Friday, November 30, 2007

Yeah Right

From the NYT:
Aides to Mr. Giuliani dismiss questions about his use of statistics as nitpicking, arguing that no one can dispute the big points he makes by using the statistics: that crime dropped significantly during his tenure, say, or that he worked to restrain spending in New York.

"The mayor likes detail, and uses it frequently on the campaign trail in ways the other candidates don’t," said Maria Comella, a spokeswoman for Mr. Giuliani. "And at the end of the day, he is making points that are true."
So Giuliani has no need to be accurate, but even if he isn't, he's still right. The hole in that logic should be blazingly apparent to anyone who isn't under some sort of magic spell or hasn't recently been hit on the head with a hammer.

I don't want to get all recursive here, but a few months back I wrote a bit about atheism and how the spirit of religious debate has bled into other areas of thought, and has even (incorrectly) been called "postmodernist" (start at the paragraph that begins "Now, my professors at NYU..."). But it's not just religious debate that is irrational nowadays. There's a feeling that you can say whatever you want and escape comment, because whatever it was that you said, it actually meant this. It's not often directly called postmodernism, but this thinking is associated with postmodernism, often negatively.

When this fake postmodernism is used to defend a point, it's usually under the assumption that postmodernism has unequivocally concluded that facts are meaningless and anything can be proven. As such, it's used to defend things that couldn't be defended in any other way: ideas that are fascist, dogmatic, or just plain stupid.

I think the classic example is the Bush aide sneering at a reporter for being a member of the "reality-based community": while the reporter sniffed at the ground, confined to what was (snicker) real (guffaw), Bush and his hero squad would be creating that reality simply by willing it to happen. Another good case is Stephen Colbert's "truthiness", but if I went any more into that, I might as well go work for the New York Times, rather than just quote from them. The common thread is the desire to legitimize something abstract and ideological, even after it is clear that such a thing cannot be done.

Now, postmodernism does generally conclude that one viewpoint is just as legitimate as another, but that's from a theoretical standpoint, not a practical one, at least in the less wacky interpretations. All viewpoints are legitimate in that they come from the same source, namely ourselves, and though they can be influenced by things like facts and statistics, your conscious consideration of facts when making a judgment doesn't in itself give your conclusion any special status, it just makes it more realistic, more practical. Facts can't tell you what to do; they can only describe something. The conclusions are yours to make.

When people invoke this anything-goes sentiment to deride postmodernism, they tend to deliberately misrepresent it as anarchic and dangerous (in that it does things like excuse Nazism) as well, and usually with a really bitchy attitude. These are usually older professors or self-affected champions of the common man. The old professors are just angry that the stuff they were taught when they were in school isn't being taught anymore. The champions of the common man are too intellectually lazy to examine the basic tenants of their own thought. The result for both, however, is the same: because postmodernism doesn't sanction a specific list of ideas, it cannot justify their own (or anyone else's), and they think that makes it useless in practical terms.

After all, if you really lived your life questioning the nature of your identity at every moment, you would be paralyzed with fear, and you'd eventually starve to death from distraction. But that's not putting the ideas to successful use. The important part of postmodernism, as with any stable of thinking, is to realize its implications - to recognize why the world is as it is.

Both of these failures, the intentional misinterpretation and the fatuous dismissal of postmodernism, hinge on a deliberate error in thinking that all postmodernist thinking is alike, or that it may only be applied in one way. It's unfair to attack postmodernism as nonsense because people abuse its name; it's even less fair if you're the one abusing it. These two groups are people that should know better: postmodernism is less of a single theory and more of a critical method that, in one of its many aspects, challenges assumptions about objectivity. That makes its definition elusive, but that's the whole point.

But because that's not obvious enough, not sexy enough to justify claiming that the Earth is only 6,000 years old, that first camp cuts out the practical end of the argument, or they just don't grasp it. They think indeterminacy means they can say whatever the hell they want and then back it up with "Well, that's what my thinking has brought me to", or "My facts differ from yours". All of a sudden, we no longer feel the need to debate using the same facts, the same independently verifiable figures. So debate is meaningless. It doesn't mean that everyone is right; it means everyone is wrong.

It's not theoretically justifiable to just throw around any old facts or figures and claim that even if they're wrong, they're somehow not. Someone like Giuliani likes to say things that he just makes up because they make him sound smart and because it thus appears that it's the facts talking, not some guy puffing himself up. People turn to postmodernism to legitimize their zany, half-baked ideas because every other school of thought has turned them away. No theory, however, can support saying things that are just wrong. "At the end of the day", they're still wrong.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

But Seriously, Folks

Here is a rapid-fire-style update and one big introspective self-hugfest that's probably only interesting to me.

- At the beginning of November, I moved from Sandyford to a place in Temple Bar, right in the middle of city centre. I am a six minute walk from Trinity. The new place is quiet, clean, neatly decorated and close to absolutely everything. I'm sharing it with a Finnish couple at the moment, but they're leaving in mid-December, and Simon and Louise will take their place.

- I've been seeing a girl from Galway named Susan for about two months. She's a English graduate of Trinity and she dressed up as a bag of tea on Halloween. I was a cowboy.

- Of my four classes, the two seminars, Post-War British Fiction and Mass Death and Apocalypse Fiction, are the clear standout favorites. The two required courses, The Book and Modernism, are dull but not hard or demanding.

- I have to decide in what classes I'm doing essays and what I'm doing them on very soon. I'm leaning towards Post-War British Fiction, because I've already got a ton of ideas, but the professor is a little chilly towards me; an essay in the Apocalypse Fiction course would guarantee me a high mark but would be much harder to write without any solid inspiration.

- I'm visiting New York City with Susan and some of her friends in December, then I'm heading on alone back to Philadelphia for a few days. I'll finally be 21 in the States when I return.

- Michael Nutter was elected as the new mayor of Philadelphia last week with an overwhelming majority (something like 83%). I am absolutely thrilled, as Nutter is singularly passionate about improving Philadelphia and making it a great place. A lot of people are behind him and it seems like a change for the better is on the way.

- "Nutter" in Irish slang means a crazy person or someone who lacks common sense.

- Public dissatisfaction with Bertie and his government is growing. Something like sixty percent say they want him gone sooner rather than later; no one honestly believes this government is going to last a full five years. The presumed alternative, a Fine Gael-led coalition with Enda Kenny as Taoiseach, depresses the hell out of me (something about "robbing Peter to pay Paul" comes to mind).

- I'm seeking out Irish language classes, but the most prominent organisation that offers courses, Gael Linn, charges over three hundred euro for a six-week beginner's course, which has drawn gasps of disbelief from everyone I mention this to. Some other cheaper courses are available, but Simon has suggested hiring a one-on-one teacher, which sounds much better than an expensive and lackluster evening class I would probably quickly grow to dislike.

- The public at large remains panicky about the economy, which is expected to cool off, if not turn south next year. The housing market has already become markedly sluggish, which is a big problem for Ireland, as a large portion of the Celtic Tiger was the developer boom. There is a real anxiety that Ireland will lose its status as an international business hotspot, or even that things will go back to the way they were in the "bad old days" before the late 1990's, which is, frankly, unrealistic. The media, which loves to scare the dickens out of people with this kind of stuff, is a significant factor in the economic chill.

- European leaders have agreed on a new treaty to replace the previous one that established the European Constitution and which was voted down by the Netherlands and France in referendum. The new treaty, called the Reform Treaty or the Treaty of Lisbon, is quite similar to the European Constitution, but makes significant concessions to the larger states and specifically puts Ireland back in terms of representation and clout. The treaty has now to be put to the 27 member states before it can be implemented. Ireland's constitution requires that international treaties be put to referendum; as of yet it's the only referendum being held by a European state this time around. The vote is due to be held in the first half of next year. Government ministers and European officials keep saying that Ireland will be "left behind" if they vote down the new treaty; in actuality it would probably just piss off the larger member states and deny a speedy ratification (the treaty can't come into effect unless the member states unanimously agree to it).

- Even though I have absolutely no say in the matter, I'd vote against the treaty, because it's a confused jumble of kickbacks and pork—it's simply the result of way too much compromise. The EU needs to decide whether they want a more federal system that has a direct hand in the affairs of the member states or a loose confederacy that normalises things like trade, health standards, and human rights. They can't have both. Until then it's just gonna be endless horsetrading in place of coherent policy.

- Lately I've started trying to put some perspective on my recent life. The move from Sandyford, which was contentious, and the beginning of my second year in Ireland has gotten me in a persistently reflective mood, specifically about my own behavior, both internally and when dealing with others. And I do count solving my personal hang-ups and personality defects as one of my long-term goals, and I think progress is slow but steady.

One of the major things I realised over the summer is my need to change. I don't really see introversion as a virtue anymore. I used to think that my reluctance to reveal too much of myself made me "mysterious", or at least interesting. It didn't engender that reluctance, it only justified it. Though I was always willing to hang out with people, I also never made any effort to reach out to people, and I became content with sitting on the periphery. Earlier in life, that "mysteriousness" can be misconstrued as intriguing, but it gets tiresome later. To people with greater experience, it only reveals oneself as lacking in confidence, which alienates all the right types of people and attracts all the wrong types.

It's also become clear that I have to stop feeding my insecurities. If my reticence with others is the problem from the outside, my lack of confidence is the problem from within. On many occasions it's been impossible for me to simply shrug my shoulders and move on, as if I was determined to let things bother me. Previously, if I didn't over-analyze things, I would feel unprepared, like the nastiest surprise would be my reward, and I would find myself totally unprepared when it came. At least when I fretted over something to absolute death, and things didn't turn out like I expected them to, I was happily surprised.

But in these cases, the outcome is the exactly the same, no matter what you do to mentally prepare for it. Like my transfer to Trinity, for example. Once I had submitted the application, the situation was totally out of my hands. And yet that didn't give me any sense of calm: I panicked daily, and ended up bugging the crap out of the people handling my transfer (in both the Admissions dept. and the School of English). And then when I was finally accepted, I panicked once again when I fought so hard against my instinct and nearly convinced myself that New York was a better place for me. Though it was Kelly, with a patience I have seen demonstrated in my lifetime by fewer people than the fingers on my hand, who ultimately helped me recognize my instinct and to go with it.

That sense of confidence and exhilaration that I felt when I came back to Dublin was the final confirmation that I had acted correctly - not only that I had made the right decision, but that I had come about that decision in the right way. I had known the right answer all along, but I was so afraid of making a misstep that I basically invented an excuse to back away from the act of decision—I had obligations in New York, NYU is a better-suited school, I can always come back if I want, and so on.

The alternative to making decisions squarely and confidently is living in fear, not only of others and what they may think, but of oneself. I am never going to reach my potential by second-guessing. So it's in this light that I think that re-examining oneself is good. It's not second-guessing, and it's not retreating from lack of confidence.

I have been consciously asking myself lately:
  • Am I confronting problems directly and confidently?
  • Am I recognising indecision? Am I identifying what has caused it?
  • Am I recognising when my insecurities manifest? What am I doing to talk myself down?
  • Am I associating with people who encourage good behavior?
The answers are rewarding, because while they signal that I still have to make big changes in my life that will at times be uncomfortable, I know good will come of it.

Of course I've recognised my problems for a long time, but I'm getting the sense that I'm finally tackling them with real decision. Hooray for me.