the disappearance of place (2)

We celebrate the internet because it seems to connect us to a degree that we never could have imagined before: MySpace, Facebook, LinkedIn, YahooGroups, Ravelry, Second Life, not to mention the numerous message boards and special interest, dating websites and chatrooms--- all the various networks tying us to people we’ve never met and locations we’ve been never been to. But the internet only links us via the “space of flows”, and not through an integration of place. It connects us conveniently and without real risk or vulnerability—we can choose to hide behind screennames and profiles, and there is always the easy option to sign off, and sign back on again with a new username.

While I do believe there has been value from the internet, especially in the trading of information and ideas, and the outlet for communication and dialogue—I sincerely hope our “Second Lives” here do not become our First Lives—that we do not choose to play our games in our online networks at the expense of loving our neighbours, as Jesus has called us to do. (While we think we are in charge of technology, sometimes technology is taking charge of us…)

In physical communities we are forced to live with people who differ from us in many ways. But virtual communities offer us the opportunity to construct utopian collectivities- communities of interest, education, tastes, beliefs, and skills. In cyberspace we can remake the world out of an unsettled landscape.

~ Stephen Doheny Farina*

~

Likewise with the television, we run similar risks of trading in the reality of our neighbourhoods, for the abstractions of our easy, low-cost (and unfulfilling) entertainment:

The American house has been TV centered for three generations. It is the focus of family life, and the life of the house correspondingly turns inward, away from whatever occurs beyond its four walls. (TV rooms are called “family rooms” in builder’s lingo. A friend who is an architect explained to me: “People don’t want to admit that what the family does together is watch TV.”) At the same time, the television is the family’s chief connection with the outside world. The physical envelope of the house itself no longer connects their lives to the outside in any active way; rather, it seals them off from it. The outside world has become an abstraction filtered through television, just as the weather is an abstraction filtered through air conditioning.

~ James Howard Kuntsler,

~

Speaking of which, some random tidbits about television gleamed from Robert Putnam’s Bowling Alone:

- People who say they “Strongly agree” with the statement “Television is my primary form of entertainment” also have much higher incidences of giving the middle finger to another driver than those who say they “Strongly disagree” with that statement.
- Studies conducted on people’s moods throughout the day through different activities, discovered that people’s happiness/satisfaction in watching television was similar to that of doing laundry, cooking or other household chores.
- Nevertheless, researchers found it difficult to get people to give up television for their studies. One couple was paid $500 to give up TV for a month. The wife remarked “There was nothing to do. I talked with my husband” (paraphrase).

Sometimes I wonder: would I have turned out differently (a better, more knowledgeable person perhaps?) had I not watched my 1-4 hours of television a day growing up?

~

The Amish when asked about how they know which technological inventions to admit and which to refuse from Tay Keong Tan “Silence, Sacrifice and Shoo-fly Pies: An Inquiry in to the Social Capital and Organizational Strategies of the Amish community in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania”:

We can almost always tell if a change will bring good or bad tidings. Certainly things we definitely do not want, like the television and the radio. They would destroy our visiting practices. We would stay at home with the television or radio rather than meet with other people. The visiting practices are important because of the closeness of people. How can we care for the neighbor if we do not visit them or know what is going on in their lives?

~

In great cities men are brought together by the desire of gain. They are not in a state of co-operation, but of isolation, as to the making of fortunes; and for all the rest they are careless of neighbours. Christianity teaches us to love our neighbour as ourself; modern society acknowledges no neighbour.

~ Benjamin Disraeli (1845)

*All quotes in this entry are from Robert Putnam’s book Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community

the disappearance of place (1)*

Are we moving towards a world where there are no places anymore, only spaces and flows?

We talk about globalization as a way of promoting diversity, of connecting all the disparate places in the world. But I wonder: does it not just convert our cultural treasures into commodities? Will our saris grace the catwalks of Paris, Milan and New York, before trickling their way to sweatshops and Wal-Marts? Will our ancient mosques and cathedrals suffer the repetive flash of tourist cameras? Will our culinary delicacies end up in a fast food restaurant? Will our ethnic music become a special CD available for sale at the Starbucks at the corner of every block in New York City? Does globalization allow us to experience more? Or does it level everything to a sameness that gives us ever so more, but ever so less. Do we change places into spaces? Spaces where we can go visit, and consume, swallow up all we want from, and then leave.

I graduated from a program supposedly promoting international studies, global exchange and communication. I wonder if it does so much that… or whether it just opens the door for entrance into the “technocractic elite” of today’s global world, those who are disconnected from place, and only inhabit these in-between spaces and flows. When we studied abroad in foreign countries, very few of us took advantage of anything beyond the nightlife, the travel and other forms of consumption afforded to us by our American wealth. But it was easy—because more and more, the so-called globalized world has become organized as such:

"A second major trend of cultural distinctiveness of the elites in the informational society is to create a lifestyle and to design spatial forms aimed at unifying the symbolic environment of the elite around the world, thus superseding the historical specificity of each locale. Thus, there is the construction of a (relatively) secluded space across the world along the connecting lines of the space of flows: international hotels whose decoration, from the design of the room to the color of the towels, is similar all over the world to create a sense of familiarity with the inner world, while inducing abstraction from the surrounding world; airports' VIP lounges, designed to maintain the distance vis-a-vis society in the highways of the space of flows; mobile, personal, on-line access to telecommunications networks, so that the traveler is never lost; and a system of travel arrangements, secretarial services, and reciprocal hosting that maintains a close circle of the corporate elite together through the worshipping of similar rites in all countries.

"Furthermore, there is an increasingly homogeneous lifestyle among the information elite that transcends the cultural borders of all societies: the regular use of SPA installations (even when traveling), and the practice of jogging; the mandatory diet of grilled salmon and green salad, with udon and sashimi providing a Japanese functional equivalent; the "pale chamois" wall color intended to create the cozy atmosphere of the inner space; the ubiquitous laptop computer; the combination of business suits and sportswear; the unisex dressing style, and so on. All these are symbols of an international culture whose identity is not linked to any specific society but to membership in the managerial circles of the informational economy across a global cultural spectrum." (p. 417)

~ The Social Theory of Space and the Theory of the Space of Flows, Manuel Castells

As someone who enjoys the privileges of globalization, and who does enjoy globe trotting, I hope that we can come in contact with other parts of the world the world, without destroying the place, and transforming it into some exotic version of ourselves. I hope that we can tread gently on the different lands of this globe, conferring to each place dignity.

If we do travel, let us not confine ourselves to sanitary hotel rooms and guided tours; let us not turn a blind eye to the skinny, starving children on the streets. Let us not consume a place through the filter of our comfortable privilege, but instead make ourselves vulnerable, and allow ourselves to feel the pain (and the joy) of a location.

Because most notably, Castells’ information elite live far apart from the poor—it is becoming easier and easier for the rich to live in a simulated, safe environment, of their gated communities and airport lounges, far away from the filth and the danger of the streets:

"It is important to grasp that we are dealing here with a reorganization of metropolitan space, involving a drastic diminution of the intersections between lives of the rich and the poor, which transcends traditional social segregation and urban fragmentation…. Rodgers, following Anthony Giddens, conceptualizes the core process as a “disembedding” of elite activities from local territorial contexts, a quasi-utopian attempt to disengage from a suffocating matrix of poverty and social violence."

"Laura Ruggeri (discussing Hong Kong’s Palm Springs) stresses as well the contemporary quest of deracinated Third World elites for a “ real imitation life,” modeled on television images of a mythified Southern California, that “to succeed must be bounded – [i.e.], isolated from the ordinary landscape."

"Fortified, fantasy-themed enclaves and edge cities, desembedded from their own social landscapes but integrated into globalization’s cyber-California floating in the digital ether- this brings us full circle to Philip K. Dick. In this ‘”gilded captivity,” Jeremy Seabrook adds, the Third World urban bourgeoisie “cease to be citizens of their own country and become nomads belong to, and owing allegiance to, a superterrestrial topography of money; they become patriots of wealth, nationalists of an elusive, golden nowhere.”

~ Planet of the Slums, Mike Davis

And I wonder, what will become of the glitz and glamour of globalization, when its underbelly is anything but? What hubris will remain of our legacy? (Sameness? Simulation? The loss of the real?) Because we know all that rises to such Babel-like proportions must eventually fall.

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,
The hand that mock'd them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains: round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

~ Ozymandias, Percy Shelley

* Something that has been on my mind recently. These are scattered thoughts and interest tidbits I have been reading.

why do the poor always end up having to pay?*

While middle-class America may suddenly struggle with higher gas prices with their long highway commutes from suburbia to their workplaces, others in the world find themselves struggling to eat.

Food prices have been shooting up around the world, not because of any massive food shortages, but because demand has increased. Rising incomes in China and India have increased their appetites for meat and grain, but more notably, western biofuel** programs have been hoarding the harvest. The results have been devastating (for instance, the resignation of Haiti’s prime minister because of food riots):

We are the canary in the mine,” says Josette Sheeran, the head of the UN's World Food Programme, the largest distributor of food aid. Usually, a food crisis is clear and localised. The harvest fails, often because of war or strife, and the burden in the affected region falls heavily on the poorest. This crisis is different. It is occurring in many countries simultaneously, the first time that has happened since the early 1970s. And it is affecting people not usually hit by famines. “For the middle classes,” says Ms Sheeran, “it means cutting out medical care. For those on $2 a day, it means cutting out meat and taking the children out of school. For those on $1 a day, it means cutting out meat and vegetables and eating only cereals. And for those on 50 cents a day, it means total disaster.” The poorest are selling their animals, tools, the tin roof over their heads—making recovery, when it comes, much harder.

~ from The Economist, The New Face of Hunger

The economist article seems to be a bit more optimistic about recovery—believing that market forces will eventually increase supply, but seems to ignore ecological implications of the limited availability of land (and that growing too much too quickly with too many chemicals can destroy valuable soil). Is it really possible to think that we could plant enough corn to satisfy our only-increasing appetite for biofuel? Are the rich countries going to enjoy their frequent flyer miles, their blueberries and pomegranates shipped from miles and miles away, while the rest of the world experiences a Malthusian catastrophe? And furthermore, even if we do recover from this catastrophe, how many people will starve to death or suffer from malnutrition in the process? Is it worth it? Of course, I guess the life of someone poor in a third world country is worth a lot less than my life.

Yes, alternative fuel options for the sake of environment stewardship and sustainability are probably a good idea. But when it involves disrupting agricultural markets in such a way, that we get our biofuel while the poor starve, then I can’t help but think/cry/wail injustice.

While we try to find some “sustainable” method to continue our SUV gas guzzling habits, we seem to be doing it on the backs of the poor. And that angers and saddens me deeply: how it seems that we are constantly getting more comfortable from the sweat and blood of the poor.

And somehow, I’m also implicated in this system. I feel dirty buying my airline tickets to return home, my Florida-grown oranges and Mexico-grown asparagus, that’s been shipped many petroleum miles to reach me in my supermarket so that I can have my diverse food options. Meanwhile, others starve.

I am trying to understand why I was born into privilege and abundance, and not another life that could be so different. And if it’s only to perpetuate the oppression of the poor, then I feel very very sorry for myself.

* In case you can’t tell, I am/was angry as I write/wrote this. Perhaps, I might have more hopeful/more practical to say later, but this is how I feel right now. I am trying to learn to feel my emotions more, because they give indication into what I care about. And this has been part of a long reflection in the past few months of trying to understand my economic and social privilege…. Trying to learn not to feel guilty about it, but to learn how I can live differently with it, so that it won’t be wasted on myself.
** Please read comments to this post for clarification about biofuel-- there are apparently different types, and not all of them rely on edible food (e.g. some apparently use waste products)

*** In the same vein as this, India has been displacing massive amounts of its indigenous population in the name of environmental conservation: Wildlife conservation in India has generally emulated the early American (Yosemite/Yellowstone) model which regarded forests as pristine wilderness, excluded human beings from national parks and other protected areas, and saw its aboriginal people as “marauders,” “poachers” and “encroachers,” all the while sanctioning the lifeways and hunting practices of elite sportsmen and urban tourists. Throughout rural India, tribal Adivasis, ancient forest dwellers who occupy thousands of villages, are routinely blamed for declines in local biodiversity. (from: Guernica, Eviction Slip)

book reviews first quarter 2008

this is my “quarterly earnings report"

(implicit question, if I were a stock, how much would I be worth?)

I thought I should post quarterly instead of twice a year, because the entries were getting a little unwieldly. Does anyone actually read through all of these? Please note that there are a few five star rated books! Given that I’m always complaining about how annoying writers’ tones are, or how I always find myself distracted because I read them on the trolley, this is something quite notable!

I’ve also stumbled upon PaperBackSwap, which allows you to mail swap paperbacks via mail with other people. I've just started using it, but it seems promising. Everytime you mail out a book, you get a credit, which you can then use to request a book to be mailed to you. I have on my way: Beasts of No Nation by Uzodinma Iweala and Money and Power by Jacques Ellul.

I follow the Goodreads (which still has horrible navigation) rating system:
* didn’t like it
** it was ok
*** liked it
**** really liked it
***** it was amazing


Fiction

** Wide Sargasso Sea (Jean Rhys) ~ I was drawn to this book when I heard about its premise—it is about Bertha, the crazy wife of Mr. Rochester who is held captive in the attic in Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre. The novel explores her life in the Carribean and her subsequent existence in England, as a way of uncovering untold narratives. As fascinating the premise was, the book was disappointing. The prose was very lyrical, with a dreamy and dazed tone, which made it beautiful but also very confusing to follow. Despite the strength of the prose, the story did not seem to hold that much emotional power—though the characters were at times vivid, you never got very attached to them. Perhaps one could argue that I’ve already participated in my own oppression by adapting the preferences of the colonizer—a Western imperial taste for reason, expressed in my fondness of the straight forward narrative of Jane Eyre, instead of the fragmented structure of Wide Sargasso Sea. I’m just kidding. Let’s not read into everything.

*** Left Hand of Darkness (Ursula LeGuin) ~ This book gained critical acclaim after its publishing because it was a “thought experiment” on what a society would be like if there was no gender. In this book, Ai Genly arrives as an ambassador from the galactic federation of planets, Ekumen, to the planet Gethen, where the humans that inhabit are hermaphrodites, able to take on either gender at monthly intervals. However, the book isn’t really explicitly about gender—the genderless society only serves as a background, a quiet meditation that appears here and there, rather than a driving plot element. I found it to be much more effective that way—instead of having commentary about gender thrusted at you awkwardly, the questions and thoughts surrounding a genderless society are embedded in the narrative, and appear in your mind here and there as you read the book. The novel’s been criticized for not elaborating sufficiently on this genderless society— for instance, how does child-rearing work exactly? For me, it seemed that LeGuin was less concerned with the practical considerations, but more with the abstract impacts of not having gender (e.g. does that society think less in binaries?) In any case, this is a well-written novel concerning trust, friendship and long journeys across cold landscapes. Despite some pretty awful cover designs, this is not trashy sci-fi. LeGuin is an excellent writer and this book was thoroughly enjoyed 

*** The Time Machine (H.G. Wells) ~ I heard the entire plot of this novel before I read it, but it was still very enjoyable. Contrary to what the title suggests, the focus of this book is not on time travel, but rather a commentary on class, and economic and social structures. I don’t want to give the plot away, but it’s a quick and excellent read, and gives plenty of food for thought.

*** The Day in the Life of Ivan Denosovich (Alexander Solzhenitsyn) ~ I should not have read this book while riding on the trolley, because it probably distracted me from being more immersed in Denosvisch’s world. This book traces a day in the life of a political prisoner in a Soviet gulag. This book is not a gory sensational horror novel as it is more concerned with the mundane repetition of everyday prison life, rather than any extreme situations of abuse and punishment. Solzhenitsyn describes vividly yet subtly the hunger, the cold, and the sensations and thoughts of Ivan as he goes through his day. The book explores the psychology of a man who must endure over 3650 days, which are all more or less, variations of a single theme; the book investigates where the prisoner derives, if any, comfort and hope.

*** Undying Fire (H.G. Wells) ~ This book is H.G. Wells’ rewrite of the Book of Job. This book is extremely well-written, extremely philosophical and extremely dense. Job and his friends debate (or rather, orate) on the destiny and intrinsic nature of humankind and of God, and the purpose and role of education. It wasn’t that pleasant to read on the trolley, nor is it a particular page-turner, but it does offer some really beautiful and thought-provoking prose to the reader.

***** Bone (Jeff Smith) ~ I burned through this graphic novel (aka, fancy term for comic book)in 3 days, struggling to resist the urge to stay up until wee hours of the night in order to finish it. It is absolutely delightful! The characters are so memorable—the protagonist loves Moby Dick, the greedy Phoney Bone, a rat creature obsessed with quiche, and a talking leaf bug just to name a few. While managing to be extraordinary cute, corny and funny, the novel is also incredibly thought-provoking, particular on the subjects of relativism, cultural imperialism and power. The drawings are beautiful. The dialogue is excellent. And the story a definite page-turner—the start of the novel can be a bit slow, but hopefully the wackiness of it will keep one’s interest. Three cousins are driven out of a town which resembles something of early 20th century and stumble into a valley that appears to be from the middle ages, complete with vicious rat creatures who are searching for one of the cousins and a mysterious guardian dragon who always seems to appear at just the right moment, and then disappear. Think Disney meets Lord of the Rings.

Non-Fiction

** How Luxury Lost its Luster ~ I probably shouldn’t review this book, as I’ve never actually been in possession of it. I read or skimmed through about 50-70 pages of it while going to Barnes and Nobles at lunchtime. In any case, the book traces the development of the luxury brand corporations, all the while lamenting the loss of fine artisan craftsmanship that once characterized brands like Louis Vuitton or whatnot. The author focuses a lot on the founding of various large fashion corporations, and the profit-driven motives that led them to become the mass market giants that they are today. While presenting plenty of information, the author ends up jumping around a lot and listing tons of dates, events and people without drawing a compelling narrative (a similar weakness of Fast Food Nation). However, what was more annoying was the author’s own snobbishness about conspicuous consumption, as she constantly laments that the luxury products once finely made for the aristocrats are no longer available. She’s ultimately still interested in upholding the social status that luxury brand products can confer to their owners, rather than dissolving the mystique and the power that they hold over us. In any case, maybe worth skimming but definitely not worth buying, and for me at this point, probably not worth hunting down from the library.

*** The Sandman Papers ~ As much as I enjoy reading literary criticism, sometimes this book reminded me of why the English department in universities seem mostly useless to me—petty debate and interesting observations that never seem to actually answer any questions. The wrong questions are asked. The answers are never satisfying, just good fodder for cocktail conversation. I read through about two thirds of this book (a collection of academic essays written about Neil Gaiman’s acclaimed comic book series the Sandman)—it was fun and entertaining, but not much more than that. And I think part of the enjoyment was derived from recalling and remembering parts of the original Sandman series.

***** Planet of the Slums (Mike Davis) ~ I was very deeply impacted by this book—it left me crying pretty violently numerous times, both as I read it and afterwards when I thought of it. Mike Davis writes about the situation of urban peripheral poverty in Third World Countries, illustrating their historical development and inhumane living situations (sanitary and physical dangers aside, Davis writes of diminishing solidarity, growing exploitation and competition; governments have also pretty much abandoned them, instead opting to criminalize these neighborhoods, and seeking to hide them, destroy them or relocate them) Davis draws on numerous other authors, studies and statistics to illustrate his point (though unfortunately, very few first-hand interviews). Unfortunately, this book offers no hope or no policy solutions, only a bleak vision of an impoverished and chaotic future (an appropriate question to ask though—is hope an appropriate timber of emotion when faced with the bleakness of the facts?). This book left me feeling both incredibly privileged in my situation, but also incredibly helpless. I hope that my raw emotions can be channeled into some meaningful action and direction. And perhaps this is what this book is most valuable for: opening your eyes to the reality of the world in such a way that it becomes very difficult to ignore or forget.

***** The Screwtape Letters (C.S. Lewis) ~ I first read this book my freshman year, after receiving it as a gift from a roommate, a sweet and wonderful atheist. I’m now returning to this book after attending a play of this novel. I think I had a brief period where I didn’t really read C.S. Lewis—perhaps a slight aversion to his extreme trendiness in Christian circles—but sometimes trends are not always bad, and at this point, I’d call C.S. Lewis a classic, not a trend. His writing is so clear and concise (something that so many modern writers lack). His insight both into the kingdom of God and the kingdom of this world, and us humans who are stuck navigating between the two, is incredible. This book is a compilation of letters written by a senior demon to his nephew, giving him advice on how to tempt a recent convert to Christianity back into Satan’s camp.

commercializing care

While ribbons and RED products proliferate, have we really become a more caring society? Or is this just a new, fresh (or, same old) variation of self-absorption, one that so easily hides behind the rhetoric of care?

Excerpts from Untying the ‘ribbon culture’, a review written by Jennie Bristow on Sarah Moore’s book Ribbon Culture: Charity, Compassion, and Public Awareness:

For Moore, this is not an example of individual silliness, but a reflection of the extent to which ‘the pink-ribbon campaign is a thoroughly commercial exercise’, which carries the risk ‘that the products will fail to communicate anything meaningful about breast cancer’. It is the commercialisation of causes, which both empties them of all content and transmits messages that are negative and misleading, that Moore sees as problematic. In seeking to understand why the individuals she interviewed wear the ribbons or wristbands that they do, Moore’s account stands out through her refusal to pander to the rhetoric of ribbon culture, which emphasises ‘awareness’, ‘caring’ and engagement with a cause. In reality, these positive rhetorical sentiments mask an anxious, self-obsessed, depoliticised culture.

…

What is generally agreed, however, is that the privileging of personal ‘identity’ as a route to finding meaning in life is a fraught process, in which a constant state of anxiety becomes the norm: a process which individuals are never expected to resolve, only cope with. This is the background to the explosion of ‘Ribbon Culture’, in which, as Moore suggests, ‘ribbon wearers’ sense of awareness often manifests itself as worry, rather than a process of rational evaluation’.

The most powerful chapter of Moore’s book examines in depth the pink ribbon of the breast cancer awareness campaign, and ‘the implications of “thinking pink”’. Having already established the extent to which the pink ribbon has become a thoroughly mainstream concern and a consumer brand, Moore looks at what kind of ‘awareness’ is generated by the pink ribbon for those to whom it is more than a fashion accessory. Reflecting the group most likely to wear ribbons, Moore’s interviewees were predominantly young, white, middle-class women. Many, notes Moore, were ‘inordinately worried about breast cancer’. Their ‘awareness’ of the disease was such that they massively over-estimated the number of deaths claimed by it and the likelihood of women their age contracting it, and they were scarcely aware that deaths from breast cancer have been falling for several years.

The character of this awareness – which might more properly be called misinformation – is not surprising given the extent to which information produced by the breast cancer awareness campaign, as Moore shows, deliberately overplays the indiscriminate nature of breast cancer – that it could happen to anybody, that everybody knows somebody who has been affected by the disease, and so on. This plays off individuals’ residual anxiety about their health, lifestyle and mortality, causing them to wear their worry, if not on their sleeve, on their lapel. As Moore suggests, it is difficult to see what is gained by this ritualised anxiety:

‘It is… unlikely that cultivating a sense of worry about the illness is particularly health promoting for those women who do not have breast cancer… These women’s fear has manifested itself in burdensome routines and gestures (compulsory self-examination or wearing a pink ribbon, for example) which speak of a nagging, everyday sense of worry which refuses to be resolved.’

To fear death is one thing. To advertise that fear, in the form of a kitsch fashion accessory bought in department stores that is greeted by others as less controversial than wearing socks with sandals, speaks to the thoroughly morbid undertones of our modern culture of narcissism. Moore does a great job of exposing the orthodoxy of ‘awareness’ for what it really is; challenging the sickness of our ribbon culture requires that we think beyond the pink to care about something less selfish instead.

white people know what's best for poor people 2

I recently stumbled upon this excellent satirical piece from Gift Hub*:

As a reporter for The Chronicle of Philanthropy's Give and Take, you are sitting, knees crossed, and back straight, in a public relations event promoting a Double Bottom Line Social Venture Bakery in Detroit. From the window you can glimpse a prison looming like a fortress. The meeting is run by a Harvard MBA employed by Beaverton Social Venture Foundation funded with money from a Wall Street Wizard, Boverton Beaver, who made his billions buying and selling weapons manufacturing companies, including one that specializes in anti-personnel land-mines made to look like children's toys. He also served as Assistant Secretary of the Navy, and as a lobbyist for a defense contractor. He was indicted for fraud, but found innocent via a hung jury after a prolonged trial costing millions to litigate. He is best known for his trophy wife, a former Ms. Nude Miami Beach, now on the Board of a Conservative Think Tank, and for his contribution to the theory and practice of social venture philanthropy.

The bakery employs ex-cons and teaches them the skills needed to get a job: sweeping up, slicing bread, stoking the coal oven, running a cash register, and waiting on tables in the bakery's cafe. The artisanal breads are sold to wealthy friends of the funder. The loaves come with a picture on the wrapper of an ex-con smiling ingratiatingly and holding out a loaf of white bread in his black hand. The MBA is going over what she is calling "the balanced scorecard," showing how many ex-cons get jobs, what the bakery costs, what it earns, how much profit is makes, how much money it saves in social services. She is working her way towards the line called, "Total Net Social Return on Investment," some staggeringly large number, supported by 200 pages of spreadsheets and several metaphors. The cash on cash bottom-line shows that Boverton's Foundation is making 8% ("a Program Related Investment" as the MBA explains.) The Mayor who is active promoting "three strikes and you are out" legislation, and who owns a significant interest in the local for-profit prison business is next on the agenda, to give an award to his friend, and political funder, Boverton Beaver, for service to the community.

An ungainly Stranger, in a white leisure suit, neck open to the waist, bell-bottoms swinging, rises from the back of the room to say, "You know, my Fellow Friends of Philanthropy, I notice that all the ex-cons with brooms and other signs of servitude are black or brown. Talking to a few it was mostly crack that put them behind bars, and petty crimes. Yet, I notice that you, Boverton Beaver, have a daughter in rehab. I am glad for her that her needs are met, and crimes, if any mitigated. And you, Mayor, wasn't your wife at that clinic in the Hamptons? Boverton, what is the double bottom line on those land-mines you manufactured, that now litter Afghanistan? How do you net money and mayhem? And those sweat-heart deals with your cronies in DC? What was the Social Return on that? Has anyone asked whether giving these penny-ante felons a crappy job after 20 years in the slammer, is tantamount to justice? Maybe we got the right bars and the wrong gaolers? Maybe we trade sides, Boverton, and you and our Mayor push those brooms? And the ex-cons make money, 8% cash on cash, on your back and they call it philanthropy?"

Of course the Stranger is hustled out by the Security Guards. "Don't tase me, Bro!," the Stranger exclaims, before he starts screaming. As the door slams, the MBA swishes her fine mane of black hair and says, "Excuse me for the interruption. Where was I? O, yes, the balanced scorecard and our Social Return on Investment."

Suddenly, the Stranger, beaten, bloody, his white leisure suit torn, patches of it smoking, staggers back into the hall - "The scorecard? Balanced? Stacked, maybe, not balanced." Then the room goes black. There are confused sounds of a crowd trampling on each other headed for the Emergency Exits. When the lights come on, there you are, in the empty hall, wondering what you will write for the Chronicle. Something upbeat, something balanced, like that scorecard? Something noncommittal? Or a puff piece about Boverton Beaver? My suggestion is this: Ask your immediate supervisor for guidance. Keep your nose clean and your mouth shut. It is better to err on the side of caution, or like that Stranger, you might find yourself in small dark hole. He will be lucky if they even let him out to push a broom some day in that bakery he defiled with speech so open in a world so closed. Remember, the most important thing in any piece about philanthropy is what you know damn well, and refrain from writing.

~

From my previous entry on this topic, white people know what’s best for poor people, and the satirical piece selected above, it may appear that I am criticizing well-intentioned efforts of people who are genuinely trying to make a difference in the world. But I am not saying that their actions shall amount to naught, nor do I believe that everything they do will only make conditions worse.

I am simply trying to critique attitudes we often hold as we try to “save the world”. Do we genuinely love the people we help? Or, are we just going in with our sense of entitlement, our know-it-all attitude, and trying to pad our consciences (and our resumes too while we’re at it)?**
By more honestly acknowledging our incomplete knowledge, our past mistakes, our imperfect efforts, and the unjust systems we may support, we are in better position to be genuinely loving to those who we are trying to help.

My point is not to say that nobody should try to do anything good and beneficial towards others, because of impure motivations, poor outcomes and potential hypocrisy. My point is to say that we should continue to pursue what is good, but to do so with humbleness and kindness, not with pride, entitlement and self-righteousness.

If we truly wish to help, we need to listen and to serve, not just talk and direct.

We are not saviours of ourselves nor of others, but we can hope that through our imperfect actions, mixed intentions and clumsy efforts, a wiser hand can effect meaningful good.***

*Another blog that frequently writes intelligently on nonprofits and philanthropy is White Courtesy Telephone.
**I’ve heard far too many stories of rich donors who call up a nonprofit, furious, because their middle initial was omitted, or their name missing from the list of credits in the program (probably thinking the entire time, how incompetent and inefficient nonprofits are).
***I am no better than this hypothetical rich corporate executive who made his fortune from manufacturing landmines. I have probably accomplished less “good things for society” than him. But I hope that with the smallness of my life, I can do some good that extends beyond the immediate comfort of myself, my family and my close friends.

less meaty issues

The wedding is over. The honeymoon is over. And I find myself readjusting to a new rhythm of life, perhaps more traditionally known as practicing my “wife skills”.

Since indoctrination by Pollan’s Omnivore’s Dilemma and realizing that forever eating Trader Joe’s freezer, or food carts/take-out, or salad and baked fish, was neither sustainable nor satisfying, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to eat well and cook well, especially in light of the fact that I’m now cooking for a little family of two.*

I’ve been both appreciating and thinking critically about the way I ate growing up.** Plenty of stir-fried green vegetables, hearty soups, white rice, tofu and a little bit of meat. Most Chinese cooking use vegetables and tofu as the central elements—and meat serves more as a flavoring ingredient. Yet somehow in this country, Chinese food has been reduced to a plate full of deep fried chicken served on white rice. And while my favorite meals will probably always be the ones my mother cooks, I’m learning to venture nutritiously and flavorfully beyond oil and salt, and a bit of soy sauce and sugar.

In any case, I was pleasantly surprised a little while ago to see a NY Times article highlighting the fact that we eat way more meat than we need to. Thinking about the nutrition of my childhood, and what makes my body actually feel good after I eat, I completely agree with this.

Furthermore, of late, I’ve been feeling that meat/seafood-centered cooking can be downright boring. There is much more to be experienced in the land of culinary than a huge chunk of chicken smothered in sauce, with a side of potatoes and steamed vegetables. It’s been quite fun to discover the different flavours obtained by blending different spices, vegetables, beans and tofu. I don’t think I will ever actually become vegetarian, but I really appreciate the richness of cuisine without meat.

So here begins a new daily delight with the tangible (and edible)! There is something very enjoyable and meditative about eating food that you have carefully prepared (though having someone else to share the food with is integral to that enjoyment).

~

Yet as much as domestic matters and managing an apartment can easily and comfortably occupy my mind for days on end, there’s a deep itching inside me to pursue something more. And yet I don’t want to end up chasing after personal glory and societal acclaim, which I can sense is a desire in me. As C.S. Lewis noted in the Screwtape Letters—when we think we are finding our place in the world, the world is actually finding its place in us. Let’s hope that if given an option, I would choose to be unnoticed and humble rather than praised and proud.



* Clarification: I only cook half of the time. My dearly beloved husband has been wonderfully egalitarian about chores :)
** It’s amazing how much the food habits of our childhood impact the way we want and expect to eat today. This was clearly evidenced and experienced upon my drooling reaction to trying cream cheese and bagels for the first time in middle school to my disappointment and perplex with why people didn’t share their dishes in restaurants.

more than paper pushing

I just wanted to applaud the Williamson Free School of Mechanical Trades, and the $45 million generous donations of Henry & Lee Rowan, and Gerry & Marguertie Lenfest. More details on their donation can be found here in this Inquirer article.

Recognizing the shortage of skilled technical workers, the Williamson School gives college-age students degrees in carpentry, power-plant operation, turf maintenance, and machining, with free tuition and board. Further details of this award and the school are found in a Philadelphia Inquirer Article.

Far too many college and job training programs emphasize the importance of the services industry, urging people towards research, law, administration, management and business.

But I wonder (and especially in light of the downfall of Bear Stearns and the real estate losses experienced by the "money-moving" industry): How much paper pushing is needed? In this material age, why do we value the abstract so much more than the concrete? Why is the services sector far more prestigious than skilled trades? Why is a lawyer higher up on the social ladder than a carpenter? Yes, I might be an Excel whiz, but I certainly don’t know how to fix a leaking roof.

"[Craft] knowledge confers authority on the one who possesses it, and, as Sennett illuminatingly argues, craft traditions have been as much under threat from the modern suspicion of authority in all its forms, as from the industrialisation of the productive process. Originality and "doing your own thing" have replaced obedience and perfection as the standards to live up to, and this is everywhere to be observed in the deskilling of modern societies and in the marginalisation of those who truly know their job, and know it as something more interesting than themselves."

~ a review by Roger Scruton on the book The Craftsman by Richard Sutton