An Open Letter to the City of Ottawa

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

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

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

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

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

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

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?

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

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

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

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

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

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...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.