Criticism, Culture & Cinema

An Open Letter to the City of Ottawa

2008-06-22T20:28:00.000-07:00

I recently wrote a letter to the author of a City of Ottawa white paper that I deemed encouraged development of the city's greenbelt - a ring of green space that dinstinguishes the "old city" from the terribly planned former suburban municipalities of the now amalgamated metropolis. Needless to say, it was not received well, and despite a carefully worded apology I provided following the initial letter, I got no feedback on the content of either letters. What follows is only the first letter I wrote, since it was quite long, but let me reiterate the general message of the second letter:

I don't presume to make an authoritative claim as to the cause (though I have my suspicions), but the city of Ottawa has been, and is, poorly planned from the standpoint of sustainable development. The city has encouraged low-density suburban sprawl, a continuation of the capital-attraction strategies of the old suburban muncipalities. This has led to a whole host of problems, such as budgetary deficits on the account of snow removal, inability to maintain the downtown core landscape, and considerable shortcomings in the maintenance and reproduction of the city's rental housing stock, to name only a meagre few.

Anyway, let me get right to the meat:

I am thoroughly unimpressed with your one-sided white paper that - though it presents the semblance of some balance - favours development of the greenbelt. Many of the arguments you presented in favour of developing the greenbelt are either factually inaccurate, or have another side to them which are not considered in the arguments against developing the greenbelt.

1. Destroying the greenbelt in whole or part will actually have a negative impact on air quality, since the current greenspace acts as giant sink for exhaust fumes, convertering carbon dioxide into breathable oxygen. Hence, reducing a major absorption source of air pollution will undoubtedly result in its increase. This could easily transform Ottawa from a large city with excellent air quality to a much smaller (and less attractive) Toronto. Instead of biting the hand that feeds us, we should be working to improve this feature of our city's landscape. One suggestion to amplify the positive effect of the greenbelt on our city's environment would be to look into certain climate-sensitive trees or shrubs that absorb carbon dioxide with high efficiency and begin planting them in the 'unused' scrubland.

2. It is also highly dubious whether or not destroying the greenbelt will reduce vehicle trips and subsequently emissions. New residential development would mean that public transit to the downtown core would be more effective than from former municipalities such as Kanata or Nepean - providing that these future residents do not simply find employment outside of "acceptable" public transit commute zones (e.g.: that new residents in proposed zone "1" do not find employment in Orleans or Riverside South). Thus, while new residential development in the greenbelt areas would be more efficient than simply promoting urban sprawl in Stittsvile or South Nepean (as is currently happening) it is by no means "sustainable". Non-residential development (excepting some mixed zoning) again would do very little, unless the city were to propose some kind of highly complicated property tax credit rewarding residents who work near their homes.

So the whole 'environmental' argument for developing the greenbelt is a fabrication. Economically it might make sense, in the sense that with the city's current planning model, it will have to provide services increasingly further out in the hinterlands, thereby significantly raising budgetary costs, but there is nothing environmentally sustainable about destroying green space well within city bounds. This is something, as I'm sure you have discovered continually at planning conferences, that other cities are dying to have.

Your principle framing of the purpose of the greenbelt is also highly misleading. Its purpose was never primarily to preserve a rural identity - this was always the secondary function of the Gréber plan. Rather, its primary aim was to limit urban sprawl, to make the city beautiful, something we have failed in miserably in the subsequent decades. The rural identity was a corollary that never made its way into the minds of the people (and I grew up on the inside edge of the greenbelt in the 1980s and 90s) largely in part to the opposing message that the city and the local media have been striving towards: Ottawa as a 'big, serious, city'.

I am not an urban planner, a geographer, or an environmentalist, nor am I necessarily against limited, strategic and thoughtful development of certain parts of the greenbelt. But any plan that proposes this must be balanced with competent urban planning and a political will that encourages high density development in interior regions of the city and places much higher demands and restrictions on developers eager to make the biggest profit possible via suburban housing. Because of the past ineptitude of politicians and city officials, we have failed the spirit of the greenbelt. It is absolutely unfair to deal the death blow to the plan simply because we are unable and unwilling to take our city's future more seriously, because we feel it is expedient to pass the buck as past generations have done.

You can read the white paper in question at the following link where you can, as a resident of the Ottawa area, or simply as an interested advocate of responsible, environmentally sustainable urban planning, contact the author and the city's representative on the issue.
http://www.ottawa.ca/residents/public_consult/beyond_2020/papers/greenbelt_white_paper/index_en.html

The Cloak and Dagger of Mario Dumont

2008-04-23T21:48:00.000-07:00

When Mario Dumont was swept to power in 2007 as the leader of the opposition, few questioned his political support. Indeed, in true populist form, Dumont appeared to garner support from all quarters of the Quebec electorate. Outsiders dependent on English-language press reports outlining Dumont's policy stances were led to believe that he was the herald of a renewed era in 'democratic' Quebec politics, a new face that would change the tired discourse in the nation of Quebec. In my naivety and impetuousness, I too jumped on the bandwagon prior to the election to some extent, expressing my interest in the political appeal of his candidacy, though I never publicly or privately supported him. It seems now, looking back (though surely not to those who follow Quebec politics more closely than I do), that we were all duped - that the larger than life media profile of Mario Dumont grossly misrepresented his policy positions.

I remember talking to a friend who was living in Monreal prior to the election - someone I trust, with more or less progressive credentials. I was both shocked and tantalized when he told me he hoped Dumont would win the election. I had been following the campaign from a distance to that point, and had been impressed with the way Mario Dumont had been handling himself. Yet I was uncomfortably aware that Dumont didn't appear as a left-leaning candidate, despite the efforts of MacLean's to shade him thusly. So, snapping back to my diligent self, I reviewed just where Dumont stood, and my hopes and dreams were shattered. Union busting, fiscal 'conservatism' (read: tax cuts for the rich), racist immigration policy, only a short list defining just where Dumont stands. Add to this Dumont's recent comments on the 'riots' of Montreal, and perhaps we see the budding of a young fascist.

The problem I have with Dumont's deception is that, like with my friend, it gained wide credence among Quebec youth. It is true that increasingly I see young people sadly manipulated in their political and economic views by their desire to feel 'important, practical, and knowledgeable', in the same way that the great 'counterculture' campaigns - developed equally in corporate boardrooms and suburban garages - prey on kids desire to be 'cool'. But the success of the ADQ cannot be attributed to the hapless pandering of a minority of youth to the ideals of a class whose ranks they can only hope to join in some distant dystopian future. Rather, the ADQ has dragged in genuinely good-hearted and interested, if misguided, political participants with the false promise of a new kind of politics. What they have delivered is deceit, apathy, and the entrenchment of reactionary politics for a province that once claimed to be a leader in progressing Canada.

This experience has taught me a lesson, though I'm not entirely sure if I've truly learned it yet: rhetoric and representation are only half of the great progressive political equation - the balance is policy. In other words, what is spewed out of the mouths of candidates may go far in renewing political interest in otherwise apathetic voters, but it must be met by tangible policies that support that rhetoric. This is a lesson my friends in the United States desperately need to ensure they have learned as the campaigning comes down to the wire. On the democratic side, both Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama are pulling a little of the ol' ADQ 1-2. Clinton representing her policies in an unfaithful manner, Obama ensuring his rhetoric speaks louder than his policy proscriptions. On the Republican side, that well-known party of fear-mongering, expect John McCain to pull every populist trick (including claiming that the Democrats are populist) to connive his way into office.

Hate Speech, the Rule of Law, and Human Rights Commissions

2008-04-10T01:52:00.000-07:00

Some time ago, I saw an episode of TVO's The Agenda on "Free Speech and Human Rights Commissions" which spurred me to write a comment, mainly in response to other comments posted shortly after the show aired. You can see a list of these comments, as well as a blog posting by the producer which got them started here. I never got around to posting my comment, mainly because I couldn't condense what I wanted to say into TVO's character limit, because I figured my comments would do much more harm than good, and simply because I was too riled up to think things through. I've decided to post those edited comments here, now that a little time has passed allowing me to gain some critical distance:

First off, I wish I had caught the first showing of this Agenda episode, as it sure seems to have attracted quite a lot of reactionary and quixotic defences of Canadian liberalism. As a product of said liberalism, through and through, but with enough sense and awareness to be considerate of the lived experiences of many others who are not, I thought I would make a comment regarding the "justice" of hate speech laws as enforced by human rights tribunals. Free speech is a vacuous concept to begin with. Though this argument is likely beyond the reach of the less pensive and more assertive, there has never been a word or concept that I have learned that did not ultimately come from someone else. To say that our speech is "free" is misguided, since we always speak within the necessarily restrictive context of our knowledge, and our language. If speech is not some abstract concept, some ideal to be garnered from upon high or to be internally extracted, but rather a socially embedded practice of negotiating relationships between individuals, it needs to be wielded with the conscious understanding of the impact that it may have upon those relationships. To claim that racist tracts, or any other form of hate speech, are fully protected by the law of "free" speech, is to raise that specific individual freedom above the freedom of the harmed group in the hierarchy of values.

The problem lies in the fact that group identities are not separate from individual identities in many cases. This point comes home to me consistently when Canadians attack American nationalism. Most do not have the intent of putting down the individuals that their attacks will ultimately be disseminated to; that they have this effect and that those people view them as attacks is pointed. Group identities do have deep meaning for people who identify with that group, and generalized attacks on one's race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, ability, etc. can have the same effect as when one is subjected to libel. This is especially the case when this form of 'libel' is so rampant that it translates into tangible structural discrimination from job markets, services or political opportunity, as was (and is) the case for many visible minorities in North America.

I am not a lawyer, but I study the law enough to have a working definition of "the rule of law" handily memorized. Gerald Frug, a noted Harvard law professor, claims that its primary function is to protect against the 'arbitrary exercise of power'. This may take the form of the usual suspects that come to mind (governments, corporate entities, interest groups, etc.), but what about when that entity is an entire culture? Indeed, Human Rights Commissions have been designed primarily with this latter construct in mind - when 'libel' is so widespread that everyone believes it, the victim of it has nowhere to turn for 'equal treatment before and under the law". Thus, to claim that these laws place a certain group of people 'above the law' completely obscures the unequal positions of various groups in society. It is the dirty secret of liberal societies that claim that everyone is equal, and yet refuse to ensure that this will be the case at the substantive level.

It is also disingenuous to claim that these commissions allow for the politically-motivated manipulation of "free" speech, if one also argues that there is some kind of apolitical set of laws we can enforce, as Ezra Levant claims. That the most ardent defenders of this line of thinking are white, male, and usually so absorbed in their own world view that they are deeply intolerant of alternatives (despite their claims to liberalism) is testimony to the interests that anti-hate speech laws threaten to challenge. Those hardcore believers in the "rule of law" should welcome the introduction of any law that further limits the scope of the arbitrary exercise of power. Instead, they are also the ones who most vociferously oppose it, since it challenges their own personal "enclaves of opportunity".

But one can ask a more simple question: if everyone agrees that racism et. al. are bad things, as all but the most extreme do publicly, then why should they fear laws or commissions that limit the public exercise of this hate speech? No one wants to use these words, or make these arguments, and if these commissions are able to engage with the concept of culture that liberal legal traditions with their bias on the individual are incapable of (or refuse to), then power should actually be exercised less arbitrarily. But in fact, hate speech is constantly being exercised and perpetuated by people all around the world - by members of groups with substantive power against those without it - and therein lies the reason why people like Ezra Levant fear these commissions so much. The cloak of "free" speech is convenient for preserving power relations, since they ensure that oppressive culture can be perpetuated through public discourse. This form of arbitrary power, or its exercise, may not be as easy to conceptualize as the individual, but its effects are equally debilitating for those whom if afflicts.

Now dormant on the Agenda's website, this debate must rage on. I am not against free speech in any way, but since I do believe in society and community (as tangible entities in conjuction with the individual), I also believe that the speaker must weigh just what effect their words will have - both directly and indirectly - more broadly. We all wield power with the words we speak, and we need to think to what ends we want to direct that power. As a member of the academy, I can muster considerable power and authority on some topics when I don my professional credentials. But because of this, I also realize that I have a lot of power to give up to others. As always, this issue, ultimately, must not be a debate about free speech, but a debate over who's values are reflected in public discourse and institutions.

Death of a Campaign

2008-03-13T11:13:00.000-07:00

At the risk of revealing my obsession with the presidential primary season in the U.S., I'd like to draw attention to the collapse of Hillary Clinton's campaign. This race has certainly been a difficult one to pin down - for all observers I think. But as of last night I am able to make a projection (cue the cheesy CNN sound clip): Barack Obama will win the democratic primary, I repeat, Barack Obama will win the democratic nomination.

I didn't come to this conclusion by looking at the delegate numbers, or speculative assertions about super delegates, and certainly not by examining the poll numbers. Rather, it was by half-jokingly applying Elizabeth Kubler-Ross's "Five Stages of Grief" to the Clinton campaign. Let me enumerate each stage with a brief example.

1. Denial: Up until four or five months ago, Barack Obama was not on the pundit radar. When I first heard him speak some year and a half ago, I knew he would go places in U.S. politics, but I did not expect it to be so soon, or even so far. To use that disparaging term, he was not even the 'dark horse' in the democratic party. But when that quickly changed and the delegate numbers started coming in, Clinton acted, with her characteristic sense of entitlement, as if Obama was merely a fly that would buzz itself out in a short time. As recently as Super Tuesday, she believed, or at least portrayed the belief that Obama was not a force to be reckoned with.

2. Anger: Quickly after her first defeat, the Clinton machine became angry - who is this usurper of my rightful ascent to power? The slurs began to fly, most recently with the pre-Texas round of negativity. One might even frame her shedding of a tear prior to New Hampshire as a sign of internal anger that this just wasn't fair. She had big plans, good policies, a vision that deserves to be implemented. How could this happen?

3. Bargaining: When Obama passed her in total expected delegate count, advisors began deserting her campaign, and time was running out, she began to bargain. Just as one bargains with time to spare them from death, with considerable hubris, Hillary and Bill began proposing fantastical possibilities of a joint-ticket - with Obama on the second line. Obama, and the party leadership, quickly sped her along the road to the next stage when they flatly rejected such a proposal.

4. Depression: Most recently, Hillary has begun apologizing for all of the mistakes she made along the way. One could interpret this as an acceptance of loss, though this has not come formally or publicly yet. Rather, I see it as a kind of self-pitying that things could have been better and different, but they're not. It is impossible to predict these kind of things, but I expect Hillary to campaign with significantly less vigour then before.

5. Acceptance: I believe this is still yet to come, perhaps after the Pennsylvania primary, but of course, if may come sooner - or later.

This is hardly a faithful interpretation of the model, and I do it thoroughly from a lay perspective. Alternative analyses are certainly possible, and welcome. However, putting aside this lack of scientific rigour for a moment, this outline demonstrates one thing: that Hillary responded to her slow defeat the way someone does to something that they actually 'have' - a partner, a job, their own mortality. In true dynastic form, Clinton 'grieves' over something that she shouldn't presume to have had, but feels is her divine right. I'm not one to buy into the popular, sweeping assertions about politics in any country, in this case, the 'Bush-Clinton dynasty' argument. Still, if in the mind of Hillary, she viewed herself as the rightful 'heir' to the presidency, American politics has been saved from a dangerous turn towards further elitism.

Promise, Precaution and Preparedness: Obama and the Democratic Primary

2008-02-19T19:31:00.000-08:00

I like Barack Obama - he appeals to my elitist demand for a candidate that can speak eloquently, and convey relatively complex ideas in an inspiring and forceful manner. As a believer in the power of discourse, this is a central quality that we should be looking for in any leader. He also, I believe, is unique in the history of modern U.S. politics in that his campaign rhetoric is rooted in grassroots organization. Yes, his platform consists of variations on a common theme - easy fix solutions provided by a Washington political class. But his speeches clearly foreshadow an era of renewed community organization and activism that America so desperately needs. This is not surprising, given his occupational biography, but the fact that this message seems to resonate so well with voters is. In an era of political apathy, of short-termism, of the paternal state or corporation advocating some kind of mild social responsibility, the long-dormant core of American culture is returning with renewed vigor.

All of his merits, as far as I'm concerned, make Barack Obama deserving of the democratic nomination, and ultimately the presidency of the United States. Experience in the well-oiled machine of Washington politics is non-essential, and the kinds of political tactics that a true outsider - a community activist - could bring to the White House might actually blind Washington lobbyists and career politicians in a stupor that should match their mentalities.

But watching his speech tonight made my detested inclination towards strategy kick in. As older generations seize power based on their age and rely on the hackneyed rhetoric of their parents, the recent trend has been towards cyclical politics, culture and (hopefully) economics. If we can accurately relate current politics to those of the past, where does Obama fit in? Is history likely to repeat itself?

One name stands out in comparison with Barack Obama - Jimmy Carter. In 1976, Jimmy Carter ran on a record quite similar to Barack Obama. He appealed to a dissatisfied electorate reeling from the malaise of Nixon and Ford and promised that, as an outsider to Washington, he would reform the dirty politics of the day. This is nothing new now, but at the time it struck a cord with voters, and they delivered a humble Baptist, naval lieutenant and peanut farmer the Democratic nomination, and ultimately the presidency. Carter's presidency is now well known - rising oil prices, stagflation, and ultimately the Iranian hostage crisis. He left office with a 25% approval rating, paving the way for Reagan (with a similar message and background) to seize the presidency in 1980.

One only needs to watch a few of Obama's speech to note some interesting similarities: the call for honesty, the cleanup of Washington, the "first" status (Carter was the first "deep" South candidate to win his party's nomination in over a hundred years). These comparisons to me are a moot point however. What interests (and worries) me is, given that Obama is in front runner status in my eyes for the presidency, will his story turn out like that of Carter?

The crisis that global warming presents looms large - any leader will have to deal with either the vomitous reactions of industry to regulation, or increasing environmental crises: neither will be popular. The price of oil has risen above $100 USD again, and shows no sign of declining precipitously. This will present a problem for any president tasked with crafting an energy policy for the 21st century. Certain foreign policy issues are likely to erupt, irrespective of the belligerence of American intent: Russia, Cuba, Pakistan, and many others that I am too tired to think about. Any way you cut it, the next five years are in no way 'Golden Years' for any candidate.

So my conclusion is honestly more of a question, echoing that of the last post. If Obama wins the nomination and the presidency, will he fumble like Carter? Personally, I think Barack Obama is a much more formidable candidate and person than Carter ever was. History constantly provides cues as to how we might act, and if any politician is to act on them, it will be Obama. While Carter is passionate and 'rational', I would not call him shrewd. Obama, on the other hand, seems to have much more than meets the eye. This belief may be the result of over-exposure to Obama and not to Carter, but still - there is something of the Spirit of 68' about Obama.

My concern should not be a sign that I am skeptical of Obama as a candidate - I always think it is beneficial to push the discourse as far towards humanity as possible when time allows - but rather it should be a signal indicating the need for preparation for America and the world. We must be prepared to utilize Obama the vessel, in America and elsewhere, if he wins the presidency, to achieve ends that will benefit all.

A Frank (not Ronald) Discussion of the Republican Primary Debates

2008-01-30T18:37:00.000-08:00

The best thing anyone can do is pay close attention to something they have a general disdain for, and consider it, not with an 'objective' eye, but with the exclusion of the aspects that are most frustrating for them. For me, the California Republican debate fit that bill quite well, mostly because of the radical disconnect between the consciously crafted rhetoric of the Republican candidates and the utterly destructive consequences of Republican policies on the American working poor, to say nothing of the millions worldwide that have suffered at their hands over the years. So (recalling that I have waived any claims of objectivity) with the debates as my focal point, let me offer an alternative analysis to what will certainly be a massive spectacle in the coming 24 hours.

Putting everything aside, in my opinion, the big winner in this debate was Huckabee - when he had the opportunity to speak, he delivered a clear, concise and even passionate response. Both he and Paul, perhaps from their vantage points as the "future Republican nominee drop outs", gave heated and concerned responses to questions asked of them, or seized their own space to present points from their platforms. McCain was obviously the big loser in these debates, and as I write this, I will concurr with Amy Holmes' pointed comment on CNN's aftershow that he appeared "surly". To take that further, I saw his performance resembling that of a cocky candidate, drunk on the fruits of his endorsements. Nevertheless, CNN, eager to back "power", no matter its stripe, was quick to remedy his less than stellar performance in the aftermath of the debate.

Which brings me to a major point of contention with these debates. Both Huckabee and Paul at some point in the night mentioned that they would like to speak about the issues, rather than - in the words of Huckabee - be an "umpire at a ballgame". Unfortunately, neither of them ever got a chance to really "swing a few" themselves, with no thanks to the questioners. But an even bigger issue was the entire questioning format. With no rules, CNN was at the helm to dictate what kind of debate this would be. Their decision: bring out the talkshow. CNN consistently would ask questions of either McCain or Romney, and after hearing their response, instead of letting the other give their own response to the question, would ask them to respond to their competitors point. This is a practice that blatantly obscures the issues. Instead, it encouraged (even forced) the candidates into the kind of absurd futility of character attacks that the media thrives upon. I can say, from the perspective of someone who fights tooth and nail against the policies that Republican candidates generally advance, that I honestly felt bad for all of them tonight.

But beyond the format questions, the main point that stuck out to me was really the disjuncture about what the Republican party is really all about. Listening to the diverse narratives of all the candidates and the back and forth name-calling of being out of synch with the party, I was left wondering: what does the Republican party really stand for? I heard Huckabee talk about the fundamental equality of all life, no matter what or where it was, alongside Romney criticize any claim of potential legitimacy for non-"Americans" to a right to live a life they choose. I heard McCain talk about a military class that needs to be upheld above all else, alongside Ron Paul talk about an ideal of freedom, rooted in the "everyman", that is the core of the country's pride and success. These different - and often contradictory - political and moral values leave one wondering what the cohesive glue of the party really is now. Why, for one, continue to link the party to Ronald Reagan? Should he really be the main referent for the party?

This, more than anything, signalled to me the demise of Republican leadership in the next election - and I have consistently predicted a McCain victory in both the primary and the presidential contest since 2006. If the Republican party hopes to have any shot at winning a general election, they need to have a consistent strategy that either solidifies their base, or transcends it. As times change and the Reagan personality fades into black, and he is remembered for the policies that he really stood for, the party will need to rethink just who they stand for. My hopes are that they fail to do this, so that Americans will at least get a good decade of marginal economic benefits (living wage anyone?), and an entrenchment of a much more egalitarian political culture.

But I defer to you - how did you view the California debate? What about this Reagan legacy? Is the party as fractured as people claim?

Just Egg or the Whole Pie? American Media and the Colombian Hostage Situation

2008-01-10T20:12:00.000-08:00

In an incident rarely so conspicuous, the mainstream American media was caught with egg on its face with regards to Venezuela.

The background: Chavez has been involved in hostage negotiation with Colombia's FARC for some time now. The belligerent government of Uribe has clearly demonstrated it has no interest in opening a dialogue with the FARC over the years, and would rather engage in spectacular telenovela style politics and military intervention in order to maintain its tenuous hold over the Colombian electorate, even while it shoves both hands into the public cookie jar. Since the Venezuelan government is obviously to the left of Uribe, and closer in ideological leanings to the FARC than the Colombian government, they offered to act as a more sympathetic intermediary that might be able to relate to the FARC, something that the traditional Colombian political parties had refused to do since La Violencia.

After long talks, a handover of some of the FARC hostages was scheduled over the New Year, but failed to materialize. The FARC cited Colombian military activity in the region where the handover was supposed to take place, and refused to meet. The major American media outlets, and consequently unthinking conservative and liberal bloggers, trumpeted this delay - one CNN article put it - as demonstrating the "limits" of the Chavez government. They recognized everything that I have here, and yet still chose to frame this incident in the most curious way that they did. To me, this either shows their complete ineptitude in understanding the South American dynamic, their blatant ideological leanings, or most likely, both.

Today, two hostages were freed with the help of Chavez. The most recent CNN article on the topic says nothing of Chavez's past "failures", though it does include a quote by one freed hostage, Clara Rojas, who thanked Chavez for "returning [her]... to life". How embarrassing it must be to conclude irrationally and prematurely that Chavez had failed, that somehow his integrity as the president of Venezuela had been challenged by his failure to succeed in work that he was effectively doing pro bono, only to find that he did succeed. There is nothing more satisfying when editorials by the elite masquerading as 'objective' news stories are exposed for what they really are. This happens continually with regards to Venezuela, for despite all of his faults, Chavez is an institutional socialist that has certainly learned from the mistakes of his predecessors. Rarely, however, does it happen so neatly.

The Real Coherency of Ron Paul?

2008-01-10T19:29:00.000-08:00

It appears Ron Paul's "war of all against all" is much less 'libertarian', and much more organized around racial lines than I had originally thought. Back in the early 90s, Paul was engaged in endorsing (at least tacitly) hate literature that targeted blacks, gays, and jews. Of course, Paul now says he knew nothing of the reports that bear his name, and claims he is not racist as any good presidential candidate must do. In fact, Ron Paul went so far to claim that "Libertarians are incapable of being a racist, because racism is a collectivist idea". Someone should mention to Ron Paul that humans are incapable of being libertarians because they live in societies. Hayek's lunacy still reigns in the minds of the ignorant.

A light was cast on libertarian rhetoric today, one that ultimately illuminated the real Ron Paul that I speculated was bubbling under the surface in the last post. That so many who believe in freedom, human dignity and autonomy are swayed by the populism of this vicious old man is truly sad. I ask those who feel the desire to be standard bearers in Ron Paul's "revolution" to really think about what it is they want. What kind of society do you want, what kind of individual do you want to be? What values drive your worldview? If you connect the dots to form the kind of world that Ron Paul would like to see, at least according to his policy positions, you arrive at a picture that looks much more like George W. Bush than a soaring eagle.

On a lighter note, I wonder: if Ron Paul is so libertarian that he could never trust government to manage his money, how could he entrust his reputation to people he apparently vehemently opposes? Coherency or contradiction? You be the judge.

Warfare and Policy Coherency: McCain vs. Paul

2007-11-29T07:11:00.000-08:00

The debate between the policy positions of Ron Paul and John McCain is emblematic of the Republican divide in the U.S. around warfare. It also epitomizes the selfish myopia of many Republicans voters too ignorant or vindictive to connect the dots. McCain asserts that non-intervention, which he likens to isolationism, is what led to Hitler's rise to power, while Ron Paul advocates a position for the U.S. that rejects global militarism in favor of 'trade, travel and talk'. As these two candidates argued this point last night during the 'CNN/Youtube Debates' (a farcical spectacle if I've ever seen one), both were met by simultaneous cheering and booing.

Now, McCain is a number of derogatory nouns that I could spend hours listing, but he is at least coherent. In McCain's America, the US military would be (likely more effectively than under Bush) deployed throughout the world, reasserting neocolonial domination by imposing ideologically driven value systems on the conquered nations. At home, the federal government would act as the vanguard for the securitization of America in favor of the white christian male minority, and a thinner state would enact economic policy that favors corporate elites. For McCain, war is the endless, belligerent state that the American government should engage in - military and ideological warfare abroad, class and social warfare at home. Coherent, methodical and exacting in its hatred for everyone that does not reflect his power background.

Ron Paul on the other hand is a confusing character. On the one hand he vociferously advocates individual freedom for all as a libertarian, yet on the other he favors subjecting individual freedom to the iron grip of an intense national state that will seek to crush freedoms like immigration and abortion. Furthermore, he advocates the inconsistent and Utopian vision of a capitalist society without government regulation. But, back to the subject at hand, Paul rejects military warfare, arguing that American should only engage in warfare for "defensive" purposes (though, this is precisely how Bush sold Iraq pre-emption at first), all the while advocating combinations of policies that actively propagate class and social warfare on behalf of elites. Those who share the individualist and static conception of human nature that Ron Paul clearly has are undoubtedly familiar with Hobbes's classic phrase "war of all against all". Most of his supporters have failed to reconcile the contradictions implicit in a capitalist-libertarian conception of human nature that would prove Hobbes right. What is scary is that the few ideologues who have come to terms with this eagerly relish the Battle Royale that is to come if they end up in power.

Perhaps, deep down, Ron Paul is as coherent as John McCain. Perhaps he does understand that the policies he is proposing will quite obviously entrench social inequalities and widen the income gap - infringing on a great American constitutional freedom: that of general welfare. Maybe he is merely positioning himself at the top of the pack in the "war of all against all" that he sees occurring. But if so, this is not evident in his policies, nor in the vehemency of his misguided supporters. Coming from a point of principle, the state is a dangerous entity in the sense that it usurps decision-making power from each of us, no matter how "democratic" the process through which this takes place. However, efforts to reduce its influence, and more importantly, what social order will take its place, need to be reflective, purposeful and progressive. Abolishing the state without systematically addressing structural inequalities reproduced within the economy and society will certainly lead to the vindication of Hobbesian thought. John McCain understands this very well, and in response is interested in using the state to further entrench these inequalities. Ron Paul and his followers, at least on the surface, are woefully deluded.

Sixty Years On, the Cycle Continues

2007-11-27T17:42:00.000-08:00

Steve Paikin and The Agenda have reminded me of an extremely important anniversary coming up this Thursday, Nov. 29th : 60 years ago, the United Nations decided to arbitrarily seize the land of the Palestinians and offer it as compensation to Jewish people reeling from the horrors of the holocaust. Immediately after the first wave of settlement, the Israeli state began its program of land 'expansion', evident below. Now, this is undoubtedly a complex issue with no complete solution that is immediately implementable. However, I was struck by the comments of Yossi Klein Halevi, the Jewish 'video guest' brought on to spark discussion. He argued a point that was seemingly innocuous, positive even, but - if you really want to be reflexive and historically grounded, as Halevi argues - was actually quite oppressive.

Halevi focused his monologue on the cultural and ethnic narratives we all have, and the historic unwillingness of both Israelis and Palestinians to acknowledge the legitimacy of 'the Other'. He argued that while the Jewish people have come to terms with their belligerent past, now accepting of a two-state solution, the Palestinians are still bent on the destruction of the Israeli state, incapable of acknowledging 'the Other'. To frame the situation like this makes sense if, and only if, both parties are on equal terms, politically and economically. But, as this is not the case, this argument will inevitably entrench historic oppression, forcing the victims to bear an equal share of a burden that was unequally dealt.

The years of constant denigration faced by Arab Palestinians, both within 'Israeli' and Palestinian territory and worldwide from the international community, are not something we can ask them to shrug off as if they did not matter. It is easy for Jewish Israelis to 'acknowledge the other' (though of course, never in government policy) after sixty years of 'reparations' in the form of foreign aid and economic opportunities - not to mention political autonomy. Defenders of this privilege try to offset the gap by emphasizing the barrage of violence Israelis have had to graple with (though never with any mention of disproportionality). But the real disconnect is between the limits of Israeli civil society's acknowledgement of the other's narrative (always in simple, though important, political terms) and the lived economic and cultural realities of the Palestinians.

Ahistoricity is a powerful concept for dominant groups wishing to legitimize their dominancy, but it is obviously the death knell for any hope of redressing inequities. Yet ironically, the only history that (some) Jewish people like to consider is the one that legitimizes their presence in the Middle East. Some of the most vociferous advocates of this history live in the United States, and yet none are willing to acknowledge the much more recent right to that territory by a variety of indigenous groups. If we trace back our history far enough, none of us have the right to be anywhere on this earth, as only some few million years ago, we didn't exist as a species. Instead of jockeying for some kind of fabricated "right" that could fantastically legitimize the various occupations of humanity over the course of its storied history, we should be focusing on seriously working towards addressing inequalities that result from those occupations.

History is not something we can ignore altogether, nor something we can circumvent by reaching back indefinitely. It is something that we have to acknowledge, understand, and deal with, if we wish to achieve real progressive solutions. That necessarily means the giving up of privilege for some. Any 'solution' that leaves this, and consequently history, off the table is no solution at all, but merely more fuel for the cycle of oppression to continue.

Praxis and the Engine of Revolution

2007-11-25T09:49:00.000-08:00

I came across this very interesting image detailing the reform process underway in Venezuela. As usual, this is courtesy of Venezuelanalysis.com.

Historically, this has been a pretty common trajectory for new socialist states, begging the quetsion - what is '21st century' about Venezuela's socialism? Or perhaps the more pertinent question is how accurate a depiction of the revolutionary process this image is?

Rather than follow a linear '5-step' process, Chavez has cobbled together a number of these steps, and a host of other strategies to get to where he is now. This graphic, though fascinating - and a great starting point for discussion - demonstrates the disconnect between 'theory' and 'practice' that orthodox Marxists have consistently reinforced. Can't anyone recall Gramsci?

The ILO and Reactionary Politics

2007-11-20T06:06:00.000-08:00

Venezuelanalysis.com has recently posted an article on its site discussing ILO criticism of Venezuela's treatment of business leaders. The article also goes on to praise Colombia for the "progress" it has made protecting labor leaders. Now, I know the ILO has not exactly been calling for the end of capitalism since its creation in 1919, but since when did it become its ardent defender? Both claims of the ILO, situated in proper context, are absolutely ridiculous, and the organization should be ashamed of its contributions to reactionary politics.

Labor conditions in Venezuela have improved, if only marginally, in the last 10 years. According to CEPAL-ECLAC's 2006 Statistical Yearbook, the unemployment rate has gone from among the higher half in the region in 1990 and 1995 to the lower half of the region in 2005 - this taking into consideration the brutal opposition-organized strikes in 2003. Female urban labor participation rate has made some of the biggest gains in the region, rising from 37.5% in 1990 to 51.7% in 2005, and the gender wage ratio, charting the average pay of women in relation to men, is the best in Latin America, rising from 80.4% in 1990 to 99.7% in 2005 . Enrollment in primary education - necessary to ensure bright futures for workers - has gone from 82.1% in 1995 to 92.0% in 2004, and gains in second and third level education enrollment have been even larger. On the business side, gross capital formation has made steady gains from $18 billion (in current market prices) in 1995, to $30.3 billion in 2005, with comparable gains for gross fixed capital formation. Related statistics show similar gains for domestic industry. (CEPAL statistics are available here). Labor conditions in improving in Venezuela, if only marginally right now, and clearly, so are the prospects for capital.

Meanwhile the situation in Colombia is much more dire. No fewer than 26 unionists, including 5 union leaders, have been killed in Colombia this year. Since 1986, Colombia's Escuala Nacional Sindical has recorded over 2500 murders of unionists. Thus, the 2007 numbers are down from the 21-year average of 119, but this is hardly the cause for a pat on the back. Most union members in Colombia are assassinated by right-wing paramilitaries, and given Uribe's close ties with these groups, as is slowly coming out now, justice will not be served until he is out of office, and these murderers are thoroughly prosecuted for their crimes instead of being offered amnesty. (Colombia statistics available here).

Capital has its advocates in the form of the WTO, World Bank, IMF, OECD, a whole host of agencies within the UN, and of course, most national governments around the world. The ILO should stick to its mandate by promoting the interests of "working people", not "owning people", and certainly needs to consider context when praising a country which has one of the highest rates of labor-related murders in the world. Either the quality of ILO's scholarship and research should be called into question, or they have become traitors to those they swore to defend. Neither would surprise me.

A Little Brie on Saturday Night

2007-11-18T08:34:00.000-08:00

I received some free tickets to see Bon Jovi last night in Ottawa, and despite the rearview seating, I must say it was a great concert. I'm not particularly a fan of the group, though I absolutely love the Young Guns II soundtrack, and am sympathetic to their glam rock roots. The little I have heard of their recent albums before last night I can say I actively disliked. But anyone who appreciates top-notch musicians and performers, regardless of musical allegiances, would have been pleasantly surprised by Saturday's concert.

The first few songs, even the classic You Give Love a Bad Name, were full of cheese - brie to be exact. But a few beers helped break down the socially-derived inhibitions that make everyone crack a wry smile when they hear the name "Jon Bon Jovi". Quickly, I couldn't help but realize how impressive - in terms of effort, band tightness, technical talent, catchiness, and performance value - the band was. They kept the entire stadium cheering and singing until the very end.

The band spit out song after song, with no break or unnecessary banter for almost 3 hours. A few hilarious fillers, such as the 'time warp' intro to Runaway worked more to put a smile on the faces of the undedicated than to prompt ridicule or disdain. Highlights of the show were Ritchie Sambora singing These Days, and phenomenal versions of I'll Be There, Keep the Faith, Wanted Dead or Alive, and Livin' On a Prayer. Throughout, the band performed at the highest level, far outdoing most bands I have seen. Considering that this show is 25 years into their career, in a time when most of the "classics" are in decline, the effort was all the more impressive.

Say what you want about the flavor of cheese that Bon Jovi exudes, in terms of performance value, there are few concerts that could have been better. The full setlist from the show is available on Bon Jovi's website.

Call It What It Is...

2007-11-16T13:07:00.001-08:00

Canada's RCMP is embroiled in yet another scandal this week after the unprovoked "death" of a Polish traveller by taser. Robert Dziekanski had arrived in Vancouver after his very first flight with instructions to wait in the baggage claim area for his mother to pick him up. Unfortunately, she was unable to gain access to this area and her repeated attempts to make contact with her son fell on deaf ears. After some waiting, she was told by airport staff that her son never arrived and that she should go home (obviously they never bothered to check the passenger list). Nearly 10 hours after his arrival, unable to communicate with anyone around him, Robert became aggravated and began throwing objects around - though as eye witnesses described, not in a threatening or violent fashion. Though bystanders repeatedly insisted that Robert spoke no English and that a translator was required, airport security called the RCMP, who, without even assessing the situation, decided on tasering Robert. They then cornered him, tasered him twice with 50,000 volts, and proceeded to pin his throat down with their knees until he lost consciousness. This incident was captured on video and is available for viewing here.

Although no one in the media, to my knowledge, has come out and said it, we should call this incident what it truly is: murder. These officers willfully disregarded the life of this innocent man by rushing to taser him before even assessing the situation. At the very least this is clearly a case of involuntary manslaughter and should be tried as such, as a spokesperson for the Polish Foreign Ministry has suggested. When RCMP officers are murdered in the line of duty, we give them all the sympathy that they and their families deserve (and more). When they do the same to others in society - a society where every life is supposed to be equal to another - they are defended, or cautiously criticized.

Police brutality has a long history in Canada, most of which has gone unpunished. When individuals with the sanction of the state get away with murder, as happens all too often in Canada, we should be seriously worried. With clear evidence of this, in such a callous and despicable form, we should demand that justice be served on behalf of Robert's family, and our society.

Symphony and Sense Redux

2007-11-14T06:57:00.000-08:00

I've been informed by a friend of a related question asked by Carrie Brownstein. Personally, my "line in the sand" is quite similar to Carrie's. I'm interested in a musical performance, not a dramatic spectacle with a soundtrack. Other elements that bother me are an avowed apoliticism claimed by the band, reactionary politics interspersed into lyrics, and to a lesser extent, a lack of complexity and originality in the work (i.e.: three chord songs in the key of G with some 'fresh' lyrics).

Democracy and the Rule of Law: Reflections on Gerald Frug

2007-11-14T05:58:00.000-08:00

Listening to Gerald Frug talk about the concept of rule of law in relation to cities reminded me just how manipulative elites can be. Frug, a distinguished Harvard law professor, is concerned with the deconstruction of the idea of the rule of law as it is popularly understood and disseminated by politicians, businesspeople, and "think" tanks. As Frug points out, this usually is a particular model of market regulation focusing on improving the ability for individuals and groups to engage in capital accumulation. Hernando de Soto has argued in The Mystery of Capital that this, more than any other reason, is why the "third world" is still mired in poverty. In contrast to this notion of rule of law, Frug argues that its importance is in "restraining the excercise of arbitrary power".

This concept seems quite fair, but what exactly might we constitute as "arbitrary"? Fundamentally, Frug points out that arbitrary power is any decision-making authority that is not democratically excercised. This too warrants a definition: for Frug, "democracy is a lived experience" empowering people with greater control over their lives, rather than a simple electoral formula or representativeness in a legislature. Thus, Frug's ideal-type 'rule of law' is one that ensures that everyone's voice is involved in decision-making processes. As potential sources of arbitrary power, Frug cites governments, elite experts and professionals, and relevant to his city theme, neighborhood groups.

Beyond a dichotomous assertion of individuality implicit in Frug's understanding of rule of law, he hints at an essential point: if the legal system is founded, as in any representative democracy, on the arbitrary decisions of an elite minority (via the legislature and judiciary), then just how "legal" is it? Frug looks to the communal norms, customs, and checks on power in shantytowns around the world - in short the 'informal' segments of society - and determines that these arrangements are legal in their own right. The imposition of a formal legal system, especially when it is imported from afar via the WB and other development agencies, is clearly an excercise of arbitrary power that infringes on the legal structures of these state-autonomous regions. Now, the legal system of these informal shantytowns may be highly corrupt, immensely hierarchical, patriarchal, and brutally repressive - but then again, looking back on its historical development, so is our own.

Frug instead insists upon a notion of the rule of law that is flexible, situational and context dependent - one that is dynamic, not relatively static, and one that protects the "weak" from the "strong" instead of institutionalizing the power of the latter. Though he discusses this concept with reference to urban localities, he emphasizes that these local structures must not simply form an addition to the formal [national + subnational] legal structure, but radically transform it.

Elites who have a considerable stake in the particular idea of rule of law that is currently being disseminated (read: the formal liberal-capitalist legal structure) seek only to totalize its presence over society. This expansion, while often cloaked in the language of freedom and democracy, is clearly anti-democratic in the sense that it only empowers a small minority. But it is also opposed to the Frugian spirit of the "rule of law", in the sense that it seeks to bolster the hegemony of arbitrary power. This oligarchical format runs the risk of degenerating to blatant totalitarianism, as even if the content of the laws remain fairly liberal in nature, the structure of the legal system will not. Even Friedrich von Hayek warned us against this in The Road to Serfdom!

The rule of law is a welcome ideal that we must always strive for, if it is employed in the Frugian sense. But we should be intensely critical of this concept at all turns. If the bourgeois, questioning absolutism, asked "Whose rule should we submit to?", deciding among themselves on themselves via nascent "democracy", we the masses should ask the same question. Whose laws do we follow, even if we agree with many of them? Who determines which laws are right and just and which are not? Thinking about these questions for only a little while should reveal a radical disconnect between our "rule of law" and democracy.

Review: The Politics and Aesthetics of The Middle Passage

2007-11-08T11:55:00.000-08:00

Good, politically charged films are hard to come by in a world of Hollywood tripe and aesthetic pandering. I recently watched the English version (2003) of Guy Deslauriers' film Passage du Milieu as part of a teaching assignment, and was pleasantly shocked that the spirit is alive and well, if only in somewhat marginalized indie films. The Middle Passage is a brutal indictment of the slave trade and colonialism, while explicitly making the link between the past and present experiences of those of African descent. It combines creative cinematographic techniques, various symbols of West African religion, and a clear and concise political message that is powerful, if not especially visually pleasing.

The Middle Passage tells the story of the experiences of the millions of people (250 million according to Deslauriers!) who were enslaved by West African kingdoms (such as Dahomey), sold to Europeans, and forced over the Atlantic ocean to work in the Americas, through the narrative of a murdered slave who still "haunts" the passage. It is a slow, symbolic, movie that aims for effect via the recurrent imagery of waves lapping against the hull of the boat, rats in the slave hold, and the festering wounds of slaves. The director uses an off-focus lens to blur many scenes, and often frames shots of the French slavers in a very depersonalized way, which works to establish the intersection of history (docu-) and memory (drama). The narrative simultaneously, and somewhat contradictorily, emphasizes the diversity of the African captives while seeking to construct a common continental identity among them by referencing a multitude of religious icons and shared social institutions.

While Deslauriers makes a good effort at this, the artistic aspects of the movie comes across as kind of bland, overdone, and even boring towards the end. The emotional response that he is trying to foster somehow didn't materialize for me - possibly due to the cerebral nature of the script. But the real strength of the movie is not its cinematography, but in the political message it advocates. The contradictory message of diverse "Africans" is laid bare in the final minutes when the narrator states that the middle passage was "a kind of vaccination" for the horrors of slavery to come, and that it created a "new race" of people. Although the temporal reference in the movie is deliberately unclear, The Middle Passage seems to be alluding to the notion of the creation of "race" beginning in the 1500s. References throughout the film suggest that it was the brutality of the Europeans that created a shared understanding of the "African", which obviously did not exist in an era of relatively isolated villages and kingdoms. This is powerful because it links the political claims of those of descendants of slaves in the present wholly to the atrocities of, and interaction with, the Europeans. In other words, the racialized identities of both Europeans and Africans are dependent on the longstanding historical relationship between these two broad groups, and thus any solutions dealing with present problems necessarily require the recognition of this historical interrelationship.

And this is precisely what Deslauriers unequivocally emphasizes. The narrator reminds the audience that it is not the descendants of those that suffered the horrors of the Middle Passage and beyond, or those who suffered under the ineptitude and greed of corrupt African "princes" that should be blamed for their current plight. Rather, blame should be placed on those who gained from this cruel institution and system of relations - and their descended beneficiaries. The institution of slavery is still with us, embedded in our postcolonial societies. If it is not prevalent in overt practice (though existent), it can still be seen in the inequality, discrimination, cultural denigration and remnants of a genocidal past that still flaunts itself in all of our faces. Deslauriers calls for - quite simply - a meaningful dialogue that actually seeks to address the past, rather than those noncommittal people who hope that the kinks will iron themselves out as time transforms memories into forgetfulness. He is much more critical of those who know, and yet actively seek to silence those memories. Ignorance is complicity, and to be complicit is to actively pick up the muskets and whips that European slavers and African kings wielded against so many human beings.

The Middle Passage is a refreshing political manifesto seeking to bridge historical memory with our present political praxis, and I argue that it does so quite effectively. However, this is likely to be lost on the very people that Deslauriers is trying to reach most, due in large part to the cerebral nature of the script and abstract imagery and symbolism. Moreover, from a purely aesthetic point of view, although the film flirts with genius, in the end it delivers a product somewhere between cliche and monotony. Unfortunately, I fear, the effect of the urgent political message greatly diminishes as a result of these failures. The general lack of interest in the film, though it it is available in both English and French, likely confirms my fears.

Symphony and Sense

2007-11-05T10:28:00.000-08:00

Who doesn't like good music? Although I've met people who are decidedly (and self-describingly) "anti-music" in my life, most people I talk to are passionate about some form of music or other. I spent this morning indulging in song after song of my "favorite" music: metal. But instead of talking all about metal (though that will come shortly on another site), I would rather ruminate incoherently on the personal experiences that we have with music more generally.

Music, like all cultural productions, evokes an emotional response in the listener that depends on a whole host of factors. Contemporary researchers (such as Bourdieu) have focused on the socioeconomic influence on musical taste, but this is hardly the whole story. Certainly, common cultural bonds rooted in geography, 'race', and class play an important role. But alone, this analysis obscures the deeper connections that some people make with music: that is, the meaning that it has in the constitution of people's personal identities.

It is difficult, and dangerous, to separate personal from social identity - the two are as deeply interconnected as structure and agency. However, in our current technological era, with the ability for most people to independently engage with music, what motivates people to listen to what they listen to? Now, Bourdieu's concept of 'habitus' can take us some of the way in explaining this. For many, private musical consumption mirrors public consumption, easily explained by their internalization of the relevant and appropriate cultural norms for musical taste. But what about others who seemingly straddle typical 'determining factors' for musical preference such as socioeconomic status, geography, and historical time period? What about the poor black Georgian who is piqued by Nordic Viking Metal, despite having no prior contact to the subculture? There is something intimate and highly subjective about musical affinity at its point of first contact that cannot be wholly explained with reference to 'objective' social structures, as they are elucidated by Bourdieu.

I can remember well over a decade ago listening to Astrud Gilberto and Stan Getz's version of Girl from Ipanema, having had no real prior exposure to anything Brazilian (though I did have a longstanding interest in Venezuela) and immediately feeling an unexplainable rush. "World music" was not a particularly popular genre at the time, Brazil had not then gained the international stature that it has now, and this was long before the advent of internet music (aside from MIDI). Prior to this experience, my interests were in popular alternative music and classic rock, hardly in sync with the off-time of bossa nova. How might I explain this sudden connection with a brand new musical style?

I don't think we should abandon the concept of habitus in explaining musical taste, nor am I arguing for a wholly, or even mostly, subjective relationship between an individual and their musical experience. Clearly, it would be false to presuppose such an autonomous relationship when both individual and music only emerge from within social and cultural contexts. But equally as clearly, there are ambiguous, contradictory, and counter-intuitive cultural currents that must be built into any concept of habitus. Any notion of habitus has to take into account what is at the depths of culture, not just at its surface. But to make a short foray in this direction, let me ask a question. Can you provide an anecdote of a particular musical taste you have come to like personally that does not match your 'objective' social background? Why is it that you like that music, and what made you engage with it in the first place?

Response: On Realism and Environmental Advocacy

2007-10-29T12:12:00.000-07:00

A debate has been brewing over the last few weeks between myself and a colleague of mine on the nature of 'truth' and reality and its extension to environmental advocacy strategies. This debate has been especially interesting, picking up from my post on Manuel DeLanda earlier this month and leading most recently to a comment, which I highly recommend reading, available here. The following is a response to that posting, along with a summary reiteration of my earlier position.

I appreciate the simplification of my point - which I wouldn't call 'postmodernist' as much as a position within 'Critical Theory' - but I think what I was trying to get at was missed in the process. Fundamentally, the two positions you are describing involve truth claims about the world, and it is precisely this that I want to think critically about. First, I’ll explain my ‘philosophical’ (or methodological) position on this, then my ‘political’, and finally, bring the two together.

The points that Manuel DeLanda uses to justify his realism, and the ones you bring up in your posting, are inevitably anthropocentric, as is my own position. But they are also anthropomorphic, something I want to explicitly argue against. Let me ask a simple question - 'What is Art?' Is it art when it appears on a tableau? When it involves patterns? When it is 'consciously' or 'deliberately' created? These are extremely biased questions about what is essentially an anthropocentric concept to begin with. We, socially subjectively, define the limits of what "art" is and determine what qualifies and what does not. DeLanda imputes a thoroughly human (and likely culturally specific) understanding of 'art' onto the birds in his example to make a point about the realm of humans - a blatant display of anthropomorphism. In contrast, I argue that any definitive claims about realms outside the human experience are necessarily anthropomorphic, and thus we should readily disclose that position, instead of making and hiding human concepts, values and beliefs in the secure sphere of a higher authority ('nature'). This is ultimately a question of power: to what extent are aspects of humanity immutable - that is, 'natural'? To what extent do our social institutions, practices and norms, beliefs and values have objectively independent manifestations outside of humanity?

This has important implications for the various politics that we are constantly engaged in, especially the current struggle over human ecology. But I look to history to determine how we might frame and shape it. Marxists and Anarchists have long sought to reorient the terms of their debates with their political opponents by freeing it from the realm of humans, thereby gaining legitimacy and authority to carry out their various projects. In these cases, it was partly idealism, stemming from a higher religious authority, that spurred them to embrace the kind of realism that Mao and Lenin were thinking of when they argued that the dialectic contradiction was an essential characteristic of every unit of matter in the universe. Kropotkin tirelessly appealed to the natural world to shore up support for the ideas that mutual aid institutions are a natural part of humanity, against the realism of disfigured Darwinists.

This is an appealing strategy for political action, since it appears to be the ‘easy way out’. By establishing a truth claim that supports your political values, you only need to extend that truth claim to dominate all others, and defend it vigorously against future competing truth claims. Conversely, by orienting human questions around human values, you condition yourself to an endless and grueling battle to assert the "hegemony" (used loosely) of certain values - a constant flux of power-laden ideas, unanchorable within our social vortex. We know the story of the former strategy - realism was coopted (and significantly placed on a pedestal) by those who used it to hide a different set of values within the absolute truths of our time. Pertaining to ecology, realism proved to be highly amenable to the transformation that 'the Great Chain of Being' was to undergo with the loss of its Christian foundations. Carried on in the tradition of Western science, and aided and abetted by scientific Marxism at every turn, what many environmentalists struggle so hard against today has its genesis in the tradition of realism.

Concerning environmental advocacy, the reorientation of debates away from instrumental rationality, though an extremely difficult task, is both necessary and desirable. But how this is done is perhaps my political point of contention. Using realism to achieve this goal - by exclaiming that, objectively, every aspect of non-human nature is "good, in and of itself" - does nothing to challenge the power structure of the human belief system, and is almost certainly to lead to the eventual resurgence of instrumental rationality. In political terms, what is needed is not a change in the government of the governance of the ecological debate, but a regime change that transforms the foundational elements of the way truths are constructed in society.

Thus, I see the philosophical component of environmental advocacy as inextricably intertwined with the political projects that make it up. However, my point was fundamentally missed by equating anthropocentrism with cost-benefit instrumental rationality and with postmodernism (it is not through discourse that we can only understand the world, but as humans, only in human terms, terms which may be fundamentally experiential and non-discursive). What Weber meant by instrumental rationality, and as Habermas has subsequently developed, is not that the the act of valuation is free of 'ends'. I value a tree because it fulfills a psychological and emotional function of my humanity, not because it will become a chair I will sit on. Rather, it is the kind of thought (and really valuation, but a critique of Weber will have to wait), now commonly associated with 'cost-benefit analyses' that need to be rejected. This is inescapably anthropocentric, just as all human action must be - after all, Weber's typology aimed to describe 'social' action. But claiming that this is something that must be 'avoided' only furthers the false dichotomy that 'humans' and 'nature' are separate entities. Rather, it is the combination of anthropocentrism and anthropomorphism with instrumental rationality that needs to be rethought.

All variants of realism seek to covertly extend human values onto nature, thereby claiming an objectively independent basis for their values, which mask the power that they wield. In seeking to circumvent anthropocentrism, we will only further entrench it in the structure of our knowledge systems, something that has been done for far too long in the academy and in 'Western' society. Rather we should embrace our anthropocentrism, and recognize that the range of values and possible actions that we can engage in are endless. This may be a gruelling and thankless task - defeatists might say impossible - but if we are to challenge the Enlightenment project that threatens the world, our world, we must attack it at its roots. Usurpation ultimately never cuts the head off the king. It only holds the place until another usurper, preaching a different message, comes along.

Four Messages about Life from Spiderman 3

2007-10-28T18:50:00.000-07:00

There is no shortage of movies indirectly (or directly) tackling the central themes of the political economic culture of the United States. I had the displeasure of watching Spiderman 3 the other night and found it to participate in the indoctrination of the American populace, alongside more prominent recent releases such as 300. Granted the entire Marvel genre has a storied history of nationalism alongside the appeal to the rebelliousness of teenagers, but Spiderman 3 reeks of pure Hollywood baloney.

The theme of the film - though it doesn't become clear until quite late, with the numerous plot developments the director crams in - is the 'choices we must make'. This is by now a tired story, and I always wonder, how many times can it get rehashed for mass consumption before people get sick and tired of it, or the additional cost of tacking on SFX filler gets to be too much? We all have the ability to bring out the good and bad within us, and so we must choose between the right and wrong, the good and evil, in life. Ok, this doesn't sound all that bad, if slightly boring - but what kind of choices are good, and what are bad? Let us examine the characters, somewhat shallowly, to find some hints.

Peter Parker is, as usual, the classic representation of the American dream. He is a nobody trying to make a name for himself in the big city. Of course, he must 'take his lumps' as he works his way up the career ladder to (eventual) success. His alter-ego, Spiderman, is also the same icon of the selfless man, giving all for fellow citizen, community, city and country - in his spare leisure time, of course. The third film stays true to this, but introduces a few variants: Parker becomes increasingly egoistic and cocky about his alter-ego, especially after the scene were the strange space-goo lands on earth, and this leads to obvious problems in his personal life. Message #1: "practice humility, or else you'll piss people off" - ok, not a terrible lesson to have kids learn.

But of course, an illegal alien arrives, in the form of an "oily" goo from space, which supposedly amplifies peoples character traits. When Spiderman is temporarily 'infected', he becomes quite - well, you'll have to watch the movie to see just what he becomes. Skip ahead to the arrival of Venom, and we see just what this alien oil is all about. Venom is the epitome of what the "foreign temptation" can do for you: bring success quickly, but ultimately corrupt who you really are. Eddie, Peter Parker's real-life enemy, is first infected, then actively embraces this "foreign temptation" as it is passed from Spiderman in, of all places, a church. The oily goo is a placeholder for a number of different symbols, but the Islamic connotation is strong. It cannot stand the sound of church bells, which is ultimately the way to defeat it. Other potential candidates are illegal aliens, due to its origins, and non-christian 'carnal passions', due to the effects that it has on people (makes them feel 'so good', leads to extensive dating, etc.). Message #2: Resist "foreign temptations" that will ultimately corrupt your true American spirit. Hmmm.

The other major enemy, the Sandman, is quite enigmatic. On the one hand, he represents the elusive Arab terrorist, always looking for money to fund his unknown plots, and able to disappear with ease. But as the movie develops, we see that this is not the main intention of the director. Instead, Flint Marko is a symbol of the wrong choices otherwise good Americans can make. Flint explains near the end of the movie that he only got involved with crime to be able to buy the medicine his daughter desperately needed for an operation. Clearly, this is the wrong thing to do. In the end, Marko's character is forgiven by Spiderman, though he is wrought with anguish, repentance, and doomed to live a solitary life, as if he were dead. Message #3: "Even if your intentions are good, it's best to avoid all of the problems associated with crime. Suck it up, and hope your child pulls through. Or lobby the Democrats to pass a universal healthcare bill".

The final character is a villain who becomes an ally. Harry represents the capitalist elite in American society. While his father was driven by a quest for greed and personal glory that ultimately led him to wage a war on the American way of life, Harry's character in Spiderman 3, bridges the gap to aid Spiderman in his efforts to conquer the foreign presence. Message #4: "Capitalism may have screwed you over in the past, but when it comes to keeping out foreign influences in order to protect America, you can count on it. Oh, and it may help you save something else too:

The supporting character, Mary Jane, is the purpose of all this manly jockeying and flexing of muscles. She is constantly used by one enemy after the other to attack Peter "where it hurts most: his heart". Clearly, we must fight for our wives (and mothers - don't forget Aunt May) if the fight for our country is to have any meaning. Much more could be said about the gender roles in Spiderman 3, but I'll leave that for the comments.

Down the Yellow Brick Road, One Last Time

2007-10-21T19:36:00.001-07:00

I've long been in private discussions over the relationship between 'free/fair' markets, the validity of gold as a potential currency, and the role of government intervention in markets, and so this post may appear slightly out of context, but it is a response to comments made by Chris Powell of the Gold Anti-Trust Action Committee (GATA). The article is available here: http://www.gata.org/node/5654

The folks at GATA are not necessarily conspiratorial kooks, as they have been pejoratively described. Rather, they are ultra-right wing 'free' marketeers leading an ignorant, misguided, and manipulated - though passionate - segment of the middle-class, nostalgic for the bygone days of pre-73'. Just like, and yet opposite, their counterparts in dominant orthodox economics departments worldwide, they lead those desperate to believe the utopian call for 'free markets' by creating a conspiracy out of what is an obvious and very well-known fact: central banks do intervene and is an explicit part of their mandate.

Where this becomes especially manipulative is when the Midas-wannabes at GATA allege that the actions of all the world's central banks are aimed at the "price suppression of gold". Either this is extreme ignorance demonstrating a thorough lack of understanding about the way global prices operate in a semi-floating exchange rate system, an inane ego-mania that is likely what warrants GATA being branded 'conspiracy theorists', or most likely, a rhetorical tactic to simplify a complex (though unfair) global economy for mass public consumption which masks the elite interests that it truly serves.

The main objective of central banks (dealing with fiat currency) worldwide is to maintain the stability of their currencies, and thus national economies, in the pursuit of various distributions and allocations of wealth in society. These objectives can vary drastically, but usually aim to dampen business cycles by bailing out uber-capitalist bankers, and inducing certain consumer behaviours (in investment for example) by setting interest rates and adjusting the money supply. We can, and should, dispute who is served most by this system (consider for example, that the vast majority of bankers have obtained a safety blanket in the current sub-prime debacle while unlucky home buyers declare bankruptcy by the thousands), but we should also note that the ability to adjust the money supply somewhat arbitrarily provides a modicum of support for workers and consumers who would otherwise be flattened in the event of an exogenous shock (say a shortage in staple foods, driving up prices).

The price of currencies and commodities in this mixed or 'managed float' exchange system are mostly set by independent and institutional investors, and supposedly reflect their confidence in those currencies (though much currency trading is predatory, irrational and of course, speculative). The extent to which these currencies are impacted by this trading depends on the relative interest they attract in currency markets, and the strength of its central bank carrying out its 'management' of the price. Gold is viewed - although highly problematically - as an alternate 'safe-haven' to the US dollar, which has long maintained its hegemony in global currency markets, and thus as confidence in the US dollar declines, the Federal Reserve sells gold to buoy the price of the USD, just as Asian central bankers manage their USD reserves to set the prices of their currencies. That currencies and commodities are all interconnected in global markets is hardly a conspiracy - though some may wish to frame it that way.

Our current mixed exchange system (with the exception of a few fully-fixed, 'dollarized' economies) is the historical antecedent of the Bretton Woods system, which is itself the antecedent of a full gold standard system, explains the lingering cultural obsession with gold (which is as arbitrary as any finite, durable, and portable commodity), along with the irrational and naive nostalgia of those imagining a corruption-free and opulent 1920s. That is indeed true conservatism. Ironically, those clamoring loudest for a return to the "realities" of the gold standard, are those who undoubtedly benefited the most from the Keynesianism of the 50's and 60's - the so-called 'Golden Age', imperfect though it was. Where gold advocates are so far gone, however, is when they presume gold to be a "real" standard of value, unlike "false" fiat, seeking to secure some sort of false legitimacy. This masks the real point at issue - they are dissatisfied with the arbitrary hegemony of the USD (or the Euro, or Yen, etc.), which obviously does not benefit them directly as it does primary shareholders in the fiat system, and want to replace it with the equally arbitrary hegemony of gold. Thus, those who advocate the dissolution of the central banking system may drape their call in the language of the radical democratization of economic control, but what they are really advocating is a much darker minority class revolution against the current elite, and most certainly against the masses. It is no surprise then that major notable supporters of the gold standard are Ayn Randian Objectivists, Austrian School Economists and hard-line monetarists like Milton Friedman, conservative populist Ron Paul, and yes, even Alan Greenspan (and we know where his interests lie).

And that is really what the reification of gold is really about - the return to the gold standard - even if it is idealized as being controlled decentrally via the world price, rather than by a government of body of governments. It is gold that is true, and nothing else; gold that deserves to be hegemonic, and consequently, those that control it. It is, in the end, a utopian call for "free" markets, so akin to neoliberals, and so fundamentally ironical that it borders on farce, that is most deadly to the multidude of disenfranchised who would be told to "sink or swim". This class project has already been carried out too many times, and the story is always the same.

Supporters of gold must either admit their complicity in this class project, and engage in clear debates that will ultimately expose their true intentions, or accept that the price of gold is by no means an improvement over our current broken system. What is needed is progressive and pointed criticism of the current economic order, and suggestions towards a better and alternative future, not reactionary criticism that will ultimately work to entrench the current order, or worse, successfully push it further right. It's time to end this 'yellow brick road' fantasy, so emblematic of yet another manipulative fallacy, and finally focus on meeting the needs of all, so we can collectively explore our creative ingenuity.

Yeah MMP - No, You Don't Know Me

2007-10-10T13:24:00.001-07:00

Well, as usual, this post is coming much too late. But, better late than never, and at least I can use this moment to make a foolish prediction before the votes are tabulated. MMP will not pass in Ontario tonight, but I, ever the optimist, think it will garner between 51 and 55% of the vote, probably on the lower end of that range. The reasons for this are diffuse: anti-MMP media coverage in the urban local media, and a poorly timed and planned public awareness campaign on one hand, and a sense of real excitement by all marginalized groups (left and ultra-right) in Ontario that this is a chance to make a real change on the other. I still haven't decided whether or not MMP will gain a simple majority in each riding - I have my doubts about some of the rural ridings in Ontario, since, unlike with STV in BC in 2005, outlying ridings aren't likely to benefit with MMP. Probably it will fail on both super majority requirements, though will get closer than most pundits are predicting.

Anyway, I want to use this time to clear up two major issues that have been flying around about MMP, which, as of yet, I haven't heard anyone explain adequately. The first regards the increase or decrease in accountability with the new system, the second is about the 'democratic' nature of open-list PR.

First, MMP does not produce more 'accountability', a loaded word if I ever heard one. The current FPTP system blends two distinct political identities into a singly vote - namely, the individual or 'personal' candidate identity, and the party identity. It is extremely unclear in most cases to any analyst or politician just what we are voting for when we go to the polls. Many people know extremely little about their individual candidate's biography or accomplishments and instead rely on cues from their party affiliation. Some people disdain party politics altogether and vote solely on the candidate's merit. Still more know a little bit of both and in many cases face an internal struggle of what identity to vote for - person or party. Such was the case in the 2004 federal election where many extremely popular candidates were thrown out because of their Liberal party affiliation.

What MMP does produce is the distinction and integrity of the votes cast (a form of accountability I suppose) so that we can single out each aspect of a given candidate's identity and engage in a more nuanced and complex selection process. This is why many proponents rightfully claim it is a more 'democratic' system, since the electoral process pays much closer attention to our personal preferences as political subjects. Actually, I kind of lied. MMP, as a mixed system, does not truly separate our preferences into two distinct camps. Instead, it keeps the muddled camp of personal candidate and party, and then adds a third camp for just the party affiliation. A much better system, though Utopian and impracticable given the historical evolution of the party system in Canada, would be to disallow party affiliations for individual candidates at the local level, and maintain provincial (or federal) parties. In any event, MMP in its proposed form is clearly better at capturing the diversity of people's political preferences than FPTP, and goes some 0f the way (though not far) in resolving Charles Lindblom's classic dilemma (see The Market System).

The second point regards the selection process of the party list system. Proponents of MMP somewhat erroneously claim that the new electoral system will immediately bring more diversity in candidates (i.e.: women, visible minorities). This is false, since the proposal of the Citizen's Assembly, to the best of my knowledge (though I haven't checked officially), does not clearly stipulate how nominations to the list will occur, only that the list must be made public some time before the election. Now, most reasonable analysts note that the process is likely to be the same as the current party nomination process, which isn't very democratic. There is one slight difference however that could make a big impact: the public scrutiny function.

Currently, party nominations occur completely behind closed doors, and when the official procedures are followed, a select minority of the party elite get to be part of the selection process. When a candidate is finally revealed to the public, in most cases, we have no knowledge of the wrangling that happened behind the scenes - the public is presented with a single candidate, take them or leave them. Because this process happens in diffuse ridings, most electors do not pay attention to other non-high profile candidates in other ridings. Since the homogeneity that one so often finds within a party's candidates is primarily decentralized and local, with no direct mechanism for concerned citizens in Toronto to raise eyebrows at the candidate selected in Kenora, it makes fingering a party's racism and sexism extremely difficult.

The list system forces the party to put its cards, so to speak, on the table in terms of what it stands for. Since everyone in the province will eventually vote for the candidate list, there is more 'accountability' to voters to justify why the composition of that list is the way it is. There is also a direct interest for provincial and national media to scrutinize the party lists, since it becomes a provincial issue. Rarely do media institutions beyond the local or urban criticize the nominee process, except in a general way that leads party leaders to blush, say 'oops', and move on with their rejection of diversity. To be clear, there is nothing in the electoral system that guarantees this process becomes more accountable. This is a cultural issue as much as it is geographic one. But I would argue that the format of this electoral system makes it easier to force parties to respond substantively to these issues. The empirics from other countries, for the most part, support this argument as well.

So, a futile post perhaps (though not as intellectual excercize), but at least it will be ready the next time we have to vote for electoral reform. In the meantime, cast your vote in the spectacle we call democracy, and hold on for your life for the next four years. The likely outcome on both the ballot and electoral reform are not likely to bode well for anyone that I would like to be reading this post.

Tragedy for the Commons

2007-10-09T11:42:00.001-07:00

There's nothing quite like a brisk walk through the forest in autumn. The leaves displaying every hue of green, yellow, orange and red, and the crisp air make September through November the best time of year in Ottawa, in my opinion. But imagine my surprise when, in trying to access a particular entry point to Pinhey Forest off of Slack Road, I found the path barred and closed indefinitely. Now, this particular entry point happens to be on leased property, at the back of a Church to be precise, and I had a sneaking suspicion that the relatively new tenants of the building, Living Waters Christian Assembly, had something to do with it.

Let me say from the outset that I have no particular vendetta with any religious organization, except a general disdain for the hypocrisy of rhetoric and reality that the vast majority of these institutions perpetrate. I would like to say that evangelical groups do not make this list, led defiantly in the west by the Catholic Church, but unfortunately, those that I have observed are certainly card-carrying instigators of social oppression. In retrospect, my mistake was prejudging Living Waters, a faith I had hitherto heard nothing about, for rabid antisocial and exclusionary behavior. Nevertheless, I was certainly not incorrect in my rash presuppositions, and what follows is an account and analysis of a tragedy for the commons.

So, after finishing my walk via an access located 300m or so down Slack Road (which, repaved and speed limit increased, is living up to its earlier drag strip title - this safety reference just a nod to all those affronted by any deviation from legal orthodoxy), I returned home and decided I would finally follow through on some long-hidden and unknown interest in investigative journalism. I called up Ottawa's good friends, the NCC (National Capital Commission), to ask two questions: 1) when was this access point closed? and 2) why? The poor young girl who answered the phone on Thanksgiving Sunday afternoon clearly had no idea what I was talking about and told me about the temporary Greenbelt closures easily found on the website. I thanked her, and she told me to call the NCC corporate office on Tuesday to find out more.

I diligently did so, only to find that my poking around had already made it to the head of the Greenbelt, whom I was transferred to when I called. I reiterated my questions, and this time got an answer. The access was closed in September of 2006 in response to "off-hours access and illegal activity" that Living Waters brought to NCC's attention. As Lessee's of the land leading to the access point, Living Waters clearly had some weight to throw around in dictating NCC policies. When I asked whether or not any legal challenges were threatened if NCC did not act, the spokesperson became defensive arguing that "We responded to the demands because they were reasonable. Other community members raised questions and when we told them this they agreed with our decision" ... I was almost waiting for him to say "now why won't you?". Of course, I wasn't arguing against the decision on the phone, knowing just what good that would bring, but I could clearly sense some tension around this decision. So I left it at that, hung up, and started writing this entry.

Really, the quibble over the actual access itself is a moot point. Unless you have young children, or are afraid of cars speeding by you at 90km/h as you walk alongside the road, the 300m hike to the next entry point is not the end of the world (though the safety concern does indeed loom for parents with young children, or dogs). Rather my point of contention is over the espoused values and rhetoric of religious institutions in general, and specifically Living Waters, that are clearly out of sync with their daily practices. I quibble with the fact that this access point has been open at least (but more likely longer) for the past 20 years, with no complaints from the previous church tenant (maybe Anglican?), but has suddenly closed within two years of the new lessee taking up tenancy. I have a problem when the access of the majority is restricted due to the minority imposition of private proprietorship.

Are kids going and drinking in this forest after hours? Yes, of course. Many spots in that forest are hallowed grounds for the rites of passage of local youths who have been using it for at least 20 years. Will closing off that particular access point stop them from doing so? No, closing ALL access points will not stop them, and beyond recognizing that criminalizing major aspects of youth culture is both futile and regressive, and working to understand why this culture manifests itself in our society, there is not a whole lot about underage drinking that we can do. Religious institutions that preach community, love, respect and encourage diversity would do well to implement their rhetoric in practice, instead of engaging in xenophobia and religious jingoism while slowly pinching pennies from the in-group.

The main issue is that, in preaching to profess the words of Jesus (what happened to 'Love thy Neighbor' and 'Do Unto Others'?), Living Waters is actually engaging in belligerently antisocial and certainly anti-neighborly behavior. Even if these "off-hour" visitors were leaving beer bottles in their parking lot, does it make sense to barricade the property, mistakenly believing you can keep the infidels away from your flock? Wouldn't it be better to start a constructive dialogue with the community and invite local kids to alternative events on church property? Even a sign that says, 'please do not litter' might go a long way in reaching the eco-consciousness of suburban kids. In any event, there is no evidence that these people were doing anything of the sort anyway.

It is a tragedy for the commons, for the community, when the civic tone is changed for little purpose other than to assert private property rights and paranoid isolationism. If good communities are about trust, as Robert Putnam roughly argues, then this particular "assembly" is like the thief in the night. True, we may only lose a small amount in tangible terms - 300m along a barren road is not the worst inconvenience one could suffer, especially in light of the NCC's general plan to plow over the Greenbelt in favor of suburban housing - but the long term loss in active "community", in opportunities for relationships, dialogue, friendliness etc., will trickle down for years to come.

Nothing Like a Good Oxford-Style Debate

2007-10-05T14:02:00.000-07:00

The Economist is launching a new gimmick set to start mid-October that asks participants to "take part in a severest contest between intelligence, which presses forward, and an unworthy, timid ignorance obstructing our progress"- a debate, Oxford style.

Besides the obvious cultural bias built-in to the debate structure that favor any aversed in the Oxford Style, the English language, and Anglo-American society, there is a more sinister and clearly deliberate agenda being perpetuated by the Economist in this 'debate'.

The Economist allows web users to 'vote' on the proposition to be debated. This first round is about education, and the 'audience' has five positions to choose from. The phrasing of these propositions uses positive language in favor of the value assumptions of the Economist (namely free markets, competition, deregulation and the marketization of government, to name a few), which is likely to implant the 'correctness' of these positions in people's mind (not that most Economist readers need much convincing). As an example, one proposition states "This house believes that the 'digital divide' is a secondary problem in the educational needs of developing countries" - the authoritative language does not leave much room for debate.

Secondly, team debating has been done away with, and in its place two individuals will square off. What is especially interesting is that the Economist decides who will be debating, chosen from a panel of 'experts', and they will only release these names once the proposition has been chosen. Effectively, and likely, the Economist can mismatch the competition so that the proposition they support comes out on top. The audience is allowed to participate, but only secretively, and comments or questions will be screened by the moderator. These veto points simply turn the debate into a spectacle of capitalist power excercise through the assertion of Economist-friendly values.

In an age where 'full' democracy supposedly reigns, the Economist could open up the discussion to the general public at extremely low-cost. But they insist on staying true to their nineteenth century roots: the advancement of the capitalist project at all costs by continuing to hide behind prejudiced notions of 'intelligence' and 'ignorance'. Almost certainly, those who do not conform to the Economist's format - arguing for or against a proposition using a specific brand of western rationality enveloped in neoclassical economic theory - will be termed 'unworthy'. Pure intellectual theatre may certainly entertain an uncritical middle class, but it is hardly a debate in the real sense of the word.

So, in spite of the history of the Economist and everything it has stood for "journalistically" since its inception to the public discourse, I propose (somewhat laughably) that they use their vast resources to hold a true debate, one not confined to the "spirit of the Oxford" style, which really means controlling the limits of discussion within the narrow realm of 'acceptability'. In a society supposedly promoting 'liberalism', capitalist technocracy continually stands tall as a dominant ideal. If liberalism is truly an ideal, and not just rhetoic, the Economist should open this debate up to anyone and everyone who has an interest in contributing. The problem is, they might not be able to handle the results.

On the Realism of Manuel DeLanda (and Gilles Deleuze)

2007-10-01T12:25:00.001-07:00

Manuel DeLanda has often spoke at the European Graduate School as part of the Gilles Deleuze chair he holds there. The EGS publishes many of its lectures online, and a 2007 lecture DeLanda gave there dealing with Chapter 3 of Deleuze and Guattari's A Thousand Plateaus has made its way onto Youtube (for the lecture series, visit: http://youtube.com/watch?v=zqisvKSuA70&mode=related&search=).

The subject of this lecture dealt with Deleuze's interest in the animal world, and why humans concerned only with the human world must expand the scope of their interests to the the 'natural' world in order to more fully experience the richness of life. As DeLanda notes, we must "learn from the world itself", in order to ensure that our "pride of being human" doesn't prevent the deeper experiences we have when relating with our environments. In short, we must try to be "like rocks, or like birds". While I thoroughly agree with the principle of this position - that life itself should not, and cannot be limited to the human realm, that instead we must embrace the phenomenal diversity of the human experience - my point of critique is primarily methodological.

DeLanda begins by discussing 'expressivity' as a fundamental feature of the living and nonliving world. A crystal expresses its 'crystalness' regardless of human interaction when its molecules interact with light, when its molecules rest atop soil molecules, when it transforms the path of wind by its simple presence. This is a very attractive concept, and so encompassing (some might say 'totalitarian'), that it is hard to disagree with. Indeed, I don't wish to reject the concept of expressivity, if I do think the concept is a slightly clunky replacement for materiality. However, the use of 'expressivity' to account for this phenomena in ontology does imply, to me, something essential, something independent, something immanent.

And this is precisely what DeLanda states explicitly - he and Deleuze are realists precisely because they believe in the independence, one might say the isolation, of materiality. Things come from themselves, not from something else. It is hard to disagree with this point as well. We cannot say that the bourgeois make alienation, or that the sun makes cherry blossoms flower. To 'make' this extreme claim, one would have to tread towards dangerously close determinism. However, the other extreme (though not so distanced), that every aspect of materiality is independent and individual is equally worrisome. It is not an either/or question of ontology, but rather the space in between - the interactions, the interconnectedness, the inseparability of materiality.

This must apply to the human world as well, and therefore it is more than a little problematic to talk about these separate spheres of 'animal', 'plant', 'geologic' and 'human' as differentiated worlds (and within them, countless differentiations as well). They are deeply intertwined, contingent 'spheres'. And it is here where my point of contention with DeLanda (and probably, by extension, Deleuze) lies. I can accept this differentiation of ontology as existent, but this is where the ability to say more about our world, and indeed to experience that world, ends. The next step is a question of interpretation, and this is, since we are humans, a human endeavour.

It is easy to see how, through language, our interpretation of the world is constructed. But even our experiences, constantly vetted by our socialization, (or, if you prefer, environmentalization) and by our very 'humanity', are regulated in immensely complex and interdependent, but finite ways. Now, this is not to make a case for a highly complicated determinism. Rather it is to say that human action is contingent on the confluence of ontology and epistemology at any given moment. Thus, it is impossible, as humans, to talk about understanding the (non)lived experience of a crystal without referring to the contextuality of the human (but more often much more cultural, social, political and personal) experience.

One might present the teleological argument that humanity is full of potential that we must actualize, and I am not necessarily against this position directly. Human nature, the range of all possible human experience and expression is impossibly vast and entirely out the scope of my thinkable range to provide even a brief overview of it at this given moment, let alone at all temporal points. However, this vastness and the unpredictability of history makes these kinds of claims extremely difficult. It is always easy to look at an Oak tree and hold a seed and make the link, but much harder to predict from the seed what will emerge.

The point of all this is to say that the interconnections of our atoms that relate to form our psyches, whose manifestations relate to form our society which relate to form our humanity, which is itself only a small part of an interrelationship between our ecology, and so on, preclude us of making definite statements on the veracity of independent reality. What we are ultimately making statements about is our interpretation of this reality.

Thus, when DeLanda says "we must be more like a rock, or more like a bird", what he is really saying is "we must be more like our personal and social human interpretation of the expressivity of 'rockness'". This might be a moot point to some, but it is a debate that is laden with power. The knowledge that we create when we express our experiences affects us in very real ways but it can only ever explain the power relations that actually “do” the shaping of our realities, since it is a product of these relations themselves. Simply, there may be a “truth” existing in the world, an absolute form of 'rockness' independent of individual or social subjectivity – that is, traditionally ‘objective’ – but it is unimportant, since we can never know it because our understanding of it will always be mediated by our surroundings.

The Social Costs of Technological Change

2007-10-01T09:46:00.000-07:00

Here's a very brief addendum to the previous post:

The CCCE (Canadian Council of Chief Executives) released a report today calling for substantial absolute reductions in greenhouse gas emissions that must be borne by all sectors (of industry and society). Basically, they are proposing a domestic emissions trading scheme similar to Kyoto, or else a carbon tax, which should be offset by other tax reductions. Though they utilize the language of collective responsibility and of immense sacrifice, what they are really seeking to do is preserve their existing profitability and the system that they depend on, while shirking the real brunt of the changes off them as much as possible. A capped emissions trading scheme that would begin to decrease greenhouse gasses, if we are to believe the rhetoric of Canadian corporations thus far, is just not possible in the time frame that scientists deem we must act within - that is, not possible if corporations are to keep their profits and share values more or less consistent. A carbon tax would simply offer corporations the option to download the tax onto the consumer in the form of higher prices. When we couple the carbon tax with a reduction in other forms of taxation (a necessary condition for the carbon tax according to the CCCE), namely the corporate tax rate, corporations could stand to improve their profitability. The CCCE says they are not proposing a carbon tax however, since it is unlikely that A) they would actually see an equal or greater reduction in other tax forms when all is said and done, and related to this, B) The PR cost of downloading the tax onto the consumer would be immense, and some portion of it would be non-transferrable, that is, captured by the firms.

Corporations will, at their leisure, undoubtedly change their production methods and technologies to cleaner and more efficient alternatives. This is the Schumpeterian idea of 'creative destruction' that neoliberals have played up so much for the las 30+ years. The question is, and which has been the defining question of our times, is who will bear the brunt of the research costs? The CCCE makes it crystal clear that "investing in technological innovation is the best way to bring about the cleaner technologies that will reduce greenhouse gas emissions". And they point to the state-led federal and Alberta technology funds as the model for who should be doing the investing. Yet again, the distribution of the cost of progressive social change falls heavily on the individual taxpayer, while those who will gain the most from new technologies (in a financial sense) shirk almost all of the financial costs associated with it.

For the original policy report, see:
http://www.ceocouncil.ca/publications/pdf/test_14a7f87d43da18e574aa830d322a9cbe/Clean_Growth_ELI_Policy_Declaration_October_1_2007.pdf
For a CBC article summarizing the report, see:
http://www.cbc.ca/money/story/2007/10/01/climateceo.html?ref=rss

What does Global Warming Threaten? A Critique of David Miliband

2007-09-28T07:15:00.000-07:00

Just a point on a statement made by the UK's Foreign Secretary David Miliband at the United Nations the other day.

Miliband was at the UN speaking on the need for all countries to approach climate change with "common, but differentiated responsibilities", a laudable goal in and of itself. But along the way, he made a reference which seemed quite contradictory: that climate change threatens equality.

Taken at face value, this statement makes logical sense - rising water levels, drought, decreased agricultural production are likely to affect the poorest people in the poorest countries most. And in both principle and in practice, I thoroughly agree with the need to address the atrocious conditions we have created for our planet, and the people in it, therefore it's important not to take what I'm about to say out of context.

In a grand display of pomp and arrogance, Miliaband declares that "we must address the greatest longterm threat to our aspirations to tackle inequality". Given that British inequality is at a 40yr high (for a thorough study see Poverty, Wealth and Place, courtesy of the Rowntree Foundation http://www.jrf.org.uk/bookshop/eBooks/2019-poverty-wealth-place.pdf), this statement is typical New Labour Party doublespeak. The governments of most 'western' nations have had thirty years to prove they are interested in creating even a modicum of equality. Instead, they have chosen to dismantle basic welfare institutions that at least kept inequality in check in favor of flexible accumulation for only the most wealthy. To speak of a common resolve to combat global inequality, which has already increased considerably in recent years, in light of all the efforts made by these same elites to perpetuate that inequality is beyond irony - it's macabre.

When you consider that the poorest of the poor that Miliband references have never recieved the sinister fruits of global warming and pollution, in the form of even basic comforts such as running water and 24hr access to electricity, its quite ridiculous to talk about 'common' responsibility. The history of global capitalism has demonstrated just what the commitment to fighting inequality by those benefeciary nations is: handouts to the poor, so long as they remain poor (and thus dependent on low wages) at the best of times, violent repression or silent ignorance at the worst.

To top it off, the real threat brought on by global warming is not equality. Yes, some nations will be in much better positions to weather the storm brought on by drastic changes to ecosystems, rising water levels, the influx of refugees and global depression. But there is more likely to be a reduction in the security of countries, and especially on the 'developed' countries who are so dependent on fragile infrastucture networks and grids to function, if the catastrophe that is predicted does arrive in great magnitude. Rather, the real threat that global warming will cause is to the capitalist system. Any system that can cause such grave damage to an entire planet in such a relatively short amount of time (~150-200 yrs) is not viable, and must be altered (if not drastically transformed) if these catastrophic outcomes prove correct. Urging action now is a way of trying to keep the growth machine alive, with its constant reiteration of the trickle down myth - directly anathema to the hopes of any substantive equality for the worlds poorest, even if absolute poverty levels diminish slightly.

What Miliband is really saying, is that we urgently need to resolve the crisis of capitalism brought about by global warming if we, as the developed core, want to continue to reap the advantages of the inequalities inherent in the capitalist world system. Those on the periphery need to be able to keep those agricultural and manufacturing workshops open: we can't have work stoppages due to bad weather. The world must keep watching what kind of climate change plan that views "common, but differentiated responsibilities" as integral, and see what actually emerges. If the 'west' is anything like it was - and it is - the rhetoric will far outweigh the reality.

Knocked Up

2007-09-26T09:44:00.000-07:00

I just finished watching Knocked Up and thought I would make a few critical points about the movie. After chatting with a number of people, I was told the movie was extremely funny and decided I would check it out. Besides a few jokes here and there, I didn't find it particularly hilarious, and instead was struck by the arguments the film made about marriage, childbirth, and responsibility.

The first major point of note is how the movie effectively rules out abortion as a possible solution to unwanted pregnancy. The word is never mentioned in the movie directly, and only twice in a "rhymes with" reference. This option is quickly shut down, by a 'Canadian' of all people (and likely from Vancouver of all places, the same city as the main male character) . While it is true that the Canadian equivalent to Roe v. Wade did not come until 1988, there has not been the same kind of agitation for abortion criminalization in the mainstream public discourse as has recently occurred in the US, least of all in a relatively progressive city like Vancouver, which has active pro-choice organizations that routinely advertises on public transportation. The film attempts to fabricate a cross-national consensus that abortion is not an option by choosing the Canadian to decry that possibility, and then quickly assumes that the only option is to follow through with the birth, despite other potential alternatives (e.g. adoption).

The story quickly shifts to the explicitly unlikely scenario that the expecting parents, Ben and Alison, will try to form a viable relationship (that is, not one for the sole sake of the child) despite the lack of similar values, professional paths, lifestyles, and age. In the process, a complicated, but clearly identifiable statement is made about "taking responsibility for oneself". Ben, a young, unemployed, carefree, pothead, generally uninterested in conspicuous consumption and suburban family living (at least with the little of his personal aspirations that we get to know), is slowly directed to grow up and be "responsible". What this is codeword for is falling in line with the capitalist ethos - work hard, avoid illegal indulgences, engage in conspicuous consumption and the acquisition of wealth, and more generally, submit to the dominant norms of your time.
Consistently throughout the film, Ben's 'immaturity' creates difficulties for him in his pursuit of a relationship with the future mother of his child, which he must overcome in order to be a respectable member of society, a competent father, and an appropriate husband. But all the symbolic representations of this immaturity, described above, point to a certain construction of a worker-citizen that is conducive to the general project of capital accumulation.

Second, formal relationships are held up to the highest ideal, even when they must be achieved at all costs. There is a moment as the plot develops where Alison questions this ideal - she makes the point that relationships should not have to be forced, but must be 'natural'. Yet, as they break off their fledgling relationship, things begin to go sour for each of their individual lives (cue the sad music), and they aren't happy. The only way for them to be happy is if they form a family union (with marriage ultimately in mind) and give up their single lives. This of course reinforces the social reproduction funtions of the family that capitalism requires.

There is also a debate over relationship strategies between Alison and her sister. While the former argues to accept the irksome characteristics of her partner, the latter opts to criticize her partner until he conforms to her standards. It is quite clear which strategy wins out in the end. Ben becomes the responsible person that Alison wants him to be, while her sister's husband foregoes any form of social friendship (such as a scandalour fantasy baseball pool) and conforms to the dictates of his wife: he becomes the selfless 'family man'. Together, both couples reaffirm the concept of marriage and the nuclear family, leaving little room for potential alternative relationships (not necessarily gay marriage, which could conceivably fit into this mold, but single parenthood, extended families, etc.).

Knocked Up romanticizes the stressful realities of child rearing by those in precarious financial situations, or who, at a particular point in their lives, are ill-equipped and unenthusiastic about the prospect by creating a personal conflict between the two future parents during the pregnancy whose climax and resolution occur with the childbirth. The birth of the baby automatically produces the rebirth of their relationship, and the rest is happily ever after. Many points that the movie brings up are important ones, such as the difficulties in negotiating personal and social relationships, and the need to constantly reflect on one's life. But it ultimately works to regularize coupled relationships, encourage reproduction at any cost, and attain a specific form of responsibility - all of which directly and indirectly support the capitalist system. This is not to say that coupledom, babies and responsibility are bad things in and of themselves. But given the historical prejudice of Hollywood towards a certain class and ideology, one should always think critically of the messages movies are actually giving.

Update to the Last Post

2007-09-24T13:12:00.000-07:00

My apologies for not including the links to the articles I referenced below. Here they are:

AP article, available from CNN: http://www.cnn.com/2007/WORLD/americas/09/17/chavez.venezuela.ap/index.html

Venezuelanalysis.com article is self-explanatory

The Trials of Hugo Chavez

2007-09-19T12:05:00.000-07:00

For anyone following the course of events upon which Chavez has led Venezuela for the last nine years, two things are immediately clear: the mainstream American press has sought to discredit and attack his policies from day one, and the alternative, broadly 'left', press has sought to vindicate him, and where this was not possible, provide rational justification or at least explanation for his policies. I feel it is necessary to join in this rhetorical struggle by examining two articles on the recent curriculum change in Venezuela that is being ushered in with the new school year.

An AP article covering this story immediately focuses on the least important part of the story: the 'threat' of 'nationalization' if the schools do not adhere to the curriculum. Instead, an article at venezuelanalysis.com delivers a much more informative piece detailing the real newsworthy item: that Venezuela is changing its school curriculum and what they are changing it to. To be clear, this article does not shirk the statement made by Chavez that there must be public oversight of all schools within the country, and that private schools who refuse this will be forced to shut down (with the slack being picked up by the public school system - so called 'nationalization'). Yet it does so in a way this actually informative instead of simply fear-mongering.

While the AP article claims in a trite little sentence that "Just what the new curriculum will include and how it will be applied to all Venezuelan schools and universities remains unclear", the article at Venezuelanalysis.com provides an answer. "The new Bolivarian education is based on four pillars: learn to create, learn to participate and coexist, learn to value, and learn to reflect", which would include revised readings of history that take into consideration relatively recent developments in Latin American historiography. Thus, earlier textbooks glorified 'heroic' conquistadores and portrayed the development and evolution of the Venezuelan nation from the perspective of the contemporary economic elite, conveniently silencing voices in the past who in the present might pose a problem to the tenuous official nationalism geared towards capital accumulation and special privilege. AP conveniently leaves this explantion out, instead editing Chavez only to include the apparently self-explanatory phrase "They taught us to admire Christopher Columbus and Superman", which to an Anglo-American audience with the sort of education system that Chavez is decrying will only make him sound ludicrous.

Of course, Chavez's "Bolivarian" curriculum is clearly designed to serve the interests of his own state to the detriment of his capitalist and elite competitors. No curriculum can ever claim neutrality, for such neutrality does not exist, and Chavez does not deny this. As quoted on venezuelanalysis.com, Chavez states that "we want to create our own collective, creative and diverse ideology". Still, the question of the relative value of two equally normative education systems (the Bolivarian and the capitalist ones) should be secondary to a much more fundamental question. 'Nationalization', a usual suspect on the list of dirty words used to describe Venezuelan developments, in this context merely means standardizing a publicly-developed curriculum across various tiers of education. As Chavez notes, this is something that has been a pillar of western education for nearly a hundred years (to see why, take a look at George Orwell's novel A Clergyman's Daughter!). Private schools in 'developed' countries, perhaps with a few exceptions, cannot teach 'murder and mayhem' or 'bacci ball' and expect to recieve the same accreditation as public schools. Standards are imposed by the state to, at least theoretically, suit the social context in which the recipients of education are living. Hugo Chavez simply is altering the curriculum for precisely the same reasons Americans do not restrict women to home economics and men to shop class anymore or racially segregate their public education (although I understand Southwestern Baptist Seminary, a university under different regulations than public schools, is bucking this trend with regard to the former example).

Opponents of Chavez in the media usually fall into two camps. Those who know precisely what Chavez is trying to do and are worried that his success might spread to their own countries and threaten their elite privilged position, and those completely unaware of larger historical struggles who, jumping on the bandwagon of this former camp, feed off their rhetoric. It is amazing to me how much effort and toil goes into defending this privilege, when half of that effort is probably enough to yield benefits for all but the most privileged pretty comparable to what they get today. But I guess that's just the irrationality of the capitalist logic that we in the west like to infuse into our 'rational' education system.

The Road to Serfdom is a Good Book

2007-09-18T11:57:00.001-07:00

There, I said it. Likely all who stop reading this post at the title, and who have done the same with Hayek's book will be appalled, and will proceed to lambast me somewhere (oh wait, I'm not that important!). But it's something that needs to be said, though perhaps not for the reasons that one usually praises a book for. Many on the left know the frustration of having certain author's taken out of context by their ideological opponents, whether it be Marx or Chomsky, two very common candidates. Hayek is an equal candidate, and like Marx, he is misunderstood and misinterpreted by both the left and the right. And especially since it is those who have championed the actual implementation of neoliberalism and claim Hayek as their ideological founder that obscure his - at least as stated - positions, and thus wrap themselves in yet another shawl of false legitimacy, it is especially frustrating. But I digress. Why then is The Road to Serfdom a good book?
Mainly, or at least from my uninformed position, because it actually presents serious challenges to the positions of socialists of varying stripes. In short, it forces one, unless they choose not to read the book or uncritically shrug Hayek's arguments off, to actually ponder and critically analyze the positions that they hold. The basic argument, that certain aspects of state planning produce the propensity towards greater power concentrations ('totalitarianism', as he puts it), though not a truism, is certainly borne out in historical practice. Thus, for proponents of national state socialism, Hayek provides the perfect springboard for critically approaching the practical dilemmas of coordination, decision-making, power distribution and adjudication. Indeed, those radical democrats who decry technocratic rulership that, at least currently, goes hand in hand with national centralization will share at least one common point with Hayek. For the growing number that views the national state with the same distrust as capital, be they liberal anarchists, social libertarians, left communitarians or any of the myriad political distinctions out there, Hayek's book is largely dated. Almost all of Hayek's arguments assume the national state, which is increasingly being contested in the scholarly community - but there is still value in reading this book as a way of further contextualizing their positions within a long strand of intellectual history.
But of course, The Road to Serfdom is not without its flaws. Hayek's use of rhetoric is conniving and distracts from his actual message, which he explicitly states is his intention. As an example, Hayek crudley equates "fascism" (which is almost never used in the book) with "socialism". This is clearly an attempt to reframe the word to include the negativity of Britain's Nazi enemies without regard to the qualitative differences between the two terms. It would be like claiming that 'anarchism', in the pejorative sense, is liberalism, in the Hayekian sense. Chapter 12 seeks to trace "The Socialist Roots of Naziism", an endeavor with about as much validity as tracing the roots of British slavery to the rediscovery of Aristotle during the Renaissance. These two factors are clearly correlated, and indeed, many proponents of slavery did rely on the classic texts, but they are clearly not causally linked in any rigorous way. Hayek's spuriousness and imprecision in making this argument leaves him open to ridicule, such as that German democracy sprang from Naziism - after all, Hayek says himself that the Nazi's viewed themselves as practicing the 'true democracy'.
But for me at least, these flaws are balanced by the intellectual honesty that Hayek displays in the first paragraph of the preface to his original book. He states, "This is a political book.[...] But, whatever the name, the essential point remains that all I shall have to say is derived from certain ultimate values. I hope I have adequately discharged in the book itself a second and no less important duty: to make it clear beyond doubt what these ultimate values are and on which the whole argument depends" (xlv, 1994 ed.). We may, and should, criticize those "ultimate" values for being utopian, selfish, insufficient, inefficient and irrational, almost all of which Hayek has a counter-argument for that will spark important debates, but we must also commend him for not hiding behind "scientific fact" or determinism, and (not entirely) relying on reductive and static conceptions of human nature, unlike his future 'disciples'.
For me, the most fundamental fallacy Hayek makes is to equate the decentralization of power in society with the automatic propensity for competition (214). We have the historical 'advantage' of living through what Peck and Tickell call 'roll-out neoliberalism', where Schumpeterian creative destruction reigns free (ironically still carefully regulated of course), and can see that competition is only a classificatory means of changing who will hold power, rather than a progressive end, or even a sustainable process. Those who have subverted Hayek's proscriptions in chapter 14, those unlucky recipients of neoliberal policy, have only redecorated for a new era of monopoly capitalism.
Avoiding The Road to Serfdom is an easy thing to do, if we choose to hole away in hospitable intellectual enclaves, but we do so at our peril, while those who manipulate Hayek's ideas work to advance the interests of those whom he condemns (namely monopoloy capitalists, or just about all of them!). And for those who think that reading this book is unnecessary due to its antiquated publication date, it's not, at least not to the uninitiated like myself. Just as Karl Polanyi's The Great Transformation has garnered so much attention in recent years (an absolutely perfect complement and critique to Hayek, written in the same year by yet another Austrian - perhaps the subject of another post), The Road to Serfdom is still highly relevant for those engaged in the critique of contemporary North American society. I encourage everyone who is interested in the values underpinning socialism, and critical thought, to actually read this book - it will make criticizing Thatcher and Reagan a little easier!

Left Politics Alive in Mainstream Popular Culture

2007-06-26T21:27:00.001-07:00

After a short respite, I'm back - and hope to post with a little more frequency than in the last month. I just finished watching Charlie Rose's show on PBS, and tonight he had on Adam Moss, the editor of New York Magazine. I'm neither a reader of the magazine, nor a big fan of Charlie Rose, generally speaking, but today I was pleasantly surprised. When asked what Moss would like to cover if he were free from commercial constraints, his response, after an anxious ten seconds, was 'the underclass'. Alone, that doesn't sound like alot, but coupled with references to an interest in 'sociology' and a disdain for 'shopping', along with many other euphemisms for left politics, it was clear to me that a kind of critical, though disquieted conversation attacking 'mainstream' culture and politics was occuring on my (!) television screen.
I suppose that I shouldn't be particularly surprised. After all, I was watching PBS, and they DO broadcast good programming now and then. Even their technology shows (excepting NOVA, which I deem pretty decent) can be tolerated for their informational content. Still, after a whole month of CNN, BNN, and ridiculous middle class justification of privilege, what I saw on TV was refreshing, calming (necessary for all the stomach-rumbling that cable news causes), and, dare I say, inspiring? It's nice to know now and then, when it feels like you are trapped like a beaver by an entire culture of furriers, that you have allies, despite the specific allegiance they may proclaim.
So to all allies in cyberspace - the best hope for the redemocratization of media that those in Canada and the U.S currently have - please post and share your thoughts. And to all critics (and outright enemies), a good debate is always worth having. Cheers.

Two Books on Politics in Brazil

2007-05-16T12:47:00.000-07:00

I've just finished two books whose topics dovetail considerably, and I thought I would offer some comments on them to any considering reading them. The first is Brazilian Politics by Alfred P. Montero; the second, Lula and the Workers Party in Brazil by Sue Branford and Bernardo Kucinski.
Montero writes and organizes Brazilian Politics like an introductory textbook, and while the text does employ a few advanced concepts of comparative politics, for the most part, it is one. Overarching the text is Montero's theme of "democracy without....", which he develops in chapters about the political structure, electoral system, economic inequality, civil society and foreign policy. Chapter two is a shoddy historical overview from the colonial period to the present, which doesn't amount to much more than 20 pages, while an introductory and concluding chapter about Lula and the future of Brazilian democracy sandwich the text together.
To be quite blunt, Montero adopts the liberal-lite position which supports and reinforces the capitalist system while calling for some dampening of its gravest inequalities (after all, Brazil is one of, if not the most inegalitarian country in the world). As a result he measures the state of Brazilian democracy (and even uses the imperialist term 'democratic consolidation' a number of times) against the extent to which it has institutionalized the liberal democratic political form. This approach is all too common in comparative politics, which, even if not imposing a specifically U.S.-style teleology, almost always insists that stability [for capital accumulation] is a necessary condition for admittance in the "advanced" club of nations. To be fair, Montero does do a good job of synthesizing some of the main currents in the realm of Brazilian politics in a single (and fairly compact at ~150pgs) document, but his over-reliance on a few particular sources for the bulk of the book (namely Scott Mainwaring) brings this synthesis into question. If there is any real strength in Brazilian Politics, it is Montero's ability to take a variety of diverse streams (economic indicators, foreign policy issues, and concepts in comparative politics) and integrate them into a consistent, and fairly accessible, narrative that appears to be distinctly his. Even this, however, might not hold up under closer scrutiny.
Lula and the Workers Party in Brazil, on the other hand, is quite a different book. It too employs thematic chapters - an assessment of the first two years of the Lula administration, an overview of the rise of the Workers Party, a critique of the legacy of Fernando Henrique Cardoso, and an examination of the Participatory Budgeting experiment in Porto Alegre - but it does so in a way that brings out depth and substance. I've been pleasantly surprised with books by journalists on Latin America recently, mostly by their ability to get great interviews and primary sources and compile them in a single text, and this book adds to that surprise. Branford, a former BBC and Economist reporter, and Kucinsky, an advisor to Lula, gather fairly extensive interviews with party notables (including an exclusive with Lula himself) and synthesize them utilizing a 'critical postmodern' framework that both supports and critiques the Workers Party (see Boaventura dos Santos 1998 "Oppositional Postmodernism and Globalizations" Law and Social Inquiry 23:1). Unlike Montero, the two authors are able to expand on simple one-liners like "the workers party is the most disciplined party in Latin America" by combining evidence into an easy-to-read narrative. At times, the overall flow of the book appears disrupted and disjointed, especially since each chapter is credited as written by one of the two authors (with the final chapter on Porto Alegre written by Hilary Wainwright), but each chapter is more than capable of standing alone.
In terms of content, Lula and the Workers Party in Brazil spends a little too much time discussing peripheral topics to the Workers Party, choosing not to cover some important issues such as the future of party leadership, or expanding on topics only superficially addressed such as the party structure and regulatory framework or the experience of the party in more concrete examples (i.e.: particular municipalities, states). However, many of these issues are deftly side-stepped by pointing to other books. Perhaps the biggest fault of the text is the title, which I think claims too much. A little editing and creative thought might produce a more appropriately labelled package. Neverthless, the text deserves attention for those interested in an accessible and enjoyable treatment of the PT and issues relevant to its formation, existence and future navigation.
I would recommend both books, mostly because I believe in the importance of looking at a wide range of sources, left or right, good or bad. In a way, it was appropriate to read Montero's book first, since Branford and Kucinski's book worked to fill in alot of gaps and supplement unsupported statements with interesting quotes. Indeed, some of the research in Lula and the Workers Party in Brazil even presents some challenges to Montero's book by providing alternative evidence and explanation. Take a look at either, or both, and tell me what you think!

Burmese Days...

2007-05-08T14:35:00.000-07:00

George Orwell's novels are, to me, a nice complement to academic study. They are usually sufficiently engaging, while framing dense issues such as colonialism, political power, socialism and consumption in Orwell's characteristic accessible writing style. Burmese Days, a novel that examines the tense intersections of political ideology, gender, and racism within the colonial context of Burma circa 193? is not really an exception, however it is not really an exemplary either. The text starts out quite strong with a focused plot, drags outward parallelly and then abruptly reintegrates in the concluding few chapters, to form what I think of as a literary diamond. I suppose one could ask for little more from a text, some mystery and suspense, solid character development for the most part, fairly descriptive setting and a surprise ending to top it off. It is perhaps my straining for argumentative coherency that left me wanting a little more at the end.
Orwell treats the issue of the colonial experience from both colonizer and colonized points of view, if more heavily that of the former, and uses the medium of the novel to critique the colonial project. Throughout his text, he virulently condemns the binary segregation of 'native' and 'european', exemplified in the code of the pukka sahib. Orwell attacks the blatant racism of his historical context, (indeed at times expounding a cultural relativist position), but of course does so in a way that still appears racist to any contemporary reader. He argues, I think, above all, for a more direct and meaningful, if partially exoticized, interaction between residents within the Kyauktada district that the novel is set. Notably, he rejects nationalism and outright self-determination of the British colonies, presumably in favor of this more "humane" colonialism.
Like all Orientalists, Orwell attempts to create a narrative that is clearly more reflective of his own personal experiences - and tensions - than a sincere and thoughtful portrayal of Burma, without making it clear which point of view he is speaking from. Indeed, I think it is pretty evident that the main character, Flory, is meant to be a representation of Orwell himself [there is even a reference to 'shooting an elephant' in the text], and this ambivalent tension in Flory runs throughout the entire text.
Thus, because this text is so frought with contradictions, its reader is too. Is Burmese Days an outright rejection, a reformist tract, or a cautious apology for colonialism? Is it a rejection of racism, a half-hearted or incomplete rejection, or really just a qualitatively different way of perpetuating racism? Is it a critique of dominant European gender roles, or a patriarchal assertion of women's subordinate position? Most certainly, it is all of these, and textual references can be found to support all of these (and many more) positions which seem so contradictory. Orwell himself, as a cultural product of British Imperialism, reflects these tensions in the writing of Burmese Days. Indeed, while this book is still well-written, these tensions extend themselves out even to the writing style, making Burmese Days an interesting, if uneven, novel to read.

On Anarcho-Syndicalism: Theory and Practice

2007-05-04T17:56:00.000-07:00

I've recently had the pleasure of reading Rudolf Rocker's "masterpiece", outlining the theory and contextually specific practical application of Anarcho-Syndicalism. Having an avid interest in anarchist theory, this text has long-awaited my attention. And while I generally enjoyed it, reading Rocker's dated text, I noticed some sharp division between his thought and my own.
First, Rocker employs functionalist language and thought quite consciously and overtly, even going so far as to expound a sustained version of the classic human body analogy. My own perspective would prevent my assuming essentialized functions for social institutions in favor of the dynamic and endless possibilities of political 'negotiation'. Thus, while Rocker asserts that the state can never have a role in alleviating non-state induced forms of domination and oppression - owing to the fact that this would overstep its naturalized function - I would contend that the state can challenge forms of societal domination and act in the interests of broader cross-section of citizens, even if its history has shown fairly clearly that it is rare that it does. Thus, the Keynesian welfare state, even while it primarily favored white male workers, could conceivably have worked to smooth the sharply unequal power relations structuring people's material living conditions and ideal identities, just as the "dictatorship of the proletariat" might have made the transition from 'actually existing socialism' to a more idealized, and hitherto unrealized, form.
Still, one must concede that the impetus for Rocker's rhetorical strategy is undoubtedly the pervasion of Darwinism in public discourse in the 20s and 30s, when he was forming his arguments. Thus, that Anarcho-Syndicalism as Rocker portrays it is in direct opposition to Social Darwinism, even while it relies on Darwinistic ideas, must be qualified with the recognition that this is actually a clever rhetorical strategy aimed at appealing to a broad public readership.
Where I disagree with Rocker secondly is on his contradictory rejection of 'society' as a relevant, important - and power-laden - unifying force in the human experience. I say contradictory, for Rocker explicitly rejects social power alongside the political and economic, even while he champions the cooperative social relations of syndicalist organization. Rocker's use of 'libertarian', at times with an ambiguous meaning, but especially prevalent in the epilogue available in the second edition, appears to stress the individual in contrast to the social setting, rather than in relation to it. Just as an idea does not exist out of context, individuals do not exist outside their social setting, and it would be futile and dangerous to hope for the ultimate "individualization" of humanity (our generation has the advantage of hindsight and the experience of neoliberalism to elucidate this!). Still, this reader does sense in the general feeling of the text a different understanding of the social, and perhaps the confusion rests in careless writing, rather than consciously determined implied meaning. What I take from Rocker's overall message is that the social relations of our current statist/capitalist order, influenced by and interacting with the associated political and economic relations must be altered, and not social relations and social power inherently. As an example, Rocker devotes ample time to portraying the experience of the Spanish Anarcho-Syndicalists in Catalonia who he claims had developed genuinely distinct (if not necessarily new) forms of social organization, and cultural practices that he deeply approves of.
Lastly, Rocker problematically declares that all power is inherently and only repressive. This more than anything leaves him open to the criticism of being Utopian that he so sorely rejects. Still, one can forgive this slippage as being heavily influenced by Nietzsche and Weber, and not having the privilege of the insights of Foucault who would come some 40 years later. Again, this statement must be closely considered alongside his treatment of the Spanish case to see that there are minor contradictions within his theorizing.
Overall, Anarcho-Syndicalism is a good read for those interested in the basics of the theory, even though the practical aspects could be (and probably have been) updated by contemporary authors to reflect the current political economic conditions of our context (say, e.g.: late capitalism). This is something that is aptly noted in the introduction to the most recent edition by AK Press. So long as capitalism persists along with its symbiote the nation-state, Rocker's analysis will remain relevant for those interested in critically engaging with their surroundings.

The Absence of the French Election in the North American Anglo Media

2007-04-22T15:42:00.000-07:00

I find it very interesting that so little attention has been devoted to the French election on major english-speaking television stations in North America. Not knowing much about French politics, I've recently been interested in learning about the candidates, the context and the stakes of France's recent Presidential election (the first round results are just in now, and there will be a runoff between right-wing Sarkozy [~30%] and left-center Royal [~25%]). Elections are usually a fairly hot topic, but aside from french-language TV5, I found that few stations gave any coverage to the election in the lead-up to it, and now that the results are in, even less time to reporting the preliminaries. The print media, over time, has noted the importance of this election as "usher[ing] in a new generation of politicl leaders" (Reuters), and indeed initial estimates place the voter turnout at around 84%, one of the highest in half a century. Thus, it is not for lack of significance that coverage is so limited.
One might shrug off this TV snub as just bad timing: the VT massacre still dominates the American press, the Nigerian election has more "shock" value that falls in line with the television format, Earth Day has global appeal, etc. Somehow, I'm tempted to think otherwise.
It's well-known that France is treated with contempt by the Anglo press - beyond the obvious language difference, viewed as hostile to the obssession with linguistic supremacy of many English-speaking countries, their distinct brand of corporatism is dangerous to the liberal traditions of most English-speaking countries. Even in Canada, which supposedly bucks both of these trends, almost no english coverage on the election has been available. It is symbolic, though certainly (hopefully) coincidental, that CBC: Our World did an hour-long look at the cult of James Bond, exploring the linkages between British and North America reactions to Flemming's books and movies (CBC Newsworld, 6-7pm EST) even while analysts in France worked to untangle what these historic results mean for the future of a major force in the European Union, the world economy, and global governance. Doubtless the French election, whatever the final outcome, will have important consequences for Canada and the United States.
Although the prospects of left nationalism (Royal) is an improvement to right-nationalism (Sarkozy), to me it is only a marginal improvement. It is unclear to what extent Royal, if elected, will live up to her socialist credentials. As an admirer of Tony Blair earlier in her career, I have no clue on which "road" or "way" she ultimately will attempt to take France. Yet "Parti Socialiste", despite the uncertaintly of how that title will translate into policy, undoubtedly raises too many eyebrows for the media-capital-state fusion working hard at the ol' "smash and grab".
Not to say, of course, that the same is not happening in France. Still, a country in which nearly 10% of the 2002 vote went to self-described Trotskyists, and where nearly 5% of the vote this time around went to the "Revolutionary Communist League", is one that is perhaps a little too controversial for North America, where the active elite political project of making an alternative to capitalism unthinkable operates in perpetual and full force. After all, so the saying goes, any publicity is good publicity.

-Matt

"Deja Vu" - The Ultimate Sacrifice

2007-04-20T21:53:00.000-07:00

As a prelude to what I hope are many posts to come, I thought I would start with a comment on what is cinematographically a less than stellar film, and conceptually, a detestable one - "Deja Vu". While I'll do my best to avoid spoiling the plot without being too vague, I can't make any promises. Consider yourself warned!

My immediate reaction to this film was, as should be expected, skepticism. Clearly, the film is smugly contrived, albeit with a great intro sequence and a healthy dose of music throughout to hold the viewer, and this is evident within the first 15 minutes. But to what end is the movie directed?

On one hand, the movie ambitiously aims at a revision of the technological capabilities of the American intelligence community, and attempts to "shock and awe" viewers with an irrelevant showing of air, land and sea machinery. In the process, it earns a thought or two regarding the logic behind its science (of which I certainly am not capable of commenting on, though I'm sure is naively incoherent). Yet, much more darkly, Deja Vu seeks to pry public opinion away from criticism and towards subjugation to the aims of that power-laden collective of nationhood, commonly recognized via those elusive first-person prounouns "We, Us, and Our".

The film opens with obvious references to Hurricane Katrina, easily discernible to an American audience as an emblem of failed commitment and incomplete sacrifice on the part of government officials on a variety of geographic scales. For some thirty minutes, it builds up the character of Doug Carlin, a sharp and capable ATF agent with no familial, and no clear organizational (read: bureaucratic) ties. Indeed, the Hero must break protocol in order to maximize his effectiveness as a 'saviour of life'. However, despite the apparent contradictions at first glance, the deeper narrative unfolds quickly thereafter, priming the audience for the grand enterprise of nationalism.

Throughout the film, insignias of the state are deliberately placed in clear view - a yellow ribbon on the back of a car here (1:10:43), a "Support Our Troops" sticker during a raid there (1:15:18). Yet the government, or the bureaucratic process, is criticized as inflexible, uncaring and ineffective (1:20:00-1:20:30). Deja Vu has all the hallmarks of a classic Hollywood film - libertarian in spirit, brutually conformist in articulation, which is carefully plotted within the dialogue of the film. At one point, the antagonist - an enigmatic figure of freedom/terrorism declares that "sometimes a little human collateral is the cost of freedom". This sentiment is echoed in the well-known proverb "one man's terrorist is another man's patriot" that appears in the film shortly after (1:17:30). These two statements, in the context that the film frames them in, work to justify and support American intervention in Iraq and encourage (if not manipulate) viewers to do the same.

A recurrent theme in the latter half of the movie, and emphasized a second time in a question at the end of the movie certainly resonated with me - that is, after all I had seen: "What if you had to tell someone the most important thing in the world, but you know they'd never believe you" (1:57:30). The state, even if the government is off-base, is never wrong - it just appears that way to a demanding and ungrateful populace. Trust your institutions (and really, implicitly, your leaders). It is fitting that at one point, while the media reports a story noting a demand for increased expenditures for the war (at least that's what it appears to be), one character mutes the TV and instead prays to god for "a great day" (41:55).

Of course, the core message of the film, enunciated throughout the thread of the plot rings clear - 'We [the state] watch you - in the shower even - but its ok, we'll save you in the end'. Support the troops, avoid criticizing the government if possible, certainly refrain from criticizing the state. Above all, submit yourself to Safety, which only the state can provide.

Deja Vu tries hard to mask itself in a whirlwind of confusion, meant to raise questions but shroud straight answers in subtle (and not so subtle) displays of nationalism, militarism and social control. It suceeds by walking that fine line between borderline overtness and half-clever craftiness. Conceivably, watching this movie without a critical eye could lead to a semi-pleasant encounter in mind-numbing sensationalism - although the seed of submission to the nation-state will undoubtedly be laid.

There is alot to get out of this movie, and I encourage feedback, discussion and criticism, as well as an awakening to the many points that I've missed. Though, of course, not too much of all of these - but not on the account of my ego. Put simply, the movie doesn't deserve it.

http://video.movies.go.com/dejavu/

-Matt