Renaissance Guy (Mobile)

Operation Endrun

I find myself with very little to say these days. Not because I don’t have anything to say, but because I don’t have the time or energy to put it in order. This is a recurring problem for me, particularly of late. Of course, a lot of it is because I’ve been kept on the back foot for a few weeks in a row now. Over the course of the last three weeks I’ve seemingly fallen prey to Murphy’s Law, with things piling up and compounding. I haven’t slept well, I’ve been having trouble thinking straight, and while I’ve avoided missing any particularly egregious deadlines in my classes, I feel more like I’ve been treading water than swimming forward.

Amid all of this, I missed putting up a post last week without noticing. I was actually pretty sure I had done something. In fact, if you’d asked me at the end of last week whether I posted anything, I would have been fairly sure I had already done that. I probably would have bet money on it. And I would’ve been wrong. This isn’t the first or only thing I’ve lost track of in the last few weeks, but it is arguably the biggest; or perhaps better stated, one of the things more resistant to forgetting that I nevertheless forgot.

This is bad. Distraction and confusion on this level is dangerous. This time around it was a missing a post that didn’t go up. Next time it might be a school assignment, which would be bad. Worst case scenario, I might space out and forget about my life support routine. I don’t think it would kill me, but that’s the kind of risk I try very hard not to take. Whatever is causing this fugue, whether that’s a lack of sleep, too much slacking an procrastinating, or not enough productive projects to focus on, needs to be brought under control. People with my condition don’t have the luxury of being distracted. I know this.

Of course, saying something is bad and doing something to solve it are very different. And it’s difficult to turn my life upside down in order to find and eliminate the source of a problem while also going ahead with schoolwork and other plans. So, what’s the plan?

Well, first I need to get ahead in my schoolwork. The plan here is twofold: first, to make sure I’m covered for traveling next weekend. Second, getting ahead will give me the breathing room I need to begin the next set of endeavors. This kind of planning would’ve been impossible in high school, because my teachers were never so organized as to provide expectation ahead of time of what I needed to do, which I think was partially responsible for the tendency for things to snowball. College, however, has proven far easier to navigate, with important items being listed on syllabi well in advance. Consequently, it is possible for me to make plans that include completing work ahead of time.

Second, I need to get my sleep schedule under control. This is a pain, because the only way I have found to reliably enforce a sleep schedule is to wake up early, and force myself out of bed, so that by the time night falls, I feel exhausted enough to fall asleep. This is always a miserable process, because, as I have mentioned previously, I am not a morning person. Waking up early is physically painful to me. I have designed most of my current life around the premise of never needing to wake up before 11am. This will be a sacrifice. But it is necessary.

Third, I need to get up and around more. Winter often has the effect of causing me to spend most of my days inside and sitting down, since I don’t tolerate the cold well enough to go for walks. This, I suspect, is bad for concentration, and it certainly weakens my stamina over time-something I can scarcely afford to lose.

Will I actually accomplish these things? Dunno. But by writing them down and posting them, I’m more likely to try.

Fully Automated Luxury Disk Jockeys

Here’s an interesting observation with regards to automation- with the exception of purely atmospheric concerns, we have basically automated the disk jockey, that is, the DJ, out of a job. Pandora’s music genome project, Google’s music bots, Apple’s Genius playlists, and whatever system Spotify uses, are close enough for most everyday purposes.

Case in point- my university got it in their heads that students were becoming overwhelmed with finals. This is obviously not a major revelation, but student stress has become something of a moral and political hot issue of late. The purported reason for this is the alarmingly high rate of suicides among college students- something which other universities have started to act on. Canada, for instance, has added more school breaks throughout the year during the weeks when suicide rates peak. Other schools have taken more pragmatic measures, like installing suicide nets under tall bridges.

Of course, the unspoken reason for this sudden focus on mental health is because the national political administration has made school shootings a matter of mental health prevention, rather than, say, making guns harder to get. My university, like my hometown, lies in the shadow of Newtown, and plenty of students here lost people firsthand. Most of us went to schools that went on lockdown that day. The university itself has had two false alarms, and police teams clad in armor and machine guns already patrol the campus regularly. So naturally, the university is throwing money at mental health initiatives.

Rather than do something novel, like staggering exam schedules, routine audits to prevent teachers from creating too much work for students, or even abolishing final exams altogether as has been occasionally proposed, the powers that be settled on the “Stress Free Finals Week” Initiative, whereby the school adds more events to the exam week schedule. I’m not sure how adding more social events to a time when students are already pressed to cram is supposed to help, but it’s what they did.

As a commuter and part time student, most of this happens on the periphery for me. But when, through a series of events, I wound up on campus without anything to do nor a ride home, I decided I may as well drop by. After all, they were allegedly offering free snacks if I could find the location, and being a college student, even though I had just gorged myself on holiday cookies and donuts at the Social Sciences Department Holiday Party, I was already slightly peckish. They were also advertising music.

I got there to find the mid-afternoon equivalent of a continental breakfast- chips, popcorn, donuts, and cookies. Perhaps I had expected, what with all the research on the gut-brain connection, that an event purporting to focus on mental health would have a better selection. But no matter. There was a place to sit away from the sleet outside, and free snacks. The advertised DJ was up front blasting music of questionable taste at a borderline objectionable volume, which is to say, normal for a college campus.

Except the DJ wasn’t actually playing the music. He didn’t interact with any of the equipment on the table during the time I watched, and on several occasions he surrendered any pretense of actually working by leaving the table to raid the snacks, and then sat down at another table to eat while the music handled itself. No one else seemed to think this strange, but it struck me to think that for all I know, he might have just set up a YouTube Music playlist and let the thing run, and earned money for it. Heck, he wouldn’t even have to select the playlist manually- bots can do that part too.

There are two takeaway observations here. The first is that computer automation is happening here and now, and the first wave of that automation is hitting now. I feel it worth noting that this isn’t just manual labor being made obsolete by mechanized muscle. While it might not exactly be white collar, a modern DJ is a thinking job. Sure, it doesn’t take a genius to hit shuffle on iTunes, but actually selecting songs that match a mood and atmosphere for a given event, following up with an appropriate song, and knowing to match the differing volumes on recordings with the desired speaker volume takes at least some level of heuristic thinking. We’ve made it fairly low-hanging fruit for bots in the way we label songs by genre already, but the fact we’re already here should be worrying for people that are worried about automation-driven mass unemployment.

The second takeaway is a sort of caveat to the first, namely; even if this guy’s job was automated, he still got paid. An argument can be made that this is a function of bureaucratic inefficiency and an enterprising fellow playing the system in order to get paid to be lazy. And while this would be a fair observation, there’s another interpretation that I think is yet more interesting. Because the way I see it, it’s not like the university misunderstood what they were buying. They advertised having a DJ. They could have found any idiot to hook up an iPhone speaker and press shuffle, but instead they hired someone.

There was a cartoon a while back that supposed that in the future, rather than automation causing a total revolution in man’s relationship with work, that we would simple start to put more value into more obscure and esoteric commodities. The example provided was a computer running on “artisanal bits” – that is, a Turing-complete setup of humans holding up signs for ones and zeroes. The implication is that increasing wealth inequality will drive more artificial distinctions in patterns of consumption. Rich people become pickier the richer they get, and since they’re rich, they can drive demand for more niche products to provide work for the masses.

This hypothesis would fit with current observations. Not only would it explain why institutions are still willing to hire human DJs in the age of music bots, but it would explain why trends like organic foods, fair trade textiles, and so on seem to be gaining economic ground. It’s an interesting counter argument to the notion that we’re shaping up for mass unemployment.

I still think this is a horribly optimistic outlook. After all, if the owning minority can’t be bothered to pay living wages in the process of making their wealth in the first place, why would they feel a need to employ a substantial number of people after the fact? There’s also a fundamental limit on how much a single person can consume*, and the number of people who can be gainfully employed in service of a single person’s whims has a functional limit, after which employment stops being accurately described as work, and is more like private welfare. Which makes this not so much a repudiation of the problem of the problem of automation induced mass unemployment, as another possible solution. Still, it’s a thing to keep in mind, and for me, a good reminder to pay attention to what’s actually happening around me as well as what models and experts say should happen.

*Technically, this isn’t true. A person with infinite money could easily spend infinite money by purchasing items for which the prices are artificially inflated through imposed scarcity, speculative bubbles, and other economic buzzwords. But these reflect peculiarities in the market, and not the number of people involved in their production, or the quality of their work.

In Accordance With the Shutdown

In accordance with the partial shutdown of the US Federal Government, this blog has activated its contingency protocol to ensure compliance with the Antideficiency Act. Consequently, in order to maximize available resources and meet all of our ongoing mission requirements, the remainder of this post will include only prime-numbered words from a normal post.

Lately there has talk our something “Orwellian”. Accurate, interest public mind, examine original. That, “Theory Collectivism”, purpose writing. Library: Irreconcilable. Remain are. Trade with. Low, abiding intermittently daily, abolish distinctions, shall equal. History, same outlines again. Capacity govern. Overthrown the, enlist liberty. Objective, thrust servitude, cycle.

Low never. Softening revolution equality millimeter. Historic masters. Nineteenth, obvious observers. Cyclical, equality unalterable human. Doctrine adherents, change: hierarchical high. Aristocrats upon, compensation. Fraternity. Tyranny overthrown. […]

Oligarchies, circumstances. Practitioners, cheating. Knowledge delusion; rational. World-conquest fanaticism. Unexampled, the contradictions. Mystique paraphernalia.

Resolutions for 2019

Per tradition, here are the three main items I’ve settled on as my publicly-declared 2019 New Year’s Resolutions.

1. Get a Haircut

Some variation of this has made its way onto my list for the past four years or so, even if I haven’t always included it when I publish my goals. This is partly tongue in cheek- a little joke to remind myself that it’s not life or death if not everything goes to plan. But aside from the fact that I do, in fact, need a haircut in the near future, putting some low-hanging fruit on my list helps remind me that I’m serious about getting these things done. There is also an important theme of self-care here. It’s funny, because you’d think for the inordinate amount of time, thought, and energy I put into my health and keeping me alive, that I’d be better at making sure I shave, brush my teeth, and avoid sitting in the same place and staring at a screen until my eyes burn. But actually, no, I’m pretty bad at that stuff, because next to the things I need to do to stay alive, everything else seems like a very distant second. So I need to remind myself from time to time that there’s more to being healthy than just the things that keep me alive.

2. Find a regular activity, or set of activities

It turns out, having very little experience with actually having free time, I often find myself at a loss when there’s nothin bearing down on me. Consequently, I need to find a better thing to do than just pace around like an idle villager in age of empires when my work is completed. I haven’t decided what exactly that will shape out to be. I have no shortages of projects that I put on pause when I started classes, but I don’t know whether any of them are suited to my purpose. I’d also like to draw up some notion of how much time is an appropriate amount of time to spend on video games, because while I think playing games is a good way to kick back and pass time, without any sort of yardstick, I find myself playing perhaps more than I would think wise if I were actually planning my time. This sounds like a separate resolution, but it’s actually the same thing- I want to come up with a set of activities and a balance that lets me have multiple vectors of outputs without pouring everything I’ve got on a given day into one particular item.

3. Stop procrastinating on correspondence

This has been a vice of mine since basically the first time I got an email. I have a tendency to postpone responding to things, often without a good reason, until the deadline for whatever it was passes. I know I’m sabotaging myself, and I don’t enjoy procrastinating, because some part of me is still agonizing about the thing. What makes this habit slightly more difficult to kick is the fact that there are genuinely circumstances when it’s better that I postpone responding to things. When I’m sick, for instance, I often don’t respond rationally or properly to people, and I’ve gotten myself in trouble this way more than once. So I need to find a balance between jumping the gun and shooting myself in the foot. I’ve gotten better at this, but not good enough yet.

Re-examining my 2018

I find myself these last few days at something of a loss. I am in a situation of being enrolled in classes, but having nothing to do. It’s not that I merely have some leeway before my next deadline, I actually have nothing to do because I am caught up. Unlike the only instances of free time in recent memory, this time it isn’t because I lack direction, or have been compelled to take time off because of health concerns. I am exactly more or less where I am supposed to be, and I have nothing to do. And I’m not sure how to handle it.

This is a good microcosm of a recurring theme of the past year, or at least the past six months. Feelings of being out of place or off balance have mixed in with an occasional dash of pride or accomplishment when it has been clear that I am the only one who knows the answer. I won’t say that college classes have been easy, because there have been challenging moments, and I’ve had to stretch myself to make sure I finish everything that needs to be turned in despite my disabilities. But for as much as I’ve spent the last several months waiting in anticipation for the other shoe to drop, for the sword to fall, and for the administrators and professors to turn out to be as bad as high school, or worse, things have gone better than I might have feared.

I’m hesitant to look a gift horse in the mouth here. But I strive to be above all self aware. And moreover, as I am formulating a new batch of resolution snow for the new year, it is only proper that I conduct an in depth reflection on what has worked, what hasn’t, and how to improve it. So, here goes.

Workload

The fact that I’m in this situation of being finished at the end of the semester, and reasonably confident that my grades will be good without knowing the final calculation, but at the same time have been mostly busy for the semester suggests that my workload is probably in the right ballpark. There were a few times when I was sick or busy, and it was a tossup whether I would make it to class or finish the homework, but I made it through. So this is probably roughly where the balance lies between coasting and jeopardizing my health.

I’m a little frustrated at this, because while the workload was about where I could handle it, intellectually there were times when I felt bored. I don’t know whether that’s a function of the classes being introductory level, or of my classmates being some combination of uninterested, unmotivated, shy, or stupid. But when I’m single-handedly answering a supermajority of questions asked by the professor to the room, because no one else raises their hand, and when called upon can’t give a correct answer even by reading from the book, something isn’t right. I can’t afford to overwork myself, but I would like to be challenged.

This is probably my hamartia; the fatal flaw in my tragic heroism. I have the intellectual capacity to require a high degree of challenge to satisfy me, but my physical handicaps prevent me from successfully executing the challenge to the satisfaction of myself or others. This far, I have been unable to find a balance. I can either be complacent, treating everything like and idle game and phoning it in, or I can seek things that interest me, creating more work for myself than I can handle.

But perhaps I’m overdramatizing. Perhaps too shall pass, and I shall find such a balance, and unleash my full potential. Perhaps it is a simple matter of allowing myself to gain more experience and wisdom.

Activities

I wouldn’t say that my first semester of college has been unstructured, because I have been unusually organized for me. I managed to get all my assignments turned in, after all, which I don’t know has ever happened for an entire semester in my life. So yeah, I’ve been organized. Or at least, organized enough. But in saying that, I realize that my “being organized” has come about, less like a calm, orderly, elegant rule of law, and more like an oppressive, hectic, martial law.

This isn’t really a surprise to me. Since I’ve been chronically ill, which has been a long time, work happens when I’m able, and rest happens when I’m unable, whenever those happen to fall. This sounds like a horrible system for the long run, and believe me it is, but, well… you try explaining to an angry teacher that your paper is going to be a day later, because you haven’t had an hour of free time in months, when they already don’t believe that you were actually sick all of last week, or that you would still be too sick to be allowed in school if you hadn’t been mixing steroids with over the counter fever suppressants.

And I’ve grown okay with that. If I’m excited to tackle a project, in pursuit of a topic I’m interested in, I’m okay making some sacrifices. I can live with martial law if I know and support what I’m fighting for. But I think I can do better than this. I think I can get to something a little less like the academic war footing I’ve been on, and a little more, well, human. I’d like to be able to have a better answer when I’m asked what I do in my free time than “I don’t have free time; or at least, it’s so infrequent that it doesn’t merit a designated activity.” Being a cyborg is fine if it keeps me alive, but I’d rather not be seen as robotic.

I don’t know whether I could really manage to make a splash in a proper club with a regular meeting schedule, as both my parents, and the assortment of professionals the university pays to advise me on how to keep my head, would like. Organized schedules seem to be the antithesis of my health situation, and there were a few weeks last semester where I think having an extracurricular activity to get to in addition would’ve pushed me over the edge, and set back my health enough that I wouldn’t have completed classwork, and we know how that song goes.

Still, I need to find something to do. Because while my workload and commitments are mostly calibrated to be doable on my bad days, which is undoubtedly as they ought, it leaves a lot of free time when I get things done on time. Not enough or so consistently that I can feel comfortable to add more commitments, but enough that I find myself in need of some activities beyond mere distraction. This could be as simple as deciding I’m going to keep up the LEGO City better, or committing to a world conquest campaign on one of my video games.

Social Life

Well, good thing all of the areas of my life are going well. Nothing else to report. Best be wrapping up this post and putting it in the queue.
My social life? What do you mean? That’s not even a real thing. What am I supposed to reflect about it? It’s not like there are any problems there. After all, you can’t have problems in an area of life that doesn’t exist, right? Let’s be real, no one really cares as long as I get good grades.

Fine. But just so you know, it’s your fault this post is going to run long.

Look, I’ve never been popular. I’ve never had many friends (or at least, many close friends that are in my age group and live in the same geographic area). Part of this is that I’m a constantly over analyzing introvert, but a lot of it is because I’m constantly sick. Friendships are simply higher up Maslow’s hierarchy of needs than I usually get, and it’s hard to really stay close when you’re only well enough to be out in society a few times a month. You miss the little jokes and experiences that build and solidify friendships, and when you see people again, there’s an imbalance. You might feel you saw them fairly recently, because you saw them the last time you left the house, but in reality that was three weeks ago, and to them you haven’t been around for a while.

I’ve been told that rebuilding a social life (or depending on how you count, possibly building one for the first time) needs to be a priority in trying to equip myself for college. My inclination is to tell these people to clear off and get a life that doesn’t involve micromanaging mine. Why do you even care? It doesn’t matter. I’m fine. It’s fine. Everything is fine.

In reality, I’m not sure how to parse this problem, let alone solve it. As mentioned previously, I still lack the stamina to do much outside of classes. The notion of making friends with people during class, as has been occasionally suggested, strikes me as paradoxical. After all, how am I supposed to be casual with people when sitting at attention and taking notes? I can’t interrupt class to interact with my classmates, and bothering them in their free time without a pretense seems, at best improper, and a good way to make classes rather awkward.

Trying to puzzle out friendships always gives me the old feeling that I’m missing something- that some fact or piece of social intuition which is critical for being a modern social human has eluded me. When I make friends, it tends to be by accident, and I lack a sense of what is and isn’t proper for a given situation that seems to come intuitively to others. This causes huge uncertainty and anxiety about trying to arrange anything that would allow me to get to know people better. And since my health mean that I pretty much have to arrange social events on my own terms in order to avoid collapsing the house of cards of my health situation, this leaves me in a catch-22.

So my social life isn’t exactly glamorous. I’m not happy with this state of affairs, but I don’t see any ways to remedy it that aren’t going to cost me a great deal in areas that I’m currently aiming to prioritize. If it’s a choice between making friends and getting good grades, getting good grades so I can make progress towards being able to contribute back to society is going to win, hands down. If it’s a choice between making friends, and looking after my health so I can stay alive… well that’s not much of a choice, is it?

But if I can’t say I am happy, I can at least say that I am at peace, which is a marked improvement. I don’t want to jinx anything, but overall things seem to be lining up to work out so far. There are worse problems than getting easy As, and so long as I continue to be healthy and do well, there are plenty of side projects to amuse me.

Reflections on the Revolution

I’m enjoying being on break this week, so I’ve decided instead to post something I wrote but declined to publish roughly 2 years ago

I am presently writing from a well-worn park bench. It is not my favorite of the park benches, as that particular one is at such an angle relative to the setting sun that it is difficult to type. This is not a problem during the warmer months, when the trees’ leaves provide ample shade for work at all hours, but the trees are barren now, and so I am making due with an inferior bench for the purposes of this piece. Though annoying, this is an acceptable price to pay for a change of scenery and a breath of fresh air.

I spend a reasonable amount of time sitting on a bench at our local park. Our town being the stereotypical New England train village that it is, we have a charming little public park with picnic tables, a gazebo, and a small playground off of Main Street, just adjacent to the newly renovated library.

I don’t get out of the house nearly as much as I probably ought, but when I do I am immensely grateful to be able to find a place to sit down with my thoughts. I am particularly fond of our park. Though there are other benches, and indeed, other public spaces; there is, for example, a bench in front of our Town Hall, which has an arguably better view of the goings on of the town, none of these are truly community spaces in the same sense that the park is.

Our town is divided by several different churches and political organizations. Yet we all hold the park in common. It is the default rallying point for after school plans. It is the gathering place after holiday parades.

As far as aesthetics are concerned, there isn’t actually all that much to the park. There is some playground equipment off in one corner. There are some benches along the gravel paths, along with a spattering of rubbish bins and a few lampposts here and there. There is the gazebo, an old fountain that hasn’t worked since I arrived, and a small platform that is occasionally used as a stage. But other than that, it is basically just open space. This may make it sound as though I don’t appreciate the park because there are not activities hard-built into its design. On the contrary; that fact that it is an open possibility space is part of what makes it so vital to community life.

On my way into the park, I passed several banners being flown on Main Street from churches, shops, and houses applauding the pluralism and inclusiveness of our town, and many posters attached to utility poles denouncing the actions of the new political administration. While I have my own thoughts on the nature of inclusiveness in our town which lead me to believe that these people may be overestimating the exact degree of integration in our decidedly upper-crust neighborhood, seeing this display of solidarity and, if nothing else, lip service, to the idea of equality was quite heartening. Seeing these images of resistance to the new political administration being plastered on and around historical landmarks which date back to the founding of this country lead me to reflect, naturally, on the American Revolution.

One of the things which stuck with me having grown up in a formerly British, now commonwealth, country as an American expatriate was that the events which led to the formation of the United States were consistently referred to not as a revolution, but as “the American Independence war”. At the time, I brushed this off as an effect of colonial rule. However, doing a bit of reading, I have discovered that this distinction reflects not political whitewashing (at least not solely), but rather, a new consensus in understanding and interpreting history.

The argument goes that the specific battles which comprised the campaign of independence were neither a new phenomenon, nor particularly unique in history. What made these battles relevant instead of just another backwater tax rebellion, was the organization of the rebel side. What made the American revolution truly revolutionary was not the fighting, but the organization of colonists into self-governing entities. It was not the audacity to take up arms, but rather, the audacity to put mere peasants on equal footing with kings and dukes in terms of the ability to self-govern, that defined the American revolution and its later national identity.

Historians have claimed that this distinction means that the actual revolution started well before the actual fighting, and that, from a historical perspective, the correspondence committees and town meetings of the 1760s and the early 1770s were more critical than the battles of the later 1770s and 1780s [1]. For rebellions and insurrections come and go. But a revolution which has taken root in the hearts and minds of the people is far more difficult to quash.

In light of this interpretation, it is easy to understand how the local park can be such an important institution; is is, after all, the foundation of all other democratic institutions in this country. It also underscores how important the banners and posters which are now appearing on churches, telephone polls, and outside houses could become. They are symptoms of organization. And while it is too early to say whether this wave of revolutionary activity will take root, if current trends continue, it is not unreasonable to expect that this could result in a movement akin to the Tea Party on the right wing.

Personally, I would welcome such change. Since I arrived in this country from having lived overseas, it has struck me that the political climate has been consistently right of center, particularly when compared to other democratic societies [2][3]. The result, naturally, is a narrower selection of possible policy solutions to current ills. Even for those who are ardent supporters of the current political administration, this situation is still undesirable, as this kind of partisan intransigence undercuts the United States’ ability to be innovative in its policy.

As I have previously explained, good-faith opposition is the life blood of a democratic society. So is citizens’ political engagement. The United States has suffered from a lack of both in recent years.

1) Taxes and Smuggling: Prelude to Revolution. Crash Course US History. YouTube, 07 Mar. 2013. Web. 20 Mar. 2017.

2) Gallup, Inc. “Wyoming Residents Most Conservative, D.C. Most Liberal.” Gallup.com. N.p., 31 Jan. 2014. Web. 19 Mar. 2017.

3) “The American-Western European Values Gap.” Pew Research Center’s Global Attitudes Project. N.p., 17 Nov. 2011. Web. 19 Mar. 2017.

Operation Treetopper

The last few weeks have been dominated by Operation Treetopper, my efforts to ensure that I close the year out successfully. Operation Treetopper started basically the moment that Operation Marketplace, my plan to avoid mid-semester complacency and ensure I was squared away when picking classes for next semester, ended. Operation Marketplace, in turn, followed Operation Overture, which covered the first few weeks of college classes. The point is that Treetopper has been a culmination of slightly more than seven months of effort and planning.

The two primary objectives of Operation Treetopper were my German final exam, and my Sociology final paper. The German exam was fairly straightforward. I do my best to avoid serious studying for tests, because at least in my experience, it tends to do me more harm than good. Instead, I focus on learning any material that I haven’t already learned, because even though I miraculously avoiding missing class, there were a handful of occasions when circumstances conspired to prevent me from learning the material, and I had to bluff my way through assignments.

Once that’s done, I make sure I know my German by putting on the top hits list for German speaking countries, and reading Der Spiegel, which translates as The Mirror, and is a major newspaper akin to the Times. I know that I’m making progress when I find the music distracting me from reading. I only ever find the music distracting when the words I’m hearing cross wires with words I’m reading or writing, so when the foreign songs cross that threshold, I know my brain has absorbed enough German that it considers them to be part of a language rather than just words. I don’t know if everyone’s brain works that way, or if it’s just mine, but this is how I pull off learning new languages without studying.
My sociology paper was another story entirely.

With retrospect, I can safely say that I overdid it for my sociology final paper. I mean that in both a positive and negative way. I picked a topic that I was really passionate about, which proved fertile for both research and commentary, and in the process created far more work for myself than was necessary or even prudent.

With the benefit of retrospect, and having gotten a few glimpses of what other classmates eventually settled on, there are things I would’ve done differently. Off the bat, I would’ve started earlier. I wouldn’t say I procrastinated, because I gave myself more time than I thought I’d need. Except, I severely underestimated the amount of time and effort this project would require, and the number of documents, pages, spreadsheets, tables, and graphs it would generate for me to juggle and cull down into a final paper.

Case in point: the assignment was to write four or five pages, and I assumed that I would have to fall back on my old authorial filibustering knack to fill space. In reality, I wound up barely butchering the final product down to five pages of writing, plus an additional eighteen pages of tables, graphs, data, and references that had to be put in an annex because I couldn’t fit them in the main paper, but needed them to make my point succinctly.
Also with the full benefit of hindsight, I would have been well served to take the professor up on his offer to meet and discuss refining and operationalizing topics for my survey. I didn’t do this because I thought my topic was already a sufficiently niche topic that it didn’t need refining. I was wrong about this, partly because, as previously mentioned, I vastly underestimated the length it would take to tackle my topic, but also partially because I expected that I would be working on well-trodden ground, scientifically, when in fact, near as I could tell from the literature review, my investigation proved to be fairly novel.

The other reason I didn’t want to refine my topic was because I was excited about it. I knew that I wanted to tackle medical identification and the factors going into adherence essentially since the moment I read the syllabus, and saw that we could do a survey for our paper. I knew it was topical to the course, and I knew that my background with the topic would enable me to write a paper that would earn me a good grade pretty much regardless of the details, but more than that, I wanted to tackle the topic. I was excited to use my newfound skills to tackle a real problem from my life that profoundly affects people I care about.

This is, at least for me, the point of education. It’s why I go to class, even when I don’t feel well, or have better things to do. I want to learn, so that I can fix the world. And in my experience, when an exciting topic like this appears fully-formed, those are usually the best projects. Because whether or not they wind up getting the best score, they make the work of an assignment fun, and they’re good opportunities to learn something.

Moreover, this enthusiasm shows in the end product. There’s sometimes a trade off if following the thing you’re interested in means bending the criteria of the assignment (see again: twenty-three pages instead of five), but I’ve always found this to be a worthwhile trade off it it means I can give my best effort on something I care about. And I think most teachers feel the same way.

I don’t regret my choice of topic. And understanding that I made them based on what I knew at the time, I don’t regret the decisions I made about my paper. My biggest, and really only, complaint with the end product, is that I overestimated how long five pages was, and had to cut down my writing when I quite would’ve enjoyed expounding further on the results.
Operation Treetopper has accomplished something that I wasn’t sure was possible- I have been able to declare victory for the end of the semester without any lingering make-up assignments, or uncertainty about whether I’m really done. It’s anticlimactic, and a little unreal to me. But it’s the best Christmas gift I could have wished for, and it gives me hope that next year can be even better.

A Lesson in Credulity

Last week I made a claim that, on review, might be untrue. This was bound to happen sooner or later. I do research these posts, but except for the posts where I actually include a bibliography, I’m not fact checking every statement I make.

One of the dangers of being smart, of being told that you’re smart, and of repeatedly getting good grades or otherwise being vindicated on matters of intelligence, is that it can lead to a sense of complacency. I’m usually right, I think to myself, and when I think I know a fact, it’s often true, so unless I have some reason to suspect I’m wrong, I don’t generally check. For example, take the statement: there are more people that voted for republicans in the last election living to the south of me than to the north.

I am almost certain this is true, even without checking. I would probably bet money on it. I live north of New York City, so there aren’t even that many people north of me, let alone republican voters. It’s objectively possible that I’m wrong. I might be missing some piece of information, like a large population of absentee Republicans in Canada, or the state of Alaska. Or I might simply be mistaken. Maybe the map I’m picturing in my head misrepresents how far north I am compared to other northern border states like North Dakota, Michigan, and Wisconsin. But I’m pretty sure I’m still right here, and until I started second guessing myself for the sake of argument, I would have confidently asserted that statement as fact, and even staked a sizable sum on it.

Last week I made the following claim: Plenty of studies in the medical field have exalted medical identification as a simple, cost-effective means of promoting patient safety.

I figured that this had to be true. After all, doctors recommend wearing medical identification almost universally. It’s one of those things, like brushing your teeth, or eating your vegetables that’s such common advice that we assume it to be proven truth. After all, if there wasn’t some compelling study to show it to be worthwhile, why would doctors continue to breath down the necks of patients? Why would patients themselves put up with it? Why would insurance companies, which are some of the most ruthlessly skeptical entities in existence, especially when it comes to paying for preventative measures, shell out for medical identification unless it was already demonstrated to be a good deal in the long run?

Turns out I may have overestimated science and economics here. Because in writing my paper, I searched for that definitive overarching study or meta analysis that conclusively proved that medical identification had a measurable positive impact. I searched broadly on google, and also through the EBSCO search engine, which my trusty research librarian told me was the best agglomeration of scientific and academic literature tuition can buy. I went through papers from NIH immunohematolgy researchers to the Army Medical Corps; from clinics in the Canadian high arctic to the developing regions of Southeast Asia. I read through translations of papers originally published in French and Chinese, in the most prestigious journals of their home countries. And I found no conclusive answers.

There was plenty of circumstantial evidence. Every paper I found supported the use of medical identification. Most papers I found were actually about other issues, and merely alluded to medical identification by describing how they used it in their own protocols. In most clinics, it’s now an automatic part of the checklist to refer newly diagnosed patients to wear medical identification; almost always through the MedicAlert Foundation.

The two papers I found that addressed the issue head on were a Canadian study about children wearing MedicAlert bracelets being bullied, and a paper in an emergency services journal about differing standards in medical identification. Both of these studies, though, seemed to skirt around the quantifiable efficacy of medical identification and were more interested in the tangential effects.

There was a third paper that dealt more directly as well, but there was something fishy about it. The title was “MedicAlert: Speaking for Patients When They Can’t”, and the language and graphics were suspiciously similar to the advertising used by the MedicAlert Foundation website. By the time I had gotten to this point, I was already running late with my paper. EBSCO listed the paper as “peer reviewed”, which my trusty research librarian said meant it was credible (or at least, credible enough), and it basically said exactly the things that I needed a source for, so I included it in my bibliography. But looking back, I’m worried that I’ve fallen into the Citogenesis trap, just this time with a private entity rather than Wikipedia.
The conspiracy theorist in me wants to jump to the conclusion that I’ve uncovered a massive ruse; that the MedicAlert Foundation has created and perpetuated a myth about the efficacy of their services, and the sheeple of the medical-industrial complex are unwitting collaborators. Something something database with our medical records something something hail hydra. This pretty blatantly fails Occam’s Razor, so I’m inclined to write it off. The most likely scenario here is that there is a study lying around that I simply missed in my search, and it’s so old and foundational that later research has just accepted it as common knowledge. Or maybe it was buried deep in the bibliographies of other papers I read, and I just missed it.

Still, the fact that I didn’t find this study when explicitly looking for it raises questions. Which leads me to the next most likely scenario: I have found a rare spot of massive oversight in the medical scientific community. After all, the idea that wearing medical identification is helpful in an emergency situation is common sense, bordering on self-evident. And there’s no shortage of anecdotes from paramedics and ER doctors that medical identification can help save lives. Even in the literature, while I can’t find an overview, there are several individual case studies. It’s not difficult to imagine that doctors have simply taken medical identification as a logical given, and gone ahead and implemented it into their protocols.

In that case, it would make sense that MedicAlert would jump on the bandwagon. If anything, having a single standard makes the process more rigorous. I’m a little skeptical that insurance companies just went along with it; it’s not like common sense has ever stopped them from penny-pinching before. But who knows, maybe this is the one time they took doctors at their word. Maybe, through some common consensus, this has just become a massive blind spot for research. After all, I only noticed it when I was looking into something tangential to it.
So where does this leave us? If the data is really out there somewhere, then the only problem is that I need a better search engine. If this is part of a blind spot, if the research has never been done and everyone has just accepted it as common sense, then it needs to be put in the queue for an overarching study. Not that I expect that such a study won’t find a correlation between wearing medical identification and better health outcomes. After all, it’s common sense. But we can do better than just acting on common sense and gut instincts. We have to do better if we want to advance as a species.

The other reason why we need to have hard, verifiable numbers with regards to efficacy, besides the possibility we might discover our assumptions were wrong, is to have a way to justify the trade off. My whole paper has been about trying to prove the trade off a person makes when deciding to wear medical identification, in terms of stigma, self perception, and comfort. We often brush this off as being immaterial. And maybe it is. Maybe, next to an overwhelming consensus of evidence showing a large and measurable positive impact on health outcomes, some minor discomfort wearing a bracelet for life is easily outweighed.

Then again, what if the positive impact is fairly minor? If the statistical difference amounts only to, let’s say, a few extra hours life expectancy, is that worth a lifetime of having everyone know that you’re disabled wherever you go? People I know would disagree on this matter. But until we can say definitively the medical impact on the one hand, we can’t justify it against the social impact on the other. We can’t have a real debate based on folk wisdom versus anecdotes.

On Hippocratic Oaths

I’ve been thinking about the Hippocratic Oath this week. This came up while wandering around campus during downtime, when I encountered a mural showing a group of nurses posing heroically, amid a collage of vaguely related items, between old timey nurse recruitment posters. In the background, the words of the Hippocratic Oath were typed behind the larger than life figures. I imagine they took cues from military posters that occasionally do similar things with oaths of enlistment.

I took special note of this, because strictly speaking, the Hippocratic Oath isn’t meant for nurses. It could arguably apply to paramedics or EMTs, since, epistemologically at least, a paramedic is a watered down doctor, the first ambulances being an extension of the military hospitals and hence under the aegis of surgeons and doctors rather than nurses. But that kind of pedantic argument not only ignores actual modern day training requirements, since in most jurisdictions the requirements for nurses are more stringent than EMTs and at least as stringent as paramedics, but shortchanges nurses, a group to whom I owe an enormous gratitude and for whom I hold an immense respect.

Besides which, whether or not the Hippocratic Oath – or rather, since the oath recorded by Hippocrates himself is recognized as being outdated, and has been almost universally superseded by more modern oaths – is necessarily binding to nurses, it is hard to argue that the basic principles aren’t applicable. Whether or not modern nurses have at their disposal the same curative tools as their doctorate-holding counterparts, they still play an enormous role in patient outcomes. In fact, by some scientific estimates, the quality of nursing staff may actually matter more than the actions undertaken by doctors.

Moreover, all of the ethical considerations still apply. Perhaps most obviously, respect for patients and patient confidentiality. After all, how politely the doctor treats you in their ten minutes of rounds isn’t going to outweigh your direct overseers for the rest of the day. And as far as confidentiality, whom are you more concerned about gossiping: the nerd who reads your charts and writes out your prescription, or the nurse who’s in your room, undressing you to inject the drugs into the subcutaneous tissue where the sun doesn’t shine?

So I don’t actually mind if nurses are taking the Hippocratic Oath, whether or not it historically applies. But that’s not why it’s been rattling around my mind the last week.

See, my final paper in sociology is approaching. Actually, it’s been approaching; at this point the paper is waiting impatiently at the door to be let in. My present thinking is that I will follow the suggestion laid down in the syllabus and create a survey for my paper. My current topic regards medical identification. Plenty of studies in the medical field have exalted medical identification as a simple, cost-effective means of promoting patient safety. But compelling people to wear something that identifies them as being part of a historically oppressed minority group has serious implications that I think are being overlooked when we treat people who refuse to wear medical identification in the same group as people who refuse to get vaccinated, or take prescribed medication.

What I want to find out in my survey is why people who don’t wear medical identification choose not to. But to really prove (or disprove, as the case may be, since a proper scientific approach demands that possibility) my point, I need to get at the sensitive matters at the heart of this issue: medical issues and minority status. This involves a lot of sensitive topics, and consequently gathering data on it means collecting potentially sensitive information.

This leaves me in an interesting position. The fact that I am doing this for a class at an accredited academic institution gives me credibility, if more-so with the lay public than among those who know enough about modern science to realize that I have no real earned credentials. But the point remains, if I posted online that I was conducting a survey for my institution, which falls within a stretched interpretation of the truth, I could probably get many people to disclose otherwise confidential information to me.

Since I have never taken an oath, and have essentially no oversight in the execution n if this survey, other than the bare minimum privacy safeguards required by the FCC in my use of the internet, which I can satisfy through a simple checkbox in the United States. If I were so inclined, I could take this information entrusted to me, and either sell it, or use it for personal gain. I couldn’t deliberately target individual subjects, more because that would be criminal harassment than because of any breach of trust. But I might be able to get away with posting it online and letting the internet wreak what havoc it will. This would be grossly unethical and bordering on illegal, but I could probably get away with it.

I would never do that, of course. Besides being wrong on so many different counts, including betraying the trust of my friends, my community, and my university, it would undermine trust in the academic and scientific communities, at a time where they have come under political attack by those who have a vested interest in discrediting truth. And as a person waiting on a breakthrough cure that will allow me to once again be a fully functional human being, I have a vested interest in supporting these institutions. But I could do it, without breaking any laws, or oaths.

Would an oath stop me? If, at the beginning of my sociology class, I had stood alongside my fellow students, with my hand on the Bible I received in scripture class, in which I have sought comfort and wisdom in dark hours, and swore an oath like the Hippocratic one or its modern equivalents to adhere to ethical best practices and keep to my responsibilities as a student and scientist, albeit of sociology rather than one of the more sciency sciences, would that stop me if I had already decided to sell out my friends?

I actually can’t say with confidence. I’m inclined to say it would, but this is coming from the version of me that wouldn’t do that anyway. The version of me that would cross that line is probably closer to my early-teenage self, whom my modern self has come to regard with a mixture of shame and contempt, who essentially believed that promises were made to be broken. I can’t say for sure what this version of myself would have done. He shared a lot of my respect for science and protocol, and there’s a chance he might’ve been really into the whole oath vibe. So it could’ve worked. On the other hand, it he thought he would’ve gained more than he had to lose, I can imagine how he would’ve justified it to himself.

Of course, the question of the Hippocratic oath isn’t really about the individual that takes it, so much as it is the society around it. It’s not even so much about how the society enforces oaths and punished oath-breakers. With the exception of perjury, we’ve kind of moved away from Greco-Roman style sacred blood oaths. Adultery and divorce, for instance, are both oath-breaking, but apart from the occasional tut-tut, as a society we’ve more or less just agreed to let it slide. Perhaps as a consequence of longer and more diverse lives, we don’t really care about oaths.

Perjury is another interesting case, though. Because contrary to the occasionally held belief, the crime of perjury isn’t actually affected by whether the lie in question is about some other crime. If you’re on the stand for another charge of which you’re innocent, and your alibi is being at Steak Shack, but you say you were at Veggie Villa, that’s exactly as much perjury as if you had been at the scene of the crime and lied about that. This is because witness testimony is treated legally as fact. The crime of perjury isn’t about trying to get out of being punished. It’s about the integrity of the system. That’s why there’s an oath, and why that oath is taken seriously.

The revival of the Hippocratic Oath as an essential part of the culture of medicine came after World War II, at least partially in response to the conclusion of the Nuremberg Trials and revelations about the holocaust. Particularly horrifying was how Nazi doctors had been involved in the process, both in the acute terms of unethical human experimentation, and in providing medical expertise to ensure that the apparatus of extermination was as efficient as possible. The Red Cross was particularly alarmed- here were people who had dedicated their lives to an understanding of the human condition, and had either sacrificed all sense of morality in the interest of satiating base curiosity, or had actively taken the tools of human progress to inflict destruction in service of an evil end.

Doctors were, and are, protected under the Geneva Convention. Despite Hollywood and video games, shooting a medic wearing medical symbol, even if they are coming off a landing craft towards your country, is a war crime. As a society, we give them enormous power, with the expectation that they will use that power and their knowledge and skills to help us. This isn’t just some set of privileges we give doctors because they’re smart, though; that trust is essential to their job. Doctors can’t perform surgery if they aren’t trusted with knives, and we can’t eradicate polio if no one is willing to be inoculated.

The first of the modern wave of revisions of the Hippocratic Oath to make it relevant and appropriate for today started with the Red Cross after World War II. The goal was twofold. First: establish trust in medical professionals by setting down a simple, overriding set of basic ethical principles that can be distilled down to a simple oath, so that it can be understood by everyone. Second: make this oath not only universal within the field, but culturally ubiquitous, so as to make it effectively self-enforcing.

It’s hard to say whether this gambit has worked. I’m not sure how you’d design a study to test it. But my gut feeling is that most people trust their own doctors, certainly more than, say, pharmacologists, meteorologists, or economists, at least partially because of the idea of the Hippocratic Oath. The general public understands that doctors are bound by an oath of ethical principles, and this creates trust. It also means that stories about individual incidents of malpractice or ethics breaches tend to be attributed to sole bad actors, rather than large scale conspiracies. After all, there was an oath, and they broke it; clearly it’s on that person, not the people that came up with the oath.

Other fields, of course, have their own ethical standards. And since, in most places, funding for experiments are contingent on approval from an ethics board, they’re reasonably well enforced. A rogue astrophysicist, for instance, would find themselves hard pressed to find the cash on their own to unleash their dark matter particle accelerator, or whatever, if they aren’t getting their funding to pay for electricity. This is arguably a more fail-safe model than the medical field, where with the exception of big, experimental projects, ethical reviews mostly happen after something goes wrong.

But if you ask people around the world to rate the trustworthiness of both physicians and astrophysicists, I’d wager a decent sum that more people will say they trust the medical doctor more. It’s not because the ethical review infrastructure keeps doctors better in check, it’s not because doctors are any better educated in their field, and it’s certainly not anything about the field itself that makes medicine more consistent or less error prone. It’s because medical doctors have an oath. And whether or not we treat oaths as a big deal these days, they make a clear and understandable line in the sand.

I don’t know whether other sciences need their own oath. In terms of reducing ethical ethical breaches, I doubt it will have a serious impact. But it might help with the public trust and relatability probables that the scientific community seems to be suffering. If there was an oath that made it apparent how the language of scientists, unlike pundits, is seldom speculative, but always couched in facts; how scientists almost never defend their work even when they believe in it, preferring to let the data speak for itself; and how the best scientists already hold themselves to an inhumanly rigid standard of ethics and impartiality in their work, I think it could go a ways towards improving appreciation of science, and our discourse as a whole.

Picture Postcard Perfect

The Holiday Stroll is my favorite event in town. Basically, the town where I live, which is at this point a suburb of the expanded New York City metropolitan area, pretends to be an independent village, so that the old money, Ivy League denizens can feel good about themselves living in a small town. This is a town with more millionaires per square mile than homeless. This is a town which, in the six years of my attendance, had exactly two African American students in a school of 4000. This is a town in which it is a routine occurrence for friends to invite each other to Paris for the weekend. After all, what good is a private jet if it just sits on the tarmac? This is a town where the beginning of the top tax bracket is considered poor.

Of course, not everyone who lives in town is wealthy. But regardless of the statistical breakdown, it is very much a wealthy town. Moreover, it is old money. Tom and Daisy Buchanan would fit right in here. The mansion they had in the most recent movie adaptation wouldn’t even be the most impressive of ostentatious house I’ve seen in town.

The town also isn’t without its problems. On the contrary, it has a noticeably higher rate of drug abuse than surrounding towns, despite a lower official crime and arrest rate. Alcohol abuse, especially among teens, is well known to be endemic, but never acknowledged aloud. The public high school continues to pay out millions in lawsuit settlements for discrimination against students, and rates of suicide are alarmingly high.

But these problems are well hidden. The streets are safe and well kept (at least the ones downtown are). Home prices and property values are kept high by refusing to allow rehabilitation clinics or public transport to sully our streets. Schools have exceedingly low dropout rates, and standardized test scores are consistently above average.

The town is really quite good at burying its problems and making everything seem peachy. With just over three hundred years of practice, the town is adept at playing the part of a sleepy New England village. In summer, rows of flags and bunting line the streets. In the fall, vivid foliage distracts the mind and spirit from myriad woes. In winter, the businesses on Main Street string up lights and garlands in order to create the setting of a Christmas special, or else replicate a model train village. So convincing is the transformation that the town is occasionally used as a setting for Christmas movies.

The highlight of all this decorating is the Holiday Stroll. Businesses stay open late, charitable groups host bake sales up and down the street, organizations give out free popcorn and cocoa. Ice carvers create vignettes around the shops with Holiday motifs. Choral groups roam the street singing carols, and people dress up in holiday garb, whether that be woolen sweaters and Santa hats, top hat and coattails, or over the top getups wrapped in tinsel garlands and battery powered lights. Policemen direct traffic to accommodate horse drawn carriages, while Santa takes wishes from children at town hall.

It’s a show that the whole town is in on. It’s beautiful and magical in a way that seems to be, momentarily, perfect. And you forget that this is a town where multiple people have been indicted by the FBI for financial crimes, where husbands commit suicide because they can’t provide the level of luxury expected by the local culture, and where the public schools have made civil rights lawsuit settlements the largest recurring expense in the budget, because they have come to the conclusion that paying off those who don’t fit the mould to attend private school somewhere else is preferable to reforming the system. It leaves me with a kind of Canto Bite feeling- I wish I could put my fist through this whole lousy, beautiful town.

I don’t know whether other towns without all of the baggage and what I am inclined to see as moral corruption have something similar to the Holiday Stroll. I hope so, because it means there’s hope for keeping what I like about my town while excising the bad parts. But I don’t know whether that’s possible. I know part of what gives the Holiday Stroll its peculiar magic is the sense of authenticity. Hallmark holiday specials choose our town as the location where handsome and rich protagonists must overcome upperclass upbringing to see the true meaning of Christmas and family for a reason. People wear fancy sweaters and top hats to drink fancy liquor served chilled through ice sculptures at the jewelry store’s open house because that’s what this town is.