Privilege: a Primer

I’ve been reading a lot lately about the idea of “privilege.” It’s not something I heard much about growing up, but it’s a huge factor in discussions of everything from women in church to food security. Sadly, it’s also turning into something of a battleground, where phrases like “white privilege” and “male privilege” shut down conversations rather than open them and exclude certain groups of people as enemies rather than including them as allies. Still, I think it is an important topic to consider, and if you’re not familiar with this discussion, here’s a brief introduction to the topic.

What is privilege?

Privilege usually refers to something systematic in a society or culture that aids, benefits, or promotes a group of people with certain attributes. This can be influenced by many things, including history, culture, and even our understanding of what it means to be human.

In the US, traditionally, white males have held more political and financial power than males or females of other races. Although I would say that only a minority of white males today are actually racist or sexist, this structural bias continues to exist even as cultural norms and individual attitudes towards opportunity and capability change. This kind of privilege is perhaps the most controversial, because individuals today are rarely directly responsible for perpetuating historical structural privilege, but they are often turned into scapegoats by other groups that feel marginalized by the current system.

Systematic privilege can also be a result of culture and marketing. In the US, we have a strong cultural bias towards youth and attractiveness, including attributes like thinness, tan skin, curves, and sleek hair (in females) and strength, height, and deep voices (in males). People who exhibit these traits are likely to receive all kinds of favors from society, from big things like fame and fortune to little things like being able to get out of speeding tickets. Their lives will simply be easier than those who do not exhibit these traits, although in other cultures and times the list of desirable attributes may be different.

Privilege can also occur in ways we don’t even consider. When I lived overseas, I learned that that being a natural citizen in your own country rather than being a foreigner who doesn’t speak the dominant language can become a kind of privilege. Whether it exposes you to scorn from a snooty waiter when you mispronounce a dish on the menu or if it means you have a harder time communicating at the bank or grocery store, it’s something that influences every aspect of everyday life. It’s nobody’s fault, but it’s very real. And since I’ve had chronic fatigue for the past couple of years, I’ve learned that basic assumptions like “you should be able to stand up in the line for airport security for at least half an hour without trouble” aren’t always true for me right now, and society hasn’t always provided good alternatives (although people are usually really nice when I explain what’s going on). I’ve had to use a wheelchair to get around even though I appear healthy on the outside. Believe it or not, good health or a lack of food allergies can create a kind of privilege – something I’ll follow up on in a later post.

So privilege isn’t just about things that are somebody’s “fault,” like racism or sexism. Sometimes, systems just emerge in society through no individual fault that affect one group of people more than others or make it hard for one group of people to participate fully. However, I have discovered that because the US has strong accessibility regulations and a culture that seeks to empower people with physical limitations, our society has actually worked to overcome “healthy privilege” and make it easier for people with disabilities or illness function as complete members of society. We’re not perfect, and we could still make progress in a lot of areas, but I have a new appreciation for the strides we have made – and the importance of continuing to improve!

Ironically, some types of privilege are more strongly visible in the church. We see “spiritual privilege” in the way pastors and missionaries and full-time church workers are seen as closer to God than everyone else. Married couples and those with children are often unintentionally elevated above singles and childless couples. Men are often not encouraged or allowed to work with children and prepare for fatherhood unless they already have children of their own. A lot of congregations aren’t very diverse, either in opinion or skin color. Subtle social cues can minimize the contributions and even the humanity of people who don’t seem to measure up or who don’t match the “norm.” At worst, they can result in the exclusion of people who are different, something I’ll also follow up on in a later post.

What’s the problem?

The problem isn’t that we have privilege, because everyone has some kind of privilege. The problem is more about unexamined privilege and the ways it can alienate others, especially people from cultures or subcultures different from our own.

Think of an area where you’ve struggled for a long time, whether it’s related to something like finances, health, or relationships. Have you ever met someone who – even unintentionally – seemed to flaunt their success in the area you were struggling with? Sometimes, even complaining can come across badly, like when a mom of five kids complains about how crazy her life is to a friend who has struggled for years to have a child. Privilege isn’t bad, but it’s important to be considerate with others who may not share a particular privilege. This doesn’t mean we should always be afraid of offending others, but we should learn what kinds of attitudes and phrases are hurtful in different situations if we want to overcome the gaps that social and structural privilege create in our lives.

Why do we care?

If we all have different kinds of privilege and we’re never going to create a perfectly equal society (especially as cultural trends come and go), why does privilege matter? If it’s not our fault and we’re not hurting anybody, why should we evaluate our own privilege and get to know people who are different from us?

For me, this comes down to two things: justice and connection – and I really do believe the two go together. The justice aspect of the issue is highly relevant in current cultural discussions of privilege. In a strong, healthy, equitable society, structural elements that makes life more difficult for a group of people through no fault of their own should be eliminated or altered to promote equal access. Sometimes, these systems aren’t bad – like stairs. There’s nothing wrong with stairs, but they prevent people who use wheelchairs from having full access to a building without alternatives like elevators or ramps. Sometimes, though, the embedded systems (cultural, historical, or legal) are the problem and need to be changed. I think the benefits of promoting accessibility are pretty obvious to most people, although the specifics of how to do this can get complicated. But if we’re trying to follow the example of Christ, I think it’s clear that we are to look to people like the widow, the fatherless, and the foreigner – people whose lives are naturally more difficult – and make a special effort to ensure they are fully integrated into society.

To me, connection is even more important and fundamental. If we never look at the areas of our privilege and evaluate the way society treats us based on those privileges, we will find it very difficult to make deep, meaningful connections with people who are not like us or who have had a very different experience living in our society. It is easy to surround ourselves with people at or near our level of privilege and forget that entire other worlds exist even within the same cities and churches. We limit our understanding of life and the world when we don’t befriend people with different histories and perspectives. We limit our growth when we alienate ourselves from people with different backgrounds. And we miss out on wonderful cultural experiences and expressions of humanity when we just stick with the people we’ve always known.

What can we do about it?

In church growing up, we usually called our privileges “blessings,” and we were taught to be grateful for them and share them with others out of our abundance. But we missed this crucial point of “checking our privilege,” of stopping to recognize where social privileges had become ingrained inside us and where they were separating us from others with fewer or different kinds of privileges.

Even as we tried to bridge the gap with generosity, this way of thinking locked us into an “us vs. them,” “more fortunate vs. less fortunate” way of thinking. When you view people this way, it’s difficult to connect, even if your intentions are good. We first have to recognize that we all have privileges, and we all have needs. None of us are exempt from this cycle of giving and receiving. It’s easy to reinterpret the message “it’s better to give than receive” not as an antidote to selfishness, but as a way to earn our value and worth as human beings through amassing privilege that allows us to give to others. When we get trapped in that way of thinking, we ironically become even more obsessed with privilege because we can’t afford to lose any of our own standing.

One way forward that I see is simply widening our circle of friends and acquaintances. Instead of trying to “share” some of our privilege with those who are less fortunate (i.e. through donating food to other countries), we can become like Christ, abhorring our status in society and getting to know other people as equals, participating both in giving and receiving in community with them. We can listen to and invite their perspective even when it’s an outsider view. We can hear and try to understand their stories as something that can enrich our own knowledge of God and the world instead of as a “sob story” that should move us to a particular action or something so different from us that there can be no communion. We can try to enter their world, humbly, seeking to learn, although I’ve done this twice in different countries and it’s not easy. It takes a real commitment to growth and a willingness to try and fail and try again. Most importantly, we can learn to see others as people and friends, not as categories (a great post on that at “Alise Write” here).

Secondly, we can also go out of our way as individuals to make the lives of other individuals easier. This can range from opening a door for someone pushing a stroller because you have “free hands privilege” to helping someone load their bags on a train because you have “strength privilege” or inviting an outsider to a family gathering and making them feel welcome because you have the privilege of family or community (which are always a privilege!). Yes, some of that’s a little facetious, but it’s not a bad way to evaluate our strengths and weaknesses at any given time. It gives us a way to see what we can offer to others in a healthy way.

This is just a brief overview based on some basic reading I’ve done, so I’m sure I’ve missed a lot of nuances and subtleties. But, if thinking about this helps us treat other people as equals and get to know them on their own terms, I don’t think we can go wrong – and we might even be able to make a few things right.

Posted in Culture, Ethics, Faith, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Life, Links, and Blog Update

I’ve been home from Europe for more than a year and a half now. My travels may be local right now (or at least within the continental United States), but in returning home I’ve discovered more about this place than I ever thought about before. I’m considering continuing this blog in a new direction over the next few months as I have time, exploring the politics, science, art, culture and faith of the people here at home – and in myself. I’ll probably also touch on health issues and navigating chronic conditions as I’ve also been working through chronic fatigue and have learned a lot about how our culture and even our politics can affect our health.

The last three or so years have upended a lot of my assumptions. About the world, about people, about what it means to be human, and about faith. I’m now beginning to examine the effects of challenging those assumptions.

I am grateful that this shift in my thinking wasn’t caused by huge losses. I know a lot of people who have been affected by that, and I can’t imagine what it’s like to question in the midst of grief. Even so, there’s a difference between actively exploring – purposefully expanding our minds – and being overwhelmed with questions that spring out of nowhere. It may be a good process, but in the middle of it, it’s also a difficult and disconcerting one.

Fortunately, I’ve had many companions on this journey. The blogs of Rachel Held Evans and Peter Enns have showed me that God is bigger than I ever thought he could be – and that I’m not the only one who’s asking questions. Soulation and the blog Ruby Slippers by Jonalyn Fincher have provided community and great discussion material. The books Still: Notes on a Mid-Faith Crisis by Lauren Winner, The Inner Voice of Love: A Journey Through Anguish to Freedom by Henri Nouwen, and several others have given me new insights and ways to walk out this process, even when it feels like I’m stuck in the middle. The women of faith quoted in Incandescence: 365 Readings with Women Mystics, translated by Carmen Acevedo (who turned out to be a friend of a friend of my mom, go figure), have walked beside me and shown me new ways to think of God.

Since my health is recovering after a chronic-fatigue-like meltdown, The X-Files has accompanied and inspired me on my search for truth, and also terrified me during insomnia-affected nights. Scrubs let me live vicariously through the growth and struggles of J.D. and the gang and see what impact a few years and life changes can have on a character when time seems to be moving very slowly for me. Numb3rs was awesome while I was trying to figure out health stuff and couldn’t get off the couch. Fringe, which just ended after five well-earned seasons, was all about living and loving in the midst of unpredictability and change. And Supernatural offered yet another picture of life and God and choosing people and free will over rules and codes. It also taught me how to kill a whole bunch of terrifying monsters, which means I’m less afraid of the dark (the first five seasons are the best)! And lately, The Walking Dead (or The Walking “Bleeggghhh” as my family calls it) has been reminding me just how much beauty there is in the world, no matter how bad the circumstances. No, really.

Stories are important. Sometimes, they’re just entertainment, which is also important, but they have the potential to be much more. They shape us, and we shape them, and they open windows into worlds we may never see. Whether experienced on a TV screen, in the dark of a theater, or in the pages of a book, stories surround us and piece together the fragmented events of life into a whole. Jesus taught in stories. Pretty much the whole Old Testament is stories. Stories are really important.

As for music, Mumford and Sons are of course also awesome, whether or not you’re walking through questions. When you are, the song Thistle and Weeds is particularly great. “So plant your hope with good seeds; don’t cover yourself with thistle and weeds…” The Avett Brothers, Florence and the Machine, The Decemberists, and Carbon Leaf all tie for second. The entire catalog of 80s power ballads tie for third, thanks again to Supernatural. Carry on, my wayward son…

I also discovered I’m a foodie, a few months before I discovered I have food allergies. Fun! The eGullet forums, Ideas in Food, and Serious Eats have provided me with endless inspiration and enjoyment, and continue to give me something to do on the days I can get up and move around. Now I’m even working on a cookbook with a friend. Viva molecular gastronomy!

I’m considering posting some thoughts about other blogs and books as I come across them over the next few months. A lot of my views on different issues are shifting, and I’ve found a lot of helpful resources, but it might be nice to collate them and explain where they fall in the midst of my journey. Perhaps others will find them helpful as they walk their own paths. It won’t be very organized, but I think having notes all in one place and searchable by topic would be helpful! I’ll probably also share some recipes and health information I’ve stumbled upon as I’ve been recovering from chronic fatigue. That can also be a confusing process, so I may start with some information about what’s out there in the world of medicine and alternative care for chronic conditions. Sojourning through my own humanity has been fascinating and terrifying all at once.

Lastly, the blog Momastary has become one of my favorite online destinations. The honesty, warmth, and community of that blog have shown me a new face of beauty. You may disagree with some of what the author says in this post, but I think her joy shines through every word. Her love for Jesus – raw, open, fierce love – inspires me to follow the questions and discover who they lead to rather than just give up when things seem too complicated. I hope one day to love as much as she certainly seems to. I challenge you to see her heart, the power that love has to change people’s lives. All people’s lives.

On Faith

Note: I have joined the Amazon affiliates program, which means if you click on any of the book or video links above and make a purchase, I will get a small commission and Amazon may place a small temporary cookie on your machine. I will only recommend things that I have enjoyed or found helpful! Most of the TV shows are available on Amazon Prime or Netflix. Hope you enjoy them as much as I have!

Posted in Books, Faith, Identity, Songs | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Woman of Valor

This post was written for Rachel Held Evans’s “Woman of Valor” week. It is a little lighter than many of the entries shared on her blog, but I am thrilled to celebrate this woman of valor on my own little corner of the internet as she has changed my life and impacted the lives of many others.

Teresa Moon: Authentic Leader, Cultural Communicator

Let’s try a quick word association. “Communicator.” What did you picture? My woman of valor may be the only person on planet earth who heard that word and thought “Teenagers!”

After working in education for approximately two decades, Teresa Moon realized that because so many Christian youth are taught simply to repeat standard “apologetics” answers about faith, they never learn how to dialogue with people from different backgrounds. Worse, when they start to ask questions about their own faith, rejection quickly follows. Just as the voices of women and minorities have often been marginalized in the church, the questions and fears of the next generation have been left unspoken – or at least unheard.

Every year since 1997, Teresa has traveled the US (and now the world) with a crew of teenagers, creating safe spaces in churches and schools for young people to discover the power of their voices. She founded the Institute for Cultural Communicators in Murfreesboro, Tennessee to enable more students to learn basic communication skills. She also developed a network of local Chapter communities where students can gather and learn to ask good questions, respect people who see the world differently, and exercise their own creativity and potential for innovation.

Her vision has been earth-shattering for many of us. I was an arrogant, know-it-all 14-year-old who never fit in at church – or anywhere else – when she taught me that I could use my words to connect with people instead of alienating them. I learned to listen and to ask others why they saw things the way they did. This enabled me to succeed overseas at one of the United Kingdom’s most prestigious universities and to build friendships with people from cultures all over the world.

But a vision like Teresa’s – to equip youth with the skills they need to impact their communities now and in the future – doesn’t come without a fight in today’s Christian culture. Teresa travels tirelessly, coaching dozens of teams of teenagers each year as they put on conferences, develop leadership skills, and serve their peers around the world. She is also earning her doctorate in Strategic Leadership in order to equip Christian youth to face the challenges of the next generation. Her academic work on Millennials and their potential has been presented at several roundtables on innovation and future studies. As a scientist myself, I see intelligent people talking about good ideas all the time, but Teresa is the first person I have watched leave her office after a difficult day of writing and walk into a house full of teenagers ready to equip them to share a message of hope and transformation with the world.

Because of her example, Teresa’s students learn to speak on behalf of those without a voice in their own communities and around the world. From raising money to combat global slavery to speaking at city council meetings and state capitols on a variety of issues, these youth are already learning to look past their own fears in order to make a difference. They are being given the tools to think and speak in a way that will equip them to meet the questions, doubts, and brokenness of life with truth, grace, and love.

I am proud to know this woman of valor.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Chick-Fil-A Appreciation Day

I love Chick-Fil-A meals, even if being gluten free means I’m limited to salad and waffle fries. It means home, the South, and summer to me. But I think this whole debate over Dan Cathy’s comments has gotten off track and distracted both sides from what is truly important. (See my note at the end about where CFA donates money, which I think is another, though very important, issue).

So, Chick-Fil-A boycotters:

Dan Cathy’s comments (if they were really meant to address the issue of homosexuality – and I’m not sure the ORIGINAL comments were targeted at that, though later ones were) reflect the opinions of a large number of Americans. A few of these people are vindictive and hateful in their rhetoric. But most are not. Most of them are really trying to do their best to improve society. They’re not terrible people. Some are scared about how they see our country going; some are insecure; some have suffered for their lifestyle. Some of them have been raised in a world that doesn’t include a lot of diversity of opinion, and they haven’t been exposed to people or fears or issues outside of their own subculture.

If you disagree with the position of this group of people, the answer is not to cut off all contact with them and try to shame them into changing. This only adds fuel to fear and hatred. Confronting this group by refusing to do business with them will only make the problems of isolation worse.

We can disagree about policies all day long. We can reject public policies that we think are hurtful to certain groups of people – in fact, I think that’s pretty much a basic civic requirement if you’re going to live in a democratic country. But cutting off communication and spouting vitriol and hatred at people you disagree with is not the answer.

Now, Chick-Fil-A supporters:

The comments of people who disapprove of Dan Cathy’s position reflect the opinions of a large number of Americans. A few of these people are vindictive and hateful in their rhetoric. But most are not. Most of them are really trying to do their best to improve society. They’re not terrible people. Some are scared about how they see our country going; some are insecure; some have suffered for their lifestyle. Some of them have been raised in a world that doesn’t include a lot of diversity of opinion, and they haven’t been exposed to people or fears or issues outside of their own subculture.

If you disagree with the position of this group of people, the answer is not to cut off all contact with them and try to shame them into changing. This only adds fuel to fear and hatred. Confronting this group by refusing to do business with them will only make the problems of isolation worse.

We can disagree about policies all day long. We can reject public policies that we think are hurtful to certain groups of people – in fact, I think that’s pretty much a basic civic requirement if you’re going to live in a democratic country. But cutting off communication and spouting vitriol and hatred at people you disagree with is not the answer.

Note: I do understand if you don’t want your money to end up supporting things you disagree with, and now that I’ve done some research, CFA does donate a lot of money to some organizations I’m not sure I fully support. I hope we will all learn to use our money wisely, to support social good. And if, to you, that means not buying from Chick-Fil-A or Starbucks or whoever else, then I understand. But can we at least make an effort to engage with the other side? Can we get out there into the trenches and make a difference by connecting with actual people? Yes, it’s messy out in the middle. It’s a lot simpler when it’s “us” vs. “them” and we’re the good guys. But if we really want to make changes – if we really want society to move forward – we’re going to have to work together. And that means changing hearts and minds, one person at a time, and we can’t do that if we refuse to acknowledge the humanity of our counterparts and engage them respectfully.

More on this issue:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/ken-coleman/redefining-tolerance-chick-fil-a_b_1711677.html

http://rachelheldevans.com/chick-fil-a

http://momastery.com/blog/2012/07/30/progress/

Posted in America, Conversations, Culture, Ethics | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Einigkeit und Recht und Freiheit und den Helplessness Blues

I’ve been meaning to write about politics for a while, and given the recent debt ceiling crisis I thought now might be a good time. But I’m finding that politics makes me sad.

It’s especially hard when you live overseas. Most people are sure that if your country was just a bit more like theirs, then all your problems would be sorted. We all have our threshold for what is normal, and it’s difficult to think outside of that. When you’ve been taught all your life that it’s your efficient bureaucracy and enlightened agricultural policies that make your country great, it’s hard to understand someone who thinks that national success is measured by (for better or for worse) the success of a company or technological innovation. When “success,” “hard work,” and “the good life” mean completely different things in different cultures, it can be difficult to have a conversation that treats both parties fairly.

There are obviously many international policy issues that all countries are facing: economic instability, environmental problems, energy security, the changing balance of power, and the rapid (often ungovernable) advances of technology. There are also internal problems many developed countries are facing: an aging work force, high levels of debt, market instability, and inequality along class lines.

But the conversations taking place within each country often look remarkably different, even when the same issues are discussed. My Google News page has a sidebar showing local reports in Baden-Württemberg, the German state I live in. Things like the proposed building of a new train station in Stuttgart resulted in extensive and even violent protests by local citizens, whereas a similar project in the United States would likely be lauded as bringing jobs to the area. It’s possible people in the US might dislike it if it’s a huge waste of funds or would snarl traffic, but I doubt that disapproval would include violent confrontations with the police.

After many discussions with both Americans and Europeans, I’ve started to notice a core difference in philosophy. American political philosophy can probably be summed up in Thomas Jefferson’s three “unalienable rights:” life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Note that it’s the pursuit of happiness – not the attainment of it – that the government is responsible for protecting. In large part, Americans don’t expect the government to ensure that happiness is achieved, only that they will get a fair chance to strive for it. As Will Smith’s character Christopher Gardner puts it in The Pursuit of Happyness, “How did he know to put the ‘pursuit’ part in there? That maybe happiness is something that we can only pursue and maybe we can actually never have it?” Nobody likes to apply this to their own lives, as is clearly demonstrated by the rampant consumerism and a variety of other social ills in the US, but politically, I think most American voters would agree that these three rights form the core of our politics.

On the other hand, perhaps the most famous European political phrase is that of the French revolutionaries: Liberté, égalité, fraternité (or the German version, “Einigkeit und Recht und Freiheit” – unity, justice, and freedom). Although the “United States of America” co-opts the “unity” part, the effect of the individual’s “pursuit of happiness” on the American political environment is undeniable. Public discourse on both the left and the right is highly individualistic. As a result, America as a nation is also highly individualistic. The combined influence of two oceans, the very recent settling of the lonely “Wild West,” and interactions with other countries that predominantly consisted of emigrating from them have created a unique national narrative. Independence is the rule, and for the most part, people very much wish to be left alone – by the government and by other countries.

In the ideal case, such a political philosophy would lead to the flourishing of the individual, and by extension the collective. This is the narrative many Americans perceive for the USA. Although our educational system is not as rigorous as those in many Asian countries, for example, “freer” classrooms and curricula (in the best cases) promote the development of lateral thinking, artistic expression, and innovation. A huge number of technological and scientific advancements come from the US, and many Americans will point to those as examples of where this “pursuit of happiness” philosophy breeds success. After all, as was pointed out by the British Professor Arturo on the TV show Sliders (sci-fi shoutout!), “The idea of freedom is reborn with every generation; only one generation ever created the U.S. Constitution.” Most Americans are not yet willing to sacrifice this aspect of government, which is why there is so much discussion of whether a policy might be “unconstitutional” rather than simply a good or bad idea. Whether or not we are interpreting the Constitution and other founding documents correctly and/or whether they should adapt for modern times is another (important) discussion, but it is a fundamentally different one than takes place in European countries.

For better or worse, the concept of “brotherhood” or “fraternity” is simply not one of America’s traditional core values. This is difficult for Europeans to understand as it is so ingrained into their political and cultural philosophy. Even if strict communism was unsustainable in a few specific cases, many European countries (often quite successfully) rely on a balance between free markets and careful, active government intervention. Even in personal matters, the government often gets involved. In Germany, instead of relying on individuals to make alimony payments every month (hoping that the responsible parent doesn’t simply move to a different state to avoid paying), the appropriate government agency actually withdraws the amount from the individual’s bank account every month and transfers it to the child’s legal guardian. Most Americans would see this as an enormous breach of personal rights, freedoms, and privacy, regardless of the benefits to society or the efficacy of such a policy.

In the end, this also means that we solve problems in very different ways. Where Europeans tend to blame national problems on poor governance, Americans often blame more personal flaws. Poor economic policy might increase the number of thefts, yes; but so might a lack of moral training or lower moral standards in today’s culture. Where Europeans see a governmental crisis, Americans see a cultural or even a religious one. In some ways, this is an integral part of the American system. John Adams himself is quoted as saying, “Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.” In that (particular) sense, America demands more of its citizens morally than European governments do, even though they often fail, and increasing government intervention almost carries a sense of moral surrender for many Americans. (Note – I wrote this before the London riots. Much of the European discussion after the riots actually included this debate between personal morality and government policy).

Neither system is perfect, and neither system is impossibly flawed. In many ways, the “united states” concept is the epitome of what the European Union is striving for economically and socially. In others, the long history of isolationism and emphasis on individual rights has led to excesses and abuses in the American political and economic systems. When you add conflicts like the Cold War (primarily seen as a war between capitalism and communism by many Americans) as well as the complication of terrorism and our history as an extremely diverse nation of immigrants, for many Americans, isolationism (except where American interests are threatened) still seems like a pretty sensible policy. Ideas that seem entirely non-controversial to Europeans – like a “European-style healthcare system” – sound suspiciously like an attempt to slip “brotherhood” into the Declaration of Independence.

And maybe it should be there. Europeans certainly think so. Many Asian cultures would agree on at least a local level. Even most Americans probably agree that the hyper-individualism the US has cultivated over the past centuries needs to be rethought. The world is shrinking. Thanks to the internet, people are starting to shift away from this philosophy of strict isolationism. We are starting to realize – in European countries and in the US – how actions as simple as buying coffee can affect our global neighbors. We are beginning to walk the tension between individual rights and global community, between personal responsibility and corporate culpability, and between freedom and fraternity.

We see that we have a role to play on the global stage, but we’re also not sure exactly how much of ourselves to give up to the system. Europe offers one balance; Asia another. But given our ingrained streak of stubborn independence, I wouldn’t be surprised if America comes up with something entirely different as it grows up into the international community. How do we establish a new system that will promote innovation without ignoring the needs of the less fortunate? How do we reconcile historical injustice with modern economic disparity? Who should be most responsible for fixing the debt crisis?

A lot of people have ideas – good ones, even. But before we start talking about them and pitting them against each other on Youtube videos and talk shows, perhaps we should revisit these fundamental values and figure out what influence we want them to have over today’s policies, not to mention where they’ve worked (or haven’t) around the world in the past. Perhaps with the air cleared and these fundamental ideas at least out in the open, we can carry on a real discussion about policy with less rhetorical baggage and partisan grandstanding. Times are changing rapidly. We can’t afford to ignore this debate even in the face of more immediate concerns. If we do, we run the risk of losing half the country’s support on policy solutions that are desperately needed – policy solutions that might possibly even be improved by incorporating some of the considerations of the other side.

I’ve heard it said that in England, the chicken crosses the road in order to get to the middle. Perhaps this is one lesson, at least, we could stand to import from Europe.

Helplessness Blues
Fleet Foxes

I was raised up believing I was somehow unique
Like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes, unique in each way you can see
And now after some thinking, I’d say I’d rather be
A functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me

But I don’t, I don’t know what that will be
I’ll get back to you someday soon – you will see

What’s my name, what’s my station, oh, just tell me what I should do
I don’t need to be kind to the armies of night that would do such injustice to you
Or bow down and be grateful and say “sure, take all that you see”
To the men who move only in dimly-lit halls and determine my future for me

And I don’t, I don’t know who to believe
I’ll get back to you someday soon you will see

If I know only one thing, it’s that everything that I see
Of the world outside is so inconceivable often I barely can speak
Yeah I’m tongue-tied and dizzy and I can’t keep it to myself
What good is it to sing helplessness blues, why should I wait for anyone else?

And I know, I know you will keep me on the shelf
I’ll come back to you someday soon myself . . .

Posted in America, Conversations, Culture, Redemption, Songs | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

Symbol in Science: The End

Dang it, WordPress forgot me again. But, I got to go home for a few weeks and I’m just about over the jet lag from being back! My friends will testify: jet lag makes me seriously loopy. Going home made me start thinking about politics again, so I hope to put some thoughts together on that next week. In the meantime: science!

Question: Does salt water conduct electricity?

Observation: Other ionic solids dissolved in water conduct electricity.

Hypothesis: Yes, because other ionic solids do.

Experiment: Try to power a light bulb by connecting a battery through a beaker of salt water.

Conclusion: Yes, salt water conducts electricity.

Easy enough – we started with a question relating to the physical world, moved to a conceptual prediction based on our experience, performed a physical experiment, and then ended with a factual statement based on a physical reality.

Things get a little more complicated as soon as we want to do more than make observations. This result is useful if I want to know the answer to whether I might electrocute myself by using a hairdryer in the shower, but it’s not so useful if I want to understand the electrical properties of salt water. The next question, once a physical result is obtained, is “why?”

Question: Why does salt water conduct electricity?

Observation: Characterisation methods tell us that salt is made up of sodium and chloride ions. Theories of electricity tell us that electricity is carried by freely moving charged particles.

Hypothesis: Na+ and Cl- ions separate and become freely mobile when salt is dissolved in water.

Experiment: Now things become a bit more complicated. We know from other experiments that moving charges conduct electricity, but I can’t actually observe that the two ions separate in solution – they’re too small. I can run experiments in pure water and pure salt to see whether the individual components conduct electricity, and then I can reasonably conclude that something special happens to salt in water that makes it conduct electricity. The most obvious thing would be the separation of charges. But the way to prove that separate charges are formed is to see if salt water conducts electricity! I have to take the knowledge I have from other experiments about how electricity works and infer that Na+ and Cl- ions are created because the solution conducts electricity, and nothing else in the solution should be able to do that.

Conclusion: By designing a clever experiment, I can reasonably infer that NaCl separates into Na+ and Cl- ions in water.

But is this a “factual” result? It is based on observation, but which world are we really in? The experiment was “indirect,” in a sense, because we relied on knowledge and a conceptual framework from previous experiments to confirm that the charges separate – a solid “NaCl” block has no net charge and therefore, according to theory, would not be conducting. Our question was more complicated and couldn’t directly be answered by looking through a microscope. I would argue we are now operating almost entirely in the conceptual world. It’s a very particular kind of conceptual world with strict mathematical definitions (“salt,” “charges,” “conduct,” and “electricity” are all very carefully defined symbols that reflect very specific ideas described by mathematical equations), but we are in the world of symbols and ideas nonetheless.

It is the attention to detail and accuracy – and the key breakthrough of using mathematical symbols to describe phenomena – that makes science so powerful. But even in science, we constantly live the dualism of “conceptual” and “physical.” Their interaction is governed very carefully by a detailed set of rules (the scientific method), but “hand-wavy” definitions of concepts like electrons and positrons and dark matter necessarily exist in order to communicate the concepts and operate on those concepts in the world of ideas.

Scientists must be able to form good mental pictures in order to use their conceptual prowess to design new experiments, infer new hypotheses, and explain results. A lot of times we lump all of this together under the heading “theory,” but this process relies on the formation of a mental picture. Understanding and pattern matching are inextricably linked to the world of ideas, even if the ideas reflect specific physical realities. For example, throughout university, my mental picture for electrical charges looked a lot like the bar magnets I learned about when I was a child. I “picture” electrical charges behaving just like little refrigerator magnets with north and south poles that attract each other because that was a picture that made sense to me – similar charges repel and opposite charges attract. Sorted. This worked really well until I started studying real magnetism. My lack of a robust, accurate picture prevented me from applying equations and symbols in the correct way, meaning I didn’t get the same answers on my assignment sheets as my professors did.

So is science primarily concerned with physics or metaphysics? I would say that science places great emphasis on physical reality, and this is part of what makes it so powerful. Anytime metaphysics gets involved, it is very carefully monitored to prevent too much messiness, confusion, or bias. But, although most of our time is spent running experiments, scientists mainly concern themselves with the conceptual realm. We spend a lot of time reading the results of other scientists, but we don’t do it to make lists of everything that works. We read in order to gather conceptual principles that will help us build a more accurate mental framework for our discipline. This process of inferring, understanding, and applying concepts – rather than just facts – allows us to invent new ideas and solve new problems.

Some results are based on dumb luck or brute force, but I would argue that the best scientists have robust, disciplined, and very active imaginations. Without this, it’s impossible to identify patterns, develop theories, or uncover new truths – as opposed to basic observations – about the world. I would also argue that science programs should be careful not to ignore this aspect of the scientific mind. Clearly, facts are important, and scientists should have a reasonable number of them at their disposal by the time they graduate in order to have a good foundation for research. Science education partially incorporates the development of a scientific imagination through the grounding in theoretical frameworks – most of my undergrad classes involved an awful lot of handwaving to describe the motion of electrons as well as the mathematical formulae.

But I think science education should also actively teach students how to develop this kind of robust, curious, disciplined imagination in order to prepare students to solve new problems and design their own research. The shift from “knowing” to “understanding” can be made using good symbols and a few clear diagrams; but the transition from “understanding” to “applying” requires a solid understanding of the use of symbols, their relationship to the physical world, the rules for using them in science as opposed to everyday life, and an inner drive to improve them and find new ones, both individually and corporately. Most scientists have this conceptual curiosity, but they lack a philosophical framework in which to develop it alongside their research. Lost in the details, students are unable to see the beauty of the living concepts and the necessity of developing their imaginations in a way that will allow them access to the wide world of ideas.

To conclude this woefully inadequate series on the nature of symbol and its relationship with reality and the world of ideas, I hope that this suggests a framework for thinking about the dualism of physics and metaphysics. This is by no means fully developed, and I think it is an open question even in philosophy of science. But even if it isn’t possible to fully grasp the complexity of symbol and the world of ideas, they are a gift to our race, and one that I hope will be better understood and respected in the future. To be fair, though, it is a gift I often take for granted – especially when the maths don’t add up!

How do you use symbols in everyday life?

Posted in Nature, Philosophy, Science | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Symbol in Science

Now that we’ve looked at the world of ideas and how symbols give us access to that world – albeit in a particularly messy fashion – I wanted to come full circle and look at the use of symbol in science (at least in my limited experience in Chemistry and rudimentary Physics). Science is centered on developing a correct understanding of physical reality, but in order to accomplish anything besides making lists of observations, the world of ideas must be engaged and symbols brought into use. So what makes the scientific use of symbol different? And why are so many scientists reluctant to acknowledge a metaphysical reality?

What we call “science” has a few key components, including falsifiability, observability, repeatability, consistency, and mathematical correspondence. “Falsifiability” governs the kinds of hypotheses scientists can propose: they must, in theory, be able to be proven wrong by experiment. “Salt water conducts electricity” is falsifiable because we could test it and see if it is true; thus, “invisible, unobservable fairies live in water and make it conduct electricity” would not be a scientific hypothesis. Observability is not always strictly followed – the technology doesn’t yet exist to allow us to physically observe some aspects of theoretical physics suggested by mathematics – but it is usually important. Repeatability is vital; scientists tests systems over and over to make sure they get the same results. If you can only demonstrate something once, it’s not truly scientific.

Consistency with previous theories is a controversial point; according to Kuhn’s philosophy of science, scientist ought to set out to disprove current theories, so that science will progress (at least at times of theoretical crisis). Most scientists, however, operate within a well-supported body of knowledge and theory, and their results – unless they have a boatload of very convincing evidence – should be consistent with that body of knowledge. Revolution does happen in science, but it is usually slow, painful, and destroys a few careers along the way.

Mathematical correspondence is one of the key things that separates science from other methods of evaluating the world (like philosophy). Mathematics provides a very powerful set of symbols and rules that allow extremely precise description of physical phenomena. Newton’s laws of motion, although later replaced by quantum theory, use mathematical formulae to describe the path of a cannonball after it’s been fired, the distance a baseball will travel when thrown at a certain speed and angle, and how to get a rocket to the moon. Quantum theory describes the behaviour of particles. Fick’s law describes diffusion. The list goes on. These simple – or complex – combinations of symbols (numbers and variables) and the rules governing them (addition, subtraction, multiplication, differentiation, etc.) define certain concepts in an extremely precise – although often hard-to-visualize – manner.

For example, I could describe an electron as “a tiny, negatively charged particle.” It’s a pretty arbitrary and messy description. How tiny? What’s a particle? What does this tell us about its behaviour? Or, I could show you an equation:

PR = ∫R |ψ(x,y,z)|2 dV

Which might not make much sense unless you’ve studied physics, but if you have, you’ll know that a wavefunction can tell you about the position and momentum of a subatomic particle. Coupled with Schroedinger’s Equation, you can learn about how the system changes over time, in a probabilistic update to Newton’s Laws.

As there is a well-developed body of mathematical knowledge, mathematical correspondence is very important in science. Graphs, equations, symbols, and the ability to predict something mathematically are extremely powerful ways of communicating and defending new ideas.

The use of mathematical symbols to describe nature, and, presumably, reality, is one thing that sets science apart. But science’s relationship with symbols and the metaphysical world of ideas doesn’t end there. Over time, a strict protocol has emerged to govern the way science is done in order to ensure the most accurate (and ideally the most “true”) results, removing the bias of individual observers. This is simplistically described by the scientific method: problem, observation, hypothesis, experiment, conclusion. When a question about the natural world arises, scientists search through their field’s body of knowledge and observe the situation to create a hypothesis or a theory answering the question. Then, clever experiments are designed to test the theory. If they agree, the results are published to be tested by other researchers. If they don’t, the theories are modified and more experiments are conducted until the results can be explained.

How does this relate to symbolism and the world of ideas? Most people think that science is concerned with “facts” at every stage of the process, but three of the five stages – question, hypothesis, and conclusion – occur almost entirely within the world of ideas. They are conceptual phases. What makes science special is the rules governing the transition from conceptual to physical.

When a concept is developed in science – a concept that must be falsifiable – it is immediately subjected to some kind of physical test to provide evidence for it. If the evidence conflicts with the theory, the concept must immediately be altered to fit the results (unless it’s a well-established theory, in which case the scientist looks for a flaw in the experimental setup). In everyday life, our conceptualisations are usually much more robust. If you hear a rumor that a good friend you’ve known for twenty years is gossiping about you behind your back, you usually disregard the rumor because it doesn’t fit what you know about your friend. Our concepts, the mental “ideals” that are represented by symbols, are shaped by a lifetime of experiences and interactions with people and the natural world. We develop theories of human behaviour, consequences, and the way the world works almost without realizing it, and usually without direct, physical tests of whether they actually correspond to reality.

This isn’t necessarily a bad way to live, if we’re careful about what influences our mental world and remain open to change. But because we usually don’t have the time or resources to spend years testing the same hypothesis dozens or hundreds of times, our metaphysical concepts lack the same kind of precise accuracy seen in science. “Haste makes waste” may be true in your subjective experience, but it’s not properly falsifiable or testable on a large scale, so it remains a “proverb” or piece of “wisdom” rather than a scientific hypothesis.

Science therefore has three features that make it an extremely powerful method for learning about the world: accurate symbols, the drive to constantly refine and change the concepts those symbols refer to based on new facts, and a strict method of correspondence between the world of ideas and the physical world. Using these three safeguards, science usually (but not always) avoids the problem of bias, the subjectivity of experience, and the messiness of normal symbols. This does not, however, make science an endeavor purely concerned with the physical world as many assume.

In the next part, I’ll give an example of how the scientific method works and illustrate the dualism inherent in scientific processes. As scientific problems get more complicated and less based on observable facts, the level of metaphysics involved increases dramatically.

So tell me – do you love or hate math? :)

Posted in Uncategorized | 3 Comments