 degrees outdoors. I looked out the front window, and saw a young fellow walking along, wearing shorts, a hooded sweatshirt, and a stocking cap. In spite of myself,. I thought “well, there’s one less competitor for scarce resources”.
At times these days, that kind of thinking comes more easily than it used to. Not that I welcome it. I don’t believe in the utility of a worldview in which everyone is a rival for dwindling supplies of life’s necessities. In fact, I think we’re all better off if we work to develop ways to cooperate with one another, and tc nurture networks of local sufficiency.
That attitude seems even more important now, what with the economic situation the way it is. There’s little need to elaborate here on the myriad examples of evidence supporting a storyline of an economy in trouble.
And yet… it begs a question. What is the economy? We mostly accept it as an entity the existence of which is in and of itself. But is that right?
Writer David Korten (www.davidkorten.org) puts it this way: “The only legitimate function of an economic system is to serve life.” That doesn’t seem so strange. At least not until we examine generally-accepted attitudes toward “the economy”. Our culture, it seems, holds that “the economy” is the primary meter by which the success of a society is measured.
That economy, Korten points out, “is wildly out of balance with human needs and the natural environment.” As a consequence, we’re faced with the disaster before us. And a culture dedicated to serving an abstraction, an economic system.
Perhaps we should begin assessing economic function against indicators of what we really want – flourishing children, families, communities, and natural systems.
It seems self-evident to me that, if our worldview doesn’t fit strategically with what author Derrick Jensen (wwwderrickjensen.org) calls “a sane and sustainable way of living”, we’re kind of like that guy wearing shorts when it’s 19 degrees out – foolish and ill-prepared for conditions which don’t mesh with our abilities to cope. We’d better find that sane and sustainable way of living and, it seems to me, we should work to define an economic system the function of which is to serve life, not vice-versa.


Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started