Showing posts with label discussion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label discussion. Show all posts

April 18, 2013

'Crazy' and Other Words (Pt 1)

I've been thinking about this for a little while, and in light of some heated discussions that have occurred in my line of sight, I thought I'd vomit out a few thoughts.

Some people use words like 'crazy', 'mad', 'insane' and many, many synonymous terms (seriously, there's like a bazillion of them, most of them food-based) to describe people with, let's say, erroneous opinions. Other people call out this use of language as slurring of the actually mentally ill, similar to other social slurs like 'Paki', 'tranny' or 'sand monkey'.

(Incidentally, the Public Shaming blog has made me aware of a whole range of bizarre racial epithets that I never knew existed. America's multi-culturalism has brought with is multi-cultural racism.)

Now, it's rare that I can say this, but I actually have a foot in the door with this discussion. I suffer from depression - not as badly as many, but the waves come and go and still cause me problems. Depression makes me crazy. See, craziness or insanity is a description of the disconnect between reality and one's mental interpretation of reality. JT Eberhard in his quite wonderful talk on his own mental illness reminded me that it was OK to consider myself crazy (at time), because that was accurate. When I'm in the good part of my depressive waves, I can look back to the troughs and realise, 'Shit, the way I saw things was completely wrong, I was so blinded by the fog of depression.'

My point in the above is to actually define what craziness is. There may be a clinical, chronic insanity, where you are near-permanently separated from reality and there may be bouts of insanity, which you can escape from. People with body dysmorphia (often including eating disorders), for example, are constantly fighting their own minds interpretation of their own bodies. It's crazy.

So, when people call another person's opinion crazy, it really tends to be a description of the difference between what they've said and what's real. For example, if someone told me the Earth was flat, I might call that crazy. Or insane. It is my opinion (thus far) that this a legitimate use of the word 'crazy'. Alternatively, you might call the person making the statement crazy: 'You think the Earth is flat? You're crazy!' Again (and this depends on each context), the suggestion of this phrase is really that the statement is crazy and not that the person is crazy, or mentally ill. But what if it didn't? What if the accuser was suggestion that there's was something problematic in the Flat-Earther's mind that made him unable to connect the facts and appreciate the reality of a round Earth? It's a euphemistic, metaphorical parallel to mental illness, I guess. Is this wrong?

This is where I start to get a bit hazy. And now we have to consider what calling someone crazy actually suggests about genuinely mentally ill people. From my perspective, I do not think calling someone crazy suggests that mentally ill people are bad. Calling someone a slut (pejoratively) does. Calling someone or their argument crazy tends to speak to the argument, statement or position they hold.

However, this is just from my perspective and I've barely had any societal push back for my particular mental problems, which is great for me. So, I've titled this blog post, "Pt 1" so that I can try an engage with other people of mental illness and see if this kind of language has affected them. Then I'll come back once I have a better idea.

I Can Solve This Whole Richard Dawkins Problem

Richard Dawkins was a big player in reigniting the atheist movement and possibly the skeptic and humanist movements too, with the release of The God Delusion. This made him a sort of focal point for a lot of 'New Atheists' and people of that ilk and caused religious groups to equate with a Pope-like figure.

Now, really we should all know that we have, in the (borrowed) words of Margaret Sanger, 'No Gods, No Masters.' We should hold no one up to the standards of near-infallibility. The whole point of skepticism and its subsidiaries are to reserve doubt, to question and not to follow blindly. So the first and most obvious point to make is that, obviously Richard Dawkins is not the final word on everything and people who just sponge up everything he says need to stop it.

See, Richard Dawkins, now that he's strapped himself into the social media machine, has continued to brain-fart across the twittersphere for all and sundry. This has revealed his ignorance and his privilege when it comes to social justice issues that many in the skeptic arena are moving to embrace. He is often as arrogant and dismissive as you might expect a septuagenariat white, male emeritas professor and best-selling author to be; his plasticity is somewhat rigid at this point.

This doesn't excuse the crap he says (with annoyingly increasing frequency), but I think we need to remember this: Richard Dawkins is an evolutionary biologist. That's his expertise. Those are his credentials. That's not to say people can't speak knowledgeably and legitimately outside of their fields but Dawkins is no social scientist, feminist or theologian and often hasn't done the legwork required to give his brain-farts the acknowledgement being given. When he dismisses modern feminism, I like to think as if he's dismissing House music or Danny Boyle films. Why should we care what he says about these things? He has nothing to do with them and knows little about them.

Of course, the problem is that people do care about what he says, whatever he talks about. He's a lauded figure. But we need to uncouple these experts from the things they know next to nothing about. Just because you're a respected and listened-to figure in certain areas, doesn't mean that every word leaving your lips turns to gold. If we can keep reminding ourselves that the further speakers are from their expertise, the more evidence we should demand from them to back up their assertions.

Or, stop listening to Dawkins unless he's talking about the Gene Theory of Natural Selection.

March 21, 2013

The Power of Technical Language


Deputy Editor of the New Statesman, Helen Lewis said something interesting on the Pod Delusion this week. Speaking to James O’Malley about feminism she said that ‘intersectionality’ was a great idea, but that she hated the word.

Let’s quickly step back a moment. Intersectionality studies the overlap (or ‘intersections’, I guess) between all the minority groups; the idea of bringing intersectionality into feminism is to prevent it becoming a white, middle-class action. By understanding that discrimination and the fight for equality blends across racial, sexual and social classifications, people can become better and more informed about how to narrow the equality gap. I think it was Beth Presswood (GodlessBitches) who described the revelation as a rhetorical question (paraphrased): ‘if you were to stack up the different types of people: who has a more privileged position – a black man or a white woman?’

So, back to Helen Lewis (and I’m not actually responding to or rebutting Lewis, rather rebounding from a singular point she made). The point Lewis was making was that she believed words like ‘intersectionality’ are useful in that they describe a concept as yet uncollected, but the word itself remains in the domain of more rigorous debate. It’s useful to actual egalitarian thinkers when engaging in discussion but isolating to the layperson to whom you may be trying to open an understanding.
What’s this boils down to in a more general sense is – is technical language a barrier to discussion and introducing ideas?

I have an urge to answer ‘no’. This might be because I tend to approach things (if I’m interested) in an academic way and make the effort to explore and understand if I’m going to engage with a topic. So there may be some personal bias here, I’ll admit. But language and words are powerful gateway tools to understanding. The concept of intersectionality may take a little bit of introduction, but once I understood it, it was an incredible useful term. It describes quite a lot in seven syllables. If I was exploring  why there aren’t a lot of women in (say) architecture and someone told me to think more intersectionally, I would understand more immediately that whatever the issue was, it ran across several minorities. It’s made understanding other new words like ‘kierarchy’ much simpler, because kierarchy is just the intersectional form of patriarchy.

Introducing technical or academic language takes a little more time, but over the long term (even the length of a conversation) it allows you to make larger leaps forward, making secondary and tertiary concepts much more accessible. For example, I could spend ten minutes clearing up nuclear fusion and nuclear fission and then we could have a much more involved discussion about the ramifications of the difference fuel and reactor types. Without including people in your language you may never be able to allow them the deeper understanding that gives them the power to make decisions and form opinions in the future.

Granted, if you’ve got seven minutes on LBC to convey an idea in an interview (as Lewis described) then you don’t have the power to do that. I understand that. But I wouldn’t go as far as called the word ‘intersectionality’ and other academic language ‘terrible’. Oh, no.

January 16, 2013

On the Conflation of Offence

 I'm sure I must have spoken about this before, but here I am, noting it down for official record (when I die, I’m going to insist they read the entirety of this blog aloud at my funeral service).
Recent events regarding transphobic comments, and the defence thereof (the details of which I won't cover as they have been detailed and analysed far more proficiently than I could have*) have resulted in the increasingly common arguments about 'offence'. Typically some factions, the Mail Online included, will tumble between either claiming gross offence themselves or whining about precious little flowers that cry offence at anything, entirely depending on their predefined axioms. This speaks to the heart of the problems with offence in and of itself.
To me, the word 'offence' has lost all useable meaning in this context. It has expanded to encompass everything from the fan-waving delicacy of a 19th century duchess to the furious outrage of a mob bearing fire and pitchforks. Whenever anyone reacts badly to any publication, they are reported as being 'offended', which means..., what exactly? That they didn't like the article? That they disagree with it? That they consider it to be fundamentally wrong to an absolute measure?
I have said fairly often that I don't think anyone has the right not to be offended, and I stick by that. This is part of the essence of free speech and the spirit of public debate, but doesn’t necessarily mean that the people causing offence aren’t being dicks. Some people are offended by the defence of gay marriage and, well, that's tough. Other people are offended by the casual use of the word 'tranny' but, again, it's not the offence that's important.
What we need to understand is the harm and consequence of the countered article. When Julie Burchill, through the Observer, chose to write a ridiculous article riddled with ignorant slurs against the trans community, it wasn't the offence that was important. Granted, upsetting people isn't a nice thing to do, but that's a consequence of speaking openly in a world where people don't agree. What was important about Burchill's article was that it reinforced the consistent dehumanisation of trans people, reducing them to their sexual organs and dismissing their identities and ability to be strong social activists. This societal view of the trans community results in actual harm to the people within it. When real, living people are viewed as either sub-human or less worthy than those crowding around the middle of the bell curve; they are far more prone to open mockery, humiliation and violence.
But  we're not just talking about trans issues, here. Anytime someone writes an inflammatory article or makes a ridiculous public statement that results in people becoming 'up in arms' in response, it is important to ask why. Offence isn't a reason, it's an emotional response. If you call me evil, I'll be offended by that. If you publically call homosexual people evil then they too will be offended, but you may also be damaging the entire homosexual community in measurable ways, be it in the manifestation of bullying, prejudice or delaying equality of marriage.
On the other hand, if a bishop (or whoever) said he found equal marriage offensive to his religion, you could say, 'OK, you are offended, but will allowing homosexual folk to marry bring about genuine harm to Christians/heterosexuals/marriage/society?' As far as my understanding goes, the answer to this is no.

So structuring these arguments around offence is pointless and really only serves to present these conflicts as nothing more than a soap opera. Show me the tangible measurable effects and why they are important.

December 17, 2012

A Little on Tone Policing.

Tone policing is the term used for when an argument is rebutted by attacking its delivery style instead of its content. "Calm down, dear" is a form of tone policing. The reason that tone policing itself is so consistently flagged and criticised is because it is often used to derail an argument away from the points being made and towards the (technically irrelevant) tone of the critic. It's a frustrating tactic and often a cowardly method used by people who are happy to stoke the fire with pointed opinions but who cannot handle the inevitable flames. Most of the time tone policing is just a bad defence and, to the initiated, draws a spotlight of weakness upon those who use it.

Having said all that, tone is not always an entirely irrelevant part of an argument and whipping out the "tone police" objection at the first sniff of a tone-based argument may sometimes be hasty. When making or observing an argument, you need to consider what the objectives of the argument are and the environment of the argument.

(By the way, I'm using 'argument' in it broadest sense, be it a fierce disagreement or a more friendly debate or discussion.)

The environment of the argument is often where the fuzzy edges of the internet (where most arguing appears to take place these days) can make things confusing. In the real world (or the wonderful term 'meatspace'. I love how we've started to describe the real world with secondary terminology, like 'snail mail'), it's much easier to pitch your tone accordingly. If you're sitting across a table from someone to whom you strongly object it is unlikely you would put yourself with in inches of their face and start screaming at them. At least, I hope you wouldn't - this is pretty abusive behaviour. You are far more likely to scream and shout if you're arguing passionately to an audience, raising a rabble or leading a march. It's not uncommon for things to get enflamed even in a one-on-one debate, because you are performing for an audience and not scaring the shit out of just one person.

This is where consideration of the objectives come in: what are you trying to achieve? Are you trying to change the mind of the one person to whom you disagree, or do you just want them to know how angry you are? Are you trying to convince an audience (be it a readership or physical spectatorship)? As sound and valid as your argument may be, it is naive to think you can be as effective in all situations with the same tone. It just isn't the case. While it is perfectly valid to shoot down tone policing from an opponent who wants to derail your argument, I don't believe it is as valid to shoot down an ally who wishes to strengthen the effectiveness of your argument.

I think we're too quick to do that.

This thought vomit sprang out from a discussion about Caitlin Moran over twitter. In Moran's case, she has shown that she is unresponsive to any form of criticism, aggressive or measured. In this case, what do you do? I think we have to accept she's not going to listen to those who think her dangerously narrow form of feminist philosophy is all kinds of wrong, so there are two contructive things we can do. The first is to deconstruct her bullshit for everyone else who may have read her work, or heard of it. This will expand the knowledge and understanding of your common audience and hopefully prevent or innoculate people from her bad rhetoric. The second is to let her know you disagree with her, and why (even if she'll ignore you). This will remind her that she keeps saying disagreeable things which may (optimistically) make her think a little harder in future. Firing abuse at her is not particularly useful or productive and does little more than ease the burning anger a little. There's being aggressive, and there's being a dick.

November 04, 2012

No Shave November

November is not just November anyone. It's No-Shave November. From my perspective, it first became Movember, a month for men to grow some hilarious moustaches and raise some money and awareness for male-centric diseases, like prostate and testicular cancer. In recent years, though, it has been co-opted by women as a way to be liberated from the trials of shaving their body hair. I'm not sure if there are any philanthropic attachments to the women side of No Shave November and that isn't important for the points of this post.

When I searched the #NoShaveNovember tag on Twitter a couple of nights ago, it was saturated with comments from all genders deriding women who choose not to shave their various bits and pieces.

Which is just... bizarre. And, for the sake of balance, I think some of the NoShaveNovember derision is aimed at men too, because... I don't know. Something about beards? Who knows what goes through these people's heads.

Let me get these simple facts into your head: people can do whatever the hell they want with their bodies. This is literally none of your business.

I can kind of understand the foundations of the sentiment if you're someone who likes to have sex with women, and don't like body hair and are a been grossed out by the fact that potential sex friends might be hairier than you prefer. I get that. I get it in the same way that I don't really like lip-piercings, I find them a bit icky. But for me: tough titties. Either I don't let the lip-piercing bother me, or I don't try and get it on with that person. They don't owe me anything; it's not up to them to try and sculpt and fabulise themselves into what I find attractive. Same with body hair: if you don't wanna sleep with someone who lets it all grow out, then don't sleep with them.

The weirder thing is the heterosexual women who lay into non-shavers as if that affects their lives in any way. If anything, it's going to increase their changes of getting their hanky and/or panky on if they believe (as their tweets suggest) that they are going to send men running in fear from the hairies. Perhaps they are afraid that the No-Shavers will affect some kind of social change! Oh noes! As if you're bothered by social change: some of you have bright orange skin and wear leggings that have a measurable denier. 

I grow a beard. I literally only grow a beard cause I hate shaving. It's uncomfortable, irritating and something I can't be bothered to do every couple of days. Luckily, there's not that much social pressure for men who are deciding between bearded and clean-shaven faces. The social pressure on women is far, far greater. But I'll tell you this: I know a few women who don't shave, and they've had next to no noticeable change in their social successes, sexual or otherwise. Possibly because they don't socialise with body fascists, or maybe because they don't let third parties dictate their body confidence and sexual prowess.

Basically the point of this blog post is that I shaved my face two days ago and my chin still itches like a motherfucker. Stupid shaving.

August 23, 2012

The Hardest Thing About Being a White Man...

...is learning to shut the fuck up.

As a white guy from a rich nation, there's a lot of things I don't have to think about on a daily basis. I don't have to worry about getting catcalled on the street, bring groped or leered at, having my sex life judged or being profiled by my skin colour in job interviews or at security gates. I tend to get listened to quite a lot. Hopefully, people keep listening because I have something vaguely worth listening to, but I have no problem getting people to listen to me, because everyone wants to hear what the white guy has to say.

I've spoken before about recognising the weird subconscious part of me that tries to tell me that women don't know what they're talking about as much as men and there's a lot of societal brainwashing that goes along with that.

When shit happens, in politics, the internet or whatever, I often feel like I have something to say about it. I have thoughts. I has feelingses. You must listen to my thoughts because they are important and I'm totally adding to the discussion, you guys. And, as I said, being a white dude means that people tend to pay attention. But then, we all have thoughts and feelings on these hot button issues, so what makes me so important? Why should people listen to what I have to say?

When it comes to issues of sex, politics, race, religion, gender and a whole bunch of other important crap, I'm probably not the one to be listening to. There are a heckload of qualified, relevant people who can give a much more valuable insight than I ever can. Folk of colour, female folk, transfolk, disabled folk - a lot of people from a variety of marginalised groups. These guys don't get heard because everyone is listening to the white dude, who are so used to having an audience that they never shut up.

It's nice to be listened to. It's really nice. It's validating, affirming, confidence-boosting and generally gives you the fuzzy feelings. So it's hard to stay quiet. It's hard to sit back and let other people talk. But do you want the discussion to be as valuable as it can be, or do you just want to be listened to?

February 16, 2012

The Invalid Angels

You know what frustrates me? If you've been following my twitter you might assume the answer is "Apple computers". And you'd be right. But that's not what I'm talking about in this case.

I get over-whelmingly annoyed when a person or organisation has what I consider to be a good objective or, let's say, moral standpoint and then goes about achieving their ends in the most asinine, dishonest or ridiculous way.

Let's take PETA. PETA's goal, as far I understand it, is to convince the population to stop using animals for our own ends. Priorities are frivolities like using fur and ivory but they'd also want you to stop eating meat and cheese and a bunch of other stuff like riding horses, depending on how deep into their philosophy you go. I consider this a decent enough goal. I'm not a vegetarian, but I'm no fan of animal suffering and there are a number of studies that suggest an all-round reduction of meat-eating is beneficial for the environment. If this was as far as it went, I'd be happy to say, 'Yes, PETA, I think you've got a good thing going on.'

But, unfortunately, this is not where it ends. PETA don't want to convince me by having a decent argument and presenting evidence to the right bodies and working on a practical solution to move towards their goals. They just want to be loud and shouty and sexy. Their latest advert claims that turning to veganism will make you so veracious in the bedroom that you'll injure your partner. Not only does the evidence actually lean against this idea, but it's a pretty sick advert. And so are most of their adverts, which involve convincing sexy female celebrities to disrobe for their campaigns under taglines like 'I'd rather go nude than wear fur.' I lose a little respect for each of these celebrities when they appear in a PETA campaign. Basically, PETA's schtick is aggressive and sexual PR.

Good ideas (somewhat) in theory, but terrible implementation. I do not endorse PETA. They are idiots. They are also liars, but that's not the point  of this blogpost.

I don't endorse protestors who smash shit up and are violent against the police. Those people are idiots and do not have my blessing. I understand that legitimate protests become entangled with mindless thugs, but from a hypothetical standpoint any act of aggression is going to send you right back to the start again.

I guess my point is, stop ruining everything. You'll never make any headway if you don't argue the right way. It may be slow and grate on your patience, but if you shout and scream like an imbecile, people will assume your entire position is imbecilic. It's a dreadful ad hominem, but no one care and the damage is so easily done.

February 02, 2012

No Anger Here

I'm happy to point out where I think things/people/organisations have gone wrong - sometimes hideously wrong, to the point of causing an entire subset of people to suffer for it - my strong sense of atheism and egalitarianism makes this a daily occurrence. But what I don't do is get angry about it.

It sometimes feels like a strange state to be in, as the arguments from both sides of the kinds of discussions I'm interested in tend to be pretty gosh darn angry. The Unilad fiasco, which I watched from the sidelines (partly because I didn't have the energy to pitch in and partly because the whole thing was so blindingly obvious, I didn't have anything interesting to add) was a particularly angry affair. Feminists (and, to be fair, most decent human beings) were boiling at the contempt shown for women by the lad-culture website, while the lads were pissed at the feminists butting into their rape-joke party. This is a pretty obvious example of such a conflict, but you'll see similar things throughout politics, religious debate, science vs the sciencephobic, etc; people will get pretty angry about the consequences and attitudes of the other side.

Now, I'm not going to say anger is unjustified. A lot of these debates can centre around issues that can have devastating effects on real people; we're talking potentially life-ruining events in a lot of cases (depending on the topic). To feel angry about the parents being misled about vaccines, for example, is completely unsurprising and justified.

However, I don't really get angry. And I'm quite glad for that. There are two reasons I don't get angry: the first is that it's not really a natural reaction for me. I don't get visceral rises of emotion, in any direction, really. I accept facts and evidence and process them quite slowly, chewing over them for a while. This makes me terrible at verbal debates, because every time I'm presented with new facts I like to think about them for a little while before coming to conclusions. This brings me to my second reason for not getting angry: anger clouds your judgement. When you're emotionally charged, your entire being centres around your current position of thought and closes down all other avenues. It's very, very hard for someone to change your mind when you're angry and being charged by that ferocity makes you very defensive. I think the important thing to always bear in mind is that you may not be completely right. You may not be completely wrong, but it's very likely that a reasonable position lies somewhere between where you are and where your opponent sits.

Being angry isn't helpful in the context of rational debate. It's a hindrance to an open mind. Getting to a rational position can be a slow and considered process and that requires being cool and patient. This goes for personal arguments too. If you're in a face-to-face disagreement with someone and it ends up being nothing but a heated argument that goes nowhere, it's best to step back from it. I know the frustration of that verbal sparring and the whole things ends up about winning the battle and not about finding a truth - and the truth is the basis for the argument in the first place. When two people disagree it's because they see something differently so, while you're trying to convince them of your perspective, remember they are trying to convince you of theirs and so, together, you are trying to understand some objective truth to the matter at hand. Arguments should be about reaching an understanding, not winning a battle.