Walter Benn Michaels reviews Who Cares about the White Working Class? edited by Kjartan Páll Sveinsson in the LRB:

In the US, there is (or was) an organisation called Love Makes a Family. It was founded in 1999 to support the right of gay couples to adopt children and it played a central role in supporting civil unions. A few months ago, its director, Ann Stanback, announced that, having ‘achieved its goals’, Love Makes a Family would be ceasing operations at the end of this year, and that she would be stepping down to spend more time with her wife, Charlotte. Our ‘core purpose’, she said, has been ‘accomplished’.

It’s possible of course that this declaration of mission accomplished will prove to be as ill-advised as some others have been in the last decade. Gay marriage is legal in Connecticut, where Love Makes a Family is based, but it’s certainly not legal everywhere in the US. No one, however, would deny that the fight for gay rights has made extraordinary strides in the 40 years since Stonewall. And progress in combating homophobia has been accompanied by comparable progress in combating racism and sexism. Although the occasional claim that the election of President Obama has ushered us into a post-racial society is obviously wrong, it’s fairly clear that the country that’s just elected a black president (and that produced so many votes for the presidential candidacy of a woman) is a lot less racist and sexist than it used to be.

But it would be a mistake to think that because the US is a less racist, sexist and homophobic society, it is a more equal society. In fact, in certain crucial ways it is more unequal than it was 40 years ago. No group dedicated to ending economic inequality would be thinking today about declaring victory and going home.

Peter Singer in Project Syndicate:

To those who argue that legalizing organ sales would help the poor, Nancy Scheper-Hughes, founder of Organ Watch, pointedly replies: “Perhaps we should look for better ways of helping the destitute than dismantling them.” No doubt we should, but we don’t: our assistance to the poor is woefully inadequate, and leaves more than a billion people living in extreme poverty.

In an ideal world, there would be no destitute people, and there would be enough altruistic donors so that no one would die while waiting to receive a kidney. Zell Kravinsky, an American who has given a kidney to a stranger, points out that donating a kidney can save a life, while the risk of dying as a result of the donation is only 1 in 4000. Not donating a kidney, he says, thus means valuing your own life at 4000 times that of a stranger – a ratio he describes as “obscene.” But most of us still have two kidneys, and the need for more kidneys persists, along with the poverty of those we do not help.

We must make policies for the real world, not an ideal one. Could a legal market in kidneys be regulated to ensure that sellers were fully informed about what they were doing, including the risks to their health? Would the demand for kidneys then be met? Would this produce an acceptable outcome for the seller?

To seek an answer, we can turn to a country that we do not usually think of as a leader in either market deregulation or social experimentation: Iran.

If one wants to survey the Soviet anti-fascist vista that imposed itself both physically and metaphorically throughout Communist Eastern Europe after 1945, there is no better vantage point than the Treptow Monument in central Berlin. Situated in the Treptower Park on the banks of the River Spree, the monument’s centrepiece is an immense 40-ton statue of a Red Army soldier. Saviour, liberator, protector, this imposing figure – head fixed nobly high, trampling a swastika underfoot and shielding a small girl in his arms – exudes an aura of principled ferocity that was an emphatic statement about Communism’s victory over Nazism. Sculpted by Yevgeny Vuchetich (1908-74), the monument, whose upkeep was one of the Soviet Union’s stipulations for agreeing to German reunification, was officially unveiled on May 8th, 1949 at the height of the Cold War. Flanked by a series of frescoes glorifying the struggle of the Soviet people in the Great Patriotic War and bearing quotations from Joseph Stalin in Russian and German, Treptow overlooks a mass grave containing the remains of 5,000 Soviet soldiers who died during the final Battle of Berlin in spring 1945. Its symbolism casts the arrival of the Red Army as an act of fraternal liberation: Soviet heroes freeing captive populations from the grip of fascism. In this way it stood as a constant reminder of a debt of gratitude. It was also deliberately selective. Distilling the war on the Eastern Front into a simple story of the good (the Soviet Union) against evil (Nazi Germany), the Treptow Monument conveniently overlooked the Nazi-Soviet Pact of 1939 to focus the narrative on the military achievements of the Red Army

. more from Martin Evans at History Today here.

Imagine we are invited to answer two questions: Is it possible to speak of a Chinese identity, formed in history, which makes China different from the rest of the world? Can the Chinese find an inspiration in it for their future? For an average Chinese person, an affirmative answer to both questions would be so obvious as to obviate the need to ask them. For an average European looking at China from the outside, the answers would be no less self-evident. But the same European would be much more hesitant if posed the questions with respect to Europe. Where does this difference between Chinese and European identity arise? The answer is easily given. A Chinese person is accustomed to thinking of China as a unified cultural and political entity; as an empire. Europeans, on the other hand, think in terms of plurality: a plurality of idioms, cultural regions, religions, and inside religions, confessions. Not to mention, of course, the plurality of nations.

more from Krzysztof Pomian at Eurozine here.

Sixty-four pages into his 1930 manifesto of rhythmic experimentation, New Musical Resources, the composer and music theorist Henry Cowell made a passing suggestion about how his more extravagant ideas might be realized: “Some of the rhythms developed through the present acoustical investigation could not be played by any living performer; but these highly engrossing rhythmical complexes could easily be cut on a player piano roll.”1 As far as­ we know, onl­y one man took him up on the proposal, an expat American card-carrying communist jazz trumpeter and polyrhythmic prodigy named Conlon Nancarrow. But this man made it his life’s work.­ ­Nancarrow’s early years are­ s­ummarized in a laconic biography from the January 1938 edition of New Music: “Born 1912, Texarkana, Ark­a­nsas. Studied at Cincinnati Conservatory for two years. Worked way to Europe in 1936. No j­ob since return. Went to Spain to help fight Fascism.” “There is nothing to do but hope for his safe return,” wrote a sympathetic Aaron Copland at the time.

more from Jeff Dolven at Cabinet here.

Drake Bennett in the Boston Globe:

Can money buy happiness? Since the invention of money, or nearly enough, people have been telling one another that it can’t. Philosophers and gurus, holy books and self-help manuals have all warned of the futility of equating material gain with true well-being.

Modern research generally backs them up. Psychologists and economists have found that while money does matter to your sense of happiness, it doesn’t matter that much. Beyond the point at which people have enough to comfortably feed, clothe, and house themselves, having more money – even a lot more money – makes them only a little bit happier. So there’s quantitative proof for the preachings of St. Francis and the wisdom of the Buddha. Bad news for hard-charging bankers; good news for struggling musicians.

But starting to emerge now is a different answer to that age-old question. A few researchers are looking again at whether happiness can be bought, and they are discovering that quite possibly it can – it’s just that some strategies are a lot better than others. Taking a friend to lunch, it turns out, makes us happier than buying a new outfit. Splurging on a vacation makes us happy in a way that splurging on a car may not.

More here.

Alok Rai in the Daily Times:

(The present article grew out of a series of exchanges between two friends, one Indian, the other Pakistani. “Kashmir” is a problem with far-reaching consequences for both societies. It is important that members of civil society on both sides of the border talk to each other in a spirit of serious engagement, and so carry forward the people-to-people dialogue beyond the not insignificant level of biryani and banter. It is in that spirit that this view from India is offered.)

My proposition is simple — despite the proclamations of generations of Pakistani leaders, Pakistan’s Kashmir problem has nothing to do with Kashmir. It is a fact that the transfer of power in Kashmir way back at the time of Independence and Partition was a messy business — but that is over and done with.

As far as the UN Resolution is concerned, there is simply no possibility of a return to the status quo ante. Even if it were possible to imagine Pakistani forces vacating “Azad Kashmir” — a.k.a. POK, but why bother to go that way? — and of Indian forces vacating Indian Kashmir, there is no possibility of returning to that time in which the plebiscite was supposed to be held.

More here. [Thanks to Manisha Verma.]

Matthew Lynn in the Times of London:

One of them is a “poseur”. The other is “patronising”. One suffers from “verbal diarrhoea”. The other is a “whiner”.

A bust-up on the set of High School Musical 4 perhaps? A scrap behind the catwalk at a Milan fashion show? No. Those accusations were slung round in an increasingly bitter public row between two of the world’s most distinguished commentators on global finance and economics, professors Paul Krugman and Niall Ferguson, of Princeton and Harvard, respectively.

It started as an argument about bond prices. But last week it blew up into a row about racism, printing money, spending our way out of recession, and the fate of the global economy.

Academic spats can, of course, be famously catty. Ludwig Wittgenstein once tossed a poker at his fellow philosopher Karl Popper at a meeting of the Cambridge Moral Science Club as they argued about whether issues in philosophy were real or just linguistic puzzles. At least Krugman and Ferguson haven’t come to blows yet, although at their next meeting it might be better to hide the blunt instruments. Still, it is a long time since the academic world witnessed a dispute as gladiatorial as this one.

More here. [Photo shows Niall Ferguson.]

Nine Steps to the Shed

Most every morning
it’s out the back door to step,
mug in one hand, curiosity in the other,
down to the first of nine
off-round uneven Caithness slabs
roughly the size and shape of mammoth’s footprints
that stomp across uneven, soggy grass
dividing house from shed,

And it’s true I feel myself following in the bulk
of something vast, patient, fissured —
the deep past, say, or the world yet undeclared —
on this short transition from one dwelling to another.

What’s down there today? A fresh splatter
from passing gull, faint stains of last week’s nosebleed,
the snail lurched sideways in its crunched house,
and something between an image and a phrase that earlier
fell on my bowed head in the shower:
plenty to be going on with!

Read more »

From Salon:

Fairy-tale weddings, searching for Prince Charming, or even for Mr. Big: It all seems so 1990s. These days, it's women, not men, who are reluctant to commit to marriage — with those who have committed regretting having done so — and they're writing about it all over the place. Earlier this summer, Sandra Tsing-Loh, in an essay about her divorce, came out against the “companionate marriage” in the Atlantic Monthly. Cristina Nehring blamed such bloodless arrangements for the bankrupt state of romance in “A Vindication of Love.” Only the profoundly unhip Caitlin Flanagan defended the institution in Time. (The upshot of her un-sexy argument? It's for the kids.)

Now “Eat Pray Love” author Elizabeth Gilbert, who has an uncanny ability to produce books that speak (however irritatingly) to deep cultural undercurrents, has written about her own marital uncertainty. A story in Thursday's New York Times offers details about her new memoir, “Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage,” which will be published by Viking in January. With the book's proposed print-run of 1 million copies (!), the cultural referendum on marriage we have been participating in for what feels like forever now promises not to end anytime soon. Ambivalence about marriage, you might say, is the new black. (Gilbert was not only ambivalent about marriage, she was also ambivalent about her book about marriage — she threw away a 500-page draft before, um, committing to “Committed.”)

More here.

John Tierney in The New York Times:

Here is an experiment you don’t want to try at home.

Show a toy — a doll, say, or a model boat — to a toddler and explain that it it’s something special you’ve had since you were little. Ask the child to be “very careful” with it. Hand over the toy, which appears to be in fine condition, except that you’ve secretly rigged it to break spectacularly as soon as the child handles it. When your precious toy falls apart, express regret by mildly saying, “Oh, my.” Then sit still and observe the child.

The point is not to permanently traumatize anyone — the researchers who performed this experiment quickly followed it with a ritual absolving the child of blame. But first, for 60 seconds after the toy broke, the psychologists recorded every reaction as the toddlers squirmed, avoided the experimenter’s gaze, hunched their shoulders, hugged themselves and covered their faces with their hands.

More here.

Zhang Jie. Self portrait. 2008.

More here and here.

Missing Girl Probably Raped

Over at Democracy Now, a discussion with Pervez Hoodbhoy, Frida Berrigan, and Daniel Ellsberg (including a video):

AMY GOODMAN: We’re talking about the atomic age. Sixty-four years ago this weekend, on August 6th and August 9th, 1945, the atomic bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki by the US military, thus launching the nuclear age. For more on this, we’re joined now by three guests.

Pervez Hoodbhoy, nuclear physicist and disarmament activist, chair of the Physics Department at the Quaid-i-Azam University in Islamabad, joining us from Washington, DC.

Here in our firehouse studio is Frida Berrigan, longtime peace activist, senior program associate of the Arms and Security Initiative at the New America Foundation. Previously, she served for eight years at the Arms Trade Resource Center at the World Policy Institute. Her latest article appears at Tom Dispatch; it’s called “For the Sixty-Fourth Time: No More Nuclear War.”

And joining us via Democracy Now! video stream from California, Daniel Ellsberg, the whistleblower who leaked the Pentagon Papers that exposed the true story behind the US decision making in the Vietnam War. Over the next year, he plans to release segments of his memoir in order to reveal the true history of the American nuclear era. The first part appears at Truthdig and his website last week, called “Hiroshima Day: America Has Been Asleep at the Wheel for 64 Years.”

Andrew Clark in the FT:

The Lantana hostel, 30 minutes’ drive from Seville, is one of the few places in the world where Daniel Barenboim, conductor, pianist and pathological over-achiever, feels sufficiently relaxed to put his feet up. Literally. As I am ushered into a sun-filled room, I see him lounging on a sofa at the far end, dressed down in a white polo-shirt and grey striped trousers, his bare feet perched on the coffee table. For the past eight years he has been coming to Lantana to work with the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra, which he and the late Palestinian writer and philosopher Edward Said founded in 1999.

It is the day after a performance of Beethoven’s Fidelio in Seville’s Teatro de la Maestranza – the culmination of an intensive two-week rehearsal period. Barenboim looks tired. The following morning he and a 103-strong entourage, ranging in age from 12 to mid-20s, will set off on a gruelling international tour, finishing next Friday and Saturday at the BBC Proms in London.

Barenboim, now 66, has been at the forefront of classical music for six decades. He gave his first piano recital at the age of seven in his native Argentina (three years later he and his family moved to Israel). At 17 he performed his first cycle of the 32 Beethoven piano sonatas, a feat he has repeated about 30 times around the world. Aged 20 and already fluent in five languages, he made his conducting debut in Israel, later becoming music director of the Orchestre de Paris, the Chicago Symphony and the Berlin State Opera – the last of which remains his fiefdom, along with La Scala, Milan, where three years ago the post of maestro scaligero (master of La Scala) was created for him.

The music in Barenboim’s life never stops but in the West-Eastern Divan, named after a collection of Goethe poems evoking western awareness of eastern culture, it shares the limelight with political activism. He sees the orchestra as a model for dialogue in the Middle East – an example of how to break the wall of hatred between peoples.