The Art of Justice

Policy is an instrument of art, ideally of justice, even though it has been put to unjust use. Justice is known through practice. A community is known by what we have. "I am because we are" is the Ubuntu concept-word of the revelation of the self through its relationship and participation in a community. This is The Art of Justice. 

Justice is a verb

Let not any one pacify his conscience by the delusion that he can do no harm if he takes no part, and forms no opinion. Bad men need nothing more to compass their ends, than that good men should look on and do nothing. He is not a good man who, without a protest, allows wrong to be committed in his name, and with the means which he helps to supply, because he will not trouble himself to use his mind on the subject.” — John Stuart Mill, 1867 inaugural address at the University of St. Andrews

Justice requires courage. 

Justice is a verb.

Seminar: Survival

"They would choose freedom, no matter how fleeting.  . . .  Survival is insufficient."

 

Hope

"If we want to truly endure, we can't just focus on what it takes to merely survive. We have to focus on what it takes to truly live. And that doesn't just come from the head; it comes from the heart. So the non-essentials, as you call them, the writers, the artists,  the dreamers--they are essential, because in our darkest hours, they give us the most essential ingredient to the survival of our species: Hope. And in the end, it is hope, and only hope, that will save us."

----Jillian, Salvation, S1:E4

Kobyashi Maru

The Kobyashi Maru is an exercise in Starfleet’s training program, designed as a no-win situation that tests ethical decision-making and leadership. During the exercise, a cadet encounters a civilian ship in distress. To save the civilians, the cadet needs to enter the Neutral Zone, violating a treaty. If the cadet honors the treaty, the civilians will be left stranded and at the mercy of the hostile Klingons.  If the treaty is broken, the Klingon armies will likely attack and board the ship being commanded by the cadet. 

What would you do faced with the original Kobyashi Maru?

What do you think of Kirk’s “success” through cheating?

What sorts of ethical decisions are in play as the Kobyashi Maru opens? How do ethical decisions who went before us influence, limit, and shape the (perceived) possibilities of our decisions and leadership today?

Do you believe in the existence of no-win situations? (Kirk didn’t.)

When faced with a no-win situation, what is the most ethical place from which to proceed? What role does self-interest play in a no-win situation? Is it the only thing that one has any power over at that point?

It matters quite a bit how we go about making decisions when it seems as though there are no good options. Kirk famously said “I don’t like to lose” when faced with the Kobyashi Maru (and then cheated to change the rules so that he could “win”). No one likes to lose, and that’s why this exercise exists, especially at the point that a cadet is being considered for leadership. The point of the no-win situation presented (which Kirk cheats his way out of) is to see what kind of character a cadet has. Clearly Kirk’s character is one that finds personal victory important enough to cheat. 

This, as you might imagine, bothers me, not just because cheating is wrong (so so so wrong!!!) but because real life isn’t about winning, it’s often about losing with integrity, or at least as much integrity as you can salvage. 

Academia is broken

Academia is having a normal one.

There's an important paper waiting to be written about the precarity of the professorship. This is a disgrace, and a continuation of decades of precarity in education. We can do better.

 “The Department of Chemistry and Biochemistry at UCLA seeks applications for an Assistant Adjunct Professor on a without salary basis. Applicants must understand there will be no compensation for this position.” 

University assets continue to post historic gains. "UC assets grow by $38 billion in 2021 to $168 billion, with endowment returning 33.7 percent and pension up 30.5 percent"  

And tuition continues to outpace inflation at a blistering pace "How Much is the tuition for 4 years at UCLA? For the students who were admitted in Fall 2021, the estimated tuition for 4 years is $52,966 for California residents and $176,376 for out-of state students."

Meanwhile, in sports:

"The new contract will pay Kelly an average of $4.7 million annually, a source told ESPN. Including incentives, Kelly could make $23 million ($5.75 million per year) over the course of the contract, sources told ESPN's Chris Low. His salary in 2021 was $5.6 million. UCLA has posted a 18-25 record in Kelly's four years." Jan 15, 2022

The Social Gospel and Education

     The New York Times article "Do Other Countries Teach Better?" opens with a paragraph that sets out its framework: the US labor force is at a disadvantage for global competition in the "new global economy." The headline sets the stage for this salient leap of illogic, proclaiming, in the form of an investigative question, that "other countries teach better."

     I cry foul from the starting whistle. One cannot simply take a ranking of a basic performance metric to evaluate the global success of a population, and the editors' greatest sleight of hand here is in presenting "millions of laid off workers" as the result of a faulty national education program, generally, and of bad teaching, specifically. Essentially the equation we are shown in the headline and first paragraph is that a lack of robust employment in the United States is the teachers' fault. Put this way, it seems like a silly sentence. Nonetheless, we all do love a graph, and the editors make great use of the OECD rankings.

     "The United States is losing ground in worker training to countries in Europe and Asia whose schools are not just superior to ours but getting steadily better." It's important to note that this article comes in 2013, a few years after the great 2008 financial crisis, an economic implosion that was borne by the workers, but not by the businesses that had created a financial house of cards. But let's leave these considerations aside for a moment and discuss the comparison at hand. Do "other countries teach better?"

     The editors rightly highlight two key differences between Finland and the United States: first that education is seen as a social investment, and second -- most importantly to the editors and likewise to this scholar -- that teachers have a place of high esteem in Finnish society, reflected by rigorous training and excellent relative compensation growth within the profession. The United States takes an extreme opposite approach, and the results are clear. But what makes this approach possible in Finland and impossible in the United States?

     The answer lies in the editors' analysis of school funding in Canada, where differences in neighborhood economic levels are evened out by state coffers, again an approach exactly opposite of our country. "Americans tend to see such inequalities as the natural order of things." This, along with a national sentiment of devaluing education generally, is at the heart of the situation on the table. And American disparagement of education is itself predicated on the belief of "inequalities as the natural order of things." Only in America do you hear the adage "those who can't do, teach," and one hears it quite often, a sentiment more in line with Mao Zedong’s “cultural revolution,” which devalued intellectual pursuits and demonized academics. In Finland, Canada, and most everywhere in the world, even in the countries who performed at lower ranks on the OECD chart, it is assumed that if we want people to be able to do, we must at some point teach, and this gets to the heart of the editors' analysis. 

     Anywhere else in the developed world, a situation where "40 percent of ... public school students [are] in districts of 'concentrated student poverty'" would constitute a national crisis to be addressed with utmost urgency. In the United States, we take such a situation as a given, a reflection of "the natural order of things." What cultural conditions exist to make disparity "the natural order?" 

     This mindset reveals an underlying cultural belief in economic success as ultimate proof of moral superiority, an outgrowth of Frederick Jackson Turner's "rugged individualism" mythos turned into a cult of social darwinism, the so-called Social Gospel of the 1920s. The blueprint of the social gospel continues to drive political decisions in all areas of American society, but especially in the realm of education. "If you deserved an education," the social gospel seems to tell us, "you could afford one." Economic success is proof in this country of deservingness, whereas in other developed countries it is treated as luck, literally referred to as fortune, and comes with a sense of social obligation. The form and weight of this obligation varies from one culture to the next, but the presence of some form of duty of care for those less fortunate is undeniable in all the OECD countries on the list. China dominates the list because they have made sweeping social and political changes to value education, reversing inequality in education since the death of Mao. "Shanghai has taken several approaches to repairing the disparity between strong schools and weak ones, as measured by infrastructure and educational quality." The United States, by contrast, instituted the No Child Left Behind policy, which in effect punishes weaker schools by diminishing their funding and teacher salaries through gatekeeping federal money. 

     "If things remain as they are, countries that lag behind us will one day overtake us," the editors conclude. Their litmus for success is not, interestingly enough, on our rankings at mathematics within the OECD nations. Instead, it is American economic prowess that the editors say is in peril, that which is so worthy of preservation that we should bend the political will to achieve it. One wonders if this reflects an internalization of the American social gospel or if the authors are attempting to spur a national commitment to education by, as this reader suspects, speaking a language that will finally matter. 

     I return to my opening point. Do "other countries teach better?" is not exactly a fair question given the cultural differences on display. How the United States manages to rank as well as it does given the hostile social climate towards education is the real mystery. Perhaps America has no business being in the OECD list given the educational condition of the country. Instead, the results reveal a bit of a miracle, a story of overwhelming creative talent of educators combined with a foundation of capacity in students. The results show that America is squandering her greatest resource, her people, in a relentless adherence to the value of individual economic achievement. We must change our definition of success as a society and make a radical about-face of political will. The editors show that the commodification of education creates a risk to our global standing. We are not lacking teachers with the ability to "teach better." We are lacking leaders who value education enough for all citizens, and thereby the country, to succeed.

Nagata

The Universe never tells us if we did right or wrong. It’s more important to try to help people than to know that you did. More important that someone else’s life gets better than for you to feel good about yourself. You never know the effect you might have on someone, not really. Maybe one core thing you said haunts them forever. Maybe one moment of kindness gives them comfort or courage. Maybe you said the one thing they needed to hear. It doesn’t matter if you ever know. You just have to try. 

—-Naomi Nagata, The Expanse

2022 Wishes

"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art. It has no survival value. Rather, it is one of the things which give value to survival." C. S. Lewis

"Survival is insufficient." Star Trek Voyager, ep. 122

May your 2022 be filled with things which give value to survival.

There it is.

Tonight I gave my presentation in Ethics and Educational Decision Making, a very cool topic in its own right, and one that is at the core of my philosophical inquiry. 

 

I've spent the last several weeks on this, and the whole of the course knowing that this topic is where I needed to dig to find my dissertation. The readings and conversations each week were excellent and pushed me in just the right directions at just the right time. The syllabus has an elegance that can only be understood by looking back, and I'm glad I took the time to really delve into this for real answers.

 

The magic happened yesterday evening, that moment when all the side notes of analysis and the structural bits of logic and craft came together to create a fertile tendril of its own. I spent five hours letting the flower unfold, and then this morning I trimmed and shaped until it was a bouquet.

 

All sorts of stuff is happening in my so-called real life, and lately it's been a struggle to do even small things. Some days thinking is too much. the last couple weeks I'd begun to worry if it would ever come back.

 

The success of the last 24 hours was restorative, and I was fine until I started making tea ten minutes before the presentation. Not a crisis of confidence in the work, but a deep shaking desire not to be seen. I leaned against the wall, letting the undeniable tears have their way until the kettle boiled. 

 

I washed my face and changed my blouse while the tea steeped. There were four whole minutes left yet, and I moved slowly through each one, tying my hair up, fetching the pages of the presentation, opening the laptop, stirring sugar into the freshly poured tea.

 

The structure of class took over, and I barely noticed the shaking in my core -- reading a strong work is settling for me, kind of the opposite of stage fright. I didn't give any preamble about why this is the line of inquiry that spoke to me, I simply looked at the top line and let the words on the page take me, as they always do. When I got to the last line ten minutes later, I was kind of sad to see them go. I muted my mic.

I looked up at the quiet zoom room, wondering if I'd muted them instead, and then the professor spoke. I don't remember his first statements, and didn't really come back to reality until I was reaching for my pen to take a note on his suggestion for long term considerations of the avenue I had recommended. I had forgotten to bring my notebook and pen. When does that ever happen? I fetched the almost dead marker from my desk, the only writing instrument in the room, and scrawled "educational long term strategy" on the back of the presentation.

 

By the time the next presentation began, I was nearly human again. All of the presentations have been so great, and I feel honored to have had the wisdom of these fellow scholars this term. I felt solid about my work and the presentation. After class I poured the rest of the tea into my mug and talked with a friend, not realizing how keyed up I'd been until the drop came, ten minutes into the conversation, a warm weariness that oozed down through my bones and rooted me to the chair, to the floor, to the ground. I'd be asleep in thirty minutes or less, so I heated up some leftover Golden Noodle Heal All, brushed my teeth, and headed to bed.

I was drifting off when my phone chimed with a text, and I blearily realized that meant it wasn't on the charging stand -- the charging routine goes into do not disturb, possibly my favorite technological feature ever. 

 

The message from my professor made my whole day.

 

 

 

Onward, friends.

Life of a Philosopher

This morning I'm reading, writing, and drinking tea, my preferred way to spend a Saturday. Back in 2014,  the national measles outbreak--and the intense public conversation that went with it--propelled me to write my 2016 Master's thesis.

Friends, I'm still at it.

Graduation isn't the end of scholarship; it's the beginning.

 

 

Double Take

Think of all the cases of Coronavirus that the US had up to Thanksgiving. That's a lot of cases, roughly 12.5 million. 

Since Thanksgiving, we've doubled it.

Callous disregard for the harm we cause others is the real virus.

The Power of Logic

Remember that time when a Philosopher defeated the heavyweight champion and saved the girl?

From 1959 to his retirement in 1978, Sir Alfred held the Wykeham Chair, Professor of Logic at Oxford. He was knighted in 1970. After his retirement, Ayer taught or lectured several times in the United States, including serving as a visiting professor at Bard College in the fall of 1987. At a party that same year held by fashion designer Fernando Sanchez, Ayer, then 77, confronted Mike Tyson who was forcing himself upon the (then) little-known model Naomi Campbell. When Ayer demanded that Tyson stop, the boxer reportedly asked, "Do you know who the fuck I am? I'm the heavyweight champion of the world;" to which Ayer replied, "And I am the former Wykeham Professor of Logic. We are both pre-eminent in our field. I suggest that we talk about this like rational men". Ayer and Tyson then began to talk, allowing Campbell to slip out. [14]

Just the essentials

Packing for Chicago

"We are not what we wish or believe ourselves to be.

We are what we do.

We are the sum total of those acts we do 

and those we choose not to do."

L. E. Modesitt, Jr.

Quote of the Day: Ijeoma Oluo

"Fear not the thought that right now, you could be contributing to the oppression of others and you don't know it. But do not fear those who bring the oppression to light. Do not fear the opportunity to do better." -- Ijeoma Oluo "So You Want to Talk About Race"

Silence & Solitude

I've gotten into a bit of a groove with my weekends of Silence & Solitude, and I confess: I love them. Love, love, LOVE them. There is something magical that happens when I'm all by myself and I know that nothing needs me, and that everything is, in fact, far away and removed from me, couldn't make use of me if I had it. Days of Silence & Solitude have become little treasures that I give to myself.

Today's foray into the Realm of the Self yielded a slew of journal pages, writings, drawing, colored pens, the whole lot -- no focus at the outset, none needed and none found for hours and hours, what most folks would see (myself included when I'm in my linear mindset) as a patent Waste Of Time.

And then, after twelve hours of poking around, coloring like a little kid, making notes of randomness in the extreme on all the pages, wherever they seemed to fit at the time, some Stuff started to Come Forth. I usually know this is going on not because it seems any more important or meaningful than the other stuff that I have been scribbling down, but because it feels just a bit different. It tickles, tingles and is bubbly a bit and, often, I laugh. Well, giggle, really. It feels delightful.

And then there are the Things that show up as it all pours forth. Today, three proposals for independent study, one with a chaplain, one to create a foundation, and one for studies related to a possible presentation on stoicism and the community mandate (is there one?); two book premises (one about choices we make and the other about the power of gifting); a baker's dozen articles on real solutions for a mental health toolkit; a request to Amanda Palmer for some of her books to give away to folks who need them; the beginnings of a conversation with Massimo.

I can't exactly tell you how doodling about karma, the new moon in gemini, my upcoming Nerd Fitness challenge, a song from my love, the afternoon rain, the pending republican primary election had anything whatsoever to do with what came out. But there it is, sports fans, in all its glory.

Behold, the power of Nothing.

It's time to raise the minimum wage