Same difference

If there is anything I love about this life and this world, it's the diversity. Really. It can't be colorful enough, diverse enough, multi-culti enough for me.

Here we are, all of us, on one small planet, somewhere in the middle of a rather small solar system, somewhere at the edge of a galaxy, in the endless vastness of space. The universe is huge and we've got pea brains. How is that supposed to work? Still, those pea brains produce enough whatever to allow us to go to the moon, cure some diseases, think about weird stuff, and also pollute the planet, destroy the atmosphere and bring ourselves to the brink of destruction. Tell me why that is, in and of itself, not worth contemplating?

In all of my musings, of course, I keep coming back to one point: even though we're all so different -- actually unique as individuals -- there is so much about us that is still the same: our feelings, our sorrows, joy, pain, desires, wishes, hopes, and aspirations. We'd all, it appears, like to live a decent life (whatever that means) and not have to worry as much as we do about as many things as we do. I get the feeling that we'd all just like to know that our children are doing OK, that they are healthy and (at least sometimes) happy, that they have enough to eat and, when the situation calls for it, can celebrate and be happy about births and marriages and birthdays and whatever else is reason for joy.

OK, I'll admit it, I haven't been everywhere. But, wherever I've been, this is what I have seen and felt that people want. From all the TV shows, documentaries and travelogues that I have read, I get the impression that this is what most people want. I'm beginning to think -- though admittedly all evidence is not yet in -- that this is somehow a feature of the human condition. I really don't know what the difference is between me, a Wall Street banker, a worker in a German factory, a French civil servant, a peasant in China or an Aborigine in Australia. Oh, our circumstances are very, very different, but how we all feel about the world around us ... well, I can't really see how different it is. We feel the same joy and pain, we suffer from the same diseases ... where is the fundamental, existential difference? I just don't see it.

On the outside, we're very different: our hair, eyes, skin, stature, build ... you name it ... are very, very different. On the inside, our intelligence, our attitude, our self-understanding, our face-to-the-world ... if you know what I mean ... are very different as well. But deep down ... and I mean really deep down, at the core of our being, at that space-time that defines us as being "human" ... well, I'm not sure there's all that much difference at all. I haven't been able to locate that difference, but I've sought far and wide. I've tried to find it in every person I have ever met. But, as it turns out, the more I look, the more I find out that in the most important, essential and deepest ways, there just isn't a lot of difference between Mike and Jane and Michele and Rolf and Dimitry and Joanna, and Jose and Qiang and Kwame and ... well, you get the point.

It takes a while before you realize that we're really not all that different from one another. And it takes a little longer to realize that we're all more alike that different. But once you do, I can assure you, the world becomes a simpler place, and as a result, it becomes a better, more livable place as well.

Now back to our regularly scheduled program

The world goes on, regardless of our involvement. The path it takes in its "going", well, we do have something of a say in that.

It would appear that over the past couple of posts, I've digressed, gotten off the beaten path, if you will, taken an unexpected turn (and you'll note that all of these phrases are, yes, metaphors), but that's not the case at all. Truth be told, I've simply continued with what I was saying, but tried to relate it to the real world in which (at least) most of us believe we find ourselves. If we only knew. Yes, if we only really knew where and when we are.

Let's face it, we haven't quite got this consciousness thing figured out yet. The materialists can't explain it, the metaphysicians are probably too enthusiastic about it. We only know what we know and that is what we experience, but somehow we suspect that that's not all there is. Even the most dyed-in-the-wool materialist knows that there is more in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in any of our philosophies (with apologies to William). Yes, my dear friend (or occasional reader, I can't know ... though it doesn't make a difference), we are a strange species. And that, more or less, is what the past few posts (and probably most of my posts) have been about.

We have trouble -- and by "we", I mean all of us -- with uncertainty. Our lives are full of it, but we wish they weren't. We'd love to know what is what, to not have to worry about every little thing, and to be able to get up every morning and face the day with renewed vigor and confidence. Of course, we're in a very privileged and exalted position: we don't have to worry about where our next drink of clean water comes from or our next bowl of rice, or if the radicals are going to show up with blood-lust and machetes, or if we have to sign up for Obamacare or not. No, we don't handle uncertainty very well, but just when was the world certain at all.

There is something that unites us all. It doesn't matter if you're a dirt farmer in deepest Africa, or a day laborer in China, or an executive on Wall Street, or a production worker at the Daimler plant in Stuttgart. What we all have in common is that we have absolutely, positively, definitely no idea why we're here.

Oh, we're here all right. We get up every morning. We go about our business. We do what we have to do, whatever it may be, but in the end, at night, before we go to sleep, we all have that moment when we ask ourselves, just what the hell am I doing here? Where did I come from? Why am I? The true believer asks him/herself this, as does the atheist, the agnostic, the materialist, and the forlorn and forgotten.

Oh, you can -- from your privileged position of so-called knowledge in alleged developed Western society -- think that you know. But, late at night, when the lights are out, when all is dark and quiet, you know that you simply have no idea why you are.

The wonder, the mystery, of life is that we just don't know. The comfort, the surety, of life is that we suspect (rightfully) that no other human being on this planet knows either. We're simply all in it together.

Aren't we so proud of ourselves

Today's a special day, of sorts. No, it's not a holiday, and in these parts nobody is celebrating, I can assure you. For better or for worse, most younger folks don't even know that it is a day worth remembering. No, it's not National Fluffy Bunny Day nor some celebrity's birthday, it's what was once known in the US as VE Day (that is, Victory in Europe Day). It was on this day, 69 years ago that Nazi Germany surrendered to the Allies ending World War II in Europe. (It's good to remember when wars are ended. It's too bad that they have to start in the first place.)

As with most commemorations of this sort, it's all done for the wrong reasons. We like to celebrate victories (if that's what they are) even if these victories are pyrrhic (and if you don't know what I just said, look it up). Don't get me wrong, it's good that the Nazis were stopped. What I'm troubled by is that we didn't stop them before they got started.

We love to blame the Germans. Really. The Nazis, the Holocaust ... their militarism in the First World War ... yes, there are lots of reasons to look down on them. Sure, we have a bit of a problem with the fact that they are now successful (in relative terms), build great cars, love the environment and solar energy and nature, but when push comes to shove, we can always pull out the "Nazi" card. We certainly don't want anybody getting uppity.

To be perfectly honest, I'd have less of a problem with all of this, if we non-Germans weren't so holier-than-thou about it all. Really. Many, many Americans loved Hitler and sympathized with the Nazis. Even today, as recent events have shown, anti-Semitism and hatred of the Jews is still a motivating force; the Bush family got wealthy catering to the Nazis banking-wise; the world tolerated them right up until the war; how many people even today would welcome a strong leader (Führer) to take charge and protect them from their own freedom? In the center of it all, of course, are the Jews, but who among us knows the difference between the ethnic group, the adherents to a particular religion, and the State of Israel, three very different, very distinct entities? No, we'd rather lump and stomp. It's all so much easier that way.

Yes, we like to think that "it couldn't happen here", that what happened in Nazi Germany was a "German thing". Unfortunately, it's not, it was a human thing. People who are downtrodden look for strong leaders. People who feel betrayed, look for a savior. People who feel they have nothing left to lose look to someone else to get them out of their misery. And, the easiest way to do that, of course, is to appeal to humanity's most base instincts: I have got to be better than somebody (anybody) else.

It was not a flaw in the German culture or character that allowed Hitler to come to power. The very same overarching, being-suppressed-but-feeling-superior, isolated and lonely feeling is more than present in Americans today. When someone can demonstrate to me the difference between "We're #1" and the Master Race, between "My country right or wrong" and "Deutschland über alles", between the imperialism the US demonstrates to the world and that which the Nazis failed to achieve ... well, then, I suppose, I'll think about this all a bit differently. Until then, however, I'll just note the day with a sense of bitter-sweet humor.

It can happen anywhere ... and some places more probably than others. And the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Hey, it's just a figure of speech

Yeah, that's what we'd like to think, but that's not the way it is.

The theory that describes this close relationship between speech and thought is called the "Whorfian Hypothesis", after the cultural-linguist Benjamin Whorf who first proposed it. Like anything else in academia, it isn't uncontested, but even if it isn't precisely accurate, it is generally a good description of how things are. Anyone who has ever learned a foreign language knows there are certain ideas or notions or concepts or, well, just simply words that are untranslatable. These folks also know that there are somethings, that even if they are similar in meaning are said in very different ways.

For example, the Germans have a word (one of my favorites, by the way), hinterfragen which is untranslatable. Literally it mean "to question behind" (fragen = to question; hinter = behind). What is means is to be critical about something, to question the assumptions upon which a statement is made, to try to get to the bottom of the matter, to find out what is really going on. On the other hand, we English-speakers can be "cool as a cucumber", and I can assure you that calmness and cucumbers are not two ideas that the everyday German would bring together like that.

The point is that both of these notions: the questioning and the self-assuredness are being expressed in metaphorical terms. There is no "space" behind questions any more than cucumbers can be calm and self-composed. Again, these are metaphors that help us express what we want to say.

And this is the point: there are many more instances of these kinds of things in all languages than there are instances of literally saying what you mean. "Hinterfrager (those who tend to "question behind") are called doubting Thomases; "smart cookies" know a lot; almost universally we all "go through Hell" when things are bad and find ourselves "in Heaven" (sometimes numbered, e.g., 7th) when things go well. The more you look, the more you dig into the language -- any language -- the more figurative (for metaphors are but one figure of speech) it becomes. Language is, at heart, figurative, not literal.

So why do I care? Well, if how we speak reflects how we view the world, and if how we view the world is reflected in how we act, then an increasing number of commercial, business-related, impersonal metaphors would indicate that we are becoming more commercial, business-related and impersonal in our thinking. If our thinking becomes more commercial, business-related and impersonal, then it is only a matter of (very little) time until our actions become commercial, business-related and impersonal. That's not good for us as people, because, well, human beings are deep down neither commercial, nor business-bound nor impersonal. Human beings are in trouble when there are no other human beings around. Robinson Crusoe didn't lose it because Friday showed up. John Donne told us clearly that no (hu)man is an island unto himself. And this is why, in the end, prolonged solitary confinement is rightfully considered torture.

What we say matters, and how we say it matters even more. Listen to yourself. How are you engaging the world? What vocabulary, phraseology, and which figures of speech dominate your own communication with the world?

I can assure you that whoever is (truly) listening already knows.

The "bottom line"

... that ain't.

Language has always fascinated me. Oh, sure, it is amazing to learn another one and get a true, inside look at the ways of thinking of different language community and culture, but it is also breathtakingly wondrous to take a step back and look at one's own language with fresh eyes.

The title today is an everyday, common, often-used phrase, to be sure. "The bottom line": what it all really comes down to, the heart of the matter, whatever it is that makes the difference; the bottom line.

While we English-speakers all immediately understand it, a lot of us really don't know where the phrase comes from. This one comes right out of business. The phrase is a simple, direct reference to the balance sheet: you look at what you took in, you look at what you had to spend to get it, and what's left over is profit, it's the last thing on the balance sheet, it's the bottom line.

Now, for those of you not schooled in the intricacies of business theory, this is what is generally known as "net profit". Profit is -- and most people don't know this -- just like temperature: it's of one bolt of cloth; it may be positive and it may be negative, and so it is with profit as well. (Negative profit is generally referred to a "loss", but that's another story.) Yes, the bottom line in the actual, real, factual, calculated what's-left-over-after-all-is-said-and-done; it's, well, the bottom line.

Of course, none of this is particularly special, is it. After all, it's just a phrase, we all use it, and now, we all know where it come from, but so what? To me, we now come to the interesting part. This is a phrase from business, commerce, from the economic sphere. It doesn't have to do with people, emotions, personalities, feelings, justice, correctness, morality, or any other of those fuzzy, hard-to-identify-and-agree-on notions folks are always throwing around. No, the bottom line is the razor-sharp, intricately calculated what-it-is. We take a cold, impersonal, calculated concept, and apply it willy-nilly to just about any situation we can think of. We use it in our daily affairs, in our marriages, our relationships to kin, with our friends, enemies, partners and competitors. We're not really talking about "profit", we use it to mean what is, in the end, important enough to take special note of. This way of using words (for those of you who were asleep in English (or any other native-language) class, is what we call a metaphor: we use a word to mean something other than what it actually means because it makes the point better than whatever other word we were thinking of using.

What I find so interesting about this is that we -- especially in the English-speaking world -- are using an increasing number of such metaphors (that is, those coming from the business, commerce, economic sphere) in our everyday speech. We've not only commercialized our society, we're doing it to our language as well. This is not a comforting development.

While all language use is, ultimately, metaphorical, it might be a good idea to take stock of where we're getting our metaphors from. There's a too-close relationship between how we think, how we speak, and how we act.

A word about saving

"To save" is one of those wonderful English verbs that can get our minds churning in different directions. It lends itself to ambiguity, double-entendre, and even punning. It's worth thinking about words from time to time.

We can "save" our money; that is, we can put it somewhere (under the mattress, buried in a coffee can in the back yard, in a bank ... all of which yield about the same rate of interest) so that we have it later. We can save our dessert at dinner and eat it later. Saving, in this sense, has to do with keeping something for later use.

We can also "save" a drowning man, or block a field goal and "save" our team from defeat. In other words, saving, in this sense, has to do with rescuing someone or something, preventing it from being destroyed, preserving it in some way. There is an overlap, of course, with our money (or desert) example: spending our money or eating our dessert now means we have destroyed it (perhaps in a very good cause) and not preserved it.

However, "save" can also be used in the sense of "redemption". It is said that Jesus saves, that we can be saved from our sins. Granted, this has an aspect of preservation as well. For the Christian, his or her soul remains unharmed, will a lost soul will be tortured for eternity. (After all, what choices does a Loving God have for those who insist on disobeying?)

The thoughts I have been expressing for the last couple of posts fall naturally into the second category above: keeping things from being destroyed. When considered seriously, we see that my last posted question: "What's worth saving?" pretty much answered itself: not a whole lot. Our money is broken; our financial system is broken; our economic system is broken; our society is broken; our communities are broken. Our relationships are as run down as is our infrastructure. So, when I start wondering about what is worth saving, well, the answer is rather obvious: not much at all. I don't know about you, but when I find broken things lying around, I tend to throw them away. Our consumer goods are generally not worth fixing, and we've taken this wonderfully wasteful model and applied it the rest of our lives as well.

Our political, economic, and social structures are in such a state that we certainly don't want to bury them on a desert island like so much treasure. They've pretty well lost their value. What is a political system worth when the individual has nothing to say? What is an economy worth when only a tiny percentage benefits from it? What is a society worth when its is based on fear and loathing of "others"? They are in such disrepair that we can't prevent them from being destroyed. We've already destroyed them, which is why they are no longer the treasures that we once thought they were. And Lord knows, we can't keep them from going to Hell. In fact, for a growing number of people, they have become Hell itself.

Whatever we do decide to do is going to demand of us courage. We've pretty much got to start over and that means from a state of maximum uncertainty. I'm not sure how good we are at that anymore.

Do we have any idea?

Right, wrong, or indifferent, this is a unique time of year, and it has been for longer than any of us can remember. That we moderns have perverted it into some hedonistic festival of waste and debauchery, of egotism run wild and false expectations, is, I suppose, in some ways just a natural progression of things. Things don't always change for the better when we humans are involved.

We've turned it all on its head: everyone who ever celebrated anything at this time of year - except for us, of course - did so with a certain reverence for things greater than themselves. Since we are defined by our man-made toys and gadgets, we have lost this sense of "something greater" and have degenerated into über-consumers who can't get enough fast enough, shiny enough, twinkly enough, expensive enough. And yet - and here I have divorce, mental-illness, and crime rates to back me up - we are some damn unhappy people. Like any other junkie, our consumer fix will fade fast and we'll be seeking another kick before all too long.

Now, before the more religiously inclined of you get up on your high horses and tell me you're the only ones who have figured it out and haven't succumbed to the holiday, consumer madness surrounding us, I just want you all to know that I don't believe a word of it. You may be bothered to no end that there are insensitive people who don't want to hear anyone say Merry Christmas any more, but you only need to look at the clips of Walmartians on Black Friday to know that whomever this holiday is supposed to be about or because of has absolutely nothing in common with what's going on there. How soon we forgot that he was the one who drove the money changers out of the temple, not the one who invited them in.

But that's just part of the story, of course, those ireful actions were the consequence of a long frustrating narrative, and one that still hasn't sunk in. I mean, you have to give the story credit: it's persistent. It's hung on in spite of centuries of efforts to suppress it. But, it is also clear to me that we have lost sight of that narrative in meaningful terms. OK, roughly a third of the world's population call themselves Christian (though Lord only knows how many actually act like one), and the figure of Jesus inspired even non-believers like Gandhi. It would seem that it should be a powerful narrative, but do we even know what it is anymore?

I would suggest we don't. More abuse, suffering and death have been caused in the name of that poor guy than even he would be able to stand, I think. Just what was he trying to tell us? What is the story really about? I'd like to know, so it seems the perfect time of year to submerge beneath the glare and glitter, the theological smoke and mirrors and just take a look at why this narrative is all but forgotten today.

And now?

Another way of asking would be: So what?

As I read it, the story is telling us most definitely that we do in fact have Free Will, that is the ability to choose, to defy, to say no, regardless of the consequences. When you consider how Adam & Eve were before they ate the fruit with how they are afterwards, there is a difference like night and day. Instead of the obliviously innocent, blithely ignorant creatures who passed their time in the Garden, we now have two mature human beings who have to go out and face the world ... just as the rest of us do every day ourselves. To my mind, their act of "defiance" was their initiation into humanity. It's who we are, and sometimes who we need to be. We are sometimes simply required to choose.

Life requires choices. Sometimes the consequences are unpleasant, sometimes dire, sometimes more wonderful than we can imagine, but we don't know unless we find the courage to choose. There are more than enough individuals in this world who are more than willing to let you know that it is anything but worthwhile to make your own decisions. Those are the petty tyrants, the wannabe authorities, the annoying instances of power who think they are masters of all they see. Well, they are ... if we allow them to be. It is well worth remembering that no other human being has real power over you unless you give that person the power.

If their threats are more than you are willing to endure, they have power. If you don't accept that, you are nevertheless free. If you are willing to give up your freedom because you fear the consequences, then you have to ask yourself whether the life you have chosen is really worth living. The moral of the story we have been considering is that saying no is not without its consequences, to be sure, but how much are you willing to sacrifice to be free?

Oh yes, the all the platitudes in this case are oddly enough true. There is no freedom without sacrifice, but the real question is what are you willing to wager in exchange? It's a tough question that demands a tough answer. When I look around, I can't say that I'm encouraged that there are very many who are really willing to make much of a sacrifice at all. You have to ask yourself nevertheless: what is freedom worth to you?

Should we duck for cover?

Stated in simplest terms, the story of Adam & Eve in the Garden of Eden tells us that decisions have consequences. In other words, we're responsible for the consequences that result from the decisions we make. The important point, though, at least to my mind, is not the consequences, rather, we are allowed to decide.

You will recall that Adam & Eve were forbidden to eat of the fruit of that particular tree under penalty of death. This is, for most people, the most drastic consequence of all. I don't know many of us who would blithely do something that we could believe would bring us certain death. Nevertheless, these two naïve and innocent humans did just that. Sure, we could say they were stupid. No one in their right mind would have made that choice, but that's arguing from now back to then. Regardless of who wrote the story, s/he chose for them to choose. The story tells us that we are allowed to choose, even if the consequences of our choices may be dire. Adam & Eve are, at least to me, the two bravest souls who have ever been described in literature. They just didn't defy some gangland boss or police officer or high-ranking military person or king or emperor or head-of-state. No, these two took it upon themselves to defy the ultimate Creator of the whole universe. Whether you believe in Him or not, in the context of the story, it is clear: you don't get any more powerful that this.

I'm sure there are those of you who are thinking, well the Serpent tempted them, he led them astray. But again, I say this is a false displacement of responsibility. If you look at the story closely, the Serpent didn't lie: though the penalty of death stood over their action, he told them they wouldn't die, and he was right. It's not just a matter of whom you choose to believe. The Serpent could have been wrong. No, in the end, Adam & Eve chose. Adam & Eve were responsible for their actions, and it was them who took this responsibility upon themselves.

To me, that took a lot of guts. It's not everybody who is willing, or able, to make a decision like that. Saying "no", defying authority, is an act of courage. And regardless of what you may think about the One exercising His authority, he could have done away with them, but He didn't. What's more, I can't help but think that He was just a little bit proud of his creations in the end. Anyone who is a parent has been in a similar, but certainly less existentially significant situation. There is also a satisfaction in seeing that your progeny will not just take anything thrown at them, even if it is from you.

The question quickly presents itself though: is there enough of this in the world right now (or was there ever)? Have we learned the lesson ourselves?

Just a story?

The last thing I'm trying to do is instigate a theological debate. Stories like the one of the "Fall" can be used theologically, but they don't have to be. The stories, whether we like it or not, are part of our heritage and tradition, so simply ignoring them isn't wise either.

There are two issues involved here: one is purely theological, the other can be, but doesn't have to be. The former is, of course, the notion of "sin" in general, "Original Sin" in particular. As Rhett Butler so eloquently formulated it in Gone With the Wind: frankly, I don't give a damn. If you're not a follower of the affected religion, then it probably doesn't matter to you either, and to me, that's not the important issue in the story. No, the other, not-necessarily-theological issue is more interesting to me: were Adam & Eve in a position to defy G-d; did they defy G-d; did they have the ability to say "no"? The issue addressed here is anything but a simple one, for what we are talking about, at bottom, is the notion of Free Will.

This has been a hotly debated topic in more fields than just theology for longer than any of us can remember. Biologists, zoologists, anthropologists, ethnologists, sociologists, psychologists, and other students of human nature have definitely put in more than their two-cents' worth over the years. I'm not sure there is a definitive answer to the question, but as I read the story, we do, and that is not without its consequences. Let me tell you what I mean.

For the purposes of our discussion, it is relevant whether G-d knows what they will do, how they will decide. We're not looking at the story of evidence of G-d's intentions or omniscience or omnipotence, rather we are only concerned with our two human participants and what they do. Well, we know what they do: they eat of the fruit, even though the One "in charge" forbade them to do so. In other words, even expressed mundanely, they disobeyed. To me, this is the most important point in the story. We (humans) have the capacity, the ability, the obligation (?) to sometimes say "no", to sometimes say, "I'm not going to do what I'm told". Granted, the One in charge seemingly comes down on our two no-sayers like a ton of bricks, but to me this only says that there are consequences to our saying "no". It doesn't mean they are necessarily negative, just don't be surprised if they are. Does this mean that the story is telling us "don't say no, or you're in for big trouble"? Personally, I don't think so, but that's an issue that will have to wait until next time.

And what happened here?

Saying "no", at least in the sense I've been talking about it lately, is, in a manner of speaking, an act of defiance. This change of register (that is, using bigger words to describe everyday things), increases the significance of the thought. The issue now becomes one of how willing are we to defy authority. How far are we willing to go? Is it really an issue at all? I think it is.

Our Western tradition has handed a story down to us that deals with the notion of "defiance". At least one of the three western religions has even made it one of the centerpieces of its doctrinal canon. I'm talking about the story of "the Fall", as it is sometimes known, and the doctrine that has been built upon it is that of "Original Sin".

For those of you who tend to avoid traditional literature, allow me to give you a quick recap of the story: G-d creates the universe and within it there is a special place called the Garden of Eden. This is literally paradise on earth. In this garden, he places man (Adam) and woman (Eve). He then tells them they can more or less do what they want and eat what they want, except – and this is the key point – the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, and this under penalty of death. All is well until an unnamed serpent appears and tells Eve who just happens to be in the vicinity that she really won't die if she eats of the fruit, so she does, and immediately turns around and gives it to Adam (who had to be near enough to hear everything) and he eats too. And that's when it happens ... bam! they realize they're naked, make themselves some makeshift clothes out of fig leaves, because, oddly enough, they're not dead.

OK, it's an abridged version, I'll grant you that, but the real question is: what happened here? Is this just another silly story? Is it some long-forgotten myth that was just a vain attempt to explain something that we humans didn't understand until we got smarter? What can be the possible value of a story like this one? And more: even if you are starting a religion, is this where you start? Did these two hapless souls defy G-d? Did they commit a sin?

I won't be able to answer all of these questions today, of course, but they really are worth thinking about. Regardless of how we feel about the use (or abuse) that has been made of the story, one valid point remains: it is one attempt we have made to explain to ourselves why we are as we are. And if for no other reason, it's worth thinking about. So think about it ... at least till next time.

What does it take?

Some of you may be a bit uneasy about changing the world at this point. It's very easy to do what's right when you don't feel under pressure, but bring up the "boss" and attitudes change quickly. I've seen it happen a thousand times. Now, I would be willing to bet that if I asked 100 of you how your relationship is to your boss, you'd tell me it was just fine. And I would also be willing to bet that in 90 of those cases, that would be a slight to significant distortion of the truth. Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm not accusing anyone of lying. I'm merely suggesting that they're just being human.

How many of you (and how many of the people you know) are willing to admit they are in a subservient relationship? I don't do it willingly, I can assure you, and I don't consider myself all that out of the ordinary. I've been in relationships – most often work relationships – in which the "other", whomever s/he might be, took more liberties with their "authority", let us say, than was their due. Some people get off on being the boss, but that still doesn't give anyone the right to become abusive ... not even a little bit.

This is not only true of work relationships, but it's true of family relationships as well. How many of your parents demanded that you talk back to them? How many demanded of you to challenge their doling out of punishments? How many expected you to question their authority? Hmmm, I don't see a lot of hands up right now. And no, I'm not suggesting that it need to go that far. What I am suggesting though that each of us, especially those of us who have children or grandchildren, lead our young ones to a healthy degree of self-assertion and self-confidence. This doesn't always – in fact, it rarely – means defiance. It simply means being able to, having the courage to say "no."

This is one of the first things that all of learn, but it is the one thing that most of take the longest to learn how to it right. It's an essential part of growing up, though. And, it's an essential part of adult life as well. If you never learn to say "no", you can end up the abused spouse. If you never learn to say "no", you end up being other people's doormat. If you never learn to say "no", you will, in one way or the other, simply end up somewhere you don't want to be. What is worse, it will somewhere you don't need to be either.

Without aggravation

So now that you're well into giving your speech so much more meaning, it's time for everyone else to get on board. Some of your conversation partners will simply adjust to your new register. The are more people than you think who are sensitive to and even unconsciously willing to adapt to their environment. Of course, there are also the die-hards, those who believe that the only way to drive a point home is to ram it down someone else's throat.

We all know someone like this, don't we? One tactic would be to simply ignore them. You know, go out of your way to not have to talk to them, or at least not any more than is absolutely necessary. As a tactic it may work, but as a strategy, it's pretty useless. You can't avoid everyone like this forever, so it's worth your while to start wearing them down. It's like the old German saying goes: dripping water can hollow out the stone. And that's the approach you have to take.

Oh, right ... that involves patience. Ooops. OK, I realize that patience is really not many of ours' long suits. That's something you have to work at. Remember, I said it was all very simple, but I did warn you it wouldn't be easy. After all, it's difficult enough trying to be aware of the types of words you're using, but to start working on others? Right. But, it's not too much to ask. While you're doing your part to lessen tension in the world, it doesn't hurt to simply remind others of what they are doing to the conversation by their own choice of words. Like everything else we're saying, this can be said as directly and as clearly as anything else, and it really doesn't matter who you're talking to. If you can't ask your boss, for example, to be a little less aggressive toward you, then I suggest you rethink your employment situation. I mean, is your job worth abuse? I know mine isn't and I have no idea why I should voluntarily submit to behavior I wouldn't accept in any other circumstance.

You see, part of this program entails simply becoming more aware of what you do and how you do it and also what others do and how they do that as well. If someone else speaks to you aggressively and you respond, you've already signaled that you felt spoken to. How often are people being verbally aggressive simply out of frustration? If you suspect that's the case, why not bring it up? If we're actually going to communicate with one another, I think we need to realize it's a two-way street, and everyone needs to take just enough time and make enough effort to recognize that.

Without exaggeration

For those of you who are still doubting, you need to take a serious look at -- or better, give a serious listen to -- what's being said to you. It doesn't matter if it's a conversation you overhear on the street, a friend, your spouse, a relative ... it really doesn't matter. Just listen to the words they're using and regardless of the position they've taken, you'll get a feeling for their attitude toward whatever it is they're talking about. We can be secretive about a lot of things, but it's hard being secretive about how we feel.

We may not be able to do a lot about other people's attitudes, I know, but we can do something about our own. It's a lot simpler than you think, but it's not easy. This is one of those easier-said-than-done things. Still, all you have to do is change your vocabulary.

I'm not asking you change what you are saying, and I'm not asking you to change your position on anything. Just change how you say things. You can be just as direct in humane terms as you can by using aggressive vocabulary. Not immediately pointing out another's stupidity may even lessen the tension of the conversation, but it won't decrease it's intensity. If there's something to say, if there's something worth saying, it can be said kindly as well as aggressively. It can be honest without being brutal. It can be to-the-point without being in-your-face.

Of course, this all comes with a 30-day, free-trial, money-back guarantee.

Not only will you feel better about yourself and your contribution to the world (kinder words mean kinder actions), but you will slowly notice that others will notice as well. Your acquaintances, friends, and relatives will all be more than impressed by the new you. But what you'll also notice that your own head will start getting clearer. We have no idea how much aggravation, stress, and frustration cloud our thinking. If what you have to say has value, let the ideas speak for themselves, not the emotions. You should always say just what you mean and, naturally, also mean what you say. But how it's said can make much more of a difference than you may think.

Try it. I think you'll like it.

The language of the market

Have you noticed how commercial, how financial, how economic our language has become? I'm not talking about the simple fact that things like the stock market have their own shows when they really don't deserve to be talked about at all. No, I'm talking about the shift in tone, attitude, and impact that a general change in vocabulary brings with it.

For example, as noted last time, we don't talk about "careers" or even "employment" anymore, we only talk about "jobs". The first two terms has some longevity, some continuity to them, but the last one doesn't. Or how about a phrase like "ownership of learning"? What's owned? What was wrong with motivation? Everyone knows that to get ahead in life or to succeed anywhere, you have to "pay your dues". We no longer ask people to support our causes, we have to get them to "buy in". Goals have become "targets", effort is now an "investment". We don't give up, we "sell out". We no longer have people working for us, we have "human capital"; we no longer have reputations, we have "social capital". The most fundamental reason for something is now "the bottom line". Citizens have been reduced to "consumers". Schools and government agencies now have "customers" too. Is this really necessary?

The words we use, whether we like it or not, say more about us than most of us are aware. Our everyday discourse has been turned into an economic exchange. We have reduced our vocabulary, and consequently our thinking, to merely economic terms. Language, which was once considered a social medium, is now more of an economic medium: as I've said before, we gave up our society for an economy. I don't think it was a "good deal", it wasn't a step along the road to progress.

There is more to life than just money, and there is more to the interactions among human beings than the market. When we forget that, we run the risk of reducing everyone and everything to an object of exchange ... yes, an object ... a commodity, something that can be bought and sold like anything else. I once took silent and humble pride in the fact that I belonged to the species homo sapiens, the one creature on earth who not only knew about instinctual interaction but higher, nobler, more meaningful interactions as well. The biologists did their best to reduce us to just clever animals, but what's even worse is our degradation to the simplified, somewhat crippled homo economicus.

Our lives aren't the richer for it. There may be more money floating around than there once was, but there's no real indication that most of us are happier or really leading better, higher quality lives because of it. If it didn't work in economics where it had its greatest chance, why would we think that chasing after that less happy model in the other areas of our lives would have more success? Oh yeah, I forgot, we dropped that sapiens thing, didn't we?

Say what you mean

What do you do when the words you've used all your life are no longer usable? Not that they're worn out, no, just that they don't mean what they used to. Some came along and changed them. Is that even possible? Well, truth be told it is.

It's not a new thing, really. Not two hundred years ago if you used the word "awful" it was a good thing. What you were experiencing, looking at, feeling, filled you with awe. Not Rumsfeldian awe, real awe ... wonder, admiration, the kinds of feelings many folks used to have toward G-d, when there was allowed to be One. Some "awesome" only had some awe, and not necessarily good awe ... pre-Rumsfeld, but more that kind of awe. In other words, it was a relatively negative term. Today though, they've switched places.

This is, I suppose, a natural process of language, but I missed the awful/awesome switch, and I can't say I'm sorry. But the one we're seeing now is a little more troubling to me.

I'm talking about very basic political orienting terms like "conservative" and "liberal". Growing up, I always thought that conservatives were people who wanted to conserve, keep, protect, hold on to something. And for the most part, that's what it looked like they were doing, even if I didn't particularly agree with them. On the other hand, the root of the word "liberal" is the Latin word for freedom, that is, liberals were the ones advocating change, more often than not in the sense of more individual and collective freedoms, even it I didn't agree with where they were going with some things. That's all changed now.

We may talk about neo-liberal economics, but the "neo-" prefix is a matrixian sleight-of-hand to make you think it's about the free flows of money or something. It's not, it's about restricting those flows to some unspecified club of folks who think that agreeing on bonus contracts is a more valuable skill than actually protecting people's savings. Of course, our friends at Faux News like to use it as an epithet to simply discredit anyone they don't want having any say. This is perhaps the most heinous usage, but it does seem to be the one that is catching on, so we have all of this "ilk" being tossed into the same pot for regular stirring.

On the other hand, I had to sit up and take notice when I read a recent article by the linguist George Lakoff, who rather poignantly pointed out that the upswell in alleged conservatism in the United States is anything but that. Instead, they are actually redefining and recasting a number of notions that I once thought I knew what they meant, like privacy, democracy, values, and basic human rights. Just when I thought I was beginning to understand the world and what people were saying, I find out -- once again -- I don't. Oh well, back to the dictionary, I guess.

Like I said, shifts in meaning are a natural part of language, and I actually believe that the awful/awesome switch was the result of a natural process. What is happening now, however, is quite a different story. I guess I have to be on my toes to find out what some people really mean. I wish they would just say what they mean ... and mean what they say. But maybe I'm not supposed to know.

Innocuous?

Words are anything but innocuous. They are perhaps one of the most powerful tools we have. They are deceiving, though, because their power is so subtle. Magicians know of their power, but magicians are not given much credit these days, but ignoring words is a rather futile strategy. It can give us a break for a while, but it can never solve the problem. You see, 'ignoring' and 'ignorance' stem from the same root. They have more in common that we might like to admit.

I just read a tweet and a blog from two intelligent, thinking individuals who were amazed -- at least that's the impression they made -- that a for-profit educational institution put profits before students. Really? How amazing is that? The name says it all: for-profit. The raison d'etre of the organization is profit, not education.

Oddly enough I've had personal experience with one of the instituions that this group manages. When I got my own MBA, the mantra being chanted was 'the purpose of business is the maximization of profits'. This was, by the way, the same mantra that was being chanted in every for- and not-for-profit of higher (so-called) education all across the land. I have a nephew who's now studying (undergraduate) business administration at a respected German university, and his profs are instilling the same mantra in him. It's time to wake up folks: it's all about the money. If profits and money were only a business problem, I don't think I'd mind all that much. My friend Julius (Caesar) used to remind me of an old saying in his day: caveat emptor (let the buyer beware). This isn't anything new. And, if you stop to think about it, individuals who's highest ideal has been money have been cutting corners, stretching the truth, outright tricking and deceiving their customers since long before Julius' day as well. In fact, long before Julius a wise man once noted that the love of money is the root of all evil. That was a very wise man.

No, my problem, if you will, is that we have taken the vocabulary over into other areas of life where it has little, if any, business at all (if you'll excuse the pun). Areas like education, for example: Why do students have to buy in to the curriculum? What does ownership of learning really mean? Since when should learning be considered an investment? And these are just a couple of the most obvious.

Part of this shift in usage, of course, is directly related to the fact that we have turned our society into an economy. Social notions, like community, welfare, and public, have all taken on negative connotations. We just don't like them very much any more. We prefer words of power (just like magicians): economic words.

These aren't just words. Words quite often stand for ideas and for ideals. People are willing to die for ideals ... not for words, mind you, but the ideals that those words come to represent. This is a normal, natural process, and because it is so, we should be a bit more careful when engaging in it. We should say what we mean, but more importantly, we should mean what we say.

Vocations and Professions

My initial reaction is that vocations have to do with being called; professions do the calling. Catchy, I suppose, but not very helpful.

I've been given a small but difficult task in a project in which I'm taking part: make clear the difference between vocational training and academic-based education in 25 lines or less. Seems to be a lot like an old contest from a cereal box. It isn't. European educational policy hangs in the balance. OK, not in the balance, but over my shoulder.

There are two fundamental oppositional pairs that I'm wrestling with: (1) training vs. education and (2) vocational vs. ???. The problem's pretty obvious: I'm missing the second element of the second pair. At the moment, I've classified it as a language problem.

Grow (1991) makes a sensible and simple distinction between training and education: the former, he contends, is "learning to do something well"; the latter, "becoming prepared for an uncertain life". It's a start. Granted, there are certain professions, like lawyers, doctors, teachers, and others, which are heavily engaged in training, and this training is to prepare the learner for functioning on the job. So, there is certainly an occupational component, at any rate. My hesitancy arises in placing profession opposite vocational, because I think this sends the wrong signal, especially in terms of the task I need to perform.

Leafing through Postman (1995), however, has provided me with a potential exit out of my dilemma. Though differentiating between schooling and education, he raises an interesting distinction that appears helpful to me: training, learning to do something well, enable us to make a living. Education, on the other hand, in preparing one for uncertainty, helps us to make a life for ourselves. The difference is simple, yet profound.

To participate in a professional field, of course, one starts with a basis in education, and then adds the training on top. Vocational training, for the most part, starts with the fundamentals (3 Rs, basic general knowledge, etc.) and then focuses primarily on the training part. Of course, highly skilled tradespeople are capable of functioning well in an uncertain world, but the focus of their skill development is not the uncertainty, but certainty: doing their trade well. Higher education, though, is supposed to prepare us for greater levels of uncertainty?

Perhaps. This is the thought I'll have to pursue. I'm still missing a word in for my pairs. Vocational/Professional is too sharp. Vocational/Academic seems too bookish. Vocational/Occupational is not sharp enough. The search continues.

----------
Grow, G. (1991) "Teaching Learners to be Self-Directed." Adult Education Quarterly, 41, 125-149

Postman, N. (1995) The End of Education, NY, Vintage Books

The heart of the matter

Everywhere I've been lately there's been a lot of talk about learning: elearning, formal learning, informal learning, vocational learning, professional learning. You name it, someone's found a way to tack "learning" on the end of it, as if this would clarify anything. It doesn't.

Most of my discussion partners really weren't talking about learning, they were talking about other things, like education, training, or schooling. I'm not convinced that any of these 3 last-named notions really have a lot to with learning per se. What is more, in most of those discussions, replacing the word "learning" with "teaching" would have made them at least more comprehensible and, more importantly, accurate. For some reason I get the very strong impression that most people think that others won't learn unless there's someone there to help them. I think that's putting the cart before the horse . We humans are capable of so very much, but there is one thing I found that we can't do in the least: we cannot not learn. We are constantly and continually intaking, assimilating, sorting, sifting, filtering, feeling, processing, remembering, and forgetting ... in other words, learning. Learning is what we do most, and what we do best, even if most of us like to doubt the quality of that learning when we see the results in others. Maybe that's why we so often get that urge to institute some kind of control system, like schools, colleges and universities, religious institutions, and other training providers.

Certainly we can learn on our own, and I would be the last to maintain that others can't or couldn't make a substantial contribution to our learning. What I'm skeptical of, though, is what I like to call the "teacher value-added". What most teachers do - at least in my experience - falls under lecturing, maybe audio-visual (at least since the advent of PowerPoint and the web), and in some cases some demonstration with the occasional discussion group thrown in for good measure. I know I'm being too hard on a lot of my colleagues, but just suggesting changes never brings them about. While it may not be a perfect model, the learning pyramid at least give us a frame of reference for thinking about teaching and learning. It would seem to make sense to place more emphasis where the expectations of the outcomes are the highest, at the bottom of the pyramid. More bang for the buck, as we used to say in defense.

To me, the best teacher of all is the one who gets out of the way and lets others learn. This is not to say that teachers should not be involved in learning. They should be. This is not to say that teachers are superfluous. They aren't. But teachers need a better understanding of their role in the process, as the catalyst of learning process, not primarily the assessor of learning outcomes.