postaweek – Page 12 – Renaissance Guy

Revisiting the Future

A little less than three years ago I was on a seven day cruise on the Disney Fantasy. It was New Year’s Eve, and our ship had just passed into the Bermuda Triangle. The live show that evening featured the tribulations of a trio of teenagers coming to grips with the fact that they could no longer reasonably claim to be mere children, and would soon have to enter the dreaded “real world”. It struck a chord with me, even though I was still a couple years younger than the protagonists, and graduation seemed far off. Still, it was the first time that graduation, and the world beyond it, truly struck me a genuine, personally relevant concern.

Despite little of immediate, lasting consequence occurring on that particular cruise, I have nonetheless come to consider it something of a turning point in my life. About this same time, it began to become undeniably apparent to all interested parties that the school’s strategy towards my disability of masterly inactivity would most likely not be sufficient to assure my timely graduation. At the same time, I began to solidify my own doubts that the school administration would prove capable of overcoming its bureaucratic inertia. In short, it became clear that following the “normal” path would not end with my triumphant graduation and ascension to the most prestigious colleges with a full scholarship, etcetera, etcetera, as I had previously planned.

Shortly after we returned home, I began to receive fliers from various academic institutions. I chuckled at this, feeling appropriately flattered that they would deign to waste the cost of postage on one such as myself, yet nevertheless regarding their outreach as premature, and not of genuine concern. After all, with the delays which the school had made in processing various transfer credits from my online classes, it was suddenly unclear what my graduating year ought to be listed as. How could I give serious consideration to such far-off problems when I could not even confirm my graduating date?

My eighteenth birthday, which I had previously imagined would mark the milestone of my victorious conquest over public education, and the commencement of my proud campaign into the “real world”, was spent, like so many other days of my life thus far, in a hospital bed, struggling for survival. Although I knew that such an occasion ought to merit some manner of recognition and self reflection, given my circumstances, I was too preoccupied with the difficult task of evading imminent death to give much thought to the future. I promised myself, as indeed my parents promised me, that once I had recovered, and these temporary troubles with my schoolwork had been dealt with once and for all, that we would have a grand celebration for my birthday. Nothing came of this promise; indeed, I have not had a proper birthday party with a guest list and presents since.

The last day of my fourth year of high school was bittersweet, to put it mildly. On the one hand, summer meant a welcome reprieve from the daily stress of regular classes (by this point, most of my actual academic progress was being accomplished at home with the assistance of a tutor, and this would not change), and a temporary truce between myself and the administrators who, during the school year, sought to harass me daily over my apparent lack of progress. On the other hand, it was the last day I would see any of the friends I had made in school. They, unlike myself, had been able to keep their heads down, and stick to the normal path. They had graduated. All of them were college bound, and excited about it. Despite my efforts to be empathetic, I could not bring myself to subject myself to attending the graduation ceremony that I could not participate in.

Shorty before that day, I had resigned myself to the fact that I was going to remain in high school for an indeterminate period. Neither I nor the administration could come up with an estimate for my completion, owing to missing or misplaced records on their part. Guesses ranged from three months to four years. With no new data, and a history of disappointment, I gave up on guessing. With no graduation date, I could not make plans for college. With no plans, I had nothing to look forward to. Working mainly from home rather than subjecting myself to the degradation of school, the days and weeks began to meld together. With no real future to look forward to, I gave up on the future altogether.

This may sound like a purgatorial dystopia. And indeed, it was. I joked about this much with my friends over text messages. Yet I would be remiss if I didn’t last say that it was also quite liberating. With no change from day to day, I could stop worrying about anything beyond the present moment. After all, I had total job security. There was always plenty of schoolwork to ensure that I never had energy to make use of any free time I might have. There was no petty social drama; no conflict of any kind. So long as I had no expectations, I could never be disappointed. It was a dystopia alright, and a perfectly executed one at that.

Yet, within the last two weeks, something has changed. Last week, my special education case manager contacted me regarding some manner of questionnaire meant for outgoing seniors. My natural response was and remains to ignore it. If it is important enough, they will get it to me another way, and if it isn’t, I’ve just saved myself a great deal of effort. Still, this bears relevance if for no other reason then because it is the first time which they have recognized me as a senior, and on track to graduate. The same week, I received a mass email from the guidance department (where they got my address in order to spam me remains a mystery) regarding generic scholarship offers. Suddenly, it seems, my tranquil little dystopia is under siege from the “real world”.

After years of doing my utmost to avoid imagining a future outside of a weather forecast, I am suddenly being made to explain my life plans. A younger, pre-cruise version of myself would be excited. Things are back on track. Things are getting back to normal. Except, things can never go quite back to normal. Trying to relive past fantasies is a fool’s errand, and trying to navigate the coming future by the plans a different me made many years ago, or by whatever cookie-cutter claptrap the administration may find in their self-righteous self-help books, will only end with me facing the same problems as now five years from now.

Imagining a realistic future which is completely independent from both the administration and my own childhood fantasies is both difficult and daunting. Indeed, given the nature of my disabilities, and the apparent track record of my forecasting abilities, it begs the question whether a future plan which extends beyond my next quarterly hospital visit is even knowable in any meaningful capacity. Given that I cannot say with any absolute confidence that I will even still be alive in five years, does it really make sense to speculate on what a life for me might look like?

Coincidentally, on that same cruise which seems simultaneously so recent and so distant from me, I saw for the first time the filmic adaptation of “Into the Woods”. While I shall endeavor to avoid spoilers, suffice it to say that the theme of planning for the future, and having said plans go awry does come up. Indeed, one of the songs, arguably my favorite of the lot, focuses on the dilemma faced by one of the protagonists when pressed into a snap decision which has the potential to radically affect her entire future. The conclusion she reaches is to avoid the dichotomy altogether, and to keep her options open rather than back herself into a corner. It turns out to be the correct decision, as both alternatives collapse in the long run. This is interesting advice, which I think I shall endeavor to apply to my own like situation.

So, what can I say about my future? Well, I can say that even though I may not be absolutely confident in a specific graduation date, that I will most likely graduate from public school in the next year or so. I can say that I would like to continue my education and attend university, even if I do not yet know where and precisely how I will make attendance work, or how I will be able to apply given the problems with my transcript. I can say that I intend to travel and learn about other places, people, and cultures, as traveling and learning have had an undeniably positive impact on my life thus far. I can say that I intend to continue to write and speak about my experiences.

But perhaps most importantly, I can say that my path will not be the “normal” one, and as such, it is perfectly acceptable to not have every detail planned out. Just as I can learn without a grade, and have a positive role without having a neatly defined career, so too can I have a future without having a plan.

Facing Failure

I am in a particularly gloomy, dare I say, depressed, mood upon the eve of my writing this. Owing to the impending blizzard, United Nations Headquarters has been closed, and subsequently the events which I was to attend for the Women’s Empowerment Principles have been “postponed indefinitely”. The news reached me only minutes before I was to board the train which would have taken me into the city, where I had arranged for a hotel room overnight so as to avoid to having to travel during a blizzard.

This left me with an urgent choice: I could board the train, and spend a day trapped in a frozen city that was actively trying to dissuade people from traveling, or I could cut my losses, eat the cost of the hotel room, and return home to ride out the storm there. It probably surprises few that I chose the latter option; the option touted as the more sensible, strategically conservative, objectively correct option. Still, making this choice left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. It leaves me feeling as though I have failed.

I do not like failure.

Actually, that statement is inaccurate, or at least, misleading. I don’t merely dislike failure, in the same way that I dislike, say, sunscreen. No, I hate failure, in every sense of the word. I loathe it, detest it, and yes, I fear it.

This is not to say that I have such strong feelings toward losses. I feel this is an important distinction. Though I do have an adversity to unnecessary losses, sometimes, such sacrifices are necessary. What I hate is trying, making sacrifices, and then failing despite, or even worse, because of those efforts. The important distinction, at least in my mind, is that losses are a strategic principle, and a passing phenomenon, while failure is a state of being, whether for a few moments surrounding a particular exercise, or for a lifetime.

As one might expect, this makes me, in general, rather risk averse. Of course, this itself presents a paradox. Not taking a given risk also entails the inverse risk contained in the opportunity cost. That is to say, by not taking a given bet, you are effectively betting against it. This means that refusing to accept risks is always inherently itself a risk. So, for example, one cannot accept a zero percent chance of food poisoning without not eating altogether; and if one were to attempt to do so, they would quickly find themselves confronted by the more urgent problem of starvation.

The blizzard that closed the UN put me in a no-win situation. As a rational person, I can accept this, and act to cut my losses. Either I canceled my trip, resigned myself to staying at home, and ate the cost of my hotel reservations, or I purchased my train ticket, defied government instructions to stay home and avoid travel, put myself in danger, and spent the day trapped in a hotel room. I understand rationally why I chose as I did, and rationally, maintain that I made the correct decision. Yet I cannot escape the feeling that in choosing to abort my plans, I have failed my objective. Even if there was nothing to gain by getting on the train, I cannot suppress the feeling that my conscious choice invited some moral failing.

Some cursory research suggests that this particular feeling is not unique to myself, nor is it a new field of philosophical musings. Humans feel more emotional and moral responsibility for acts which are consciously undertaken than for merely following existing plans. This feeling is so prevalent it carries legal weight; binding contracts cannot be made by failing to decline an agreement; they require active assent. This might explain why I feel particularly upset with myself; If I had made no choice, then any perceived failure could only be an act of God, and out of my control. By making a conscious decision to cut my losses, I made that result a personal consequence, at least to my subconscious mind.

This leaves me at something of an impasse. I know why I am upset, yet can do little to console myself except to distract and reassure the nagging elements of my unconscious mind that I made the correct decision. I am left in conflict with myself, and left acutely aware of the fickleness of my own mind. While I suppose that this state of affairs is strictly preferable to feeling upset and not understanding why at all, I still cannot bring myself to feel in any meaningful way confident about myself in the present tense, particularly as these most recent reactions would seem to indicate that I might not be the single-mindedly rational being that I like to pretend that I am.

As I have indicated previously, I have very little intrinsic self confidence, at least in the manner which most people seem to expect that I ought. For whatever reason, I cannot seem to raise such self-evident feelings of self worth, and therefore, when I project such feelings, it is borne not of some internal passion, but extrinsic, statistical calculation. I base my self-assessment not on my own feelings, nor on others’ opinions, but on data and milestones. And though I feel that this generally gives me a better handle on the limits of my abilities, it also means that when I put my mind to a particular objective, and yet still fail for whatever reason, it becomes not only a momentary setback, but a point of evidence against my worth as a human being.

This can, and historically has, resulted in a mental loop whereby a temporary failure, such as a meeting which I had my aspirations set upon being cancelled by a snowstorm, leads to a general hardening of outlook, which in turn causes me to shift to the back foot, acting more conservatively, and taking fewer risky opportunities. Consequently, I wind up having fewer major victories to celebrate and reassure myself, and am instead left to reflect upon all of the opportunities which I missed. Because I was led to skip these choices by seemingly rational means, I cannot regret individual choices, but rather categorize them as mere symptoms of a general moral failing. These reflections promote further self-doubt, further strategic conservatism, and so on.

So, what can I do about it?

With the help of family and friends, I have come to realize that this is a viscous cycle that represents many of the worst and most self-destructive aspects of my personality and manner of thought. Of course, recognizing this fact consciously is the easy part. Hindsight is perfect, after all. The hard part is determining how to counter this cycle.

Historically my solution to such problems has been to throw myself into work, especially school work. This serves a dual purpose. First, if I am working hard enough, I do not have the time nor the energy to stew over my situation in more general terms. Second, it gives me a sense that I am accomplishing something. From primary through early high school, this approach has generally worked.

However, more recently, as the school has continued to demonstrate its gross incompetence in accommodating my physical disabilities, and as they have become increasingly distraught over the fact that my disability has not healed itself by magic, it has apparently occurred to the school administration that the correct way to inspire me to overcome medical impossibilities is to continually evoke shame each time my medical issues cause me to miss a deadline. Exactly what they aim to accomplish through this pestering continues to elude me. But in any case, this state of affairs means that greater effort on my part is more often scolded than rewarded. For, it seems, every time I attempt to reach out for clarification and assistance, I am subjected to a lecture on “personal responsibility”.

Because the school administration is apparently so “forward thinking”, and therefore does not believe in disability whatsoever, I am told that the fault for my failures is not, cannot, lie in my disability, but only in my personal moral failings. I am told by special education professionals that if I were truly dedicated to my academic performance, that my chronic diseases ought not have any impact on my life whatsoever. My promises that I will do my utmost given what I have to work with fall on deaf ears, because, allegedly, if I were to truly do my utmost, I would already be done on my own.

Needless to say, this experience is extremely stressful, and only deepens my sense of failure, self-hatred and anxiety. It should surprise no one that I am not terribly productive under such conditions, which only exacerbates the problem. Thus it comes to pass that throwing myself into schoolwork and attempting to prove myself wrong; to prove that I can indeed overcome opposition and be successful, only leads to more evidence that I am a failure.

I have looked, and am still looking, into various strategies to deal with this cycle moving forward. One strategy has been to write, and to post here. Another has been to give myself permission to engage in short “micro-vacations” as I call them, or “sanity-breaks” as my doctors refer to them. These short periods can last anywhere from a few hours to a few days depending on the severity of my initial state, particularly as they tend to coincide with when I am most physically fatigued*, but the important part is that they remain constrained to a specific time instead of drawing out into a general malaise. During this time, I temporarily do away with all pretense of productivity, and allow myself to engage in whatever petty amusement strikes my fancy.

*Sidenote: the overlap between physiological issues and mental symptoms is a recurring theme, making meaningful treatment for both all the more challenging. After all, is it really paranoia if your statistical chances of dying are vastly increased? The consensus thus far is that it isn’t. This is the reason why, despite having all of the symptoms, I do not technically qualify for any mental health diagnosis; because in my case, the source is obvious and completely justified.

In this respect, the fact that the same blizzard which set me on this spiral also shut down most everything in the vicinity comprises a silver lining of sorts. Obviously, there is no magic bullet for irrational feelings of failure. But perhaps that is beside the point. Perhaps the point of overcoming this feeling is not to wind up standing triumphantly atop the pile of slain emotions, but to reach a peaceful stalemate. I do not necessarily need to feel good about the fact that I could not accomplish my goals; merely be able to accept it without it destroying myself. Perhaps it might be enough to be able to calmly analyze and discuss my thoughts in writing, without necessarily having to reach a decisive conclusion.

Open Letter: Betsy DeVos

Today at school there was an informational session regarding the policies of the new department of education, and a letter-writing session to the new secretary of education. Unfortunately, in a bitter and illuminating irony, I was prevented from attending and participating owing to a flare-up of my disability. I have therefore resolved to make my point via online open letter.

Madam Secretary,

If I am completely honest, I hold reservations that you are qualified to hold your current post. Your lack of experience with public schools at all is disturbing; and your characterization of education as an industry rather than the duty of the government in protecting the inalienable right of the citizens in accordance with both international law and domestic precedent, is alarming.

With that said, I shall invite you to prove me wrong. I remain open to the possibility that I have underestimated your abilities and convictions, and those of your cabinet colleagues. In particular, your short-lived, halfhearted attempt to prevent the rollback of existing protections for transgender students is quite heartening, despite its failure. However, I should have to inform you that merely paying lip service to the idea of equal protection is not nearly enough, particularly for one who has sworn an oath to uphold it.

Because I do not expect much in the way of expanded services from your office, the main point of your tenure will be to ensure that existing protections for minorities and those such as myself with disabilities are enforced. Your job is to stand up for those who cannot stand for themselves. This is an enormous responsibility, and one that is arguably more critical to the continuing function of our democratic society than the jobs of your other colleagues.

I will hasten to point out, since the papers have brought it to my attention, that the primary motivation for your backing down during the standoff over transgender protections owed to your job security, that your position is most likely more secure than you may be led to believe. Yours is a senate-confirmed position. You, who were evidently the most qualified candidate the president could muster, only barely made it through senate approval. I do not expect the same senators would take kindly to you being asked to resign over adhering to your legally-mandated duty. I urge you to point out this matter to your colleagues the next time you feel pressured to compromise on principles.

In closing, I urge you, Madam Secretary, to prove me wrong; to demonstrate that you are qualified to uphold your constitutional and legal obligations. Prove that you are willing to put moral principles before money and politics. Give me reason to believe, as you put it during your confirmation hearings, that you “fully embrace equality [and] believe in the innate value of every single human being, and that all students, no matter their age, should be able to attend a school and feel safe and be free from discrimination.” Prove that you will stand by your words and enforce the civil rights legislation that ensures that our society can yet function.

Sincerely,
The Renaissance Guy
Registered independent voter, Blogger, and Student

Nailing the Colors

“Throw your soldiers into positions whence there is no escape, and they will prefer death to flight” – Sun Tzu, The Art of War.

Pardon the French

I often find that the hardest part of traveling for me is making the actual decision to commit to traveling. I mean, actually getting places is hard too, doubly so if I have to go through some kind of screening, seeing as how my medical devices, being both electronic and attached to me, set off alarms at every checkpoint, but over the years I’ve grown used to this.

The hardest part of traveling is determining whether this particular event is worth putting my metaphorical money where my mouth is. Not because money, or even travel time, are acutely scarce in my case, but rather because travel, especially in my case, requires a great deal of planning, and entails a considerable health risk.

The trouble with galavanting across the globe lies in the basic physiological fact that my body, unlike most, is not medically self sufficient. Simple sustenance is not enough for me to stave off death; I require a constant and complex life support regime to travel with me, with replacement and backup parts. Certain aspects of this baggage must be refrigerated, all of it requires special hazmat disposal, and from time to time, I still need to cease my activities in order to plug my cyborg components into a wall socket.

In addition to all of this routine hassle, I also must remain vigilant about the very real possibility of a more acute crisis. With increased activity and exposure to heretofore unknown pathogens comes an increased risk of medical catastrophe. And being far from my home and those doctors that are most familiar with my unique conditions amplifies the likelihood that, if something does go wrong, it will become critical.

I am a person who tends to overthink. I like to have the complete information before making a decision, and I like to take my time in doing so. When faced with uncertainty, I am broadly inclined to hedge my bets. A lifetime of chronic illness has taught me great appreciation for the value of playing one’s cards conservatively. This is, after all, the nature of medicine. Err on the side of caution. Prevent rather than cure. Rest, recuperate, and live to fight another day.

Yet this mindset is rather incongruous with modern travel. Traveling requires visas, reservations, tickets, invitations, and scheduling, all of which require commitment. One has to be able and willing to certify that they will be in a certain place on a certain day for a certain purpose, regardless of whatever extenuating circumstances may crop up between now and then. There is no option on airline bookings, or hotel reservations, to say “Yes, I will be there on February 24th with two other guests, unless of course one of us has a major health crisis or somesuch calamity.” Rather, it is “I will be there on February 24th with precisely two others, damn the torpedoes.”

This oversight seems to stem from the mistaken assumption that I have control over my life inasmuch as scheduling is concerned. That perhaps I was dealt a poor hand to begin with, but now that I have, it is solely my power to determine how I play my hand. This is absolutely not the case. I have no more control over the timing of my health problems than the average American does over the use of the US nuclear arsenal in an international crisis. That is to say, I can make my wishes known to the powers that be, and I can, on occasion, take indirect action to influence the overall outcome, but on the whole, my role is purely reactive.

In truth, I think this is part of what is so exhilarating to me about travel. Even in something as mundane as traveling across the state to visit friends, I am taking a gamble. I am nailing my colors to the mast, and committing to an offensive battle instead of waiting for my illness to strike first, and for me to react. Each one of these battles carries the distinct risk that it may be my last, and so I must choose my battles carefully.

With this in mind, I have decided to commit to making an appearance at NerdCon: Nerdfighteria in Boston this weekend. I plan to make myself identifiable with an oversized button of the compass-and-pencil seal. If my recently acquired and as yet untested means of button production work as envisioned, I will have some quantity of such buttons to distribute. In other words, come and say hi!

Strike!

Update: Scroll to the bottom of the post for the latest.

This blog ~~is currently participating~~ successfully participated in the nationwide general strike in protest of the United States government’s actions against refugees and immigrants. Access to our archives ~~has been~~ was temporarily suspended and has since been restored.

We do not apologize for this inconvenience.

All complaints should be directed to the United States government.

Update:

The day is over, and access to our archives has been restored. The Day Without Immigrants strike made headlines nationwide, and shut down a good portion of my local area. It is heartening to see people participating in collective action in meatspace in addition to online action.

Perhpas surprisingly, the hit counter actually reached a record since launch over the past 24 hours. I’m not quite sure what to make of this. We received a great deal of positive feedback during this time, which is much appreciated.

The biggest complaint of this strike, aside from those disagreeing with the cause, and the idea of collective action in general, was that it was poorly organized, poorly publicized, and done on short notice. In a sense, this is good news. It demonstrated the ability for quick reaction, and provides feedback for future action; most notably, the planned general strike for International Women’s Day on March 8th.

There have been talks of further strike action on Friday and continuing into the weekend. I applaud this effort, although I fear that attempting to extend this largely spontaneous effort will overtax the limited economic resources and political will of those who are perhaps sympathetic, but not necessarily committed enough to risk their livelihoods. Better in this case, I believe, to play the long game.

One more thing; amid all the demonstrations and media coverage, the super-PAC behind the presidential administrations quietly released a “Media Accountability Survey”. The questions are, of course, horribly biased, and it seems reasonable to assume that this will result in an accordingly biased result. Therefore, there has been an effort by some social media circles to spread publicity of the survey to ensure that it receives a wide sample size. For those interested, the link is below.

https://action.donaldjtrump.com/mainstream-media-accountability-survey/

Statistically Significant

Having my own website (something I can only now scarcely say without adding exclamation points,) has unlocked a great deal of new tools to explore. Specifically, having an operational content platform has given me access to statistics on who is reading what, who is clicking on given buttons, and where people are coming here from. It is enthralling, and terribly addictive.

Here are some initial conclusions from the statistics page:

1) There is a weak positive correlation between the days I release new content and the days we get more views. This correlation is enhanced if we stretch the definition of “day” to include proceeding twenty-four hours, rather than the remainder of the calendar day on which the content was released. This suggests that there may, in fact, be people actually reading what I write here. How exciting!

2) Most visitors register as originating from the United States. However, the script which tracks where our referrals come from paints a far more diverse picture. This could be a bug in the monitoring software, or people accessing the site from overseas could be using proxies to hide their identities.

3) The viewership of this blog is becoming larger and more international as a function of time.

4) More referrals currently come from personal one-on-one sharing (Facebook, web forums, shared links) than stumble-upon searches.

5) Constantly interrupting one’s routine to check website statistics will quickly drive on stark raving mad, as well as suck time away from writing.

These are interesting insights, and worthy of understanding for future posts. Of course, the immediate follow-up question is: What do I do with this data? How do I leverage it into more views, more engagement, and more shares? How do I convert these insights into money of fame or prestige? The idea seems to be that if a thing is being shared, there has to be some value coming back for the sharer aside from simply contributing to public discourse.

While I will not deny that I would enjoy having money, fame, and prestige, as of now, these are not my primary goals in maintaining this blog. If I do decide, as has been suggested, to follow the route of the professional sharer, soliciting donations and selling merchandise, it would not be in pursuit of Gatsbyesque money and status, but merely so that writing and not starving may not be mutually exclusive.

It is still strange to me that I have a platform. That, in the strictest sense, my writing here is a competitor of Netflix, JK Rowling, and YouTube. I am a creator. I am a website owner. I have a tendency to think of those aforementioned entities as being on a plane unto themselves, untouchable by mere mortals (or muggles, as the case may be) such as myself. And in business terms, there is some truth to this. But in terms of defining the meaning of “artist”, “creator” and “writer” in the twenty-first century, I am already on the same side of the line as them.

I suppose the heart of the matter is that, setting aside that those entities actually have professional salaries, there is no intrinsic difference between either of us. They have platforms, and I have a platform. They have an audience with certain demographics, as do I. They receive value from the distribution of their work, and I do for mine (albeit in different forms and on different orders of magnitude).

Growing up, I had this notion that adulthood conferred with it some sort of intrinsic superiority borne of moral and cognitive righteousness, and conferred upon each and every human upon reaching adulthood. I believed that the wealthy and famous had this same distinction one step above everyone else, and that those in positions of legal authority had this same distinction above all. Most of the authority figures in my life encouraged this mindset, as it legitimized their directions and orders to me.

The hardest part of growing up for me has been realizing that this mindset simply isn’t true; that adulthood is not a summary promotion by divine right, and that now that I too am a nominal adult, that no one else can truly claim to have an inherently better understanding of the world. Different minds of differing intellectual bents can come to differing conclusions, but people in power are not inherently right merely because they are in power.

I am not a better or worse human being merely because I happen to have the passwords and payment details to this domain, any more than Elon Musk is an inherently better human for having founded Tesla and Space-X. Yes, the two of us had resources, skills, and motivation to begin both of our projects, but this is as much a coincidental confluence of circumstances as a reflection on any actual prowess. Nor are we better people because we have our respective audiences.

In this day an age, there is much talk of division of people into categories. There are the creators and the consumers. The insiders and the outsiders. The elite and the commoners. The “world of success” as we have been taught to think about it, is a self-contained, closed-loop, open only to those who are worthy, and those of us who aren’t destined to be a part of it must inevitably yield to those who are. Except this plainly isn’t true. I’m not special because I have a blog, or even because I have an audience large enough to draw demographic information. There is nothing inherent that separates me from the average man, and nothing that separates both of us from those at the very top. To claim otherwise is not only dangerous to the idea of a democratic, free-market society, but is frankly a very childish way to look at the world.

You Have The Right To An Education

I am not sold on the going assumption seemingly embraced by the new US presidential administration which characterizes education as an industry, at least, not in the sense that the United States government has traditionally approached other industries. While I can appreciate that there may be a great deal which market competition can improve in the field, I feel it is dangerous to categorize education as merely an economic service rather than an essential civil service and government duty. Because if it is an industry, then it ceases to be a government duty.
The idea that education is a human right is not new, nor is it particularly contentious as human rights go. Article 26 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights reads in part as follows:

Everyone has the right to education. Education shall be free […] Technical and professional education shall be made generally available and higher education shall be equally accessible […] Education shall be directed to the full development of the human personality and to the strengthening of respect for human rights and fundamental freedoms. It shall promote understanding, tolerance and friendship among all nations, racial or religious groups, and shall further the activities of the United Nations for the maintenance of peace.

The United States lobbied strongly for the adoption and promotion of this declaration, and for many years touted it as one of the great distinctions which separated the “free world” from the Soviet Union and its allies. Americans were proud that their country could uphold the promise of free education. The United States remains bound to these promises under international law, but more importantly, is bound by the promise to its own citizens.

Of course, there are other, more nationalist grounds for opposing the erosion of the government’s responsibility to its citizens in this regard. Within the United States, it has long been established that, upon arrest, in order for due process to be observed, that a certain exchange must take place between the accused and the authorities. This exchange, known as the Miranda Warning, is well-documented in American crime shows.

The ubiquity of the Miranda Warning is not merely a coincidental procedure, but is in fact an enforced safeguard designed to protect the constitutional rights of the accused. Established in 1966 in the US Supreme Court Case Miranda vs. Arizona, the actual wording is less important than the notion that the accused must be made aware, and must indicate their understanding of, their constitutional rights regarding due process. Failure to do so, even for the most trivial of offenses, is a failure of the government to uphold those rights, and can constitute grounds for a mistrial.

The decision, then, establishes an important premise: Citizens who are not educated about their rights cannot reliably exercise them, and this failure of education represents sufficient legal grounds as to permit reasonable doubt on the execution of justice. It also establishes that this education is the duty of the government, and that a failure here represents an existential failure of that government. It follows, then, that the government and the government alone holds a duty to ensure that each citizen is at least so educated as to reasonably ensure that they can reliably exercise their constitutional rights.

What then, should we make about talk of turning education into a free-for-all “industry”? Can the government still claim that it is fulfilling its constitutional obligations if it is outsourcing them to third parties? Can that government still claim to be of and by the people if it’s essential functions are being overseen and administered by publicly unaccountable individuals? And what happens when one of these organizations fails to educate its students to a reasonable standard? Can the government be held accountable for the subsequent miscarriage of justice if the necessary measures to prevent it were undertaken in such a convolutedly outsourced manner as to make direct culpability meaningless?

As usual, I don’t know the answer, although I fear at our present rate, we may need to look at a newer, more comprehensive Miranda Warning.

Discovery, Ho!

I like the feeling of discovery. Being able to create new things is awesome, but it’s also great to find new things that other people have made. I enjoy the sense of exploration in learning about new phenomena and places. This joy of discovery is the main reason I love learning in general. Even when, for example, in the field of history, there is very little “new” to be discovered, there is still the possibility of unearthing a novel correlation or interpretation that can challenge the way we understand the world around us.

This week, my attention has fallen on the online scavenger hunt being arranged by John Green of Vlogbrothers (and many other things). The actual experience is very spoiler-heavy, and so I will do my best to avoid giving too much away for anyone who is interested on following through. The place to start is the Vlogbrothers YouTube channel. As of writing, the latest two of John’s videos (but not Hank’s, who allegedly, is just as clueless as the rest of us) are a part of the puzzle. There are plenty of hints in the comments section, but be warned, there are also spoilers.

The project is early enough that it’s not entirely clear what the endgame is here. There is much speculation, and circumstantial evidence to support it, that this whole charade is a build up to the release of a new book. Others have suggested that this is a fun side project to bring the community (known affectionately as “Nerdfighters”) closer together.

What is apparent so far is that the main nerve center appears to act as a sort of “virtual speakeasy” for dedicated followers, with the answers to the weekly riddles serving as passwords. This is a neat idea for a community as large as Nerdfighteria, as it acts as an effective barrier to spammers, trolls, and complete outsiders, while not being exclusionary to those who are genuinely interested.

Of course, debates over “spoiling” the passwords for others, particularly in the YouTube comments of the videos where the riddles are provided, have already sprung up, with strong arguments both for and against making it easier for others to find and gain access. Riddles have been criticized for being too region-specific. Current members are already looking to the future with dread as more and more Nerdfighters crack the puzzle and start pouring in.

More than anything, however, is a sense of excitement. Some are merely excited to have cracked the puzzles. Others are excited for the possible release of a new book, or else to determine where the remaining riddles, and the ongoing series of cryptic hints by John and his co-conspirators, lead. Still others, such as myself, are merely excited to be present. To take part in this massive story, wherever it leads, and to share it with like-minded community members.

The atmosphere is reminiscent of that of yesteryear’s NerdCon: Stories, arranged and attended by much the same group. Recounting that experience on this blog has been on my list, and given these new developments, will likely be moved up in my priorities. Suffice it to say, however, that the feeling is good, if somewhat strange. There are plenty of casual obscure references which I do not understand, and plenty more that I do. It is clear that, even this early, there is a solid sense of community, something which I find welcome and refreshing with all the talk of being divided going on in the world.

I do not know what will come next in this project. But I am excited to find out. In the meantime, Don’t Forget To Be Awesome.

Keeping Promises

I have just been informed of a setback to one of the research programs which I have had my eye on as a possible answer to my disability. The setback is not a natural discovery of some scientific obstacle, but rather a political hurdle put in place by the new American presidential administration.

A researcher who had been tapped to work in the United States on curing several deadly disease, including tuberculosis, rheumatoid arthritis, and Type 1 Diabetes, was denied boarding in Frankfurt on the grounds that she was an Iranian national [1][2].

What ever happened to “a big, fat beautiful door right in the middle of the wall” for the “good people” who “have recommendations from people”? This is, after all, the alleged basis for the new executive orders [3]. The researcher in question held a doctorate from the École Polytechnique Fédérale de Lausanne, and was slated to work at Harvard on the personal recommendation of Dr. Soumya Raychaudhuri. Does this not sound like a good person wth recommendations?

This isn’t a question of how to process those who have come to the US illegally. This is someone whose visa was approved, who had even traveled to the US previously [1][2]. This is about America keeping its promises. Because if the United States government decides it can get away with breaking its word whenever it feels like it, how are foreign governments supposed to trust that the US will uphold its end of the bargain when, say, negotiating trade deals, or even security treaties? How are foreign leaders supposed to trust our dealmaker in chief when he decides to renegotiate all of current treaties? This is already in the minds of our European allies, who see this kind of promise-breaking as a destabilizing move [4].

Moreover, if the US government decides it can break its own rules when dealing with foreigners, what is to stop it from deciding it has to keep its promises to its own citizens? We don’t have to imagine an answer, because the State Department has already given us one, saying the dual citizens will be subject to the ban [5].

That is to say that American citizens who are of certain ancestry will not be permitted reentry to the country. This is, frankly, horrifying, and, perhaps ironically, makes me glad I have a second passport. Although I do not plan to leave the country over this latest debacle, I can now say with confidence which I would pick if forced to choose.

Works consulted:

1) Kliff, Sarah. ““But I have a valid visa:” An Iranian researcher barred from flying to US for new job.” Vox 28 Jan. 2017: n. pag. Web.

2) Gans, Felicia. “‘I told him I do have a valid visa, but he told me that it doesn’t matter.’.” Boston Globe. N.p., 29 Jan. 2017. Web. 29 Jan. 2017.
https://www.bostonglobe.com/metro/2017/01/28/told-him-have-valid-visa-but-told-that-doesn-matter/yttREc10s5cc7yjX3d48hJ/story.html

3) Johnson, Kevin R. “Trump’s ‘Big, Beautiful Door’ Is a Big, Beautiful Step in the Right Direction.” Time. N.p., 29 Oct. 2015. Web. 29 Jan. 2017. <http://time.com/4092571/republican-debate-immigration/>.

4) Smale, Alison. “European Leaders Reject Trump’s Refugee Ban as Violating Principle.” The New York Times. N.p., 29 Jan. 2017. Web. 29 Jan. 2017. <https://www.nytimes.com/2017/01/29/world/europe/trump-executive-order-europe-merkel.html?_r=0>.

5) Jordan, Miriam, Ian Lovett, and Alejandro Lazo. “Donald Trump’s Immigration Order Sparks Confusion, Despair at Airports.” The Wall Street Journal. N.p., 29 Jan. 2017. Web. 29 Jan. 2017. <http://www.wsj.com/articles/donald-trumps-immigration-order-sparks-confusion-despair-at-airports-1485709114>.

Sovereignty Revisited

How do you define a nation? How do you define a state? Does a nation necessitate a state, and vice versa?

The answer to the final question is most likely the simplest of the lot to answer. The existence of such governments-in-exile during World War II, as the Free French government, the Belgian and Dutch governments in London and Canada, and related, prove that a state can exist without distinctly sovereign territory or citizens to govern. Relatedly, the claims of states are not inherently mutually exclusive. The Republic of Korea and the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (South and North Korea, respectively), both claim full sovereignty of the entire peninsula. During the Cold War, both the German Democratic Republic and the Federal Republic of Germany claimed to be the sole German nation, claiming all of German territory, and its citizens. This point became important during reunification, as it meant that former East German citizens were automatically entitled to western social services.

But perhaps the most fascinating study is the case of the two Chinas – that is, the People’s Republic of China and the Republic of China. Unlike previous examples, this particular division is not the result of joint Soviet/American occupation, but rather the direct result of the end of the Chinese Civil War. The Republic of China, better known to westerners as Taiwan, maintains its claim over the entire Chinese mainland and, critically, claims to be the legitimate successor to China’s millennia of history. This is particularly interesting, as it helps provide an answer to the first question.

A nation, therefore, has as its basic characteristics, a geographic area, a citizenry, and a distinct historical identity. Yet, while a nation may encompass a specific geographical area, it will be seen that a nation need not be restricted to a single sovereign state. Like the case of the two Germanies, the two Chinas, and the governments in exile, a single nation can quite easily have multiple states and governments, even when said states are at odds or even at war.

Of course, this is not news. In Europe, the notion of Europe as a single nation that merely happens to have multiple states is well ingrained, if not universally applauded, with many states going so far as to functionally abolish borders. In the Middle East, the formerly-popular Ba’ath ideology supports the notion of a pan-Arab state. Pan-Africanism remains a strong political force in Africa. The United States of America was originally intended to support this idea, acting as an open federation of American states.

With such historical context, it seems difficult to believe that a nation cannot exist without closed borders. Few will contend that Germany is not a “real” nation because it dismantled the death strips on its borders. Fewer still will maintain that the state of New York has destroyed its economy by allowing open borders and free trade with its neighbor, New Jersey. Yet some still continue to insist that a nation cannot be a nation without fortified borders and rigid immigration restrictions.

To be clear, there are plenty of legitimate reasons for maintaining border security. There are reasons why a state may wish to prevent illegal immigration. But national sovereignty is not among them.

For reference, here is the US-Canada border in Alaska. It’s worth noting here for the record that more illegal immigrants come through this border than the US-Mexico one. And yet, there is no talk of building a wall.

And here is the monument just beside the checkpoint, celebrating the fact that we as a nation do not require fortified borders to feel secure.

The monument calls the friendship between the US and Canada, and the resulting open borders, “a lesson of peace to all nations”. The new administration would do well to remember this lesson.