Emending My Mind

An Allegory

2009-05-09T16:11:00.003-04:00

A construction foreman is making plans to build a new house and he learns that one of his best workers will not be available for the job. The foreman is disappointed, since the guy is a really good mason, but he understands. He proceeds to fill out his crew and commences work on the house.

But just as he's getting started, his former employee comes into his office and wants his old job back. He's changed his mind and wants the work.

What is the foreman supposed to do? Should he fire one of his new hires? That doesn't seem right since it would it deprive the new guys of their jobs--jobs they pursued when the foreman was filling out his crew. Moreover, the request puts the foreman in a tough spot because he's invested resources in training a new workforce and has tailored his plans to their particular strengths and experience. He's purchased new equipment and spent a lot of time drawing up his plans. So the foreman tells the guy sorry, but no.

Spurned and upset, the mason looks for work elsewhere. Indeed, he has a lead on a job with the zoning commission that would allow him to tie up the construction project in hearings and paperwork for years, effectively killing the work the foreman is trying to complete. There is nothing really wrong with the project--the foreman has gone through all the proper channels and the public very much supports it--but local governments being what they are, the mason's new role would still enable him to stall the project.

What is the foreman supposed to do now? Maybe there's nothing that he can do--people are free to work wherever they want, right? But suppose the foreman knows of something he could tell the zoning commission that would keep the mason from getting the job. Could you really blame him for doing so?

Attentive readers will no doubt have gotten the point of all this by now. The foreman in this story is Green Bay Packers' GM Ted Thompson and the mason is Brett Favre.

Favre apparently wants to come back and play for the Vikings so that he can stick it to Thompson. But it is entirely unclear to me what Thompson did that merits having it stuck to him (or whatever). Favre may just not like Thompson and he may be upset at not having his every whim indulged. That's fine. He doesn't have to like him. And since there is now nothing that Thompson can do to prevent Favre from deliberately trying to "wreck his house," Favre is free to do that too. But what he can't do, it seems to me, is try to claim the moral high ground.

Brett Favre, Redux

2009-05-05T17:53:00.003-04:00

Brett Favre got his release from the Jets this week and now there are rumblings that he wants to come out of "retirement" again to play for the Vikings. That's fine. He can do what he wants (though even the greatest Favre apologists have to admit that he's now made a thorough mockery of himself and that you can't believe anything that happens to fly out of his mouth).

But Favre should know that Packer fans are loyal to one thing: the Green Bay Packers. And so he shouldn't be surprised the first time Aaron Kampman drives him into the Frozen Tundra and the Lambeau faithful cheer wildly as Favre slowly makes his way back to his feet. I'm not saying it's right. But if #4 shows up in Viking gear, I guarantee it's going to happen.

Kinda Sorta How I Thought

2009-04-12T18:18:00.008-04:00

Technically, I was right about the way The Masters played out. The top three players after three rounds held their grip on those spots and the winning score was lower, relative to par, than the leading score on Saturday night. The gamers I predicted would hold on to the lead did exactly that. And anyone who shoots under par while in the hunt in a major--to say nothing of having the best player ever breathing down your neck--deserves his props.

That said, I admit to being surprised at the charge that Tiger and Phil put into the proceedings. When Phil turned in 30, all the energy was with their pairing. No one in the lead had done anything of note and you felt that something unbelievable just might be possible. But then Phil, inexcusably, put it in the water on 12 and the game was pretty much over. The leaders withstood the charge and by the time they made it to 13, the storyline was once again all about them.

It may not have been what the masses would have hoped for. But it was a fun ride and Cabrera is a worthy Masters champion.

Sunday Shootout

2009-04-11T20:18:00.002-04:00

You probably have to be a pretty serious golf fan to appreciate the leaderboard at The Masters heading into tomorrow's final round. Tiger and Phil are both 7 shots back and if those guys aren't in the mix, many casual observers don't really care. But while the final two groups may lack something in star power, they are full of some fairly grizzled veterans and for that reason, I expect a pretty exciting finish. In fact, I'll be surprised if the winner comes from somewhere outside the last two pairings.

Kenny Perry is 48 and playing the best golf of his life. What does he have to lose? Angel Cabrera stared down Tiger a few years ago to win the U.S. Open. You don't do that if you can't handle the pressure. Jim Furyk has repeatedly shown that he can close the deal when he gets in the hunt. And no one with a swing like that makes a career in golf without some guts. And while Chad Campbell may not have quite the resume of the other three, he made his way from junior college to UNLV to the Hooters Tour to the Nationwide Tour to the PGA Tour and Ryder Cup team. Guy can grind it out.

None of them looks the part. But every one of them falls into the category of "last guy you'd want to play for the last $50 in your pocket." Who needs Tiger or Phil when you can have storylines like this?

Brewers Forecast 2009

2009-04-08T18:25:00.003-04:00

It's a bit late to do anything that can be called a Brewers season preview. Alas, the season started yesterday with a 10-6 loss in San Francisco. And in any case, I don't really have much to add to the consensus assessment of Milwaukee's prospects for the year.

In short, it all depends on pitching (mostly of the starting variety). If Yovani Gallardo can deliver on his tremendous promise, if Manny Parra can pitch a complete season, if Dave Bush can maintain his level of last season, and if Jeff Suppan and/or Braden Looper can give them anything--anything at all--then the rotation may be just serviceable enough to contend. Those are all big ifs.

A less prominent theme, but one I'll be watching as the season unfolds, is how the young Brewer hitters mature at the plate. Corey Hart needs a good measure of discipline; Rickie Weeks needs to hit for some average; Ryan Braun needs to cut down his strikeouts; and it would help for Prince Fielder to maintain a more consistent power stroke. Those were all weaknesses through the latter part of last season and it will be interesting to see how things go this year.

None of this is news to any of you Brewer fans out there. Still, I feel like I have to get on the record with some thoughts.

I'm not much of a prognosticator (as anyone who was in my NCAA tourney pool can tell you). But if you put a gun to my head, I'd say the Brewers will finish behind the Cubs and Cardinals in what will be a very good NL Central. And I will be very surprised if they surpass last season's 90 win total. Of course, I rather like surprises.

Disingenuous You Know Whats

2009-03-24T21:21:00.002-04:00

Watching tonight's Frontline (available online here) made me so angry I wanted to gouge out my eyes. It tells the story of the Bush administration's disastrous economic policies--it's mindless commitment to tax cuts coupled with unrestrained spending that has, in large part, led to the budget problems that our nation now faces.

A brief memo to all the Republicans who are now railing against the spending plans that the Obama administration has laid out to clean up your mess:

You have less than zero credibility on this issue. If you cared so much about fiscal responsibility, you had eight years to excercise it while you had a congressional majority. And now that President Obama has to clean up your steaming pile of shit by spending money we don't have, you want to express your righteous indignation?! I'm pretty sure you know what you can do with that indignation . . .

You Never Took Statistics, Did You?

2009-03-17T15:43:00.004-04:00

Every year around NCAA tournament time, some sportswriter seems to make an argument so bad that it really makes me wonder how he has a job. Last year it was Dennis Dodd saying that Tim Floyd was the best coach in the Midwest region. At the time, I noted how insane that view was and, sure enough, Floyd's USC team lost in the first round to Kansas St. (who then lost to my Badgers).

Now, apparently, it's Gregg Doyel's turn. His contention is that the NCAA should stop awarding games closer to home for the tournament's higher seeds. A perfectly legitimate view and one worth exploring.

What's problematic--and I'd say baffling--is the argument. Doyel points out that since 1999, teams playing de facto home games are 71-8, making them almost sure winners. Okay, I'm listening. But then he drops this beauty: "In the first two rounds, "home" teams are 60-5 (.909). That number is skewed by the number of high seeds who get those "home" games--but then again, it's all related."

Very good, Gregg, it is all related.

Indeed, the only relevant question--and one he never addresses--is whether "home" teams of comparable seedings have a significantly higher winning percentage than those who have to travel greater distances. With that information, one has the basis for an interesting argument. Without that information, all Doyel has shown is that a certain subset of higher seeded teams win more games, which is pretty much what we'd expect, isn't it? What we're left with, then, is a mildly interesting opinion supported by irrelevant evidence.

Must be nice to have a job with such a low bar of success.

Keeping Ourselves Alive

2009-03-06T11:30:00.016-05:00

At the end of last summer, I could have been convinced, somewhat easily, to abandon the academic life. It had been an enjoyable few months with family and friends and if someone had offered me a moderately well-paying job, that was at least moderately interesting, and that would have allowed us to live close to those family and friends, I would have thought long and hard about taking it. The academic grind had taken its toll and I was kind of done with it.

The disinterested pursuit of knowledge is fine. But you still have to feed your family. And if there are sources of happiness outside of work--work which, regardless of one's field, always involves a fair bit of BS anyway--then perhaps trading academic BS for some other BS would be a net gain: BS for BS plus some money and a modicum of security. I came to the conclusion that I didn't need to be a professor to be happy and entered the fall semester with more than a little ambivalence about what I was doing.

A funny thing happened through the course of that semester, though. The scales didn't fall immediately from my eyes. But I slowly began to realize that the academic life is far more deeply ingrained into who I am than I had thought. I realized that even though I have a lot of growing to do as a teacher, I am a good one who could one day be a great one. And I realized that while I may never write anything that radically alters the intellectual development of mankind, I have some interesting (and maybe important) things to say. Leaving all that aside for a steadier and larger paycheck wouldn't just be shifting jobs. It would be to fundamentally reconfigure who I am.

People are wary of identifying "who you are" with "what you do." Insofar as this wariness is the result of an effort to remind us that our worth as individuals is not a function of what we do, I couldn't agree more. Your worth as an individual--as a human being--emphatically does not depend on how you earn your living.

At the same time, there is a perfectly legitimate sense in which our identities can be bound up with what we do. They certainly don't have to be and there is absolutely nothing wrong with having a job that allows you to pursue other things that you care about. But sometimes one's identity is tied up with what one does in a way that need not be lamented. Your neighbor may just happen to be an accountant. But does Tiger Woods "just happen" to play golf? Or does Yo-Yo Ma "just happen" to be a cellist? Thinking in that way does violence to the relationship between their jobs and who they are and I have no doubt they would tell you the same. For Woods to contemplate life without golf or Ma to envision life without music would be, I think quite literally, to envision life as different people.

I'm certainly not trying to put myself in the same breath as Woods or Ma. Rather, I raise the issue because jobs are on a lot of our minds lately. If we aren't concerned about our personal economic futures, we certainly know people who are and those concerns are as real as you can get. Joblessness is not a philosophical problem. It stares us in the face when we get up in the morning and looks over our shoulder when we go to bed at night and directly affects our ability to achieve any kind of happiness. But it is worth noting--because no one on CNBC or FoxNews ever will--that in addition to trying to keep their families fed, clothed, and sheltered, some people are currently fighting to keep their identities as well. Getting a different job isn't always just getting a different job. Sometimes it involves quite a bit more.

The Pope Better Be Careful

2009-02-25T19:42:00.005-05:00

If Benedict XVI doesn't watch himself, he's in danger of losing any shred of moral credibility.

For those who aren't aware, the Pope recently lifted the excommunication of four bishops who, 20 years ago, were consecrated in defiance of the Vatican's authority. The schism initially occurred when the Society of Saint Pius X broke with Rome in the wake of the Second Vatican Council and the current Pope is acting to bring members of the group back into the fold. But it has since come to light that one of the reinstated Bishops, Richard Williamson, is a Holocaust-denier. Benedict has claimed that he knew nothing of Williamson's views on the Holocaust and demanded that he recant. Williamson is currently "re-considering the historical evidence" before deciding on a course of action.

The Holocaust is not a matter about which reasonable people can disagree. If you think that the Holocaust did not happen, then you have demonstrated, as clearly as anyone can, that you are not in touch with reality. And if you demand evidence that goes beyond the existing historical record before you are willing to concede that the Nazis murdered 6 million Jews, then you have shown that your beliefs about the matter have nothing at all to do with evidence and that such a conversation would be fruitless.

If Williamson asked me to prove to him that the Holocaust happened, I would demand that he first prove to me that he exists. For the demand in each case is equally legitimate (which is to say, not at all) regardless of whether you are able to provide a satisfactory response. In fact, proving the existence of other minds is far more difficult than proving the Holocaust, even though I assume Williamson doesn't doubt their existence.

The issue here is of a kind different from dealing with priests who themselves perform evil acts. One can be weak-willed or vicious in particular ways and still be part of the community of reason. It may be unwise to put such people in certain positions because of the wrong they may do to others. Nevertheless--even though it may sometimes be difficult to admit--such people can still have a moral compass that is overwhelmingly functional. But if you deny that the greatest crime against humanity ever happened, then you have proven that you have lost all sense of moral direction and any claim to represent Christ to the world.

If I were Benedict (and, for so many many reasons, I'm glad I'm not) I would say that Williamson can come back into the fold as a Catholic parishioner in good standing but that he is forever banned from saying mass or in any way speaking in the capacity of a church official. The mere fact that Williamson requires time to mull the issue over is all the proof Benedict should need that the denier should never serve in that capacity again.

Ricky Vaughn, Motivational Speaker

2009-02-22T10:02:00.002-05:00

Through the last week of the soul-testing (and often soul-destroying) gauntlet that is the academic job market, I've had a regular source of comfort. I'm not talking about my family and friends (though they have been as supportive and encouraging as anyone could possibly hope). Nor am I talking about the Bible or any of the other typical sources of wisdom people cite when they try to say something profound about a difficult situation. No. I'm talking about the cinematic masterpiece Major League.

There's a scene as the Indians are about to finish up training camp where Ricky Vaughn (played by Charlie Sheen) thinks he's been cut from the team. He storms into the manager's office and delivers one of the classic lines in movie history:

I got news for you Mr. Brown, you haven't heard the last of me. You may think I'm shit now, but someday you're gonna be sorry you cut me. I'm gonna catch on somewhere else and every time that I pitch against you I'm gonna stick it up you're fuckin' ass!

Vaughn punctuates this poetic tirade by throwing a baseball as hard as he can against a locker.

Now in the movie, Vaughn hasn't been cut--he's just the victim of a clubhouse prank. Still, the sentiment captures what I've been feeling of late. I don't want to be comforted or assured that "everything will be alright." I just want to work harder so that I can prove to everyone that passing over me is their loss. Maybe that's not the most noble of motives. But I don't think it's an entirely vicious one either. And anyway, it's where I am.

Plus, I can't help but laugh every time I think about the scene and levity can't be overvalued when you're staring a completely uncertain future in the eyes.

Please Tell Me Why I'm Wrong

2009-02-11T22:16:00.004-05:00

I feel like I should have firm convictions about what the government should or should not do in the midst of this financial crisis. But I don't have such convictions and here's why: I think the government should do whatever will work and that we do not really have any idea what will work. Why don't we have any idea what will work? Because economics is as "pseudo" of a pseudo-science as there is.

Figuring out how economies work is really a matter of empirical psychology (or maybe empirical group psychology, if that is a distinct thing). What we are fundamentally concerned with when we are concerned with financial matters is how people are going to behave in various circumstances and in response to various challenges. Are they going to spend or save? Are they going to work hard or be lazy? Are they going to innovate or rest on their laurels?

But how can we know any of these things? If we did--i.e., if economists were really able to tell us how people will behave--then shouldn't they have been screaming (and I mean SCREAMING) from the rooftops that all this was coming? And shouldn't there be far more unanimity on these issues than we have? I suppose we can study past situations and see how people did behave. But as any historian will tell you, even that kind of analysis is fraught with difficulty. It's much harder to figure out "what led to what" than many people think. And even if we can pin down the past, there are no guarantees that the future will be like it. Stuff happens. People and societies change.

As I see it, the fundamental problem is that human behavior is far more complex and inscrutable than economists allow. (I know. I know. Stop the presses.) That might not make for good Nobel fodder or bullet points on a public policy proposal. But if it's the sober truth, shouldn't we acknowledge it and stop pretending that we understand stuff that we don't?

(I'm leaving aside those who think that, as a moral matter, the government should not do anything in this situation, though I'm skeptical that they truly believe this as a moral matter. That is, I'm skeptical that such people would be against government intervention even if they believed that it would help. So even though they are giving this issue a moral spin, I take them really to believe government intervention simply won't work. But as I've suggested, they don't know that it won't work any more than the interventionists know that it will.)

This view has to be wrong. After all, it's just the armchair reflection of a philosopher who skipped ECON 101 a lot and is tired of all these "experts" pretending like they know anything. But if I'm wrong, I'd like to know why.

The Great Equalizer

2009-02-07T07:31:00.003-05:00

No single player can make more of a difference in all of team sports than a goalie in hockey. Pitchers in baseball come close. At their best, they have the ability to render an opponent's weapons completely ineffective. And if you can't score, you can't win. But only a goalie can allow a team that gets thoroughly dominated--that loses in every facet of the game except the final score--to nevertheless eke out a victory.

That fact was surely on display last night as the Badgers beat Minnesota 3-2. They were outshot 45-23 and seemed to spend most of the game in their own zone. The Gophers simply had more energy and created all of the offensive pressure. And yet, because Shane Connelly made 43 saves, the Badgers won. That's not a pattern they'll want to repeat tonight. But if Connelly can stay on his game, even a less-than-perfect outing might be enough to take the series.

Droppin' the Puck

2009-02-06T19:59:00.002-05:00

Say what you will about Paul Bunyan's axe or the recent basketball rivalry between UW and Michigan State. The best rivalry in Badger sports is on the ice: Wisconsin-Minnesota. Each series is good for heavy hitting and a few fights and the games are usually important for the WCHA standings. Good stuff. The puck drops in a few minutes and thanks to the wonders of the Big Ten Network, I get to watch it, even here in VA.

Proof That Tom Oates Reads This Blog

2009-01-29T11:19:00.003-05:00

Compare the last paragraph of yesterday's post to this nugget from Wisconsin State Journal sports columnist Tom Oates:

Despite its losing streak, this isn't a bad Badgers team. Keep in mind that UW has played a brutal schedule and has been in every game late.

Unless their frustration overcomes them, the Badgers have a chance to recover and make the NCAA tournament. Their schedule eases up a bit — only three of their final 10 opponents are ranked — and they'll have a decent case for an NCAA bid if they can go at least 6-4 in conference play (to finish at 9-9) and win at least one game in the Big Ten tournament.

Still Searching

2009-01-28T13:50:00.002-05:00

There was a point in last night's game when it looked like the Badgers were finally going to turn things around. Up 5 with 3ish minutes to go, they were playing better on both ends of the floor than they had in weeks. And then Purdue hit a 3 and then another 3, Jordan Taylor's shot goes 3/4 of the way down and pops out, and UW is stuck with its fifth straight loss.

Bo Ryan is clearly trying to find some combination players that he can rely on. The pieces for success might all be there but if they are, he hasn't figured out how best to put them together, particularly when they need a big basket or a bit stop. For whatever reason--youth, lack of toughness, lack of confidence or focus--this team just hasn't gelled together.

I think it's still too early to close the book on them, though. They have ten conference games to go and their schedule gets marginally easier over the next couple of weeks. If they can build on the good stretches they had against Purdue, then a spot in the NCAA tourney is within reach. It's not like their getting blown off the floor; they're just falling a little bit short a bit too frequently. On the other hand, if Ryan isn't able to identify his core cast of performers, or if the players give into their frustration (which has to be mounting) then they could very well find themselves NIT-bound.

I Hate Doctors

2009-01-27T19:21:00.004-05:00

I'm at the age now where I have friends who are doctors. Not PhDs. Actual doctors. Men and women who treat illness and disease and write prescriptions and stuff. Doctors. In any case, if you happen to be reading this and are one of those friends who is a doctor, rest assured that I do not hate you.

Nor do I hate all of the doctors who have treated me or my loved ones over the years. My kids' pediatrician is an absolutely wonderful person (and doctor). We love him. G had a number of fantastic doctors when he was in the NICU and we recently took S to a pediatric neurologist who was great. We even talked about Camus.

No, I hate doctors in the same general way that I hate auto mechanics: because I am almost completely at their mercy. When I take the car to the shop and the mechanic tells me that something is wrong with it, I have to take him at his word since I don't have the knowledge base to challenge what he says. If I did, I probably wouldn't be at the mechanic's in the first place. It's kind of a helpless feeling. He might be ripping me off. But how would I know? I could take the car somewhere else but I've already spent a day without a car in order to get this diagnosis. Better off to trust him, pay the money, and hope he's competent and at least moderately virtuous.

Ratchet that up a few notches when I go to the doctor. If the doctor tells me that I or the kids have something (or, sometimes, nothing), I have to take him at his word. I haven't been to medical school. So I suppose it's really being in the position of having to trust doctors that I hate, not the doctors themselves.

I think the difference between the doctors I like and those I don't (and now I'm talking about the doctors themselves) is that the doctors I like seem to be aware of the unequal nature of our relationship--they know they are the medical experts--but they nevertheless do their best to equalize that relationship. That is, they know it can be a helpless feeling for patients to have to trust someone about medical issues and they work to make the power imbalance less palpable: they talk about things other than medicine, they explain their thought processes, they present options, they act like they want to help and as though your concerns aren't stupid (even if they might be). Maybe all of this sounds obvious. But given the number of doctors I've met who seem not to know it, perhaps it's worth saying anyway.

Proof That the President Reads This Blog

2009-01-24T20:32:00.003-05:00

Given my posting topics over the last few days, I think this makes it clear that President Obama is reading EMM.

Who is Winston Smith?

2009-01-24T09:45:00.007-05:00

I was surprised by how engrossed I became in 1984. I knew the general idea of the book--authoritarian society, Big Brother, doublethink, yada, yada, yada--and I expected to be sympathetic with Orwell's overall argument. But I did not expect to be as palpably disturbed as I was by his vision .

Some of the middle stretches of the novel are a bit tedious, particularly those that have the main character, Winston Smith, reading a book that outlines the philosophical underpinnings of 1984's dystopian universe. It's backstory that I didn't find particularly necessary, perhaps because I didn't find myself asking the questions that the backstory was trying to answer. But the rest of the story is gripping and had me involved right through the tortuously long torture sequence that ends the narrative.

Orwell tells us very little about Smith. He's just a guy with a past that could be anyone's and I guess that's the point. Like all of us he has some tragedy, some regret, some longing for better times. He's not a genius but he's not unintelligent. And his commitment to truth and desire for human contact--the characteristics that ultimately lead to his undoing--are basic and largely unreflective; genuine but instinctive rather than the result of any philosophical argumentation. No matter. All of these get swallowed up or squeezed out by the forces around him, forces that are entirely beyond his control and serve to eliminate any trace of his individuality.

One of the advantages that fiction has over more formal philosophical writing is that it can more directly engage our emotions and thereby work its way more fully into our psyche. Whatever its other faults and virtues, 1984 has certainly worked its way into mine.

Two Types of Political Argument

2009-01-22T15:32:00.004-05:00

As a follow-up to yesterday's post/rant, it occurred to me that there is a distinction worth making between certain ways of defining success in the political realm and the implications those definitions might have for evaluating our political leaders.

On the one hand, you might have what I will term an ideological view of success. Such a view takes certain political positions as moral commitments regarding how government should be structured. For example, you might think it a matter of basic justice that taxes should be as low as possible or (alternatively) that income disparities should be as minimal as possible. These are moral commitments in the sense that to violate them is to do something basically unjust regardless of what measures must be put in place to achieve them or what consequences happen to follow from them. Thus, if you think that it is a matter of basic justice that taxes should be as low as possible, it will not matter to you if a certain scheme of taxation yields great disparity in income.

On the other hand, you might embrace a more pragmatic view of success according to which a government is successful if it achieves certain goals however it happens to achieve them. We want people to be employed and as many children as possible to receive as good an education as possible. Let's figure out how best to achieve those ends.

Obviously, these views are not mutually exclusive: the ideologue has pragmatic concerns and the pragmatist has moral concerns. But I think they represent two broadly identifiable approaches to political questions and are bound to inform the judgments we render on our government and the space we accord our leaders to implement their policies.

Moreover, what often complicates our moral and political discourse is that one person's pragmatic commitment can violate another's moral commitment. Thus, here's Rush Limbaugh telling Sean Hannity that he hopes Obama fails if his policies are socialist even though he's perfectly happy to support Obama if he ends up being a Reganite, lowering taxes and the like.[1] In this snippet, Limbaugh is espousing what I take to be an ideological view of what a successful Obama administration looks like: it will lower taxes and make government smaller, full stop.

By contrast, Obama has shown a strong pragmatist streak as he did in his inaugural address when he said that the size of government is not nearly as important as whether or not government works. Commitments regarding the size of government are not among Obama's moral commitments. Rather, he wants a government that is able to accomplish goals that he takes a great many of us to embrace.

The salient question when trying to cut through all the rhetoric and politicizing is thus which commitments are appropriately moral commitments and which are merely beliefs about the best way to accomplish a particular end. There answers are not always straightforward and often depend on a host of empirical questions to which we might not have any answers. But perhaps adopting this framework is a good way to organize our reflection.

[1] I'm perfectly aware that in focusing on the the world of talk radio, I am ignoring my own advice to ignore it. No apologies, though, provided that it's philosophically interesting.

They'd Rather Be Right Than Have Him Succeed

2009-01-21T11:15:00.010-05:00

I was overwhelmingly tempted to entitle this post "Sean Hannity Can Go to Hell" but a good night's sleep convinced me that such a move was slightly too crass and unbecoming. (Though since I've told you that I was thinking along those lines, maybe the damage is done anyway.) In any case . . .

I think it's important, in the midst of Obamania, to give credence to skeptical voices. In other words, despite the widespread support for the new president and wild optimism regarding the possibilities of his administration, it's important to keep in mind that (a) he hasn't done anything yet and like any other president will have to be judged on his record and (b) he is not omniscient or omnipotent (or, for that matter, entirely morally good) and so we can be certain that there will be missteps and mistakes along the way. Remembering these points is an important part of being a critical and thoughtful citizen in any well-functioning democracy and I hope that even his most ardent supporters do not forget them.

But there is a massive difference between (a) remembering that hype and optimism do not equal success and (b) wishing failure on someone because his failure means that you were right to level your criticisms or back a different candidate. I can't help but feel that there are far too many out there who are taking this latter approach. Worried more about being right than what is right, they are entirely unwilling to give the current administration the requisite space and support to succeed. Their minds are too small--and their egos too big--to be faithful pursuers of truth, justice, and goodness. And to the degree that they obtain followers, they are likely to spread their small-mindedness and undermine the collective energy to get things done.

(And you'll forgive me if I'm not impressed by protestations along the lines of "I hope I'm wrong" or "I hope he succeeds" when they are made by certain people. Talk is cheap and as I've said before, you don't prove that you are fair and balanced simply by repeating over and over that you are fair and balanced. You prove it by actually exhibiting fairness and balance over time, something that certain segments of the population--and certain prominent blowhards--have given no indication they are able or willing do.)

Even if you're skeptical about Obama's prospects, and even if you think that he has some things flat wrong, I hope that your skepticism doesn't inhibit the desire many of us have to put egos aside and get to work. For those who are simply unable to get beyond themselves, I hope you'll forgive us if we don't pay you much attention.

Choice-Induced Paralysis

2009-01-19T12:25:00.007-05:00

A year or so ago, we took G to Chuck E. Cheese's. He was old enough to play a fair number of the games and we thought it would be a fun way to spend a winter afternoon.

For the most part, we were right and it was a nice family excursion. But we were somewhat surprised--or at least I was--with the difficulty G had in choosing what games he wanted to play. We had quite a few tokens, certainly more than enough for all of us to get our fill of video snowmobiling and ski-ball. But G nevertheless recognized that our resources, while plentiful, were limited and that any choice he made was an opportunity spent. You could see the tension on his face as he tried to figure out how best to allocate his tokens. A choice to play one game was a choice not to play another and since he didn't want to choose wrongly, it was very difficult to get him to make any choice at all.

There's no such problem when we go to our local pizza joint and G wants to play video bowling. There aren't any other options and so if he wants to play a game, that's what he gets: bowling. The lack of alternatives seems to free up the pleasure impulse and the problem isn't getting him to make a choice; it's getting him off the machine.

We typically value choice and options and on the whole, I think we should. But it often goes unrecognized that too many options can sometimes lead to a paralysis of the will. Without any basis on which to rank options--a value system that allows us to discern better or worse courses of action--we may just end up doing nothing and thereby wasting whatever resources we happen to have. All the video games seem equally good and so we just can't decide which one to play.

Faced with such a predicament, sustained reflection may seem like a waste of time: sitting around thinking isn't really "doing something" any more than fretting about what to do is "doing something." But it is in precisely these circumstances that we need reflection on our values: what we really think is important and what courses of action might best serve our ends. That's often the only way to decide which options to leave aside and which ones to pursue.

Flowers-less

2009-01-16T12:11:00.002-05:00

After watching the Badger basketball team blow an important home game last night against Minnesota, it was apparent that this year's team is missing something that last year's team had--something that makes the difference between beating Texas on the road and losing to Texas at home, beating an in-state rival and losing to that in-state rival, and holding a lead against a conference opponent and blowing that lead. Whereas the 07-08 Badgers were able to come out on the winning side of all those battles, the 08-09 Badgers haven't been able to achieve similar success.

I think at this point in the season, it's clear that the main difference is the absence of Michael Flowers. Without diminishing the loss of Brian Butch and Greg Stiemsma, the Badgers have other big bodies that can collectively fill their shoes. But the loss of Flowers leaves them perilously thin at guard. Travon Hughes and Jason Bohannon have both improved since last season. But both have weaknesses for which Flowers compensated in a three guard rotation. And while Jordan Taylor and Rob Wilson may yet round into great players, right now they're too raw and inexperienced to make up for what Flowers provided: great perimeter defense, timely big-play shooting, and reliable ball-handling.

One has to think that those qualities would have made a big difference against the Gophers. If Wisconsin can't find a way to make up for them, they may find themselves falling just short on a few more occasions down the stretch.

The Other American Tragedy

2009-01-14T15:54:00.007-05:00

I just finished reading Joseph Ellis's American Creation and enjoyed it, as I have most of the works in American History that have been marketed to wide (i.e., not exclusively scholarly) audiences over the past few years. Much of the terrain that Ellis travels will be familiar to those who have read such works: Ellis's own American Sphinx and Founding Brothers; David McCullough's John Adams and 1776; Ron Chernow's Alexander Hamilton; Gordon Wood's Revolutionary Characters. But the way Ellis strings together the narratives and focuses on the question of how 13 British colonies came to be a nation-state on the world stage--the United States of America--is fresh and compelling. (To be fair, though, it probably wouldn't matter if it weren't fresh and compelling. Reading this stuff is as good as reading a novel for me. I kind of eat it up.)

That said, one chapter did bring to light an incident of which I was previously unaware: the attempt by George Washington's administration to strike a treaty with the Creek nation, an attempt that culminated in an elaborate visit of Creek leaders to the American capital in New York City. As Ellis relates the incident, it was a good faith effort by both parties--the Creek and the American government--to negotiate an agreement that might allow for peaceful coexistence between white America and the Native Americans.

Unfortunately, these good faith efforts were undermined by unruly settlers on the Georgian border and the inability of the nascent federal government to enforce the provisions of the treaty. The result was that the Creek allied with Spain and the march toward the de facto annihilation of the Native Americans was firmly underway (a march that, Ellis argues, was only hastened with the purchase of the Louisiana Territory in 1803).

If slavery is the unquestionable tragedy of America's founding, the treatment of the Native Americans is nevertheless an oft-forgotten story that deserves contemplation in its own right. Lest we forget that our country was built at considerable cost--of both the noble and ignoble variety--Ellis gives us an important reminder.

Black Football Coaches

2009-01-12T12:46:00.003-05:00

There was a conversation on the radio last week (I cannot remember which show) about why the NFL has done so much better hiring black head coaches than colleges. One possibility that was put forward is the fact that NFL franchises are forced to do better. In 2003, the NFL instituted the Rooney Rule which requires teams to interview at least one minority candidate for any head coaching vacancy. The speculation was that were the NCAA to adopt such a rule, it would help improve the prospects of black coaches for obtaining college coaching positions.

But while not wanting to minimize the effect of the Rooney Rule--which has probably forced teams to consider exceptional candidates that might not have otherwise garnered a loot--I actually think that explanation for the disparity between the collegiate and professional ranks is somewhat more straightforward.

In the NFL, the only thing that matters is winning. If you are a coach who wins football games and consistently gets to the playoffs, no one cares what you look like. To that extent, life in the NFL is somewhat more immune to the social pressures that keep racist attitudes in place and prevent qualified minorities from advancing as they should.

College coaches, on the other hand, face a host of other pressures and responsibilities. They are not only football men. They are also recruiters, guardians-by-proxy, university ambassadors, and icons of civic communities--all roles that NFL coaches can largely avoid. And because these tasks are much more influenced by the parochial attitudes of various schools, race can count against those who are otherwise very well equipped to win football games.

If this conjecture is right, it might have an interesting implication. I don't typically think that a "just win, baby" attitude is particularly praiseworthy. It paints a reductive picture of human virtue and excellence in a way that I find (morally) troubling. Nevertheless, it may be that just such an attitude has played an important role in bringing about justice and eliminating discrimination--goals that more holistic reflection on the value of all human beings has not been able to obtain.

A Defense of Light Beer

2009-01-10T15:27:00.002-05:00

My family recently took some (entirely good natured) ribbing from a friend for a light beer taste test we conducted over the holidays. The relevant quote reads thusly: "Taste testing of light beers is like trying to decide which is best: swill, bilge water, or sewer water. One may be better than the others, but they're all bad!"

Now I used to be of a similar opinion but have lately come around (hence my interest in, and enjoyment of, the taste test). While I still enjoy a hefty IPA or stout as much as the next beer snob, sometimes I just want a Coors Light (which I happened to rank #1 in our thoroughly unscientific exercise). And it isn't that I sometimes have to settle for a light. As often as not, that's going to be my preferred choice.

The central issue, it seems to me, is that you will never enjoy light beer if you think of it as trying to be "regular" beer with less calories. (Similarly, you will never enjoy Diet Coke if you think of it as trying to be Coke with less calories. Drunk in that vein, it will always taste, well, bad--a poor imitation of the real thing.) Light beer is best appreciated as it's own variety of beer with its own distinctive virtues. Among these virtues are the following:

1. Good light beer is (I think) crisp and clean with very little aftertaste. It's simple, not complex. There's nothing wrong with "big and bold" but sometimes it's nice to drink something that isn't quite so in your face.

2. The old Miller Lite commercials are exactly right: light beer is less filling. It doesn't weigh you down or bloat you up and this feature has some definite advantages. First, you can minimize the lethargy and discomfort that comes from a big meal coupled with heavy beer. Second, you can drink more of it with fewer of the deleterious effects that come from excessive consumption. This isn't a matter of trying to drink as much as you can and if you want to get drunk, there are certainly more efficient ways to do it: three shots of Wild Turkey and you'll be on your way. But if you are hanging out with friends over the course of an afternoon watching football--and if you enjoy the taste of beer over other beverages--it's nice to be able to toss back a few lights.

3. It's cheap. And for those of us who operate under certain financial constraints, this is not a trivial matter.

Of course, you can acknowledge all of these virtues and still not enjoy drinking light beer. But that's simply a matter of personal preference and doesn't deserve anyone's scorn.

Don't Hate Me Because I'm Awesome

2009-01-09T12:32:00.004-05:00

I may have had the score wrong but last night's game played out pretty much how I predicted. Florida's defense was too tough for OU to really get rolling and Tim Tebow was too tough for the Sooner defense to stop. Game over.

Which brings us to this morning and the anti-Tebow backlash raging online and on the radio. People seem to have had enough of the overly effusive praise that he has gotten from TV announcers over the last few years, praise that was dialed up to a fever pitch last night on Fox.

From my vantage point, the only legitimate reason to hate Tebow is that you are a fan of a team whose head he continues to kick in (the way you might hate Peyton Manning if you are a Jaguars fan). The guy is good and if you can't stop him, you might start to hate him. (I suppose you might also be rubbed the wrong way by his overt religiosity. But that isn't really a reason to hate Tebow. That's just a general dislike of overt religiosity.) The coverage of Tebow is another story. It is unqestionably over the top and, as such, can get a bit annoying when you are just trying to watch a football game. But as far as I know, he hasn't requested this kind of exposure and so it isn't quite fair to hold him accountable for it.

The more fundamental problem is that the obsession with Tebow can make it seem like he's the only good person (and good player) on the field and that's not fair to all of the players whose talent is not as great as Tebow's but whose character and off-the-field accomplishments are equally impressive. Unwittingly, perhaps, I think the media are pushing a connection between the off-the-field and on-the-field accomplishments and I suspect that this is the cause of the backlash. It's one thing to get your head kicked in by a player who is better than you are. It's another to be told that the guy kicking your head is not only the best player on the field; he's also the best person. But as we know all too well, one has very little to do with the other.

Prediction: Florida 35, Oklahoma 24

2009-01-08T14:46:00.003-05:00

In our family bowl pick-em pool, I picked Oklahoma to win the national title (though I ranked that pick pretty low because I was not overly confident in it). But as the bowl season has played out, two things have become increasingly clear: Big 12 defenses are just too weak and Big 12 offenses are capable of being slowed by tough defenses. Ole Miss punched Texas Tech in the mouth and Tech couldn't handle it. And Texas beat Ohio State, not because their offense was unstoppable but because Terrelle Pryor can't (yet) throw the ball a lick. (I mean, he really looked bad when he tried to pass. Did they teach him to shot put the ball in high school?) OSU's defense played well and if their offense had any balance at all, they would have won.

Hence my pick for tonight's game. Florida's defense is good enough to slow down the Sooners and the Oklahoma defense gets run over by Tim Tebow. Unfortunately, that means another national title for the Gators and their insufferable fans.

Consolidation

2009-01-08T10:43:00.003-05:00

I've decided to abandon my other blogging venture and to relocate my sports blogging here at EMM. After all, I think a lot about sports and so part of emending my mind is airing those thoughts, right? Readers uninterested in what I have to say are, as always, free to ignore it.

We're a Strange Lot

2009-01-07T23:14:00.002-05:00

Every once in a while, items like this come along and help you to feel a bit less strange. Toiling away in isolation, as philosophers so often do, I sometimes wonder whether my experience tracks that of others working in the field. I find writing to be brutally difficult and bound up with some ritualistic behavior: the right environment, the right beverage, the right lighting, the right music, etc. It's good to know that at least some other philosophers work similarly.

For the record, I've definitely done a fair amount of writing in my pajamas but have never (as far as I can remember) written sans pants.

We're Buildling Something Here

2008-12-09T17:31:00.003-05:00

One of the classes I taught this semester ended the term by reading Nick Hornby's How to be Good. I had read it a few years back and put it on the syllabus in the hopes that it would present students a compelling picture of the challenges of searching for happiness in our crazy 21st century world--challenges that face even those of us in the suburban middle class. From the feedback I've received, it achieved those aims fairly well. It's not a perfect book, by any means. But Hornby's always a blast to read and I think that despite its faults, it qualifies as a very good book. I'd recommend it for your holiday reading pleasure if you're in the market for a ride that is both entertaining and thought provoking.

Marriage and domestic life lie at the heart of How to be Good and my own connection with the novel is at that level. (Since none of my students were married, I worried that this theme might be an impediment for them. But there is enough other stuff going on that it didn't seem to be a problem.) The main character is struggling with her commitment to her husband, her children, her career. Infidelity is part of the package but a mere desire to sleep with someone else isn't really the issue. It's rather that she's at something of a loss for why she should continue to put in the time and effort it takes to maintain domestic tranquility (to say nothing of domestic bliss).

Maybe I'm wrong but my guess is that these kinds of questions surface in some form for most anyone who has been at marriage and family for any length of time. It's hard. We feel trapped, sometimes--impeded by our obligations from doing what we'd really like to be doing. We don't always like our loved ones--be they old or young--and wonder if maybe life would be better if we were on our own. When we're in the grip of these concerns, the familiar themes of affection and love don't really bring us back into the fold since they are precisely what we aren't feeling. They ebb and flow and can't be relied upon when we need them. And if we are simply reminded of our commitment, we may only wonder whether it's one we should have made. We may not agonize or dwell on these thoughts. But my guess is that many of us have had them.

So why stay in the game? Why put up with it all? Here's the conclusion I've come to ten years and two kids down the road of family life. Because building anything of value--anything important or significant--is difficult and challenging and at the end of the day, domestic life is about building something: a family. A family is a creation--possibly the most beautiful human creation there can be and without a doubt exponentially more beautiful than the Sistine Chapel. And (to mix metaphors) even though we smudge the canvass occasionally and can't always balance the colors quite right, if we continue to work at it, we can put down our brushes after 50 years and rest content in the masterpiece we created.

I'll Take the Giants Plus the Points

2008-12-03T15:34:00.007-05:00

I've long suspected that "investing" in the stock market was far more like gambling than most of us like to believe. And now this piece by Michael Lewis seems to confirm at least some of my suspicions. (For the record, I've read Lewis's Liar's Poker (referenced in the article) and I can testify that my reaction to it was precisely the one Lewis intended me to have.)

What has always bothered me about the market is that there is no necessary connection between the value of a stock and the quality of a company. Sure, there are broad correlations. But these correlations are anchored in the correlations that investors draw in their minds between the price of a stock and the quality of a company--correlations which may or may not track the truth of the matter. And if, for whatever reason, millions of investors decide that willbegforfood.com is a great company, you can be sure the value of the stock will rise no matter what the facts are on the ground. So when you buy a stock, you are betting that over time, people will think that the company is a good one.

Moreover, in the world of derivatives investing--the kind of thing that has driven the large investment banks over the last 20-plus years--there is even less of a relationship between an actual institution and the security being purchased. Invest in, say, mortgages and you are thereby assuming the combined debt of thousands of home"owners" and betting on the chances that they will pay off their loans. The greater the risk, the greater the possible reward. Sure sounds like gambling to me.

The truly amazing thing about Lewis's piece (and Liar's Poker) is that it reveals the sheer lack of understanding that those involved with such investing have of what they are doing. I have a Ph.D., albeit not in economics, and I have a very difficult time understanding what the hell is going on with these kinds of securities. As far as I can tell, it's all a bunch of smoke and mirrors designed to get people to get people to hand you their money.

Conversely, I'd argue strenuously that Vegas linemakers--those who set the point spreads for betting on sports--know exponentially more about what they are doing than the typical lackey working at an investment bank. That may sound outrageous. But its outrageousness, such as it is, is only a function of the outrageousness of much investment banking--not the lack of information available to sports bettors.* The linemakers may make it very difficult for you to beat them. But at least you are working with cogent information when you are trying to do so. Frighteningly, the same cannot be said of the house of cards that is our financial system.

*Also "for the record" the extent of my sports betting consists of a few horse races growing up (via my parents until I was of age) and various party pools. I have never bet on a football game against the spread in Vegas, online, or through Vinny the bookie. Not that there's anything wrong with that . . .

Why We Blog, I Suppose

2008-11-11T20:08:00.004-05:00

"Each one of us is alone in the world. He is shut in a tower of brass, and can communicate with his fellows only by signs, and the signs have no common value, so that their sense is vague and uncertain. We seek pitifully to convey to others the treasures of our heart, but they have not the power to accept them, and so we go lonely, side by side but not together, unable to know our fellows and unknown by them. We are like people living in a country whose languages they know so little that, with all manner of beautiful and profound things to say, they are condemned to the banalities of the conversation manual. Their brain is seething with ideas, and they can only tell you that the umbrella of the gardender's aunt is in the house."
~W. Somerset Maugham, The Moon and Sixpence

Local Politics Goes National

2008-11-08T08:38:00.002-05:00

Virginia going for Obama wasn't the most exciting political news around the Charlottesville area this last week. That honor belongs to the 5th congressional district race between Republican incumbent Virgil Goode and Democratic challenger Tom Perriello. The story has even made the front page of Slate. While a recount may be forthcoming, right now it looks like Perriello is headed to Washington--a very encouraging (if surprising) result.

Brooks Has a Dream

2008-11-07T11:14:00.002-05:00

As a follow-up to yesterday's post, I refer you to David Brooks's column today in the NYT.

Like Clockwork

2008-11-06T16:37:00.006-05:00

David Brooks was on NPR yesterday--indeed, he seems to be ubiquitous these days--talking about a variety of things. What interested me most were his comments on what would happen to the Republicans in the near future. His assessment was that they are in bad shape and will be reeling for the next 10-15 years.

The main reason for the struggles, according to Brooks, is going to be the hard-right base of the GOP claiming that they lost this election because Bush and McCain weren't conservative enough: Bush spent too much and McCain was too liberal on social issues. As a result, there will be a move even further right by Republicans in an effort to rejuvenate their conservative agenda.

And sure enough, talk radio has been buzzing with exactly that sentiment over the last few days. Sean Hannity opened his show on Wednesday with a rant/speech that, if it weren't so profoundly misguided and self-serving, could have been rather inspiring. To paraphrase: "Conservatism is alive and well! The Republicans have abandoned their principles! Go back to Regan and take over the world!" (Or something along those lines.) And this morning, Glenn Beck could be heard singing the praises of Sarah Palin and blasting the faux-conservatism and basic incompetence of John McCain.

For his part, Brooks thinks that this is exactly the wrong move for Republicans (and one that doesn't square with his own brand of (frankly) thoughtful conservatism). He has pulled no punches in criticizing the anti-intellectual strain of current Repubilcanism, going as far as to call Sarah Palin "a fatal cancer to the Republican party." It was therefore a fitting and humorous close to the segment when E.J. Dionne, giving his own take on the state of the GOP, said that the best thing the Republicans could do was lock themselves in a room and read two years' worth of David Brooks's columns.

The Morning After

2008-11-05T14:27:00.005-05:00

I went to bed last night before Obama's victory speech so I didn't get to watch it until this morning. It was a profoundly moving speech that, I thought, struck exactly the right chords: recognition of the historical significance of this election, respect for McCain, appeal for support from his adversaries, and acknowledgment of the struggles ahead, all highlighted beautifully by notes of hope and optimism. I don't think he could have done better.

But now we move forward. The easy part is over. Compared to actually being president, getting elected president is a cakewalk. I cast my vote because of my belief that Obama is made of just the right stuff to pull it off. Only time will tell if I was right.

Unfortunately, there will probably be a small segment of the population that will want to see him fail. More concerned with being right than with goodness or truth, they will criticize every misstep and fail to acknowledge any success. We will always have such people with us and I think the best that we can do is ignore them. Like 3 year-olds throwing tantrums, they should be left to scream their heads off in isolation.

We can, however, hope that the overwhelming dissatisfaction people have with the way things are going will open a window of opportunity--a measure of open-mindedness and patience of the part of greater numbers of people--that some presidents do not have. The unfortunate circumstances of history may paradoxically be Obama's biggest asset in the short term. If Americans are patient and hopeful and willing to try some new ideas, perhaps an Obama administration can lead this generation in building legacy for our country that we can be proud of.

Despairing of Democracy

2008-11-03T19:36:00.004-05:00

Those who know me know that I am rather non-partisan in my politics. I like to remain independent in my ability to evaluate candidates and issues and I think partisan loyalties often obscure rather than enhance that process. If your primary concern is for your team to win, then you can be blind to that team's weaknesses and sometimes stay committed even when the team doesn't deserve your support.

An upshot of this approach is that I think I am usually able to see the merit in a given political stance, even when I do not agree with it. Politics is a messy business and the issues are rarely clear cut. Appreciating the complexity of those issues and trying to give everyone the benefit of the doubt leads to political charity and nuanced thinking. In general, these results are much preferable to the kind of bunker mentality that seems to pervade so much of our political rhetoric.

But this election is somewhat different. I simply do not see what can be said in favor of McCain. Or, more precisely, I think there are some things to be said in favor of McCain but they are so massively outweighed by the reasons to vote for Obama that there might as well be nothing to say. Political choices may not usually be clear cut. But this one is.

This leaves me in an uncomfortable position with respect to my fellow citizens. It means that I either think they agree with me, and therefore appreciate the clear merits of supporting Obama, or I conclude that they are somehow deficient: irrational? (though rationality is a slippery notion), unintelligent? deceived? myopic? pigheaded? racist? evil? ill-intentioned? None of these are ways in which I like to think of my countrymen (save for a few talk-radio hosts), to say nothing of friends and people I know. And yet I'm not sure what else to conclude in this case.

Unfortunately, this problem is ineradicable in a democracy. As long as people are allowed to make voting decisions for themselves, based on whatever criteria they choose, we always run the risk that factors other than sober-headed thinking about the common good will influence the direction a polity takes. This danger was enough for Plato to reject democracy out of hand and was a big reason for the republican controls that the Founding Fathers placed on democratic whims. (Take a quick look, for example, at Federalist No. 10.)

However, unless we want to opt for rule by philosopher kings--never, to my mind, a wholly unpleasant thought--we will be unable to avoid times where we have no choice but to rely on the collective wisdom and good will of The People. This election is one of those times and I can only hope that The People show themselves equal to the task.

The 'S' Word

2008-10-22T22:20:00.007-04:00

The McCain campaign is out of substantive critiques of Barack Obama--or is at least recognizing that those critiques aren't working--so now they are resorting to name calling.

Whether or not Obama's policies warrant the label of course depends on how you define 'socialism'. But regardless of how you define it, one of two things follows: (1) it is false that Obama is a socialist or (2) both Obama and McCain are socialists. Both favor tax policies that levy a higher percentage rate on those who make more money (and, indeed, progressive taxation in the U.S. is far from new; it goes back to the Civil War). Both favor various tax credits and exemptions for small businesses and health insurance. And both have favored the rather heavy-handed government intervention in the recent financial mess, with McCain's suggestion that the government buy mortgages being more interventionist than anything Obama has put forward.

McCain and his ilk clearly know all this, even if they fail to mention it on the campaign trail. They are a lot of things but they are not stupid or incapable of basic conceptual thinking.

All this means that there is absolutely no substance to the charge that Obama's view are socialistic, at least as that charge is being leveled by his opponents. You can criticize Obama's views--argue that they are somehow unjust or that they will not have the effects he thinks they will have. But none of those arguments require invoking the label 'socialist' and so the only reason to sling the word around is its shock value. Socialism is evil--whatever, exactly it is--and so if you paint your opponent as a socialist, you've thereby painted him as evil. (Or if not thoroughly evil, sympathetic with evil forms of thought.) Devoid of substance, then, but perhaps useful for getting votes.

What is interesting, though, is that while the McCain campaign is certainly smart and nuanced enough to recognize what they are doing, they have to be counting on there being plenty of people who aren't, otherwise they wouldn't do it. So the next time you hear McCain or his surrogates throwing around the 'S' word, just know they are counting on you to be stupid and unrefined in your thinking.

Sports Blogging

2008-10-17T22:18:00.003-04:00

Most of my blogging interests lately have been sports related so I've decided to start a spin-off of EMM where I will be posting my sports commentary from now on. I know. I know. I don't blog here all that often and now I'm going to have two blogs?

Uhhh. Yes?

I'll still register my thoughts here from time to time so check back when you can. The new blog is here. It is not anonymous since I'm not intending to put anything there about the family or any political/philosophical views that might scare off potential employers who happen to google my name. All that stuff will stay here.

Objectivity in the Media

2008-10-15T20:10:00.009-04:00

I'm mildly obsessed with the notion of objectivity and this obsession has a lot of different angles, most of which I won't go into here. But listening to the radio on the way home today highlighted one that continues to vex me.

We hear a lot--way too much, in fact--about various "media biases." Most of this banter comes from the right as they complain about the "biased mainstream liberal media." But to be fair (dare I say objective?), there are also complaints on the left about certain conservatively biased media outlets.

Some of this is surely posturing. If you can claim to be oppressed, then perhaps you can garner some sympathy and get more votes. And if present yourself as "objective" or "fair and balanced" in contrast to all the other partisan hacks (who happen also to be your competitors), that is a nice means of self-promotion.

However, you don't get to be fair and balanced just by saying you are fair and balanced. So, assuming that we want our media to be fair and balanced, how do we know if they are meeting that standard?

This is a slightly different question than, "What are the standards of objectivity for the media?" We can, presumably, spell out what kind of objectivity we want from reporters and commentators. We might disagree about some of the finer points but my guess is that there would be broad agreement on the basics: e.g, not misrepresenting the facts, giving voice to different points of view, not working actively for the advancement of certain causes, etc. Fair enough.

The problem is that the only means we have of evaluating how well the media is doing come from the media themselves. We need information in order to make such evaluations and in the overwhelming majority of cases, that information comes from the very media that we are trying to evaluate. This is why there is almost no way to convince someone of the objectivity or bias of a given media source if they are not already so convinced. Any evidence or argument that you might offer is bound to be viewed as fruit of the poisoned tree.

I confess that I'm not really sure how to get out of this conundrum but I'm certainly open to suggestions.

Punched in the Gut

2008-09-18T21:21:00.004-04:00

When I left the house to go on a family walk this evening, the Brewers were up by 3 with two outs in the bottom of the ninth. Clearly they were on their way to a very important win and maybe back into this playoff race. When I got in the car after our walk at the park, I heard the final score on the radio: Cubs win 7-6 in 12 innings. The blood instantly ran out of my head and I've felt sick to my stomach ever since. It's hard not to see this as a sign that things just aren't meant to be for the Crew this year.

Sports are crazy, though. And if the Cubs can score 4 runs in the ninth with two outs, the Brewers can reel off 9 wins in a row. I'll cling to that as long as I can.

Taking Our Time

2008-09-17T23:13:00.003-04:00

Happiness is the Absence of Misery

2008-09-15T11:00:00.003-04:00

The UW football team won an important game on the road at Fresno St. on Saturday and the Packers won on the road at Detroit yesterday. These wins should make me happy. As a (perhaps overly) passionate fan of both teams, I should take great pleasure in their success.

But all I can think about today (apart, of course, from Aristotle's Ethics, on which I just lectured) is the ongoing collapse of my beloved Brewers who got swept in a crucial four game series in Philadelphia over the weekend. The pleasure I took in the football victories is completely outweighed by the agony of the losses. Failure dominates my horizon far more than success, even when neither the failure nor the success are mine.

Maybe this isn't so strange. After all, when someone is beating you over the head with a hammer, it's tough to enjoy the sunset or the beautiful music playing in the background. Nevertheless, I shudder to think what this kind of outlook says about me and what fun a psychiatrist would have deconstructing my experience. All I know is that the Brewers play the Cubs tomorrow and I'm longing for some relief from my current misery.

The Importance of Explanations

2008-06-05T09:59:00.008-04:00

S had an appointment with an endocrinologist the other day. At her last well-check, she was not on the growth chart and since her growth progression has leveled off, our pediatrician thought it wouldn't hurt to have her see a specialist. As some of you know, she has also been experiencing some delays in her gross motor development for which she has been receiving physical therapy twice a week.

I any case, the endocrinologist was running through a preliminary list of issues that might be causing her slow growth, one of which was low hormone levels. This, he said, might account for her small size and some lack of muscle tone--perhaps a factor in her gross motor skills. Obviously, this is all preliminary and we'll have to await test results over a much longer period of time. You can't make a diagnosis on the basis of one set of lab work in a one year-old and even a diagnosis wouldn't necessarily involve treatment for a while. Doctors don't just start giving babies hormones.

All that said, when I heard that might be a possibility, I had the following reaction: I kind of hope she has low hormone levels.

This is an odd thing to wish for your child. We want our loved ones to be healthy, not to have medical issues that require long-term treatment. (My though actually brought to mind the episode of The Cosby Show where Theo is having trouble in school. They eventually find out that he is dyslexic and the Huxtable's reaction is happiness, laughter, and hugs: "You're dyslexic!" "Yes! I'm dyslexic.) But then I thought about it a little more and perhaps my reaction isn't so odd.

Explanations are important to us because they help us understand why things are the way they are. And as long as we can get a grip on that, I think human beings are capable of dealing with pretty much anything. Life's problems are easier to handle if we can get a grip on their underlying rationale. And if understanding that rationale gives us some way to remedy the problem, all the better. If we understand why S still can't crawl, then maybe we can fix it.

The problem is that so much of our experience resists this kind of explanation. More often we have a partial explanation that provides absolutely no comfort because it leaves what we really want to understand just as murky as it was before. A teenager dies in a car crash because he made an alcohol-influenced decision to run a red light. On one level, that can be an obvious enough explanation. But why did he choose to drink and get behind the wheel in the first place? And why did he have to suffer so drastically for his mistake when thousands of people never reap the fruits of their bad decisions? Those questions don't seem to have any satisfying answer and those answers are the only ones that might possibly offer comfort.

So what can we do in those situations? I suppose we can either continue to seek answers, realizing that they might never come or we can become more comfortable with the ambiguity of uncertainty and learn to live with it--kind of like learning to live with a chronic disease. I'm not sure that either response is always better than the other. But I think they both show the significance we place on understanding as a human ideal.

(Very) Early Season Analysis

2008-04-20T17:51:00.005-04:00

It is still very early in the season but the Brewers have completed 6 series and I think they have generated enough data to start taking stock of how things have gone thus far. A couple of trends concern me; one doesn't; and one is actually quite encouraging.

First the concerns. Eric Gagne has blown 3 of 9 save opportunities. The Brewers managed to win two of those games but the trend is not a good one. Francisco Cordero blew only 7 saves all of last season. My guess is that Gagne has a couple more weeks to prove that he can handle the closer's role. If he can't, then look for a change, Gagne's $10 million salary notwithstanding. (If I had to predict, I would say that he will not be the Brewers' closer by season's end and there is a 50-50 chance he will not even be on the team.)

The other concern is Ben Sheets's health. He has been absolutely lights out so far (with an ERA under 1) but left yesterday's game with a tightness in his right triceps. He needs to be healthy for Milwaukee to have a chance (though they can probably withstand a brief trip to the DL).

One trend that doesn't really concern me is the Brewers' lack of offense so far. Hitting, more than pitching, tends to be streaky and I think they will be able to get things in shape. Plus, even though their stars--Fielder, Braun, Weeks, and Hardy-- are all hitting below .250, the Brewers are 10th in MLB in runs scored. The bats will start rolling eventually.

The early season trend that I find encouraging is that the Brewers have been able to win on the road. Last season, Milwaukee's ineptitude away from home was the bane of their existence. So far this year, they are 7-5. If they can stay above .500 on the road over the course of the season, they should be right there in September.

There were a number of voices in the national baseball press saying that the NL Central would be decided by which team ended up with the best starting pitching. I echoed that sentiment in my Opening Day post here. To that end, I'll be following the season-long correlation between quality starts (number of starts going at least 6 innings and giving up 3 or less runs) and rank in the standings. Milwaukee has 7 such starts so far this season and is tied in that statistic with the Cubs; St. Louis has 9; Cincinnati has 6. Order in the standings: St. Louis, Cubs, Brewers, Reds. To this point, quality starts are a pretty good predictor of relative team success.

UPDATE: My current sourness on Gagne should probably be tempered a bit by the fact that Brewers' manager Ned Yost chose to use him for the fourth straight day in yesterday's game. Gagne said he felt good and was ready to go but it's the manager's job to exercise prudence in those situations. The Crew had plenty of rested and capable arms in the bullpen and Yost probably should have used one of them.

This Week's Sign That the Apocalypse is Upon Us

2008-04-17T11:21:00.002-04:00

I meant to link to this a couple of weeks ago. If you need any sign that our country is going to hell in a handbasket, just check out this piece in the NYT.

Book Notes: "Romulus, My Father"

2008-04-16T15:20:00.005-04:00

Earlier this week, I finally sat down to read Raimond Gaita's Romulus, My Father in earnest. I had to get it through inter-library loan since it is currently only in print in Australia. I suspect there is a chance they might put out an American edition given that they have made a movie of the book (starring Eric Bana) that is about to be released on DVD here in the states. But I didn't want to wait.

Gaita stands as one of my favorite contemporary philosophers and my dissertation was inspired, in part, by reading his Good and Evil: An Absolute Conception. His work is infused with a profound sensitivity and a baseline commitment to the idea that the questions with which he is grappling really matter. It's a combination that is surprisingly rare in academia and even in those places where I disagree with him, or can't quite understand what he is trying to say, I find that his work stays with me, consistently informing my reflections.

Romulus, My Father, as the title suggests, is Gaita's memoir of his father and Raimond's time growing up in Australia. It is sparely narrated in the sense that Gaita does not provide ornate descriptions of events, opting instead for a matter-of-fact style of reporting which is then punctuated with reflection on the meaning of those events: their importance for Gaita's development as as human being as well as what they illustrate about the broader human condition. Once I got going, I motored right through it.

My interest was doubtless encouraged by a desire to learn something about the historical person who wrote the philosophy I so admire. For while the book is ostensibly about Romulus, it is equally about Raimond: it is told entirely from his perspective and by way of his recollections (supplemented, I'm sure, with a bit of research to corroborate and correct his memories and fill in various holes).

For me, the book ended up posing a kind of philosophical question. Gaita's childhood was marked by significant adversity. He faced the inevitable challenges of growing up as the son of an immigrant at a time when that carried much more of a stigma than it probably does today. His mother was more or less absent from his life, suffering from mental illness and eventually committing suicide. His father likewise suffered from serious bouts of insanity and spent stretches of time being hospitalized. And most of this took place while Gaita lived a highly isolated life in a tiny farmhouse in rural Australia.

The question that arises is how this set of experiences has shaped Gaita's philosophizing: the questions he takes to be important and the way he thinks it best to go about pursuing them. In other words, is the reason that his academic work is infused with such humanity (for lack of a better term) that he had such an incredible range of experiences as a child? And if so, is the living of a certain kind of life then a necessary condition for obtaining philosophical insights of a certain kind?

I'm inclined to think that the answer to both of these questions is "yes" but it's hard to know exactly how to characterize the nature of the influence or how they positively shape the insights. After all, one might argue that living a certain kind of life can warp one's perceptions and thereby cloud one's philosophical judgment. Figuring out how to counter that claim opens one up to a host of complex questions, not the least of which is how we are to judge the quality of philosophical insight.

Rolling Over

2008-04-15T20:51:00.003-04:00

Given the work we've been putting in with S lately, this is kind of exciting:

Cuteness Incarnate

2008-04-15T15:07:00.005-04:00

I mean, come on . . . .

No Charge

2008-04-14T18:39:00.003-04:00

I feel a little guilty writing about Tiger Woods today, given that it was Trevor Immelman, and not Woods, who won The Masters. Immelman was clearly the best player this week: he shot three great opening rounds to put him in position and when the conditions and pressure got crazy yesterday afternoon, he held it together enough to win. Moreover, he's a very likable and unassuming bloke with a golf swing that is pretty to watch. I hope this isn't the last we hear from him.

But as has been pointed out elsewhere, yesterday was another example of Tiger not charging from behind to win a major. For all his amazing accomplishments--and they are unparalleled--all of his 13 major championships have come when he was leading or tied for the lead after three rounds. Not one has been the result of a Sunday afternoon flurry that propels him to victory.

Now don't underestimate how difficult it is to win when you are ahead. Peter Kostis (I think insightfully) pointed out on yesterday's telecast that having a big lead makes the physical aspects of golf easier. You don't have to be as precise with your shots since you can make some mistakes and still be in the lead. However, it makes the mental dynamics of the game more complicated since it opens up a wider range of decisions. Should I play safe or aggressively? Should I go for it or lay up? Flag or middle of the green? When you are behind, these decisions are largely made for you. You have to go for it or you won't win. But when you are ahead, your mind can start to get more active and in golf, that's definitely not always a good thing.

Nevertheless, it is odd, at this point in his career, that Tiger has not made a Sunday charge to win a major. He's won other tournaments that way but none of the biggies. And while his legacy would be completely untarnished if he never did, it remains somewhat perplexing. Jack Nicklaus won 8 of his 18 majors coming from behind on Sunday. But Woods hasn't done it once?

I can't really think of any plausible explanation for it but it seems to be a pattern that cries out for one. The only thing I can come up with is that he just presses a bit too much when he is behind--i.e., he tries so hard to shoot a low number (and maybe even a specific number) that he gets in the way of whatever natural momentum he might be able to gather over the course of a round. When he's ahead, he knows that if he just executes, he'll come out on top. But when he's behind, he feels like he has to manufacture something and that's very hard to do.

In any case, the golf season has officially begun and I'll be interested to see how the rest of the summer plays out.

Bush's War

2008-04-01T13:22:00.001-04:00

I was riveted last week by the Frontline documentary Bush's War. (You can watch the whole thing online here.) I think it represents something like an authoritative narrative of the events leading up to the Iraq War and how that war has progressed since it started. It was particularly helpful for me, since I find it easy to forget who did what when, who was in charge of what, and how the administration's rhetoric and reasoning have evolved over time.

(It also makes me profoundly thankful for a free press. Even if you disagree with Frontline's take on the whole thing, it brings home the importance of having someone there to ask these questions and to tell the story. The thought of a government being able to conduct its affairs without the accountability provided by the press is rather horrifying and this story in particular brings that home.)

I've long thought that the legacy of the Bush administration would be one of arrogant incompetence. I am not one of those who attributes radically insidious motives to Bush or thinks that he is, in any straightforward sense, an evil man. Rather, I think that he is an overly simplistic thinker, with a commitment to a small number of bumper-sticker convictions about politics and the role of government, who simply was not up to the task of governing the nation in this historical moment. Moreover, he does not have the sense to think that he and his inner circle might need some input and correction outside their own number.

The incompetence thus lies in his basic inability to deal with the issues that face him (or, for that matter, any president). They are, I contend, simply too big and too complex for him and as a result, he's in way over his head. The arrogance lies in not recognizing this fact and proceeding as though his sloganish thinking is adequate to the tasks at hand. You might be able to get away with this combination as owner of the Texas Rangers or even as governor of Texas. Indeed, had history unfolded differently, Bush might have largely been able to get away with it as president. But the second those planes hit the Towers, that chance evaporated.

I think the narrative arc of Bush's War more or less confirms this analysis. The bumbling insularity of the administration's war preparations and execution come through loud and clear.
But it complicates my take somewhat because it shows what happens when arrogant incompetence does something like go to war. When you are talking about killing other human beings, deposing their government, and attempting to set up something in its place, arrogant incompetence starts to have undeniably evil effects. And the connection between the arrogance, incompetence, and those effects makes it very difficult not to render an incredibly harsh moral verdict on the one who is responsible for bringing about those effects.

There would be nothing particularly immoral if I thought that I was a masterful engineer and that because I possessed the relevant skills, I really didn't need to go to engineering school. I might be deluded or self-deceived, or maybe just silly, but I probably wouldn't be a bad person just in virtue of holding those beliefs. But if I then proceeded to design and build a bridge that subsequently collapsed and killed hundreds of people, the verdict would probably be quite different.

Of course, someone would have to allow a self-deluded engineer to build a bridge and they would accrue some responsibility if they did. Perhaps a similar responsibility therefore falls on those who allowed the Bush to do what he did: the electorate, congress, members of the Cabinet, military personnel, etc.

The documentary closes by noting that at the beginning of next year, Bush's war will belong to someone else. I find that profoundly disheartening because there does not seem to be any good way forward. I am not at all optimistic about the prospects for success there, at least not without committing far more troops than the American people are willing, and perhaps able, to commit. But I also think that simply withdrawing and coming home will leave a dangerous and unstable situation on the ground--one that we created and that will only be resolved, if at all, through an extremely violent and prolonged conflict.

The next administration can certainly blame Bush for putting us in this situation. But I don't think they'll be able to determine how best to get out of it by simply trying to pretend that it is not the situation we are in.

Opening Day 2008

2008-03-31T08:53:00.007-04:00

Technically, the baseball season opened in Japan last week (with a series between the Red Sox and As) and while there was also a game last night, today is really the opening day of the baseball season. The weather in Chicago isn't looking good for the Brewers and Cubs but should things clear up, they'll get rolling at 2:20 EDT.

Last season, if you recall, the Crew started out having one of the best records in baseball into May before proceeding to rip my heart out over the course of the summer. Despite the collapse, it was an important year for them: they had their first winning record since 1992 and went into September with a chance to make the post-season. With one of the younger, more exciting rosters in baseball, they enter this season as bona fide playoff contenders.

As I see it, their prospects depend almost entirely on their starting pitching. Sure, Prince Fielder, Ryan Braun, Corey Hart, and J.J. Hardy need to maintain their offensive production levels from last year, their defense could stand to get a little better, and there is a question how the back end of the bullpen will fair with the loss of Francisco Cordero and the perpetual adventures of Derrick Turnbow. But I think their problems last year were largely a result of the inability of their starters to go deep into games. If your starters only go six innings, that puts a lot of pressure on your bullpen, pressure that wears them down over the course of the year. And pressure on your bullpen means additional pressure on your offense which, even if they are outstanding, can't be expected to score 10 runs a game. By the same token, if the starters pitch well, and for seven-plus innings, the bullpen and offense are freed up a bit: they can win by playing well rather than having to be outstanding in order to stay in games.

So how is the Brewers' pitching? Hard to tell but apparently good enough to release Claudio Vargas with both Chris Capuano and Yovani Gallardo starting the season injured.

The anchors of the staff will be Ben Sheets and Jeff Suppan. The key with Sheets is always his health. If he can pitch a complete season, he should win 20-plus games. If history is any indicator, Suppan will eat up innings and elevate his game in the last couple months of the season.

After that, it's all about the youth: Carlos Villanueva, Manny Parra, and Dave Bush will fill out the rotation until Gallardo gets healthy (probably a couple of weeks). My sense is that Bush will be the odd man out at that point but that probably depends on performance. Gallardo showed flashes of brilliance last year. If his young arm lasts a whole season, he's a star in the making. Parra is something of an unknown--he was spotty in his few major league appearances last season. Villanueva is a particular favorite of mine. He's got pretty good stuff and no fear about throwing any of his pitches anywhere in the count. I really like watching him pitch.

If some combination of these guys can step up, I think the Brewers will be playoff bound for the first time since 1982. As I write, the Cubs and Crew are underway. It's a long season, kids. Let's hope it's a good one.

There's a Hole In My Life Where Bucky Used to Be

2008-03-29T22:00:00.004-04:00

My weekend schedule got thrown into disarray when the Badgers lost to Davidson last night. I had been looking forward to watching them play Kansas on Sunday for a chance to go to the Final Four. Alas, Davidson didn't care what I wanted to do with my weekend. Ah well.

I was disappointed at the outcome, like any fan would be. But I was also disappointed that UW lost the way they did. They had no answer for Davidson's perimeter offense (in particular for the truly phenomenal Stephen Curry) and Davidson's defense seemed to have the Badgers rattled the entire second half. They weren't able to get the ball inside or slow down the flow of the game so as to emphasize their strengths. In some ways, the game was just way too pretty for them to win. They needed an ugly slog and it just wasn't there for them.

The UW players classily gave Davidson all the credit after the game. While they could definitely have played better, it wasn't just lip service either. Last night, Davidson was the better team.

I had grown to love this version of the Badgers, probably more than any other Badger team I've ever followed. They were selfless, hard working, smart, and clearly enjoyed being around each other. They represented their university as well as a sports team can and I'll miss watching them.

Now I need something to do on Sunday. Good thing baseball season is right around the corner . . .

What?! What?!

2008-03-17T08:04:00.003-04:00

I don't know if sportswriters can get away with staying stupid things more than other writers because, at the end of the day, it's just sports. But Dennis Dodd is sure making making that case today when he claims that Tim Floyd is the best coach in the Midwest region of this year's NCAA basketball tournament. What?

Nothing against Floyd. He is a fine coach and his Trojans may very well make a good run this year. For all I know, they'll run through my Badgers in the second round and go on to win the whole thing. Kudos to them and kudos to Floyd. But claims like Dodd's can't be based on predictions. So, in good philosophical style, let's compare Floyd to the other coaches in the region as a way to examine Dodd's claim.

Bill Self (Kansas): Self just won his fourth straight Big 12 conference title. Before that, his Illinois teams won two conference titles and at Tulsa, he won two WAC titles. Some might say that Self has had his troubles in the NCAA tournament, but in his defense, he has been to the Elite Eight four times with three different schools.

John Thompson III (Georgetown): Georgetown won its second straight Big East title this year and made the Final Four last year. While at Princeton, Thompson won three Ivy League titles.

Bo Ryan (Wisconsin): Ryan has won three Big Ten titles at UW, been to the NCAA tourney each of those years, and made the Elite Eight in 2005. While at UW-Platteville (Div. III), Ryan won eight conference titles and four national championships.

Now Floyd did win four conference championships while at the University of New Orleans back in the '90s. But other than that, he's won exactly nothing. No conference championships at Iowa State and never past the Sweet 16 in the NCAA tourney. Then he went to the NBA and was God awful--his career NBA record is 93-235. Since coming back to college, his USC teams have been competitive but haven't finished higher than third in the Pac-10.

Floyd has gotten some press because of his high-profile recruits over the last couple of years and the media seem to like him. But if I were hiring a coach for my school, I'd take Self, Thompson, or Ryan before I'd take Floyd--and it's not even close. I mean not even close.

Who Says Teachers Are Underpaid?

2008-03-14T10:49:00.004-04:00

Noticed this story in the NYT last week about a new charter school where teachers are going to be paid $125,000/yr. If that weren't jaw-dropping enough, the principal (and founder) is only going to be paid $90,000. His theory is that teacher quality is the single most important factor in creating good schools and that teacher pay is the single best way to attract good teachers. The article kind of hails the school as an experiment that will test the theory.

I will be interested to see how things work out. Since they have to cut some things in order to maintain that level of pay, I think it could be a pretty good case study of whether teacher quality outweighs other factors in constructing a good school. In other words, given limited resources, are we better off with excellent teachers, bigger classes, and fewer administrators or is some other combination better (e.g., more teachers and service personnel and smaller classes).?I'm inclined to think that teacher quality is more important in high school whereas class size is more important in early grades so that some kind of sliding scale is really what we need. But I think it's an empirical question such that some fiddling around with various combinations is a good idea.

Obviously, the sample will be far too small to determine whether anything like this is workable on a more national level (i.e., whether massively boosting teacher pay is the best way to improve educational quality). At capacity, the school will only have 28 teachers. So let's say they get the 28 best teachers in New York City (which obviously they won't). All we'll know is that for those already in the teaching profession, pay is a factor in determining where they want to work. But we already knew that. It will merely be a transference and concentration of already existing talent, surely not a recipe for educational reform on a broad scale.

The more important question, from a public policy perspective, is whether massively boosting teacher pay will improve the overall quality of teachers--something I've posted about before. And it isn't clear that one charter school, no matter how successful, will be able to tell us much about that.

I Don't Have a Real Job (but that doesn't mean I don't work)

2008-03-11T22:40:00.004-04:00

I am now firmly planted in the world of academia. Of course, I have been for some time since I was basically a student from 1995-2007. But now that I make my living as a member of the academy and am a card-carrying Ph.D., my status as an academic seems rather more secure. I don't "have to go study"; I "have to go to work" and by "work" I mean my office at UVA (or perhaps a local coffee shop) where I do academic-type stuff for hours on end.

My sense is that the broader public has a difficult time understanding the academic life, particularly in the humanities and social sciences. Teaching they can perhaps get a grip on, provided that teaching is understood as the time one actually spends in class teaching. But the rest of it is somewhat baffling. The notion that teaching involves much much more than the hours spent in the classroom often escapes people. And forget about research, especially when you are a philosopher. The idea that doing original philosophical work is part of what I do (and am supposed to be doing) totally escapes them.

Michale Berube over at Crooked Timber has a couple of posts that address some of these issues and I commend to you. The first is Berube's reaction to a column criticizing the workload of university professors. I think academics are on shaky ground when they try to talk about how hard they work. Such claims just ring hollow to those whose jobs require much more physical exertion, personal risk, or 80 hour weeks. Nevertheless, I think there is important value in what we do--a value that means that we do not have to apologize for what we do or feel badly that we enjoy our work--and I think Berube's take is spot-on.

The second post (which is actually from back in May '07) is a more personal narrative of his experience trying to get some work done on a trip to visit his in-laws. Suffice it to say that I can relate. Enjoy.

Against Partisanship

2008-03-05T13:21:00.002-05:00

Barack Obama has recently been criticized in some quarters for his anti-partisan rhetoric. The thought seems to be that if a future Obama administration is not willing to wage heavy political warfare against the Republicans, and thereby align its agenda closely with the Democratic party machine in both style and substance, it will be extremely difficult to get anything valuable done. Better to be a partisan warrior and implement progressive policies by all the means at one’s disposal than to miss out on a unique opportunity to accomplish some of the goals the left holds dear.

There is, of course, truth and a sobering realism in such a view. Any president who thinks he can rally everyone to his cause by giving inspired speeches and simply asking for what he wants will eventually crash into the solid rock of opposition. And the more controversial the goal—universal healthcare, for example, or any policy at all regarding taxes—the more solid that opposition will be. Making progress on these matters will thus require knowing who one’s friends are and fortifying some well-chosen political ground.

But the call to partisanship, and its corresponding suspicion of supposedly trans-partisan efforts, often goes farther than a mere call to realism. In some of its guises, it can sound like a militaristic rallying cry—a challenge to defeat the enemy at all costs. (To illustrate, a Paul Krugman column in Slate last year bore the title “Progressives, To Arms!” Krugman has been among the most vocal proponents of an entrenched partisanship on the left and, therefore, one of the most consistent Democratic critics of Obama. See, for example, his most recent NYT column here.)

What these cries miss, however, is while politics clearly has its competitive side, it is importantly different from other forms of competition. In sports, for example, the aim is simply to defeat one’s opponent. Score more points than the other team, win the game, and go home. Similarly, the goal on the battlefield is to overwhelm, if not eliminate, the enemy. Even if humanitarian impulses have brought one to the point of armed conflict, the rule of combat is always the same: Kill or be killed.

In politics, on the other hand, one presumably does not want to vanquish the enemy. Democrats and Republicans may be in a contest for votes during election cycles and they may at times compete for victory in battles over legislation on Capital Hill. But in political victories, we do not eliminate our opposition and we cannot just go home, never having to think about them until the next game rolls around. Rather, political adversaries must live with their opponents. Indeed, if they are motivated by anything other than naked ambition, they will want the best for their opponents and will think that to defeat them is, in a roundabout way, to serve them well.

If this is view of politics does not always hold among the politicians themselves, then it would seem to obtain more widely among the public. We may disagree violently with our friends and relatives. But what we want is for them to agree with us—to come over to our side. We do not, one desperately hopes, want for them to be eliminated. And if we do genuinely hate our opposition (or at least think that we do), it is probably because all of our friends think like us. Ideological uniformity makes it easier to demonize those with whom we disagree.

When fierce partisanship begins to sound too militaristic, it therefore becomes difficult to reconcile with our day-to-day lives and Obama has tapped into this reality better than any politician in recent memory. While sticking firmly to the conviction that his vision for the country is superior to that of his political rivals, he has recognized that defeating the Republicans in November, or Hillary Clinton in the primary, is not the same as conquering a dangerous foe. We must lead our lives alongside those with whom we disagree and figuring out how best to do that, while simultaneously working toward the ends we believe to be important, should always be on the minds of those in power.

To be sure, the simple fact that a candidate recognizes the importance of this task is not a sufficient reason to vote for that candidate. But it is a reason not to belittle the effort.

Endnotes are Immoral

2008-03-03T11:17:00.002-05:00

I see no justifiable reason for using endnotes (as opposed to footnotes), especially in books that are rather lengthy. Why force someone to flip several hundred pages to find a reference or comment when you can put that reference or comment at the bottom of the page and make it available in the quickest of glances? The only possible reasons I can think of are: (1) footnotes somehow disrupt the flow of reading and (2) straightforward sadism. I find (1) wildly implausible. If you don't care about the reference or comment, then don't read it. Problem solved. That leaves (2). And since sadism is immoral, then so are endnotes. QED

"We Elect People, Not Position Papers"

2008-02-27T16:30:00.000-05:00

Back in my post endorsing Obama and McCain, I make the sloganish remark that "we elect people to be president, not position papers." A reason why I think this approach to voting is important was highlighted after last night's Democratic debate. Chris Matthews asked Andrea Mitchell for her analysis of the proceedings and in so doing, made the comment that in all likelihood, the most significant issue facing our next president had not been discussed during the debate. Why? Because none of us know exactly what that issue will be.

The world is too crazy a place to be able to predict what will happen in the next four to eight years and the odds are that some completely unforeseen events will serve to define the next presidency. Roosevelt didn't know that Pearl Harbor would be bombed; Kennedy couldn't have predicted the Cuban Missile Crisis; and W sure couldn't have expected 9/11. But all of those presidencies were profoundly shaped by those events.

Examining the positions of candidates can only get us so far in predicting how they will handle various situations mostly because you only really know how you are going to handle a situation once you are in it. It is far better--if somewhat more difficult--for us to get a feel for how they approach and think through issues than it is to get their canned responses to an array of hypothetical scenarios or a laundry list detailing their policy agendas.

Of course, as Maureen Dowd pointed out a couple of weeks ago, even these judgments may not always bear fruit in terms of wise governing. People sometimes act contrary to our best assessments of who they are and all of us are, in various ways, in conflict with ourselves. The truly and completely integrated and consistent person is a figment of our imagination. But even if it can't secure us certainty about how the future will go, I think this kind of reflection is the most promising and prudent way forward.

Working Environments

2008-02-25T20:51:00.004-05:00

I enjoyed my walk into work even more than usual this morning. The weather wasn't particularly nice but something about the stately UVA grounds made me feel particularly academic--like I was in a place where important and interesting stuff is happening. This feeling isn't all that unusual for me. Walking The Lawn is an impressive experience and I feel lucky to be able to do it most every day. (Incidentally, I had a similar privilege at UW-Madison when I lived in the dorms and could walk along Lake Mendota or over Bascom Hill to class.)

I think there is something important about the environments in which we work. Architecture and ambiance go a long way toward putting us in the right frame of mind to do what we have to do. Cookie-cutter buildings filled with cubicles are just bad places to read Plato or to think about the problem of personal identity. Much better to be in a place where extensive attention has been paid to creating an explicitly academic community. On the other hand, if you are aiming for a different kind of work, then perhaps a more industrial feeling place will be exactly what you want. Maybe it's better for number crunchers to labor under the hum of harsh fluorescent lighting.

Something similar probably applies to the ways we dress. On my long days in the office, I try to dress a bit nicer than usual. It's a way of putting myself in a frame of mind to take what I am doing seriously. It's also why there is something to be said for a certain kind of "academic uniform" for teachers and professors. Dressing for the occasion helps us embody the role we are playing more fully since, rightly or wrongly, students are going to take what we say more seriously if we are wearing a sport coat than if we are wearing a hooded sweatshirt. My guess is that we will probably be taking ourselves more seriously as well.

This isn't to suggest that there are any absolute standards about these things. What constitutes "nicely dressed" changes over time and just because someone is wearing a suit doesn't mean that he's nicely dressed. (Trust me. There are plenty of professors around here to prove that point.) But maybe it does mean that it's okay to think intentionally about these matters and that the process of crafting a public persona isn't necessarily extraneous to our vocational goals.

Music Therapy

2008-02-22T15:55:00.005-05:00

I apologize in advance for the self-indulgent tone of this post but I'm feeling a bit surly today. Maybe it's the fact that I spent much of the day today working on another round of job applications while two other colleagues (for whom I am genuinely happy) recently accepted desirable positions. Or maybe it's the fact that my perfect sweet little daughter has to deal with physical therapy because (for whatever reason) her gross motor skills just aren't progressing the way they should. Or maybe it's just because there are so many bloviating idiots in the world who say such ridiculously stupid, self-serving, and ill-considered things--all under the guise of caring about justice and the common good.

On days like this, I sometimes wonder where I'd be without music. I suspect that people who are prone to internalization and excessive reflection have difficulty knowing what to do with their surliness. We don't like talking about our feelings, perhaps because we don't really know how to identify them or even how to talk about them. And I suspect that this is even more the case with men who, as I have been convinced by this book (which should be required reading for all parents of boys), aren't equipped with the necessary emotional vocabulary to be able to do the requisite purging. So we either internalize further and further--which makes us miserable and more surly--or we act out in unhealthy ways, hurting others we don't intend to hurt.

But what I've found is that one days like today, music often provides the vocabulary that I can't articulate for myself. I feel markedly better after listening to just the right song--and not happy songs that are designed to inspire and uplift. I'm talking about angry surly songs that express that anger and surliness through the music in a way that mere words cannot (or at least which I am incapable of expressing through mere words). Today, listening through a live version of Dave Matthews Band's "Don't Drink the Water," Linkin Park's "Hands Held High," and some old-school Pearl Jam seems to be just the therapy I need. Surly songs to express my surliness and I feel much better.

Campaign Annoyances

2008-02-20T09:31:00.003-05:00

A couple strands of campaign rhetoric have been bugging me as of late. (Of course, more than a couple have been bugging me but a couple have been bugging me in particular.)

The first is all of the credit/blame that the various campaigns seem to get for the performance of their respective candidates. If a candidate performs well (or poorly), much of the talk turns to campaign strategy and what could have been done differently to secure a better result.

The problem with all of this is that it leaves out the fact that the voters decide who wins and who loses these things. It isn't like sports where if you play better than your opponent, you win the contest. You might do everything right in a political campaign and still lose because, to put it bluntly, the voters just don't like you (or, gasp, might not think you'd be a very good president). So Rudy gets creamed in Florida (which, let's face it, was a stupid strategy) and much of the discussion is about what he could have done differently to secure the nomination. The right answer to that, it seems to me, is "be a different person." At the end of the day, people just didn't buy him as president, or at least thought there were vastly preferable options out there. I wish the pundits (and candidates) would give us some credit and recognize that substance, rather than strategy, is a pretty important political commodity.

My second complaint is related. I expect some pity for Hillary in the coming days that will run along the following lines: She deserves to be president. She's put in her time. She's smart as hell. She endured humiliation from Bill with admirable dignity. Now she's missed her shot--what she's worked for her entire life.

The problem here is that no one deserves to be president and if being president is what you've worked your whole life to become, you better be prepared to be disappointed. All of the comments may be true. But if you have the misfortune to make your presidential run at the same time as Barack Obama, then it doesn't matter how qualified you are. It's just not your time. (And by the way, after listening to him speak last night in Texas, I really don't see any way he doesn't win in November. Unless some big scandal breaks--and I mean that it comes to light that he tortures poodles for fun and sells human livers on the black market and gets $1 million a year from big tobacco--it may even be a landslide.)

Another sports analogy seems appropriate here. If Phil Mickelson had been born at a different time, he may have been the best golfer of his generation. He just had the misfortune to come along in the Tiger Woods era. On a certain level, that may stink for Phil. But that's the game these guys get into. There are no guarantees in sports or politics and if you can't handle that, you should probably do something else.

Let's all promise not to feel too bad for Hillary.

Book Notes: "The Summing Up" (no. 1)

2008-02-13T21:57:00.001-05:00

One of the things I'd like to do in the resurrected version of this blog is use this space to register some thoughts about the various books that I'm reading. The hope is that formalizing my reactions will help me to retain more of what I read. Plus, having a searchable repository of such writing might allow me to draw on it for more formal projects down the road. What I have in mind are not full-length reviews of the books but rather a space to air reactions and thoughts that are inspired by what I'm reading. In any case . . .

I'm working my way through W. Somerset Maugham's The Summing Up, a quasi-memoir that deals less with the the ins and outs of his life and concentrates much more on the craft of writing and his growth and development as a writer. I find, thus far, that much of what he says resonates with my own take on what constitutes good writing (as well as how to achieve it). But thus far, he has said one thing that doesn't sit quite as well. When discussing what he takes to be the chief causes of unclarity in writing, he says:

Another cause of obscurity is that the writer himself is not quite sure of his meaning. He has a vague impression of what he wants to say, but has not, either from lack of mental power or from laziness, exactly formulated it in his mind, and it is natural enough that he should not find a precise expression for a confused idea. This is due largely to the fact that many writers think, not before, but as they write. The pen originates the thought. The disadvantage of this, and indeed it is a danger against which the author must always be on his guard, is that there is a sort of magic in the written word. The idea acquires substance by taking on a visible nature, and then stands in the way of its own clarification. But this sort of obscurity merges very easily into the willful (p. 24).

Now I know precisely the kind of thing Maugham has in mind since it is prevalent in undergraduate philosophy papers (as well as much "postmodern theology", literary theory, and, to be fair, a good deal of academic writing in general). The idea seems to be that just because words are formulated into things that look like sentences, and can therefore be recited aloud in something resembling a language, a cogent thought must be present--indeed, a thought worth pondering and mulling over. And if one has trouble determining exactly what a giving string of words means, then the problem is assumed to lie with the reader--perhaps the thought is just too deep for simple minds to comprehend.

I take it that this is what Maugham means when he talks about the "magic" that some take to reside in the written word. Even the most muddled of thoughts seem to take on a life of their own when they are put down on paper. One can take on scores of acolytes simply in virtue of having written something. Fair enough. Point taken and heartily agreed with.

But there is another sense in which I think the written word does have a kind of magical quality--a quality that makes it almost impossible to think clearly without the possibility of writing. There is something about straining to put one's thoughts in written form and then seeing them mirrored back to oneself that begins a progression towards deeper and clearer thought. I do not know how many times I have had experiences of the following sort:

1. I thought I knew what I wanted to say but in the process of writing, realized I didn't.
2. I wasn't sure exactly what I wanted to say but in the process of writing, discovered the thoughts for which I had been searching.
3. I wasn't sure what I wanted to say and the process of writing helped me realize that there was still something rolling around in my head but I hadn't quite gotten it yet.

I think that the mistake is in thinking that writing is always a final product. If one treats it that way, and therefore thinks that just because one puts words on paper, one is done with the process, then one is likely to end up with incomprehensible muddle. But when certain acts of writing are viewed as integral to the process of thinking, then the written word does take on a kind of magic.

If this is right, then it means that we have to think differently about different kinds of writing. I would not always want to commit myself fully to things I say in this blog, for example. Posts here are, quite often, writings at the earlier stages of thought. On the other hand, when I send off a paper to be published in a journal, then ideally, the process should be further along.

Google's Hegemony

2008-02-12T15:49:00.001-05:00

I realized today that my life is becoming increasingly bound up with all things Google. I use Gmail (and have for some time); this blog is hosted by Google; my personal web page is hosted by Google; and today I activated a Google Calendar account as an experiment in organization. I'm not sure how much I will use it. But it seems like it could be a useful program for me.

Now I like all of these products. Gmail is fantastic: it does a great job filtering spam; I love the interface; the use of labels rather than folders is ingenious; and I love being able run a quick search to locate old e-mails. The personal web page site allowed me to make a professional looking website easily and quickly (while knowing next to nothing about the technology/programming aspect of things). And Blogger is, on the whole, a clean and easy program to use as well. Once they get comment spam under control--and perhaps offer a wider range of templates and design options--it will be even better.

The question I have is whether I should be at all wary of putting all these eggs in the Google basket, particularly given the fact that it is all information that is stored somewhere besides my home computer. Basic privacy concerns are, of course, one issue and there is the question of what might happen in the event of a catastrophic infrastructure meltdown. But are there other problems posed by organizing so much of my life around one entity? Maybe not, given the apparent strength of the company. But something about it makes me a feel a bit uneasy--like I need to diversify as a way of covering my tail.

Righteous Indignation is Tired

2008-02-08T20:22:00.000-05:00

This kind of incident is getting old. Someone makes an off-the-cuff comment in slightly poor taste and the offended party (a) takes the most uncharitable interpretation of the comment possible, (b) acts like the sole intent of the remark was to assassinate their character, (c) flails about as though their holiness has been forever tarnished and (d) makes sure that they attract as much sympathy and attention to themselves as they possibly can.

Could David Shuster have chosen his words more carefully? Probably. "Pimped out" is a bit too slangy and he should have known that using such a phrase would likely ruffle some feathers. But come on. He was, as I see it, asking a perfectly legitimate question about how the Clinton campaign was using Chelsea.

Here's a straightforward translation of what he was trying to ask: "Does it seem a bit strange to you that the Clinton campaign is using someone of Chelsea's caliber to make these groveling kind of phone calls to super-delegates?" In this context, "pimped out" just refers to the relatively base act that she was being put forward to do--to my mind, a perfectly good figurative description. He most certainly was not calling Chelsea a prostitute and any insinuation that he was is offensive. Maybe not as offensive as Romney's blatant pandering at CPAC yesterday; but pretty offensive.

The Clinton reaction is like those Euro soccer players to get touched and flop around on the ground like they are having seizures just to see if they can get a penalty called. And if the Clinton campaign is offended that I'm calling them Eurotrash soccer players, they are going to have to deal with it.

Does Osama bin-Laden Need a Publicist?

2008-02-07T10:54:00.000-05:00

I couldn't resist linking to this amazing headline from the USA Today. Apparently the move is to a kindler, gentler al-Quaeda?

Amnesties Aren't All Created Equal

2008-02-06T21:41:00.000-05:00

"Amnesty" seems to be the big buzz word surrounding the immigration debate. No one wants to be accused of endorsing amnesty for illegal immigrants and politicians go through ridiculous verbal contortions in an effort to show that their proposals do not amount such an endorsement.

I take the motivation behind these efforts to be a desire to avoid the appearance of condoning illegal behavior. If we allow those who are in the country illegally to stay, and perhaps even become citizens, then we are in effect saying that what they did wasn't really wrong. Without sanctions, we're letting criminals get off easy and no one wants to admit to letting criminals get off easy.

(There are, of course, other issues involved in this debate. National security and more than a little xenophobia would seem to top the list. But if those were the only concerns driving the discussion, it isn't clear why there would be such an emphasis on amnesty. That specific focus thus seems to have a unique source and I'm positing that it is the worry that we are condoning things we shouldn't be condoning. I'm open to other suggestions.)

But at the risk of being trite, there's amnesty and then there's amnesty. We all acknowledge a distinction between actions that would be morally wrong even if they were not illegal and actions that are morally wrong (if they are) only because they are illegal. Murder is the clearest example of the former while underage drinking would probably be a good example of the latter. Our moral understanding of murder is not at all affected by our legal statutes. Rather, the statutes are a reflection of our understanding of the evil of murder. On the other hand, when a 19 year-old German drinks a beer in his home country, most of us probably aren't morally outraged.

Now amnesty for a murderer would certainly be something to be wary of since it could amount to excusing an act of profound evil. But while amnesty for an underage drinker may sometimes be unwise or imprudent, it can never amount to an excuse of the same kind of evil as amnesty for murderers. If it is immoral, it is only so because it violates laws we've chosen to enact.

The question is whether amnesty for illegal immigrants is more like amnesty for murder or amnesty for underage drinking--not necessarily in terms of their importance as matters of public policy but in terms of where we think that importance comes from: the laws we make to serve the prudential interests of the nation or the intrinsic wrongness of the action. Once this distinction is brought into view, maybe the prospect of amnesty for illegal immigrants won't be treated as such a morally troubling prospect.

Super Tuesday Endorsements: Obama and McCain

2008-02-05T10:17:00.000-05:00

Emending My Mind endorses Barack Obama and John McCain in the presidential primaries.

Let me preface my remarks by noting my belief that any of the four remaining candidates would make good presidents, all markedly better than the current holder of that office. Hillary Clinton has an impressive mastery of policy issues and a political toughness that is a necessary condition for success in the White House. Some of her views and actions might warrant criticism. But the vitriolic hatred of her in some quarters is, I think, completely misplaced and unfounded (on which, see here). If elected, she would govern well and with the best interests of the country firmly in mind.

While Romney panders a bit too much to satisfy the Republican base--and would be the most likely of the remaining candidates to continue the policies of the current administration--he has a demonstrated competence as an executive. This gives me some measure of confidence that his decisions would be well thought out and that his governing style, if somewhat managerial, could be effective. Moreover, I think his claim that a Washington outsider might make some progress in fixing Washington has merit. The view doesn't seem to have panned out for Bush 43 but it arguably did for Clinton 42.

Despite these strengths, the alternatives in each party more fully merit our support. From my perspective, three main issues are paramount in this election: (1) restoring the image and credibility of America abroad, (2) getting our nation's finances in order, and (3) navigating a course for the nation that isn't held hostage to narrow partisan interests. On all three of these criteria, Obama and McCain score better than their rivals.

Obama has the unparalleled rhetorical ability to inspire the country toward a more non-partisan course and I think his willingness to talk to our enemies is an important step toward re-securing American credibility. Moreover, as James Fallows recently pointed out, we should not underestimate the effect on other nations of having a dark skinned president. People in Africa and Asia may very well be more receptive to a foreign leader who (perhaps somewhat surprisingly, to them) looks "like that" than they might be to a tough-talking white Texan. I suspect that of all the candidates, he would be the best spokesperson for the United States. Obama's ability to clean America's financial house remains to be seen but his discussion of removing tax cuts for the highest income brackets at least indicates an awareness that the status quo is completely unacceptable.

Few politicians have shown more clearly than John McCain that they are not afraid to break away from their party when they believe it is right to do so and few politicians have railed as consistently as McCain against the wasteful spending habits of Congress. With the power of a presidential veto, one hopes that he would be able to trim some significant fat off our nation's budget and move us toward a more secure financial footing. One admittedly wonders about how McCain would be in his capacity as an ambassador to the world. His hawkish tendencies could certainly be off-putting. Nevertheless, I think he has a concern for America's role in the world and, as may be indicated by his proposals regarding immigration, does not want that role to be adversarial unless it has to be.

Don't mistake my emphases. Policy agendas do matter and neither candidate should be allowed to slide by with a lack of specificity on how they propose to handle various issues: immigration, taxes, the war in Iraq, health care, judges, etc. However, we elect people to be president, not position papers. The kinds of people we are electing--their characteristic mode of engaging with other, of approaching issues and solving problems--is at least as important as their legislative agendas, if not more so. To be sure, a choice between Obama and McCain would be a choice between two very different men. But in facing that choice, the country would have to choose between two quality individuals who could make fine presidents. Exactly how fine is up to them.

Talk Radio and the Right

2008-02-04T16:24:00.000-05:00

Talk radio has its panties in a bunch about the possibility of a McCain nomination. There is a lot that is interesting about this. But two things strike me as particularly significant.

First, a McCain victory could put to rest the notion, trumpeted loud and often, that conservative talk radio "best represents the views of mainstream Americans." If card carrying Republicans--to say nothing of Independents or conservative Democrats--go out and vote for McCain in spite of the hand wringing of Limbaugh, Hannity, et. al., then I suspect they won't be able to make that claim with any credibility any more. All the evidence will be that they represent a minority/fringe point of view. (Of course, taken by itself, that doesn't mean they're wrong. It just means that they can't make the case for their views in the way that they want.)

Second, this phenomenon raises interesting questions about how much influence talk radio has. Apparently, just because millions of people listen to Rush, doesn't mean they are taking their cues about what to believe from him. On the other hand, if the race swings toward Romney in the next few weeks, maybe they really are able to persuade their audiences about what to do.

Tiger Watch

2008-02-04T12:45:00.000-05:00

Somewhat lost in the midst of Super Bowl madness is the fact that Tiger won his second tournament of the year yesterday in Dubai. All it took was five birdies over his last seven holes--including the last two. Tiger says he thinks his game is finally getting there. Hmmm. I think he's probably right.

At this rate, he's going to rack up nine or ten victories in 2008 and I wouldn't be at all surprised if he does.

Long Elections

2008-01-31T19:48:00.000-05:00

In general, I'm of the mind that the election process in the U.S., particularly when it comes to presidential elections, is way too long. Whoever ends up winning in November will, in effect, have been running for a year and a half. That means that the news coverage, speculation, analysis, polling, etc., have all been going on for longer than that. Given the fact that all these people have other jobs, is this really the best way for them to be spending their time? Shouldn't they be worried about being senators, congresspeople, and governors (or even hedge fund managers or security firm owners)? And don't even mention the copious amounts of money all this takes.

I still think the election cycle is probably too long (and definitely way too expensive). But I'm coming around to the view that there is an important value in longer election cycles.

Presidential elections are when we have our most vigorous, lively, and substantive, public debates. Most of the time, political debate is confined to the halls of congress, talk radio (if that even constitutes debate), and the occasional water cooler and dinner party conversation (depending on where one works and who one invites over for dinner).

But when we are trying to elect a president, issues of political philosophy and public policy get pushed out into the open and dominate more of our time and attention. They drive the debates between the candidates and, in turn, drive much of the debate among the public as we try to determine how best to vote. Sure, there's often a lot of noise that has to be filtered in order to get to the substance and plenty of us have already made up our minds before the whole thing even gets going. But if the primary results thus far are any indication, there are plenty of us who haven't. And for us, a lengthier election cycle is a unique opportunity to reflect with others on core issues of justice.

Let me put it another way. If the value of elections was determined solely by the degree to which they helped us pick our leaders, then I think there would be a presumption in favor of much shorter election cycles. We really don't need a year and a half to decide how we are going to vote. But if I'm right, the value of elections isn't reducible to this. There is an important value in carrying on an extended national conversation about where we want the country to go and how we can best achieve those goals. Of course, this conversation culminates in the selection of a president. But the value of the process can't be reduced to the value of the choice that it leads to.

Incidentally, this gives credence to the view that there is a value in certain presidential bids that are sure to fail--i.e., the Dennis Kuciniches and Ron Pauls of the world. If their campaigns were valuable only insofar as they had a legitimate chance to be elected, then they are clearly wasting their time, energy, and money. But if they are able to shape and contribute to the broader discourse, then perhaps their efforts are worthy after all.

Gearing Up Again?

2008-01-30T21:44:00.000-05:00

It's been forever since I last thought about blogging. While I was in the thickest part of dissertation writing, I had no spare words to devote to something like this. If I had something to say, it damn well better be about something relevant to my dissertation. And if it was relevant to my dissertation, then I should be writing it as part of my dissertation, not something relatively frivolous and self-indulgent, like a blog. But as of late, I've been feeling the urge to air a few thoughts--maybe it's hearing a good friend of mine airing out more than his share--and this seems exactly the forum in which to do it. So we'll see what happens (and if anyone notices).

Love, Hope, and Beauty

2006-08-22T21:12:00.000-04:00

The post over at Common Grounds a couple of days ago struck a particular chord with me and so I commend it to you. It's simply a reproduction of Rick Reilly's back page column from Sports Illustrated. Reilly is a great writer and has a knack for mixing straight sports-talk, humor, and truly moving human interest stories in a way that few people are able to do. Most sports writers are good at only one of these talents and when they try to mix up their game, it just doesn't work. Reilly is the exception that proves the rule and this column is an excellent example of why.

(What follows assumes that you've read the article.)

I've reflected a lot recently about why stories like this affect me so deeply. At one level, I'm sure it has to do with the fact that I'm a parent now. I know it's a cliche but I definitely think there are some things you can't really understand until you have children of your own. It's the only relationship most of us have where someone is entirely dependent upon us, has done nothing to earn our love, and whom we nevertheless love more purely than anyone else in the world. Such a dynamic opens up emotions and insights that it's hard to get otherwise.

That being said, I think there's something more general about the Hoyts that makes their example so moving. On the one hand, it's a case where something is so clearly not the way it's supposed to be. Children aren't supposed to be born with brain damage. Something as flukey as having the umbilical cord wrapped around your neck isn't supposed to have such dire consequences for one's life. Rick did nothing to deserve this fate and yet he's stuck with it. If there is such a thing as a senseless tragedy, this would seem to be a pretty good candidate.

But the feelings of sadness and anger that might be aroused by Rick's plight are immediately confronted with something that is so profoundly and beautifully right: a father's love for, and devotion to, his son. Sure, in this case, that love leads to particularly impressive accomplishments: Dick has run exactly 24 more Boston Marathons than I ever will. But I'm sure he doesn't think about the accomplishments at all. They are a complete afterthought--a mere means to the end of making his son happy.

I think it's this juxtaposition of dissatisfaction and beauty that give stories like this their universal appeal. They touch our deepest longings in a way that no philosophical or theological argument can and lead us to hope for a time when "death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away" (Rev. 21:4).

Ditto

2006-08-20T19:54:00.000-04:00

I was going to write an analysis of the PGA Championship this evening but I realized that I've already said everything that needs to be said in my comments on the British Open. If you replace "Royal Liverpool" with "Medinah No. 3" and scratch the part about someone stepping up and punching Tiger in the mouth (nobody did today), then things played out pretty much the same today as they did a month ago.

As I see it, the tournament was over on the middle of the back nine yesterday. If someone was going to make a move, they needed to do it then. Tiger has never lost a major championship when he was tied for, or in, the lead after 54 holes and that wasn't about to happen today. Phil Mickelson is probably the only person in the world with the talent to battle it out with Tiger toe-to-toe. But his long game has been too erratic of late for him to really be a factor this week and I'm not sure he has fully recovered from his U. S. Open debacle. He will. But it might take some time away from the game in the off-season for him to get back to where he was.

I have two overarching thoughts about Tiger's recent dominance. First, it would be fantastic for golf if a true rival emerged for Tiger. I am convinced that Jack Nicklaus only achieved the greatness he did because he had a series of rivals--some of whom beat him on occasion: Palmer, Player, Trevino, Watson. Competitive greatness involves being tested--even losing--and then seeing what you are made of. In some ways, I'm not sure we really know what Tiger is made of since he's never come up short in these kinds of situations.

Second, I don't think it's too much of an overstatement to say that right now Tiger Woods may be as good at what he does as anyone has ever been at what they do. And I'm not just talking about sports. I'm talking about anything that anyone has ever put their mind to do. I don't think Einstein was as good of a scientist or Monet as good of a painter as Tiger is a golfer right now. Even if you don't like golf, I hope you can appreciate the nature of his excellence. It's truly remarkable.

Ambition

2006-08-07T16:52:00.000-04:00

Recently I've become aware that there are some things that I just don't care about. Included in this list are things like "making a difference," "doing something of significance," "having an impact," and "changing the world." Had you asked me ten (or even five) years ago whether I wanted my life to include these things, I'm pretty sure that I would have said yes. Granted, it would have been in my chosen sphere of influence. I would have wanted to write books or teach or engage in ministry that changed the way people think and lived their lives. I probably have thought in terms of how I could use my gifts and talents so as to have the greatest possible impact on the world around me.

Not that there was anything particularly self-serving or arrogant about these thoughts. It was, I think, a question of responsibility and the idea that we should all do something with our lives that "really matters." But as of late, I find it very difficult to think in such terms. "Changing the world" and getting out there to "make a difference" just don't make it onto my "to do" list anymore.

This isn't to say that I don't care about things. There are many things that I care about much more than I used to. Since I've been a parent, I've been far more concerned about matters political than I ever was before: about poverty, war, famine, disease, educational policy, the national debt, and yes, even the stock market.

I care deeply about what kind of person my son grows up to be: that he is honest, humble, compassionate, that he isn't lazy, that he finds a vocation that engages his passions, that he has friends whom he loves and who love him in return, and that he still wants to hang out with me when he's sixteen.

I care about my wife: that she is happy and able to fulfill her goals, and that I might play a role in helping her do those things.

I care about my parents and my sister and how great the time is that we are able to spend together.

I care more about my friends, especially those I am unable to see very often. As Cory recently said, "Life takes friends. It is fuller, richer, and more beautiful than life lived in isolation, or with mere acquaintances." Amen.

I care more about having fun and laughing and about simple pleasures: good beer, good wine, good movies and music, college football on Saturday afternoons, stolen time on the golf course, or watching the back nine of a major championship.

I still care deeply about truth and about the integrity of my work. If no one ever cites my papers or books, I'll be fine. If I never hold a named chair at Oxford or Harvard, my life won't be one wit less successful. But if people don't believe that I am trying to address issues that are truly important as honestly and tenaciously as I can, then maybe I'm not doing something right. And relatedly, I care about getting my students to think beyond themselves and to see the importance of thinking critically about philosophical questions. I don't care if I'm the greatest teacher they've ever had. I do care that they don't think they've wasted their time in my class.

To some, this shift might signal a loss of ambition, as though I've ceased to care about leaving my mark on the world. Fair enough. If that is what ambition is, then I'm couldn't be less ambitious. If living a life of significance means having one's own wikipedia page, then count me out of the realm of significance. I just don't care. On the other hand (and in case you couldn't tell, here's where I come down), maybe it means that I'm starting to have things in proper perspective--that I'm maturing, gaining a better sense of what things are really important, and finally learning how to live the life that God intended all of us to live.

Just Too Good

2006-07-23T19:16:00.000-04:00

The massive shootout I'd hoped to see today at the British Open never really developed. Instead, Tiger dissected Royal Liverpool with surgical precision on the way to his 11th professional major championship. It was a scene golf fans have seen play out many many times over the past eight years. Somebody in the field gains a bit of momentum--today it was Chris DiMarco--and you think that they just might be able to make a charge, pull it out and manage to slay the dragon.

The problem is that Tiger just doesn't make mistakes when he's in the lead. Instead he hits 4-irons to six feet and makes birdie, crushing everyone else's hope in the process.

There have been a few people who have stepped up and punched Tiger in the mouth: Sergio Garcia and Bob May have done it at the PGA and DiMarco did it last year at the Masters. But all those challenges have ended the same way: with Tiger hoisting the trophy or putting on the jacket. Until someone tracks him down on Sunday afternoon and actually beats him, it looks like the only person who can truly beat Tiger is Tiger.

Life Gets in the Way

2006-07-22T22:07:00.000-04:00

I've been hard at work on my dissertation the past two weeks and while I've churned out some pages, as of yesterday afternoon I was ready to scrap everything and move on to a new topic. The pieces just aren't fitting together how I want them to and I still haven't figured out exactly how to frame the project (which is basically the same as not having figured out exactly what I want to say). As it happened, I woke up this morning and had an idea of how I might proceed. (And yes. It happened just like that. I woke up and somewhere between getting Gideon out of bed and making coffee downstairs, it came to me.) It remains to be seen if this really ends up helping me turn a corner but however it ultimately turns out, I feel a bit more energized going into next week.

And energy is what I need. People who know me know that I don't really like house projects. They take too much time and disrupt calm and order--two things I really do like. But last week I finally resolved to try and fix the outside spigot (which has been broken for a year and a half). Fixing the portion that was broken was pretty easy. It was attaching the new spigot to the house and stopping a super-slow (and super-annoying) leak in the new set-up that proved to be a serious pain in the neck. Three trips to the hardware store later, and everything was running perfectly (and Tisha finally had a functioning hose outside).

That was Tuesday afternoon. On Wednesday, the garbage disposal went out and so I had another project--this one a bit more pressing because we couldn't run the dishwasher until I fixed it. So I got the disposal and installed it on Thursday night (which was also pretty easy). But when I reassembled all the other pipes, it turned out there was also a crack in the J-joint that comes out of the disposal. So instead of being done, I had another project on tap (no pun intended) for Saturday (because I couldn't afford not to get some writing done on Friday). Two trips to the hardware store later, and all is finally well and running perfectly.

I still resent the intrusion in my life. But I do appreciate the sense of accomplishment. And now I can sit back tomorrow and enjoy four hours of what should be a fantastic British Open finale without so much as a shred of guilt. Woods, Els, Garcia, DiMarco, and Furyk all within two shots of each other in my favorite tournament to watch on TV. It doesn't get much better.

Courting the Heretic--or how this blog got its name (Part 3 of 3)

2006-07-08T14:41:00.000-04:00

Some of the themes of The Courtier and the Heretic that I have been exploring are still kicking around in my head. Nevertheless, I think it's safe to close my official discussion of that book--and of Spinoza and Leibniz--since I'm not sure exactly how I want to explore those themes at this point. I reserve the right to bring them up at a later date. I know you will all be waiting.

On a related note, I had intended to comment on the source of the name of this blog some time ago and never did. For those of you who are interested, here goes. Emending my Mind is a play on the title of Spinoza's work, Treatise on the Emendation of the Intellect. The book covers his philosophical methodology and lays the groundwork for his entire metaphysical system. I was taken by the title--admittedly an English translation of the Latin but still as cool as it gets for book titles. dictionary.com defines "emend" as "to improve by critical editing" and the project of trying to systematically emend one's intellect struck me as a beautiful one.

Of course, some might say that it is self-interested and self-absorbed and maybe they are right. I certainly have moments of inappropriate self-interest and self-absorption. But I think Spinoza was simply hitting on the fact that we have all kinds of confused beliefs about the world and ourselves and that living the best life possible necessitates sorting through some of this confusion. Moreover, Spinoza was as much a political and social philosopher as he was a metaphysician and so he was profoundly concerned with the ways in which people interact with one another. So for him, emending one's mind is an important part of engaging with the world--not retreating from it.

In naming the blog as I did, I was just trying to acknowledge the muddle in my head--that I have false beliefs about a world that is often itself a profoundly confusing place--and that I'm trying to emend those beliefs so as to live the best life possible. This blog is just one of the places where I hope to be able to do that.

(Incidentally, I've since read Spinoza's Treatise and it remains to be seen whether it helped to emend my mind or simply contributed to the muddle.)

Viva la France!

2006-07-06T14:14:00.000-04:00

Contrary to some tongue-in-cheek comments made in my youth, I really don't hate soccer. I've been watching a fair bit of the World Cup lately and it's hard to deny the talent and athleticism that has been on display. To be able to use one's feet--fairly blunt instruments--to achieve such precise ends is really impressive. And as my dad pointed out, there are no fat soccer players--no one that you might look at and say, "That guy is a professional athlete?" in the way that you might in baseball (John Kruk? Bartolo Colon?) or golf (John Daly? Craig Stadler?).

I'm even okay with the fact that the U.S. isn't the best in the world at the sport. It's probably even a good thing. One can be patriotic and still recognize that other countries have strengths that we don't. It promotes a healthy national humility and an appreciation for the fact that other people love their countries and traditions too.

Still, there are a few sticking points that I just can't get past.

1. Why does the team awarded a penalty kick get to select who will take it? In yesterday's France-Portugal match, Zidane got to take the penalty kick even though he wasn't fouled. Ostensibly, a penalty kick is awarded because a foul in the box likely impedes what would have otherwise been a good scoring opportunity. But the guy who was fouled would have had the opportunity, not Zidane. So why does he get to take the shot? If Shaq is fouled in the act of shooting, the Heat don't get to have Dwayne Wade take the free throw. And in hockey, penalty shots are taken by the player who is fouled. Why is it different in soccer? I don't get it.

2. Way too much flopping and "writhing in excruciating pain" (a funny characterization of which can be found here.) I understand that drawing key fouls is an important part of a lot of sports. (Football and basketball are surely no exceptions here.) But the degree of acting in soccer is so obvious and ridiculous that it's distracting. I don't know how many times I've seen someone carted off in a stretcher looking like he might never walk again, only to be sprinting back onto the field in 30 seconds. The one thing that soccer has going for it is that you can get a yellow card for flopping. They should use that penalty more liberally and give it retroactively for overacting as well.

3. There should be at least two referees per game and probably three (in addition to the linesmen). All other major sports have more referees and those officials have far less ground to cover than soccer referees. Too often the soccer referee has to make a call that he can't possibly have seen clearly enough to make. Why that should be is beyond me.

In any case, I told my friend Jared that I'd root for France since he is currently living in Paris and I thought it would be cool for him to be part of the victory celebration. So, "Viva la France!"

Back to the grind (but not really)

2006-07-03T21:03:00.000-04:00

We're back in Charlottesville after almost a month in Ohio and Wisconsin. The time away was great. We got to see some good friends that we haven't seen in a while and have a lot of fun with family.

The pureness of the vacation was affected somewhat by the death of my paternal grandmother who passed away while we were in Wisconsin. She had been in steadily declining health in recent years and took a turn for the worse in the past couple of months. For us, the timing was fortuitous. I got to see Grandma one more time before she passed away--despite being a bit out of it, she immediately recognized me and Gideon--and we were able to be with my parents, sister, aunts, uncles, and cousins in the days before and after the funeral. We hadn't seen her in two years so the fact that she died on our independently-planned vacation felt more than a little providential. I'm probably still processing the whole experience so you may hear more about it in the coming weeks.

In any case, today began my "six weeks of productivity"--the time before Tisha goes back to work when I can devote long stretches of the day to my dissertation. Unlike my good friend Cory, who is a childless high school teacher and can therefore wile away his summers, summers are prime work time for academics, especially graduate students who are trying to graduate in May. Not that I'm complaining (or envious, Cory, really). I have less of a real job than most anyone I know (who isn't also a graduate student) and I have been looking forward to this opportunity for quite a while.

I was ready to throw my computer in the lake a few weeks ago: the thoughts and the writing were slow and nothing seemed to be fitting together. Before we left Ohio for Wisconsin, I finally decided to table all thought about the dissertation until we made it back to Virginia and that seems to have helped my perspective. This morning, I was looking forward to working again and my assessment of what I had already written was markedly better than it was in early June (though I still have a long way to go).

I'll have to build up my writing stamina over the next few days so that I can make the most of the time that I have. Since I'm used to having blocks of only a couple of hours that are strewn throughout the week, an eight hour day feels like an eternity to think and write. It's a nice problem to have, though, and I 'm looking forward to solving it.

Courting the Heretic (Part 2 of more than 2)

2006-06-22T16:21:00.000-04:00

Over the past few weeks, I've come to think that the central difference in temperament between Leibniz and Spinoza can be characterized as the difference between an apologist and a philosopher. For the apologist, conclusions are already clear and the goal is to find arguments that support those conclusions. As a result, the apologist doesn't really engage in inquiry in the sense of trying to figure out how things are. Rather, he engages in the process of trying to justify the beliefs he already has about how things are.

Leibniz seems to have been an apologist in this sense. He had beliefs about the nature and existence of God, as well as the proper ordering of political society, and he attempted to justify these beliefs through various arguments. Unsurprisingly, not all of these arguments were good ones and so Leibniz's work tends to jump around a little bit--he flits about from argument to argument and tries to see what sticks.

The philosophical temperament, on the other hand, is much less likely to accept conclusions prior to an extended process of inquiry. Such inquiry does not have a predetermined outcome in view--if it did, there would be no reason to engage in it. The philosopher's views are therefore inclined to remain much more open and less clearly defined. It was in this sense that Spinoza was a philosopher as opposed to an apologist. He certainly had strong views and was very committed to his opinions. But one gets the impression that those views were the result of genuine inquiry and not predetermined prior to reflection.

This distinction is no doubt oversimplified. But I think it explains a good deal of my attraction to Spinoza (and corresponding disenchantment with Leibniz). While Spinoza's conclusions aren't ones that I find all that congenial, his philosophical temperament (as opposed to the apologetic stance of Leibniz) resonates much more deeply with me. Of course, I'm not sure that that is always a good thing. If I were, maybe I'd be more of an apologist.

What would you say?

2006-06-08T19:10:00.000-04:00

Those of you waiting with baited breath for further comments on Leibniz and Spinoza (and I know you are out there) will have to wait a little bit longer. We are in the middle of our June-long vacation and that means that not much work is getting done. And when not much work gets done, that means that even less blogging will get done (per the promise I made to myself in my inaugural post).

So, on a much different note, I went to a Dave Matthews Band concert last night. It rained and since we had lawn seats, we got pretty wet. But aside from the drunk guy who threatened to "snap my neck" and accused me of not having "learned to share in kindergarten" (just because I was trying to prevent him from starting a potentially dangerous stampede), a great time was had by all.

While I wouldn't categorize myself as a diehard DMB fan, I certainly enjoy their music. And since we've moved to C'Ville, there is a kind of hometown pride in their success. I've periodically spotted band members at local coffee shops and we regularly walk by (and periodically visit) the bar where they got there start.

Last night's show was worth the money and weather. In addition to the good music and time with family and friends, I came away with a certain satisfaction at the experience--a sense I can only describe as the satisfaction of seeing people do what they were obviously put on earth to do.

One might be critical of the recent turn in DMB's recorded work or even think (as my sister's boyfriend does) that not all of the band members put in the time and effort that they used to put into their craft. But I think one would be hard-pressed to argue that those guys aren't supremely in their element when they are playing music for people (in this case, close to 20,000 of them). I think it's relatively rare to find people who have found their calling in this way. But when I do, it sure is a beautiful thing to witness.

Courting the Heretic (Part 1 of more than 1)

2006-05-31T15:16:00.000-04:00

Since I've been in graduate school, I've developed the habit of reading a "pleasure book" upon the completion of a semester. The time-sensitive pressures of teaching and coursework don't allow me to read much that isn't directly related to either of those tasks. And since I'm usually burned out on philosophy by the time December or May roll around, reading something different is kind of a reward to myself for making it through. Usually the book ends up being something historical; occasionally it's a novel.

This spring, even though the reading was historical, I didn't manage to get very far from home since the history was a history centered around philosophy. The book was The Courtier and the Heretic by Matthew Stewart and it is an account of the lives, and eventual meeting, of two of the greatest philosophers of the modern period: Spinoza and Leibniz. It isn't an easy read for those without some philosophical background but it is beautifully written and tells quite a riveting story. (Of course, maybe it is just a sign of how much of a geek I am that I find it so riveting.)

Leibniz might be known to some of you as either the inventor of the calculus (he developed it independent of, but at roughly the same time as, Newton) or, for those of you in religious circles, the author of Theodicy (a work which was lambasted by Voltaire for its argument that despite all appearances to the contrary, we live in the best of all possible worlds). My guess is that none of you know much about Spinoza (shown at the left) even though he is one of the fathers of modern biblical criticism and one of the earliest theorists of the secular liberal state. If it did nothing else, I think The Courtier would be valuable for the way in which it tries to give Spinoza his rightful historical due.

What I found myself surprised by as the narrative unfolded was the way in which I grew to like Spinoza and basically dislike Leibniz even though I philosophically and theologically agree much more with Leibniz. I had expected precisely the opposite. As Stewart paints him, Leibniz was rather insecure and spent much of his life attempting to obtain money from various governmental officials so that he could devote himself to his work and live in considerable luxury.

Spinoza, on the other hand, supported himself as a lens grinder--a job which probably exacerbated the lung condition from which he died--and did his philosophical work at night. And despite being formally excommunicated from the Jewish community in Amsterdam for his beliefs (a relatively difficult thing to do) he was unwilling to revise his views in order to save face. By contrast, even though he fancied himself a great defender of the faith, Leibniz never seems to have gone to church or been at all personally pious.

The contrast has occasioned more than a little reflection: about the relationship between our personal character and our intellectual endeavors; about why I feel attracted to people of certain temperaments; and how all of that might fit together. In the next few posts, I'll be tracing out some of these themes.

Wright and Wittgenstein

2006-05-28T22:03:00.000-04:00

One of the things I'd like to do in this forum is note some reflections on books I read--not so much full-blown reviews as response essays that are prompted by my reading. Hopefully that will serve to cement those thoughts a bit more firmly in my mind so that I can have better access to them over time. In that vein . . .

Our small group just finished reading N.T. Wright's The Challenge of Jesus. There are many things to admire about the book, and Wright discusses a number of important issues that Christians would do well to consider. But for me, the abiding impact of the work will be in the worldly vision of Christianity that it lays out. In saying that Wright's vision is worldly, I mean only that it is profoundly centered on God's efforts to renew this world rather than encouraging us to retreat from it or war against it. And strangely enough, reflection on this (deceptively complex and multi-faceted) theme made me think of Wittgenstein.

Wittgenstein said that the postulation of life after death could not answer the problem of life's meaning because that problem would simply re-emerge in the next life. I think he was right. Moreover, I think that his point is one with which Christians should fervently agree.

In other words, it isn't a particularly Christian response to someone's crisis of meaning to point out that since he will live forever, there is really no need to be concerned--that the specter of pointlessness melts away in light of his perpetual existence. To begin with, those in the midst of such crises aren't likely to be comforted by the prospect of an eternity to ponder why they are here, as though the problem of a limited lifespan and the problem of meaning are one and the same. Even the possibility that that life might be one of considerable bliss doesn't really get to the heart of their concern. They want to know why they are here and what point life could possibly have period, regardless of when or where that life happens to be lived. In light of these thoughts, the idea that they are simply here so they can get somewhere else rings more than a little hollow.

Our lives require us to put so much effort into things--jobs, relationships, family, etc.--that the thought that none of that effort really matters (because, after all, meaning is to be found in the life beyond this one) is bound to generate despair rather than cure it. Is it psychologically possible to get up every morning and devote ourselves to pursuits that we believe to be meaningless? My guess is that more than a few suicides have resulted from exactly such a thought.

It is in addressing these concerns--common, I expect, in our day--that words like the following have a potential to transform that goes far beyond any appeal to immortality:

If you build on the foundation in the present time with gold, silver and precious stones, your work will last. In the Lord your labor is not in vain. You are not oiling the wheels of a machine that is soon going over a cliff. Nor, however, are you constructing the kingdom of God by your own efforts. You are following Jesus and shaping our world in the power of the Spirit; and when the final consummation comes, the work that you have done, whether in Bible study or biochemistry, whether in preaching or in pure mathematics, whether in digging ditches or in composing symphonies, will stand, will last (Challenge, 180-1).

Clearly, this quote only touches the surface and, indeed, Wright's book as whole only intends to touch the surface. But it presents a glimpse of a vision of life that will compel my attention for some time. Because if there is any chance that what I do every day will last--that it matters today and is not just something to do while I am waiting for "heaven"--I think that is something that deserves more than a passing moment's thought.

Getting Good Teachers

2006-05-25T14:04:00.000-04:00

Harry Brighouse, one of my (excellent) professors at UW-Madison and a regular contributor to Crooked Timber, has a post here on the relationship between gender equity in the job-market as a whole and the caliber of teacher that public schools are able to attract. He surmises that since the intelligent and capable women of previous generations did not have the option to pursue careers in, for example, medicine, business, or law, they were instead channeled into the classroom. Whether or not this was their first choice of profession, the results were good for students. If many exceptionally smart women, who can do just about anything they want, end up as teachers, it stands to reason that, on the whole, we end up with better teachers.

Now Brighouse isn't at all suggesting that we should close off opportunities for women just so that we can have better teachers. That would be, among other things, simply unjust. But his analysis is related to an issue of public policy that I have believed in for a long time, namely, that one of the most important things we need to do to improve public education in this country is to attract a "border class" of individuals into the teaching profession. Let me briefly (if not briefly enough) spell out what I mean.

I suspect that there will always be a class of individuals who choose to go into teaching because they feel called to it and would probably do it regardless of the working conditions. These are incredibly smart and capable people who could do most anything they choose but who get into teaching because it is something they believe in and love to do. I happen to know a good number of these people personally (I think some of them may even be reading this post) and let me just say that our world is a better place because they exist. They, and not the dictatorial bureaucrats in Washington, are among the only factors that keep our educational system from falling into complete ridiculousness.

But there are only so many of these people in the world and as a result the rest of our teachers end up being (a) those who would like to do something else but aren't capable or (b) those who like to teach but aren't any good at it. What we need to think about is how to attract the capable people who would love to teach but who choose to do something else because other careers are somehow more enticing. Obviously, one of the biggest factors here is financial and so Brighouse wonders aloud "how much more we would have to spend on employing teachers now in order to attract the talent that used to go into teaching."

This is a separate issue from the more popular one regarding whether teachers are paid too much or too little. That is another post for another day. Rather, it is a question about what kind of financial commitment we have to make in order to get more good teachers in our schools. And if, as I believe, good education is impossible without good teachers, it may be a question that we need to take more seriously than we do.

Juxtaposition

2006-05-21T14:14:00.000-04:00

Most of my days follow a pretty regular pattern. I get up in the morning, take care of Gideon's breakfast, have some play time (these days that almost always means playing cars or trains), watch some Sesame Street, and then head out to the park or for a walk around the neighborhood before lunch. A few times a week we throw in a trip to the store or run some other errand. After lunch, it's four or five stories and then naptime (Gideon's, not mine--though some days I certainly feel like taking my own).

When Gideon sleeps, that means I sit down to work: (a) composing a lecture, (b) working on a paper or my dissertation, or (c) trying to catch up on the reading that I need to do for (a) or (b). The transition is sometimes jarring. Within a half an hour, I can sometimes go from making grilled cheese and reading My Truck is Stuck to trying to make sense of Wittgensteinian approaches to value. My mind isn't great at focusing on command but I can't afford not to use the time that I have. So I end up working whether I "feel" philosophical or not. The same is often true in the evening. When Tisha gets home from school, I usually have to head out the door to (a) give the lecture I prepared while Gideon was sleeping, (b) work on a paper or my dissertation, or (c) try and catch up on the reading I need to do for (a) or (b). My students don't care what kind of day I've had. They are (rightly) expecting me to be prepared for class--to have something to say to them about that day's reading. And sometimes that means trying to inspire them philosophically when I really just want to hang out with my wife and son. My guess is that Plato and Descartes probably didn't work under such conditions.

Nietzsche thought that it was bad for a philosopher to be married--one couldn't fully devote oneself to philosophical endeavors and simultaneously be bothered by family responsibilities--and it is surely significant that relatively few of the "great" philosophers in history have been married. The life of the mind requires time and reflective space and if one wants to be a good husband and father, other things will always impinge on that space. That being said, I can't help but think that the single and childless philosophers of the past were somehow cut off from a realm of experience that is not at all discontinuous from the philosophical enterprise. If what we are after is a better understanding of our place in the world, then deep personal engagement with things that matter to great numbers of people has to provide insights that would be unavailable without experiencing them for ourselves. Or, at the very least, it has to put us in a good position to have those insights. So maybe family has a (perhaps undeniably) negative impact on the quantity of work one can do while having a highly positive impact on the quality of that work.

Of course, "being a better philosopher" wasn't on my list of reasons to get married or have children. But hopefully it will prove to be a nice bonus. I'll tell you in 20 years whether it does.

What if we are making a difference?

2006-05-20T12:43:00.000-04:00

Tisha (my wife, for the uninitiated) and I had a conversation last night that raised a theme that has been rolling around in my head for a while. Christians, it seems, often have a complex about making sure that what they are doing is distinctively Christian. While this is surely a laudable mindset, sometimes I think it has bad implications because it can amount to the idea that everything that Christians do must be different--in some clearly identifiable way--from what non-Christians do. The thought is that if Christians look like the world, then they are conforming to the world in a way that violates biblical warnings against just this kind of conformity (i.e. Rom 12 and Eph. 4).

But concluding that it is bad when the church and the world look alike assumes that in every case of such resmeblance, it is the church that is conforming to the world. What if there are cases when the world actually looks like the church?

So consider, for example, our judgments about which marriages are good marriages (one of the topics that raised this issue last night). What are the ostensible differences between good marriages among Christians and good marriages among non-Christians? My guess is, not all that much. It takes a self-sacrificial commitment to the well-being of your spouse to have a good marriage and I see no reason why non-Christians can't make such a commitment. As a result, I suspect that the outward appearance of good marriages will be quite similar no matter who it is that is married. Sure, non-Christians may not be able to place their commitment in a broader vision of the world in the same way that Christians can. But that doesn't mean that their marriages aren't good ones.

If I am right about even this one case (and I think there are probably many others), then why not think that the church has, in some measure, impacted the wider culture regarding the ideals of marriage? Why not think that after 2000 years, the biblical vision of the good life has (again in some measure) transformed the thinking even of those who do not explicitly subscribe to that vision? And if, in some cases, it is the world that is conforming to the church, then it would seem that not looking like the world is exactly the opposite of what we should want.

Against my better judgment

2006-05-19T16:39:00.000-04:00

Against my better judgment, I'm finally making a foray into the blogosphere. I've read other blogs for quite some time but have been resistant to having my own because I simply have too many other things to do and don't need anything else on that list. A few factors have finally made me capitulate.

First, I've discovered that a good number of friends have blogs that I didn't know they had. Since I'm quite bad at keeping in touch with all of them by more standard means (e-mail has now become a standard means), hopefully joining the ever-growing blogging community will aid that process. I can post stuff that I've been thinking about or that has been going on in my life and people can check up on me as they feel like it (or not).

Second, writing is an incredible process of clarification for me. Often, I don't know what I think about something until I finally sit down and write about it. As a result, I probably need to write more than I do (which is quite a bit) rather than less. Maybe blogging will help clear out the muddle in my head.

Third, I decided that I would resolve not to let posting become "another thing I have to do." I will do it if and when I want and never more than that. So I have no idea how often or long you'll be hearing from me and that's probably just as it should be.

What are you likely to read about here? I suppose we'll all have to check back in from time to time and find out.