The letter came in the mail this week. The news was disturbing but not surprising. The Louisville Orchestra is still unable to pay its bills and "continues to operate with an annual structural deficit of approximately $850,000." After the trouble three years ago and the massive public and private bailout to save the Orchestra, my wife and I did our part to support the Orchestra, an organization we believe makes for a better Louisville; we have been season ticket holders for the last three seasons. Also, throughout my years in Kentuckiana I have continuously supported the Fund for the Arts. "Even with increases in ticket revenue (up 8% in FY05) and donation and sponsorship income (up 10% in FY05)… it is probable that [the Orchestra’s] current financial position will affect the remainder of the current season." They tentatively reassure us that, "the Orchestra will do everything in its power to honor [our] ticket purchases."
We are willing to step up our direct support to the Orchestra, if it will make a difference in keeping it solvent. I only hesitate because I worry that I am just throwing good money after bad. Would I be sad if our town lost its orchestra? Most certainly. I would be even sadder to see the Orchestra draining resources from our community, because it won’t learn to live within its means.
Don’t get me wrong. I understand that there is a price to be paid to keep talented musicians, but I find it hard to believe that there is not some fat to be found in the budget and room for compromise. And if the Orchestra can never survive on ticket revenues alone, then it had better learn to be more effective at fund raising. I wonder if Orchestra management has been too distracted with their conductor search to do the needed canvassing. There are plenty of deep pockets in this town who benefit from the Orchestra much more than working Joes like you and me – they have much better seats than we do too.
Though, I can’t imagine a more effective means of fund raising than for the Orchestra to have a crisis like this – it worked three years ago and it will probably work this year. Big business will make great gestures, but not as big as they might. After all, they know, just like you and I know that the city will step up and cover whatever shortfall there is. If the city is going to fund a bail out, then why should they bother? Why should I? I can save my money and spend it on something else. I might redirect my check to Habitat for Humanity, which is self-sustaining and works within its budget. It is also worthy of the contributions it gets because it promotes responsibility – it sets an example and donors can offer their support with confidence.
Our orchestra could use that kind of responsibility. I would love to be confident that upping my support would make a difference, but I cannot justify extending my support beyond the current level if the city steps in again. Sure, I would benefit directly from a bailout, if I continue to attend orchestra events. Since I work downtown, I pay Louisville’s city income tax. I don’t object to the city spending my tax dollars on the Orchestra; they took those taxes against my will; they may as well spend it on something I believe in. However, they are not spending only my tax dollars, and I will not advocate spending other people’s hard earned dollars on something that private interests should be supporting. The more that government takes responsibility, the less responsible that little pockets and big pockets alike become.
And have no doubt. Those who advocate a bailout will tell you how important the Orchestra is to our community, and that we all benefit from it in numerous tangible and intangible ways. Well if that is true, why not jump big? We could publicly fund the Orchestra, and not just a little, not just to fill the gaps. Let’s have the city pay for the whole damn thing. We can call it The Louisville Free Orchestra. Tickets will be available free of charge to all interested Louisville resident and non-resident taxpayers, by way of a lottery.
Can’t you just see it now? Standing in Whitney Hall, looking out across a sea of T-shirts, jeans, shorts, sneakers and flip-flops – not that some patrons don’t already dress that way, but they are in the minority. Better yet, many will be talking and even using cell phones. What a joy that will be – kind of like going to one of those dollar theaters that play second run movies. You can’t really complain. What do you expect for $1.00? What would you expect for free? And since the deep pockets aren’t footing the bill, you would no longer find them in the box seats, except by random chance or by way of scalped tickets. What is that sound? I can almost hear the rustling of deep pockets and scribbling in checkbooks.
And why is that? Because the deep pockets know that they benefit disproportionately from the Orchestra, both tangibly as with preferred seating and intangibly in terms of that stature the Orchestra lends to our city. Affluent cities have orchestras only because there are enough deep pockets to keep them afloat. The Orchestra is a bit of opulence that tells the world that Louisville is a Cadillac, an Acura or a Mercedes Benz – even if a compact one. Heaven forbid that the upper crust of Louisville society should have to drive a Hyundai to a dollar theater. Money attracts money, and in a real way, the Orchestra protects their existing investment in Louisville as a prestigious home.
I oppose the political attitude that says we should soak the rich. Today’s government already goes far beyond keeping the peace and protecting our rights. It seeks to fulfill our every want and need at the expense of the successful, and I think punishing success is morally repugnant. Yet with the Orchestra, we have a perfect opportunity to let the wealthy voluntarily carry the weight for us. We have to make sure they realize it is in their interest to do so. Letting Metro Government pay any part of another bailout lets them off the hook, while acting as a disincentive to rest, like me.
Missing a season or so may be just what is needed, and I will gladly forfeit the last half of our season tickets in the process. Most people won’t even notice, and before I became a supporter, I too would not have felt the impact. But the loss might lubricate those deep pockets, and perhaps it will wake up our fine musicians to the economic reality of their chosen profession, making them more receptive to compromise. I trust that native and transplanted musicians alike will find that our city offers them great benefit, just as the Orchestra offers our city.
2006-01-26
2006-01-19
What is White?
My father is full-blooded East Indian, the second generation born in Jamaica, the West Indies, and the first in his line to marry outside of the Indian community. My mother was born in Alabama, at least the second generation born in the US and believed to be of Scots-Irish and German heritage. My parents met and married in Chicago in the early 1950’s. My sisters were born on opposite sides of the planet, the first in Chicago, the second in India, and eventually my family ended up back in Jamaica, where I was born years later. Before I turned 5 years old, we moved to the US permanently.
Shortly after moving to Buffalo, NY, we settled in the northern suburbs, perhaps not completely by coincidence on Jamaica Road. As you might guess, we were the only family actually from Jamaica living on that street. There was a notable and diverse bunch of kids on our road, and for the most part we all played together. My best friend during that time, Alan, and his Irish-Catholic family, the Carmichaels, lived a few houses down on the same side of the street. Like me, he had two sisters who were older, but closer to our ages, especially the younger one, Kathy. Across the street lived a Jewish family, the Wolfishes, and their daughter Carol. Also across the street were Ricky and Susan Majerowski from a Polish-Catholic family. Farther up that side of the street was Reggie Marsh, the son of the only African-American family on our street at that time – to be honest, there could have been others, but I only remember the families with kids and our next door neighbors. In any case, I wouldn’t call them a token African-American family, not when you consider the diversity of ethnic communities represented.
Keep in mind, we lived there for a five year period starting in 1969, when I was only 5 years old – how integrated was your neighborhood back then? These kids were all within a year or two of my age, except the older of the Carmichael girls. Both Kathy and Susan were one or two years older, while their brothers Alan and Ricky were both a year or so younger than I was. Only Carol and Reggie were my age. I think Carol went to some sort of religious school, so Reggie was the only neighborhood kid in any of my classes. Unfortunately, he singled me out to bully, but I was not the only recipient of his aggression. He was always civil in the presence of authority figures.
There was some period of time early on, when the bullying was physical. He would push and taunt me during our four block walk home after school. One day I finally lost it. He was behind me, pushing, and I swung around and cold cocked him pretty sharply right on the chin. It was just a flash of penned up anger that finally burst out. When my fist connected with his chin, I saw the damage I could do and lost any will to fight. He tackled me, wrestled me to the ground and made me cry "uncle". It is true what they say about the psychology of my situation – I was more afraid of my own anger and capacity for violence than of getting hurt.
There was the predictable meeting of the parents, arising in part from Reggie’s complaints about his sore jaw. Reggie’s physical bullying stepped back a notch but continued for a while – perhaps to establish that he still had the upper hand – then eventually stopped. After that, he relied mostly on verbal bullying and intimidation. For example he enjoyed threatening to injure or poison our family’s cat. I guess it is no surprise that he tended not to socialize with the rest of the kids on the street. Regardless, Reggie and I had plenty of contact both in school and in the scouts.
We sustained a workable truce for most of those years. I find it sad that we did not learn to be real friends. After all, our fathers’ skin was equally dark, even if the tone and hue was somewhat different. In this regard, he had more in common with me than any other kid on the street. Yet, since my mother was White, I had just as much in common with the other kids on the street. This might have established my fondness for neutrality on life’s big questions. It may also explain why Reggie targeted me, possibly resenting how readily I integrated with the other kids. I have long considered in what ways I might have invited Reggie’s cruelty. Perhaps I was just a convenient target – playful and hyperactive, and pushy in my own way.
Sometime after our physical confrontation, I remember making a big blunder. One day, Reggie was still taunting me as we walked home. To throw him off, I parroted as best as I could, something my father had said. I told Reggie that he had a chip on his shoulder because he is "Negro" – this was the accepted term in Jamaica at the time; the term "Black" had not been widely adopted. In any case, Reggie started screaming that I had called him a "Nigger" and ran home. I had no idea what he was screaming. I had to ask my parents to explain it to me. It was only then that I learned of this horrible word, because I had never heard it before.
Not so for Reggie. That word must have been so deeply ingrained into Reggie’s sense of self that he expected to be victimized by it. Perhaps there was some truth to what my dad said about the chip on his shoulder. Of course, much of the blame must be attributed to a dysfunctional society in the midst of righting itself. And I don’t hold Reggie responsible for any racial bias passed on from his parents. My dad did his share to pass on his not-so-balanced worldview on race and in no way prepared me to handle Reggie’s personal issues.
My dad always demanded to be treated "White", and he raised us to expect to be treated as Whites. His bias was undeniable and unapologetic, though not entirely reconciled with his equally strong identity as an Indian. He was entrenched in the "us and them" paradigm. That’s how it was in Jamaica, where Africans were in the overwhelming majority. All other ethnicities, primarily British, Chinese and East Indians were few in number but affiliated strongly with each other. So in Jamaica, if you were Indian, you were considered White. It is possible – even likely that I unwittingly revealed some of this racial bias in a way that provoked Reggie. I would like to think otherwise but must allow for the possibility. We were just little kids; anything is possible. Except for the dubious "N word" incident, I hope that Reggie would look back and report that I never denigrated his race.
I felt much more White when I was still a child. We weren’t in Jamaica anymore, and I faced my share of discrimination as the years passed. My dad doubts whether I have any pride in my Indian heritage, because I legally shortened my last name when I was in my mid-twenties – my name at birth was Kirk Narinder Serabjit-Singh. In spite of this questionable choice, I do take my heritage seriously. Given my father’s view on being White, you might think that I would check the boxes next to "White" on all of those ethnicity questionnaires. I don’t. I also don’t dutifully check the boxes marked "Asian". Wherever possible I indicate my ethnicity as both White and Asian.
That is exactly how I reported my race on a Human Resources form that I submitted to one of my managers in the mid-1990’s. My manager delicately asked why I listed my race this way – not for any business related reason – but to satisfy his own curiosity. I explained that I felt equal claim to all of my ethnic make-up. He was surprised at my views. He expected that I would report myself simply as Asian. The view that any racial mixing corrupts Whiteness is typical in the United States. You are only White, if you have no claim to some other ethnicity. Contrast this with Jamaica, where all non-Africans seemed to consider themselves White. Even my first wife held this typical American view on White purity when we met. However, after hearing my perspectives on ethnicity, she was startled to see her own unconscious bias. She was White; my manager was Black.
Today, our society is undergoing tremendous demographic change. If I had known early in my career that eventually, half of my coworkers would be East Indians, I might never have shortened my name. Back then, it was much easier to navigate the business world with a short and simple name. Even now, I hear complaints that Indian names are difficult to pronounce and remember – to be honest, I have trouble with some of them too. Many people are patient and do what they can to adapt to our new neighbors. Others are fearful or resentful. India’s highly skilled and immense workforce is becoming a serious threat to America’s place in the world economy. There is a growing bias against the influx of Indians and outsourcing of jobs to India. The bias can be seen subtly in the workplace and on the street, and blatantly in the mass media. Again, I am somewhat neutral, allowing me affinity with both sides, if only at arm's length.
I understand that at first, I am a curiosity to my Indian peers. Until just a few years ago, there were very few East Indians in the US. Indians today can tell from my name and facial features that I must be Indian, but they are surprised at my first name, light skin, lack of accent and how well assimilated I am into western culture. Once they get to know me, I am no longer White, Indian or something in between – to them, I am All-American. Americans seem to agree and embrace me as one of their own, just as our new Indian immigrants might hope to be embraced. I doubt that Indians have much interest in being called White anyway, not when you consider India’s long history of occupation by invading White Europeans. On the other hand, I don’t suppose they would care to be confused with Africans. Calling them Asians lumps them together with the Chinese, Japanese, Koreans and other people of the far east, with whom they have little more in common. They are simply what they are – Indians.
That’s all that really matters – what we each think of ourselves. The real trick is to embrace your ethnic identity in a way that gives you a meaningful connection with your family, without coloring your view on others, or putting a chip on your shoulder. The first step is to ask yourself if you hold any of the biases I have described. What does Black and White mean to you? Me? I am White; I am Indian; I am a person of color in a rainbow of race and ethnicity. Take me as I am – judge me for my deeds.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Shortly after moving to Buffalo, NY, we settled in the northern suburbs, perhaps not completely by coincidence on Jamaica Road. As you might guess, we were the only family actually from Jamaica living on that street. There was a notable and diverse bunch of kids on our road, and for the most part we all played together. My best friend during that time, Alan, and his Irish-Catholic family, the Carmichaels, lived a few houses down on the same side of the street. Like me, he had two sisters who were older, but closer to our ages, especially the younger one, Kathy. Across the street lived a Jewish family, the Wolfishes, and their daughter Carol. Also across the street were Ricky and Susan Majerowski from a Polish-Catholic family. Farther up that side of the street was Reggie Marsh, the son of the only African-American family on our street at that time – to be honest, there could have been others, but I only remember the families with kids and our next door neighbors. In any case, I wouldn’t call them a token African-American family, not when you consider the diversity of ethnic communities represented.
Keep in mind, we lived there for a five year period starting in 1969, when I was only 5 years old – how integrated was your neighborhood back then? These kids were all within a year or two of my age, except the older of the Carmichael girls. Both Kathy and Susan were one or two years older, while their brothers Alan and Ricky were both a year or so younger than I was. Only Carol and Reggie were my age. I think Carol went to some sort of religious school, so Reggie was the only neighborhood kid in any of my classes. Unfortunately, he singled me out to bully, but I was not the only recipient of his aggression. He was always civil in the presence of authority figures.
There was some period of time early on, when the bullying was physical. He would push and taunt me during our four block walk home after school. One day I finally lost it. He was behind me, pushing, and I swung around and cold cocked him pretty sharply right on the chin. It was just a flash of penned up anger that finally burst out. When my fist connected with his chin, I saw the damage I could do and lost any will to fight. He tackled me, wrestled me to the ground and made me cry "uncle". It is true what they say about the psychology of my situation – I was more afraid of my own anger and capacity for violence than of getting hurt.
There was the predictable meeting of the parents, arising in part from Reggie’s complaints about his sore jaw. Reggie’s physical bullying stepped back a notch but continued for a while – perhaps to establish that he still had the upper hand – then eventually stopped. After that, he relied mostly on verbal bullying and intimidation. For example he enjoyed threatening to injure or poison our family’s cat. I guess it is no surprise that he tended not to socialize with the rest of the kids on the street. Regardless, Reggie and I had plenty of contact both in school and in the scouts.
We sustained a workable truce for most of those years. I find it sad that we did not learn to be real friends. After all, our fathers’ skin was equally dark, even if the tone and hue was somewhat different. In this regard, he had more in common with me than any other kid on the street. Yet, since my mother was White, I had just as much in common with the other kids on the street. This might have established my fondness for neutrality on life’s big questions. It may also explain why Reggie targeted me, possibly resenting how readily I integrated with the other kids. I have long considered in what ways I might have invited Reggie’s cruelty. Perhaps I was just a convenient target – playful and hyperactive, and pushy in my own way.
Sometime after our physical confrontation, I remember making a big blunder. One day, Reggie was still taunting me as we walked home. To throw him off, I parroted as best as I could, something my father had said. I told Reggie that he had a chip on his shoulder because he is "Negro" – this was the accepted term in Jamaica at the time; the term "Black" had not been widely adopted. In any case, Reggie started screaming that I had called him a "Nigger" and ran home. I had no idea what he was screaming. I had to ask my parents to explain it to me. It was only then that I learned of this horrible word, because I had never heard it before.
Not so for Reggie. That word must have been so deeply ingrained into Reggie’s sense of self that he expected to be victimized by it. Perhaps there was some truth to what my dad said about the chip on his shoulder. Of course, much of the blame must be attributed to a dysfunctional society in the midst of righting itself. And I don’t hold Reggie responsible for any racial bias passed on from his parents. My dad did his share to pass on his not-so-balanced worldview on race and in no way prepared me to handle Reggie’s personal issues.
My dad always demanded to be treated "White", and he raised us to expect to be treated as Whites. His bias was undeniable and unapologetic, though not entirely reconciled with his equally strong identity as an Indian. He was entrenched in the "us and them" paradigm. That’s how it was in Jamaica, where Africans were in the overwhelming majority. All other ethnicities, primarily British, Chinese and East Indians were few in number but affiliated strongly with each other. So in Jamaica, if you were Indian, you were considered White. It is possible – even likely that I unwittingly revealed some of this racial bias in a way that provoked Reggie. I would like to think otherwise but must allow for the possibility. We were just little kids; anything is possible. Except for the dubious "N word" incident, I hope that Reggie would look back and report that I never denigrated his race.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I felt much more White when I was still a child. We weren’t in Jamaica anymore, and I faced my share of discrimination as the years passed. My dad doubts whether I have any pride in my Indian heritage, because I legally shortened my last name when I was in my mid-twenties – my name at birth was Kirk Narinder Serabjit-Singh. In spite of this questionable choice, I do take my heritage seriously. Given my father’s view on being White, you might think that I would check the boxes next to "White" on all of those ethnicity questionnaires. I don’t. I also don’t dutifully check the boxes marked "Asian". Wherever possible I indicate my ethnicity as both White and Asian.
That is exactly how I reported my race on a Human Resources form that I submitted to one of my managers in the mid-1990’s. My manager delicately asked why I listed my race this way – not for any business related reason – but to satisfy his own curiosity. I explained that I felt equal claim to all of my ethnic make-up. He was surprised at my views. He expected that I would report myself simply as Asian. The view that any racial mixing corrupts Whiteness is typical in the United States. You are only White, if you have no claim to some other ethnicity. Contrast this with Jamaica, where all non-Africans seemed to consider themselves White. Even my first wife held this typical American view on White purity when we met. However, after hearing my perspectives on ethnicity, she was startled to see her own unconscious bias. She was White; my manager was Black.
Today, our society is undergoing tremendous demographic change. If I had known early in my career that eventually, half of my coworkers would be East Indians, I might never have shortened my name. Back then, it was much easier to navigate the business world with a short and simple name. Even now, I hear complaints that Indian names are difficult to pronounce and remember – to be honest, I have trouble with some of them too. Many people are patient and do what they can to adapt to our new neighbors. Others are fearful or resentful. India’s highly skilled and immense workforce is becoming a serious threat to America’s place in the world economy. There is a growing bias against the influx of Indians and outsourcing of jobs to India. The bias can be seen subtly in the workplace and on the street, and blatantly in the mass media. Again, I am somewhat neutral, allowing me affinity with both sides, if only at arm's length.
I understand that at first, I am a curiosity to my Indian peers. Until just a few years ago, there were very few East Indians in the US. Indians today can tell from my name and facial features that I must be Indian, but they are surprised at my first name, light skin, lack of accent and how well assimilated I am into western culture. Once they get to know me, I am no longer White, Indian or something in between – to them, I am All-American. Americans seem to agree and embrace me as one of their own, just as our new Indian immigrants might hope to be embraced. I doubt that Indians have much interest in being called White anyway, not when you consider India’s long history of occupation by invading White Europeans. On the other hand, I don’t suppose they would care to be confused with Africans. Calling them Asians lumps them together with the Chinese, Japanese, Koreans and other people of the far east, with whom they have little more in common. They are simply what they are – Indians.
That’s all that really matters – what we each think of ourselves. The real trick is to embrace your ethnic identity in a way that gives you a meaningful connection with your family, without coloring your view on others, or putting a chip on your shoulder. The first step is to ask yourself if you hold any of the biases I have described. What does Black and White mean to you? Me? I am White; I am Indian; I am a person of color in a rainbow of race and ethnicity. Take me as I am – judge me for my deeds.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Postlude
A quick check in an Internet phonebook (to confirm spelling) reveals to my surprise that all of those families from my youth still live on Jamaica Road. Every last one. We were the only one’s who moved away, my nomadic father never being content to stay in one place too long. I have not contacted anyone on my old street since I was 16. I wonder how Reggie is doing after all these years. I guess I should drop them a line and see what happened to the old gang.
A quick check in an Internet phonebook (to confirm spelling) reveals to my surprise that all of those families from my youth still live on Jamaica Road. Every last one. We were the only one’s who moved away, my nomadic father never being content to stay in one place too long. I have not contacted anyone on my old street since I was 16. I wonder how Reggie is doing after all these years. I guess I should drop them a line and see what happened to the old gang.
2006-01-18
Our First Date
Happy Anniversary my dearest Patricia!
We knew each other almost a year before going on our first date, four years ago today. From the moment we met, it seemed like we have always known each other. You are my haven, when the world is unbearable. You are the centered, tolerant and peaceful person I hope to be. Every day I count my blessings to have you in my life.
Your True Love,
Kirk
We knew each other almost a year before going on our first date, four years ago today. From the moment we met, it seemed like we have always known each other. You are my haven, when the world is unbearable. You are the centered, tolerant and peaceful person I hope to be. Every day I count my blessings to have you in my life.
Your True Love,
Kirk
2006-01-12
Complexapathy
Does it seem like everything is extremely complex these days? I am a tech-head, and most days I hardly notice, but when I see my own father struggling with things I consider to be relatively simple – remote controls, cell phones or his PC – it hits me how technical our world has become. This increasing complexity is probably a temporary trend, when it comes to using technology. Overall, the trend is to simplify the user experience. Even home computers are reaching a level of sophistication where they are starting to require less technical know-how. Plug and play is becoming a reality.
Some day we may raise a generation of people who won’t need to know how to operate the knobs of faucet, because the faucets will all turn on and off automatically. A future generation may not learn how to drive cars, because the cars will do all of the driving. These are not concepts of an inconceivable distant future. It is all very likely. Remember that only 15 years ago cell phones were still uncommon, and now you can watch streaming video on full color displays, take pictures and play mp3’s on them. Dick Tracy’s videophone wristwatch can’t be far behind.
Yes our lives will be simple because we will have extremely powerful and complex tools that are so sophisticated and intelligent that using them will require no expertise at all – except for those who build and maintain them. Government is like that too. Its laws and regulations have become so complex that the common person is incapable of grasping their significance without hiring professionals like attorneys and accountants – those who build and maintain our complex social system.
But, as with technology, I am convinced that this trend toward complexity is temporary for government as well. The weight of laws on us is increasingly onerous, forcing people to withdraw from the fringes of our society, and defining ever newer and nearer fringes. This is the natural result of demanding a safe, predictable, controlled society – it tends to eliminate diversity. Those of you who see no end in sight to the "good things" that government can do, please open your eyes and be honest about what your mindset advocates. You are demanding a homogenous society where the standards for normal and acceptable behavior are very narrow.
This is one of Ayn Rand's most powerful and oft quoted lines from Atlas Shrugged:
At some point, the mountains of rules and regulations will become so restrictive that we can simply throw them away. We will no longer have to worry over the details. Eventually the process becomes amazingly simple, anything that is not explicitly permitted will be forbidden. And don’t struggle to understand what is permitted. The expectation will be simple – fall in line and do what others do.
This is not the future advertised by those who are heralding it. They say they are protecting us and at the same time empowering us. They say that everyone’s contribution must be equally valued, whether doctor or cashier, plumber or garbage collector. It won’t matter if we already have thousands of artists making finger paintings with their own feces – by god, if finger-poop paintings are your passion in life, you must be paid a "living wage" to paint them. This is the "replicator" society that I previously discussed, where everyone can have everything they ever need – that future is just a hair farther fetched than Dick Tracy’s videophone.
Advocates of government controls will talk about all kinds of elaborate rights, rights to things that are only abundant in the most affluent societies today; a right to work; a right to a living wage; a right to health care; a right to housing. They leave out the part where we pay the price for this abundance – that price is obedience. For if we have a right to things produced by other people, those people become slaves, conscripted to fulfill our expanded "rights". Likewise, we are enslaved to them, as they have a right to our labor and products as well. And don’t worry if demand for your finger-poop paintings falls off. If necessary, we will stockpile them – so keep painting!
No, a society that is "simply obedient" has nothing to do with rights. A society founded on real rights is far different from a society encrusted with rules and supposed "guarantees". A society found on rights demands that people think. It expects them to act responsibly. It holds them accountable when they violate the rights of others, instead of wasting time and effort confining them to artificial boundaries and rules. Most of these restrictions are just institutionalized infringements on our liberty and do nothing to promote an accountable citizenry.
You can have a stable but empowered society without oppressively complex regulation. The answer is simplification. Take for example the volumes of law regarding the use of motor vehicles. Most of us have little if any familiarity with the full extent of those laws. So it is ineffective in restraining behavior. People do just as I have described. They do whatever they see others are getting away with. They observe each other – they see how far one can stray from the beaten path before hitting a land mine.
It all boils down to enforcement. Enforcement is costly in more than just financial ways, though technology is making it more affordable every day. So instead of focusing on real criminal elements – real threats to our safety – law enforcement largely spends its time making examples of people who are technically in violation of statutes and otherwise present no particular danger to anyone. This serves the dual function of funding the enforcement and creating a visually intimidating spectacle on our roadsides.
Make no mistake. No one is learning the laws out there. The public learns only what they can get away with. That is inevitable in an overly complex social system. It all depends on our fear and on the judgement of police to selectively enforce the laws. Sure, even if the public doesn’t know all of the laws, laws act as a convenient framework for the police to use – but that’s a cop out (sorry) that relieves the police of the more difficult task of distinguishing safe behavior from unsafe behavior. We can continue the pathetic cat and mouse game where law enforcement tags you out when it catches you crossing the myriad technical boundaries. Or, we can admit that we can’t hold people to the letter of the law, and that we rely almost completely on the judgement of the police to decide who will be made into examples. If order hinges on the judgement of law enforcement, doesn’t it make sense to build a system around that key fact?
If so, then we only need one rule on the roads – a person may not operate a vehicle carelessly or recklessly. Now, I admit (for you legal eagles ready to chop me up – this is my "disclaimer") that I am oversimplifying somewhat for clarity and effect, but not by much. With this approach, roadway regulations would become only guidelines and advisories. This simplified approach honestly deals with the limits of law enforcement. It re-tasks the police to spend their effort singling out those who demonstrate plausible threats to the public. Such threats should be dealt with decisively, harshly and without compromise.
This approach closes loopholes. For example we would not need specific laws prohibiting driving while using cell phones or eating or putting on make-up. The truth is that some people can safely use mobile communications and perform other activities while maintaining command of their vehicles – others cannot. For example, the police and trucking communities have been using "hands on" mobile communications for decades without much complaint. We should target drivers who are, for whatever reason, driving erratically or in an unsafe manner. No matter how equal we all are in eyes of the law, we are not equal in terms of alertness, focus, strength, aptitude and eye/hand coordination. We gain nothing by arbitrarily punishing those who use their phones safely, just because so many people can’t, won’t or don’t.
It is simple. Instead of a fearful and marginally obedient society, we could create a responsible population of drivers, drivers who understand that protecting everyone’s safety is the first and only rule.
Some day we may raise a generation of people who won’t need to know how to operate the knobs of faucet, because the faucets will all turn on and off automatically. A future generation may not learn how to drive cars, because the cars will do all of the driving. These are not concepts of an inconceivable distant future. It is all very likely. Remember that only 15 years ago cell phones were still uncommon, and now you can watch streaming video on full color displays, take pictures and play mp3’s on them. Dick Tracy’s videophone wristwatch can’t be far behind.
Yes our lives will be simple because we will have extremely powerful and complex tools that are so sophisticated and intelligent that using them will require no expertise at all – except for those who build and maintain them. Government is like that too. Its laws and regulations have become so complex that the common person is incapable of grasping their significance without hiring professionals like attorneys and accountants – those who build and maintain our complex social system.
But, as with technology, I am convinced that this trend toward complexity is temporary for government as well. The weight of laws on us is increasingly onerous, forcing people to withdraw from the fringes of our society, and defining ever newer and nearer fringes. This is the natural result of demanding a safe, predictable, controlled society – it tends to eliminate diversity. Those of you who see no end in sight to the "good things" that government can do, please open your eyes and be honest about what your mindset advocates. You are demanding a homogenous society where the standards for normal and acceptable behavior are very narrow.
This is one of Ayn Rand's most powerful and oft quoted lines from Atlas Shrugged:
Persistently narrowing the bounds of acceptable behavior has disturbing and perverse impacts on us. It creates an environment where, much like a minefield, it is safer to fall dutifully in line, step-for-step behind those ahead of you, than to risk running afoul of an overwhelming and incomprehensible system of laws. This highlights the difference between moral conscience and simple obedience. I say "simple", because obedience requires no thinking, soul searching or rational thought. In fact, in an obedient society one does not even need to understand the difference between right and wrong."There's no way to rule innocent men. The only power any government has is the power to crack down on criminals. Well, when there aren't enough criminals, one makes them. One declares so many things to be a crime that it becomes impossible for men to live without breaking laws."
At some point, the mountains of rules and regulations will become so restrictive that we can simply throw them away. We will no longer have to worry over the details. Eventually the process becomes amazingly simple, anything that is not explicitly permitted will be forbidden. And don’t struggle to understand what is permitted. The expectation will be simple – fall in line and do what others do.
This is not the future advertised by those who are heralding it. They say they are protecting us and at the same time empowering us. They say that everyone’s contribution must be equally valued, whether doctor or cashier, plumber or garbage collector. It won’t matter if we already have thousands of artists making finger paintings with their own feces – by god, if finger-poop paintings are your passion in life, you must be paid a "living wage" to paint them. This is the "replicator" society that I previously discussed, where everyone can have everything they ever need – that future is just a hair farther fetched than Dick Tracy’s videophone.
Advocates of government controls will talk about all kinds of elaborate rights, rights to things that are only abundant in the most affluent societies today; a right to work; a right to a living wage; a right to health care; a right to housing. They leave out the part where we pay the price for this abundance – that price is obedience. For if we have a right to things produced by other people, those people become slaves, conscripted to fulfill our expanded "rights". Likewise, we are enslaved to them, as they have a right to our labor and products as well. And don’t worry if demand for your finger-poop paintings falls off. If necessary, we will stockpile them – so keep painting!
No, a society that is "simply obedient" has nothing to do with rights. A society founded on real rights is far different from a society encrusted with rules and supposed "guarantees". A society found on rights demands that people think. It expects them to act responsibly. It holds them accountable when they violate the rights of others, instead of wasting time and effort confining them to artificial boundaries and rules. Most of these restrictions are just institutionalized infringements on our liberty and do nothing to promote an accountable citizenry.
You can have a stable but empowered society without oppressively complex regulation. The answer is simplification. Take for example the volumes of law regarding the use of motor vehicles. Most of us have little if any familiarity with the full extent of those laws. So it is ineffective in restraining behavior. People do just as I have described. They do whatever they see others are getting away with. They observe each other – they see how far one can stray from the beaten path before hitting a land mine.
It all boils down to enforcement. Enforcement is costly in more than just financial ways, though technology is making it more affordable every day. So instead of focusing on real criminal elements – real threats to our safety – law enforcement largely spends its time making examples of people who are technically in violation of statutes and otherwise present no particular danger to anyone. This serves the dual function of funding the enforcement and creating a visually intimidating spectacle on our roadsides.
Make no mistake. No one is learning the laws out there. The public learns only what they can get away with. That is inevitable in an overly complex social system. It all depends on our fear and on the judgement of police to selectively enforce the laws. Sure, even if the public doesn’t know all of the laws, laws act as a convenient framework for the police to use – but that’s a cop out (sorry) that relieves the police of the more difficult task of distinguishing safe behavior from unsafe behavior. We can continue the pathetic cat and mouse game where law enforcement tags you out when it catches you crossing the myriad technical boundaries. Or, we can admit that we can’t hold people to the letter of the law, and that we rely almost completely on the judgement of the police to decide who will be made into examples. If order hinges on the judgement of law enforcement, doesn’t it make sense to build a system around that key fact?
If so, then we only need one rule on the roads – a person may not operate a vehicle carelessly or recklessly. Now, I admit (for you legal eagles ready to chop me up – this is my "disclaimer") that I am oversimplifying somewhat for clarity and effect, but not by much. With this approach, roadway regulations would become only guidelines and advisories. This simplified approach honestly deals with the limits of law enforcement. It re-tasks the police to spend their effort singling out those who demonstrate plausible threats to the public. Such threats should be dealt with decisively, harshly and without compromise.
This approach closes loopholes. For example we would not need specific laws prohibiting driving while using cell phones or eating or putting on make-up. The truth is that some people can safely use mobile communications and perform other activities while maintaining command of their vehicles – others cannot. For example, the police and trucking communities have been using "hands on" mobile communications for decades without much complaint. We should target drivers who are, for whatever reason, driving erratically or in an unsafe manner. No matter how equal we all are in eyes of the law, we are not equal in terms of alertness, focus, strength, aptitude and eye/hand coordination. We gain nothing by arbitrarily punishing those who use their phones safely, just because so many people can’t, won’t or don’t.
It is simple. Instead of a fearful and marginally obedient society, we could create a responsible population of drivers, drivers who understand that protecting everyone’s safety is the first and only rule.
______________________________
There is a big collection of Rand’s quotes at WikiQuote, though they failed to source this particular quote back to Atlas Shrugged.
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