Of course, it’s difficult to know exactly what someone means when they’re trying to talk philosophy in 140 characters or less so I don’t want to make any assumptions here. It’s possible that Chuck might have been referring to a classic Bertrand Russell quote (one that I coincidentally posted on Facebook yesterday):
One of the painful things about our time is that those who feel certainty are stupid, and those with any imagination and understanding are filled with doubt and indecision.
That’s a similar sentiment but not exactly the same as what Chuck tweeted. But given Russell’s political outlook, I’m guessing that he is probably not one of Chuck’s intellectual heroes. It’s not unreasonable, then, to consider other possible interpretations.
One plausible option is that Chuck was nodding to the Dunning-Kruger effect, a certain kind of cognitive bias that gets hijacked from time to time into online political discussions.
If that’s the case, then you don’t need any help from me in analyzing this. (though an appreciation of irony would certainly help). The tweet simply speaks for itself.
My son Joseph Colombo writes classical music. (In his online bio, he describes himself as a “San Francisco-based composer and noise maker.” The bio also notes that “he’s written music for orchestras, chamber ensembles, electronics, stage, film, installations, and everything in between.”) He and I got into an interesting email exchange the other day when I sent him a note expressing my enthusiasm for the Chapman Stick, a string-based musical instrument that was developed in the 1970s. (I’m the first one to admit that my tastes are somewhat pedestrian. As always, he was patient.)
Joseph’s reply made it clear that he didn’t share my enthusiasm for the relatively new instrument and its capabilities. He made some specific points of criticism though I won’t try to explain them here because I’m not sure I could do them justice. (He can do so on his blog if he’s so inclined.) Apart from the conclusion about the Chapman Stick that he reached, though, it was the way he made his case that struck me.
Joseph teaches composition music theory at The Academy of Art University in San Francisco, a gig for which he’s well suited because, like many composers, he has the heart of a teacher. When he explained his points to me, he did so in a way that was so instructive that I thought I’d share it here. (And, to tell the truth, finding fodder for interesting blog posts can be difficult; it occurred to me that when someone just plops something worthwhile in my lap—and does all the attendant research!—I might as well take advantage of it.)
Basically, Joseph provided me with performances of Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D minor (BWV 565) on four different instruments. The idea was to compare and contrast the instruments’ properties. The process of giving each performance a close listen and then comparing and contrasting the attributes of each instrument was more than a little interesting.
The first performance was by Bob Culverson and featured his outstanding work on the Chapman Stick:
Next up is a guitarist names George Sakellariou playing the same Bach piece on a 2013 Annette Stephany maple and spruce guitar:
The third rendition featured Amy Turk playing the piece on a traditional harp:
And, finally there’s organist Hans-André Stamm with the most traditional interpretation:
This “compare and contrast” gave me a context listening—really listening—to each version of the music at a deeper level and to think about the tradeoffs that are always present whenever an artist makes musical choices… which happens, of course, all the time.
What do you think? Which instrument works best for you? What are each instrument’s strengths and weaknesses? How do you think the musical selection interacts with the instrumental choices? And, of course, there’s the most important question of all: What do you think of the Chapman Stick?
On January 10, 1969, in one of my favorite episodes, the original Star Trek TV series obliquely tackled the subject of racism. In the intervening forty six years, I’m not sure that anyone has nailed the arrogance and inherent irrationality of racial bias as clearly or as effectively.
Whenever I see someone like Charles Murray pontificating about race on television or when I read any of the vapid diatribes—dripping in thinly veiled racism (or, frequently, not so thinly veiled racism)—that appear regularly in conservative media, Frank Gorshin’s pitch perfect performance pops into my mind. His performance is over-the-top but, when you think about it, no more so than Louis Gomert or half the writers at National Review.
I’ve always felt that one of Facebook’s most significant innovations was including the category of “It’s Complicated” among the options for designating your relationship status.
In fact, the value of that description extends way beyond relationships. In my experience, life offers few—if any—straightforward narratives. We gravitate towards explanations that are simple and reliable and we reflexively want to categorize the events and people we encounter in ways that are neat and tidy. Reality seldom cooperates but the tendency persists. (Arizona State psychology professor Robert Cialdini offers a pretty good explanation for why we do this in his classic book, Influence, a “must read” on the subject of human behavior.)
One of the smartest things I ever heard on cable news was a comment made by Colonel Jack Jacobs, a military analyst and Congressional Medal of Honor recipient. Responding to an interviewer’s question about whether or not changes in warfare were responsible for fewer Medals of Honor being awarded, Jacobs replied, “I’m not a fan of single factor analysis. There are lots of reasons why things occur and that is only one of them.” (Buddhists refer to this as dependent arising or dependent origination.)
Are homeless people lazy? Are conservatives heartless? Are liberals naive? You might think you know the answers to questions like these but the more closely and dispassionately you examine them, the more likely it is that you’ll find the real answers to be… complicated.
As Mad Men approaches the end of its extraordinary run, each episode gets combed over in excruciating detail in a search for meaning and significance. The detail of the scrutiny isn’t really surprising. Mad Men is, after all, the greatest TV drama of all time.
What is surprising, though, is how three potentially important developments from last week’s episode managed to somehow slip under almost everyone’s radar. I could be off-base with any or all of these but each one seemed fraught with significance to me:
It was a “Don Draper” pitch that pushed Don over the edge. Reading over recaps of last week’s episode, several bloggers mentioned that Don was “distracted” at the Miller meeting. It seemed clear to me that something much more pointed was going on. When Bill Phillips of Donnelly Research began his presentation, what I heard was clearly reminiscent of the old Don Draper at his peak. Listening (in effect) to himself spurred today’s Don to a conclusion: His profession was unworthy and his professional success was meaningless. Don reached his point of no return, provoked by the echo of a classic Don Draper-styled pitch.
Roger is the guy falling from a window in the opening credits. The inestimable Sandra Colombo gets credit for this one. In Sunday’s episode, Roger told Peggy about an experience when he was in the Navy. He had a chance to go swimming after being stuck on a boat for several days in 100 degree weather. The problem was that he had to jump from someplace that was several stories above the water… and he was afraid of heights. When Peggy asked him how he got himself to jump, he explained that someone pushed him. It’s not difficult to see that as a foreshadowing something more meaningful to come.
The hitchhiker was a young Dick Whitman. This is the most obvious, most overlooked clue of all. Take a good look at this screen grab of Don and the young hitchhiker:
Unless, I’m seeing things (a possibility that isn’t entirely out of the question), that looks an awful lot like Jon Hamm lurking underneath that mess of uncombed hair. If that’s the case, then Don’s ensuing road trip with this young man is destined to be the hinge on which the entire Mad Men story swings. It will provide Don with ample time to discover what his younger self knew that he has forgotten. And he’ll have a chance to integrate his unsettling past with his increasingly uncertain future. Call me an optimist but I’d like to think that there’s redemption waiting out there for Don and that perhaps it might be the young Dick Whitman who points him in the right direction.
Like everyone else, I’m eager to see how Matthew Weiner works everything out in the end. But as I watched last week’s episode it seemed to me that he left some fairly obvious clues. It turned out, though, that they were all roundly ignored in the media… if they were really there at all.
We can—and should—have big debates about important ideologic questions (every one a variation of “How can we perfect our society?) but I think think it’s important to address a single, fundamental question at the beginning of the whole conversation:
What constitutes “winning”?
I’m not smart enough to have all the answers but I think it’s a question that clarifies what’s at stake when we make difficult choices (and we will always have those to make).
My own feeling—and it’s a position I’d argue for strongly—is that “winning” for us as a society means figuring out how to get everyone over the Finish line. Not just a few people, not even most people. Everyone.
We haven’t won anything until we’ve figures out an answer to this difficult question, until we stop being willing to sacrifice people who—for whatever reason—aren’t able to fend for themselves.
“Elephant in the Meditation Room?” (no online link available) is an article that appears in the latest issue of Shamble Sun. The author, Christopher Ford, is a senior counsel for national security policy at the U.S. Senate Banking Committee, an ordained lay Buddhist chaplain, and a life-long Republican.
Dr. Ford wastes little time in stating his basic premise: “Buddhism doesn’t have to entail political liberalism. I would argue that a thoughtful Buddhist’s engagement with the socio-political world can lead to a quite conservative sensibility.” I’d like to respectfully suggest that the opposite might be closer to the truth. Dr. Ford might agree with me, though, that a more productive discussion would result if we defined our terms more clearly.
For example, in defense of his argument Dr. Ford points out that “Buddhist ideas of right conduct are consistent with some of the traditional social mores of Western culture.” That’s certainly true, as far as it goes, but the implication that liberalism and traditional social mores are somehow incompatible is misleading. I understand Dr. Ford’s desire to embrace traditional values but I quarrel with his attempt to appropriate those values for the conservative cause. They are universal values that transcend political ideology. They’re as foundational for certain brands of liberalism as they are for certain brands of conservatism.
A lynchpin of Dr. Ford’s position is “Not Knowing,” one of the three tenets of the Zen Peacemaker Order. This tenet calls on Zen Peacemakers to “give up fixed ideas” about themselves and the universe. But surely giving up fixed ideas is not the same as being unwilling to make value judgments about what we see going on around us at any given moment. The Dalai Lama provided a more practical model for “Not Knowing” when he was asked about the prospect of science contradicting Buddhist doctrine and replied, “If science proves some belief of Buddhism wrong, then Buddhism will have to change.”
The concept of Engaged Buddhism, it seems to me, is predicated on the idea of embracing a responsibility we all have to help each other. In fact, among the convert Buddhists that Dr. Ford describes in his article, there’s a likely explanation for why they tend to be — in his words— “overwhelmingly liberal.” I’ll suggest it might be because “Not Knowing” is not — in their minds — the salient characteristic of Buddhism. The salient characteristic of Buddhism in my mind (and, I suspect, in the minds of many other American convert Buddhists) is compassion.
And it is on the issue of compassion that I believe Buddhism and American political conservatism begin to diverge dramatically. It’s not that conservatives aren’t personally compassionate. They often are. It’s that they favor policy prescriptions that don’t take compassion into account. (Of course, many conservatives sincerely believe that their policies produce better outcomes all up and down the economic spectrum but in the spirit of “Not Knowing,” surely there’s a point at which a generation’s worth of data makes that theory no longer tenable.) For many of us, the effect of Buddhism is to heighten our awareness of the need to infuse our public policy choices with empathy and compassion.
My biggest disconnect with the article is on a point that, perhaps, isn’t one that Dr. Ford himself meant to make. Though the article’s title refers obliquely to Republicans, Dr. Ford never brings partisanship, per se, into the conversation. He refers to Buddhism’s compatibility with “conservative” principles, not “Republican” principles. I might disagree with that conclusion but it’s a reasonable position (and one which Dr. Ford isn’t the first to take).
On the other hand, if the question switches to one about today’s Republican party as an institution, I’d argue that there is little basis for any kind of ongoing affinity between it and American Buddhism. Name whatever issue you’d like and the Republican Party likely supports policies that are at odds with Buddhist principles. For example, to his credit Dr. Ford admits that “progress is affected by people’s external circumstances” so that “there is some role for government in preventing these conditions from becoming catastrophically bad.” That fundamental observation would be controversial in today’s Republican Party. (I wish I were exaggerating.)
The Buddhist aversion to waging war is also an important area of fundamental incompatibility. So is climate change. So is factory farming. The list is a long one.
The impression given by this article to the contrary (and, again, underscoring that the text of the article itself did not mention political parties), I cannot imagine Buddhist practice resulting in the embrace of any of the ideas that characterize the Republican Party in 2015.
There is one point on which I suspect Dr. Ford and I probably agree. I believe we’d both be pleased to see all of our policymakers become more acquainted with Buddhist principles and practices. Of course, he and I have different ideas about what a more widespread embrace of the dharma might look like in the political arena over time. But I, for one, would like to see dharma practice proliferate as widely as possible — and I’d be willing to take my chances with the political outcome.
Despite her patina of cool professionalism, Hillary Clinton simply isn’t a very good candidate. She wasn’t in 2008 and she isn’t today. I don’t want to take up too much time here with an exhaustive list but let me simply posit that almost all of Hillary’s wounds in 2008 were self-inflicted and she shows no signs of being much better this time around.
Beyond Hillary’s questionable competence as a candidate, there’s also a question (in my mind, at least) of how well Hillary might do in getting out the vote in 2016. If we survey the Democratic candidates who lost in 2014 by running away from the party’s populist wing, Hillary fits in comfortably with all of them. And if Democratic centrism failed to excite the base in 2014, where’s the evidence that it can do any better in 2016?
Hillary needs to shore up her left flank in a big way and I think she understands this. Unfortunately, when she’s tried to appropriate Elizabeth Warren’s populist tone, things haven’t gone well. Perhaps the bolder move for Hillary would be to forget about appropriating Warren’s tone and instead appropriate Warren herself. In fact, if Hillary wants something more than the divided-government sclerosis that’s plagued our politics for a generation now, she might consider borrowing an audacious move from the playbook of… Ronald Reagan.
In 1976, Ronald Reagan took up the cause of Republican conservatives and challenged a sitting president, the moderate Gerald Ford, for the GOP nomination. Taking on an incumbent president is a long shot under any circumstances and Reagan understood that he was going to need a “Hail Mary” pass to secure the nomination. His tactic was something that, as far as anyone could remember, had never been tried before. Knowing that he needed to shore up his support among the party’s centrists, Reagan named his vice-presidential nominee before the party’s convention. That nominee was Richard Schweiker, a decidedly moderate Republican senator from Pennsylvania.
Reagan’s quixotic candidacy came to an end at the convention that year. He didn’t win but he came far closer than anyone expected. And even though he failed in an improbably quest, his surprise announcement might point to a way forward for Hillary Clinton’s 2016 campaign and a way to position her prospective presidency for real success.
As Reagan did in 1976, Hillary needs to shore up her left flank. And she needs to do so in a way that will get Democratic voters to the polls in big numbers in November.
What could possibly be more effective than naming Elizabeth Warren as her vice-presidential candidate? If Hillary wants to clear the field then such a bold move would certainly do it. The key, though, would be how Hillary and her running mate use the months leading up to the convention.
While the Republican field busies itself running to the extreme right (as it will under any circumstances), imagine Hillary Clinton and Elizabeth Warren delivering a non-stop, coast-to-coast seminar on progressive values and economics. Imagine that once — just once — there’s a progressive Democratic ticket driving the electoral narrative.
For decades now, Democrats have made little headway among blue-collar white voters who ought to be a natural part of any Democratic coalition. Elizabeth Warren has a unique talent for making common-sense economics accessible. She has a message that I believe will resonate well in precisely those places where Democrats need to make gains.
The ultimate hope would be to not only win the presidency (and vice-presidency!) but to also move our entire debate to the left. This is no pipe dream. On issue after issue, progressive positions enjoy majority support among voters. Unfortunately, Democrats have been singularly unable to translate these policy positions into widespread electoral success.
Elizabeth Warren has the potential to be the kind of catalyst the party needs to seriously improve its fortunes beyond just winning the White House. If progressives can’t make a bigger impact, if we cannot move our policy initiatives into the mainstream of political discussion, then there is little hope that the dysfunctional political environment of the last six years will improve anytime in the foreseeable future.
This is Hillary’s chance to seriously alter the electoral landscape. Will she be content to win a term or two of the presidency for herself (if, in fact, she can), or will she follow Ronald Reagan’s example and seize an opportunity to go for the sort of victory that could make a difference for an entire generation?
Two years ago, as Florida was gearing up for election season, I got a call from my friend Steve Barnes who was then chairman of Seminole County’s Democratic Party. Steve knew that I’d done media work in the past and asked if I’d give him a hand putting together an ad for Florida’s 29th congressional district, one of three districts in Seminole. I’d have jumped at any chance to work with Steve but, for a variety of reasons, this opportunity was particularly appealing.
Steve’s original idea was to create some kind of A Clockwork Orange takeoff. While that was an intriguing idea in a number of ways, I thought we should aim for something a little more… mainstream. Eventually, we decided on a format based on the original Law & Order. I think it’s fair to say that we both liked the idea but neither of us loved it. One afternoon, I got a call from Steve with a tweak that put the spot over the top. The ad was always going to be about the closing of Longwood Elementary, a huge issue in the district that transcended partisan politics. What was appealing about the Law & Order approach was that it allowed the “prosecutor” to make a rapid series of dramatic points that reflected how parents and kids felt about what had happened. Steve’s idea was simple and brilliant: “Let’s make the prosecutor a kid!”
The rest, as they say, is history. We were able to find an incredible collection of young actors, most of whom had never acted on camera before. We got the whole thing shot in a couple of hours and it turned out even better than we’d hoped. The young man who played the “prosecutor” was the only cast member who’d ever acted before… and his experience showed. When the ad was unveiled on YouTube, it created so much buzz that it got featured on a couple of the local news shows and several local political web sites.
I always feel fortunate when I can look back on a project and, after the passage of time, still feel that it turned out well. That was certainly the case here but, as is so often the case with projects that yield exceptional results, this one was a genuinely collaborative effort. But more important than that, it was a blast!