Tuesday Poem

Compost

A dying person or thing is still alive. That is the main thing about it; the dying is second. Perhaps even the dead are alive although that is another question, prone to projection. The dead are like us, and unlike. Analogies have problems.

Metaphors are violent, one part always subsumed. What are we left but litany? How are we to draw any line, any word? I am an unwilling surgeon and also the body on the table. The blood is my blood.

The blood is thick with plastics, cholesterol, false estrogen. I make teas from plants that do not manage to amend me. Still, I like the plants. I could compost my blood or tincture it to drink in solidarity with the garden.

Survival is a continuity with the dead. No contradiction. Even in the winter, the wrenching

cold holds seeds.

by Shea Boresi
from the Ecotheo Review



Bob Thompson’s Fraught Dance with the Old Masters

Jackson Arn at The New Yorker:

There is no exact word for what Thompson does with the Old Masters. His paintings—the subject of “Bob Thompson: Agony & Ecstasy,” the unmissable show at Rosenfeld, and another, “Bob Thompson: So Let Us All Be Citizens,” at 52 Walker—contain hundreds of motifs snatched from the Western canon, wedged into dense compositions, and coated in bright colors. The results are too calm for parody and too self-secure for homage. Stanley Crouch thought that Thompson, a jazz fanatic, improvised on European art the way a saxophonist improvises on standards, but even that seems a notch too reverent. He doesn’t riff on masterpieces so much as rifle through them, grabbing a handful of Goya or Tintoretto as though reaching for the cadmium yellow. For “The Entombment” (1960), his painting of a hatted man tumbling off his horse, he seems to have taken the lifeless, drooping torso from El Greco’s “The Entombment of Christ” (which El Greco lifted from Michelangelo, but that’s another story) and cast it in a drama of his own making, so that every brushstroke whooshes toward the bottom like a waterfall.

more here.

Monday, May 1, 2023

The ‘I’ and the ‘We’

by Martin Butler

Bemoaning the ills of individualism is nothing new. Jonathan Sack’s bestseller, “Morality, Restoring the Common Good in Divided Times”(2020) provides us with one of the more comprehensive accounts of how we lost community and why we need it back. Justin Welby sums it up well in the foreword: “His message is simple enough: ours is an age in which there is too much ‘I’ and not enough ‘We’. Sacks himself puts the point succinctly when he says: “The revolutionary shift from “We” to “I” means that everything that once consecrated the moral bonds binding us to one another – faith, creed, culture, custom and convention – no longer does … leaving us vulnerable and alone.”

The book is divided into five parts, the first four giving a detailed account of how the shift from ‘We’ to ‘I’ took place and the fifth, entitled ’The Way Forward’, providing some suggestions as to how we might return to a more ‘We’-based society. The breadth and depth of knowledge Sacks displays is impressive, and he draws on a vast range of philosophers and numerous psychological and sociological studies to make his case, which is both detailed yet accessible to the general reader. Sacks divides society into three domains, the state, the economy and the moral system, and it is in this third domain that he claims an ‘unprecedented experiment’ has taken place in the western world, the long-term consequences of which – the divisive politics of recent years, populism, the epidemic of anxiety and depression, increasing inequality, “the assault on free speech taking place on university campuses in Britain and America” and more – we are now living with. He identifies three phases. Read more »

A Re-Evaluation of Gratitude

by Rebecca Baumgartner

Photo by Gabrielle Henderson on Unsplash

Last year, I watched a Kurzgesagt video about the science of how gratitude practices can make you happier, so I decided to start a gratitude journal. It could only help, right? 

I started jotting down a variety of things I was grateful for: my family, my piano, my cats and dog, my financial stability. I also listed smaller and more fleeting pleasures like solving the day’s Wordle in two tries, listening to a good podcast, a lovely rainstorm to break up the scorching heat. 

Then, after only about three days of journaling, a switch flipped. I suddenly wanted to chuck the gratitude journal out the window. I was rebelling not just against the journaling exercise but against the very idea of being grateful, although I wasn’t sure why.

Over the next few days, the truth gradually bubbled to the surface. Gratitude journaling felt punitive and performative, like having to write lines in school or recite prayers on a rosary. Even though the journal entries were only for me, I’d felt like I was on trial, like I was being accused – of not appreciating my life, of not trying hard enough to live in the moment, of taking my life for granted. Each journal entry was an indictment: What could I possibly have to be unhappy about?

The fact is, the feeling of thankfulness is much more complex and ambivalent than common knowledge assumes. Gratitude has a dark side that we lie to ourselves about, and this is hardly ever indicated in the bubbly, feel-good cultural conversation surrounding it. Read more »

Monday Poem

What’s More . . .

who was the woman who, 13.787 ± 0.020 billion years ago,
birthed the universe from a bang? what an extravagant nativity,
what an immense and unruly child came forth, unfurling,
emerging in the space it made

how could she have imagined how singular and varied her child would become,
how extraordinary, how expansive, how crammed with darkness and light,
bulging with multitudes of whims and trajectories, how
creative and destructive in cosmic tantrums, blowing itself apart
in an inner life of psychotic episodes of collapses and collisions
of psychic arguments, mergers, its gravities contesting, warring,
yanking part from part, captivating them in inevitable attractions,
incarcerating them in humiliating orbits

how could the mother of the universe have imagined
what would become of her child,
how it would grow past comprehension
compounding the vastness of nothing
in its creation of time.

—what’s more, how could we, her child’s
chronically egotistical mites imagine?

Jim Culleny, © 4/29/23

How Not to Defend Science

by Joseph Shieber

“In Defense of Merit in Science,” a paper published recently in the Journal of Controversial Ideas, suggests that (1) success in science is currently determined by merit, the (2) success of science in discovering significant truths is due to the fact that science is a merit-based system, and (3) the greatest threat to the continued success of science is what the authors term “Critical Social Justice.” The paper is wrong on all three counts.

1. Success in science is not currently determined by merit

Throughout the paper, the authors extol the virtues of what they call “merit-based science.” For example, on p. 5 they write:

Merit ­based science is truly fair and inclusive. It provides a ladder of opportunity and a fair chance of success for those possessing the necessary skills or talents. Neither socioeconomic privilege nor elite education is necessary.  Indeed, several co-authors of this [article] have built successful careers in science, despite being immigrants, coming from lower socioeconomic backgrounds, and not being products of ‘elite education.’

The implication of this passage is not merely that a culture of science based on merit would be a worthwhile ideal, but also that the current culture of science is largely merit-based. This would seem to be the point of including the observation regarding the “successful careers in science” of some of the co-authors, despite their having come “from lower socioeconomic backgrounds, and not being products of ‘elite education.’”

While it might be the case that it would be a worthwhile idea for science to be organized meritocratically, there is little evidence to suggest that science currently is a meritocracy. Read more »

To Reach For Your Knife: Awe As An Ethical Principle

by Jochen Szangolies

Northern lights over Reykjavik.

I would not consider myself a particularly ‘outdoors’ sort of person. Much of my work and leisure is spent in front of one screen or another, or between the pages of a book (less of the latter than I’d like, at that). However, in those last years lost to COVID-19, I, like many others, found myself spending increasing amounts of time on long hikes through the countryside.

It came as no small revelation to me how restorative that time spent wandering—alone, occasionally, but mostly together with my wife, who deserves credit for motivating me to peel myself off of the couch and making my first tentative steps into the great outdoors—turned out to be. Indeed, it almost feels a bit like cheating: a week’s worth of work anxiety, stress, and general ill-ease washed away, or at least smoothed over, by a few hours spent in the woods.

That’s not to say I would submit it as a cure-all, or some great spiritual revelation. After all, there is presumably a perfectly ordinary evolutionary reason the woods seem to satisfy some inner longing to exchange my everyday surroundings for a more natural habitat. Most zoos have long since realized that their animals fare better in some approximation of their ancestral dwellings, while we still lock ourselves away in small boxes aggregated into great concrete and glass agglomerations. It’s just something that turns out to work for me, that I was lucky to add to my self-care tool-box. Read more »

Oh No, Not Another Essay on ChatGPT

by Derek Neal

At some point in the last couple of months, my reading about ChatGPT reached critical mass. Or, I thought it had. Try as I might, I couldn’t escape the little guy; everywhere I turned there was talk of ChatGPT—what it meant for the student essay, how it could be used in business, how the darn thing actually worked, whether it was really smart, or actually, really stupid. At work, where I teach English language to international university students, I quickly found myself grading ChatGPT written essays (perfect grammar but overly vague and general) and heard predictions that soon our job would be to teach students how to use AI, as opposed to teaching them how to write. It was all so, so depressing. This led to my column a few months ago wherein I launched a defense of writing and underlined its role in the shaping of humans’ ability to think abstractly, as it seemed to me that outsourcing our ability to write could conceivably lead us to return to a pre-literate state, one in which our consciousness is shaped by oral modes of thought. This is normally characterized as a state of being that values direct experience, or “close proximity to the human life world,” while shunning abstract categories and logical reasoning, which are understood to be the result of literate cultures. It is not just writing that is at stake, but an entire worldview shaped by literacy.

The intervening months have only strengthened my convictions. It seems even clearer to me now that the ability to write will become a niche subject, similar to that of Latin, which will be pursued by fewer and fewer students until it disappears from the curriculum altogether. The comparison to Latin is intentional, as Latin was once the language used for all abstract reasoning (Walter Ong, in Orality and Literacy: The Technologizing of the Word, even goes so far as to say that the field of modern science may not have arisen without the use of Learned Latin, which was written but never spoken). In the same way, a written essay will come to be seen as a former standard of argumentation and extended analysis. Read more »

Israel and Poetic Spleen

by Ada Bronowski

The state of Israel is on the brink of deliquescence. A corrupt multi-indicted prime minister has handed the reins of government to extremist (read: blood-thirsty) right-wing (read: populist imperialist) religious (read: obscurantist) coalition parties whose alliance is based on a net refusal to heed the Israeli Supreme Court and a pact to instil a theocratic regime where there has been, since the state’s creation in 1948, a democracy. Both these goals are to be achieved by changing the law, giving parliament (the Israeli knesset) the right to dictate the terms of justice to the courts of justice. It is a situation the philosopher Plato had staged at the start of his Republic, back in the 4th century BC.

“What is justice?”, ask the half dozen citizens of then democratic Athens whom Plato reassembles at the start of his fictitious dialogue, written some sixty years after democracy fell in Athens and Socrates had been put to death. Amongst the cast of real-live people from then (Socrates of course, Plato’s own brothers and other public figures of the time), a Peter Thiel figure, called Thrasymachus (smart, amoral, with self-confidence oozing from his fingernails) hijacks the discussion to state his seemingly irrefutable answer: “justice is what the strongest party says it is”. The whole of Plato’s Republic (nine out of its ten books) is an attempt to counter this statement, a challenge directed at Socrates, tasked with proving that it is not so; that justice is in fact independent of any parties or any single individual. It turns out to be a more complicated challenge to meet than it would have seemed at first blush. For justice to be accepted as independent from the people in power, allowing for the possibility that justice even be detrimental to them, a whole rethink of society is required. The place where this rebalanced society lives is the republic, a place which…does not exist. Read more »

NYC Public School Boards: New Home of the GOP’s Far-Right Agenda?

by Tamuira Reid

School Boards across the country have become radicalized, energized, weaponized. They have become the new political battleground where extremist right-wing ideologues test the political waters. The plan is to infiltrate the schools, use them as the megaphone to broadcast the GOP’s agenda, with lots of soapboxing and grandstanding thrown in.

Last week, The City news dropped a bomb of a piece, “City Education Council Elections Bring Polarizing National Issues to Local School Districts”, exposing local educational advocacy organization, PLACE NYC’s history of endorsing GOP candidates and racists (George Santos and Lee Zeldin, for instance). Yet, for those of us familiar with PLACE’s history via our relationship with public schools as parents, the reporting didn’t read even close to a hit piece; many of us found it to be gentle-handed, forgiving, kinda vanilla.

What did seem to take the public school old-timers crowd by surprise was that PLACE is far from the only ‘educational advocacy organization of its kind to sprout wings across the country. They are just one of a growing coalition of parent-led organizations who are hellbent on the idea of parental control over our public schools, including everyone and everything inside of them. This national “Parental Rights Movement” – driven by self-proclaimed groups of “mama bears”, of which Moms4Liberty is the star – isn’t about elevating the needs of all students, but controlling exactly how and exactly what they are taught. It’s about banning books and censoring curricula that dare discuss race and gender. It’s about vilifying teachers’ unions and Dr. Fauci and anything with the word “equity” in it. It’s about the privatization of a public good. Our schools are being infiltrated by “mama bears” who are dead-set on gutting the public school system from the inside out. And they’ve got friends. Read more »

How ought we think about ought thoughts?

by Mike O’Brien

Kristin Andrews

I have followed the work of York University’s Kristin Andrews for a few years. I even had the good fortune of meeting her in person twice in Montreal, once where she was attending a conference on animal cognition at UQAM, and again when she presented some of her research to philosophy students at Concordia University. Her main area of study, animal cognition and behaviour, happens to be my own chief concern (a plurality winner among a million disparate interests, rather than commanding the majority of my attention). Her approach to moral questions about animals (such as their status as moral patients, or the value of their cultural practices) is refreshingly bottom-up, drawing on the results of field research and structured experiments to understand what sort of creatures animals actually are.

I say “refreshingly” because I have also read a lot of “top-down” animal ethics, which often starts with abstract notions like “rights” or “dignity” and then tries to extend these notions from humans to other animals, often justifying this extension by egalitarian or precautionary principles. I believe these top-down arguments can be useful because they use language and conceptual schemes that already have traction in law, but I am in my heart of hearts an inquirer first, and a moral advocate second. I am hopeful that an effective, but empirically incorrect and logically flawed, advocacy for animal protection can co-exist with a disinterested investigation into animals’ capacities and lives.

It is entirely possible that some scientific findings will prove inconvenient to advocates of animal rights and welfare protection. For instance, if we discovered robust evidence that some animals did not share our subjectively negative experience of pain, despite sharing many associated physiological responses, it would cast doubt on a wider range of animals whose suffering seems evident but is not yet conclusively proven. It would be better, from an advocacy standpoint, to presume harm in all cases and not get bogged down in case-by-case distinctions. It would be better still if the evidence vindicated that position, of course. If only the West’s dominant religious tradition taught us to be gracious rather than merely just in our care for others, then we wouldn’t need to wait for proof of harm before we started treating vulnerable beings nicely. (It does). Read more »

Sunday, April 30, 2023

Jennifer Egan and Terese Svoboda on Ghosts, Genre, and ‘Dog on Fire’

Jennifer Egan at The Millions:

Terese Svoboda has been a powerhouse of literary production in recent years, publishing five books since 2018, and partaking of a formidable array of genres and approaches. Dog on Fire is structured as an oppositional narrative duet between two bereaved women—the sister and lover of a young man who struggled with epilepsy—who remember and imagine his life and speculate about his unexplained death. The brief novel also touches on ghosts, aliens, and the possibility of foul play, all testament to Svoboda’s inventive eclecticism. Svoboda was kind enough to answer a few of my questions about Dog on Fire and her wide-ranging writing career.

More here.

The Computer Scientist Peering Inside AI’s Black Boxes

Allison Parshall in Quanta:

Machine learning models are incredibly powerful tools. They extract deeply hidden patterns in large data sets that our limited human brains can’t parse. These complex algorithms, then, need to be incomprehensible “black boxes,” because a model that we could crack open and understand would be useless. Right?

That’s all wrong, at least according to Cynthia Rudin, who studies interpretable machine learning at Duke University. She’s spent much of her career pushing for transparent but still accurate models to replace the black boxes favored by her field.

The stakes are high. These opaque models are becoming more common in situations where their decisions have real consequences, like the decision to biopsy a potential tumor, grant bail or approve a loan application. Today, at least 581 AI models involved in medical decisions have received authorization from the Food and Drug Administration. Nearly 400 of them are aimed at helping radiologists detect abnormalities in medical imaging, like malignant tumors or signs of a stroke.

More here.

The Best Spy Movie Ever Isn’t James Bond — It’s This

Matthew Mosley in Collider:

Has anyone exerted as much influence over the spy genre as Ian Fleming? Examples of espionage fiction may have predated his transition from naval officer to novelist by well over a century, but it wasn’t until the appearance of the British Secret Service’s finest asset, James Bond, that it became a cultural phenomenon (a feeling strengthened by the character’s legendary reinvention as one of cinema’s greatest icons from 1962’s Dr. No onwards). The success of the 007 franchise was a watershed moment for the genre, establishing a framework that everything released since has either deliberately aped or purposefully avoided. Seventy years on, the formula has lost none of its appeal… but it has contributed to the false impression of what being a spy is actually like. Of course, Ian Fleming knew exactly what he was doing when he put entertainment on a higher pedestal than realism, but it should be obvious that life in the Secret Service isn’t laden with shootouts and car chases. Being a spy is not glamorous – if anything, it’s rather mundane – but it also has the potential to be a lonely and disheartening profession where innumerable lives are lost for negligible results. It’s this feeling at the heart of the 1969 masterpiece, Army of Shadows.

More here.

What Socrates’ ‘know nothing’ wisdom can teach a polarized America

J. W. Traphagan and John J. Kaag in The Conversation:

A common complaint in America today is that politics and even society as a whole are broken. Critics point out endless lists of what should be fixed: the complexity of the tax code, or immigration reform, or the inefficiency of government.

But each dilemma usually comes down to polarized deadlock between two competing visions and everyone’s conviction that theirs is the right one. Perhaps this white-knuckled insistence on being right is the root cause of the societal fissure – why everything seems so irreparably wrong.

As religion and philosophy scholars, we would argue that our apparent national impasse points to a lack of “epistemic humility,” or intellectual humility – that is, an inability to acknowledge, empathize with and ultimately compromise with opinions and perspectives different from one’s own. In other words, Americans have stopped listening.

So why is intellectual humility in such scarce supply?

More here.