Monday 22 June 2009
Thursday 18 June 2009
I read the news today...
...I don't know why I bothered. I wonder why anyone reads the news, in fact. Do people find themselves thinking "Hang on, I'm far too cheerful and optimistic right now, I'd better pick up a newspaper and get myself into a less naive frame of mind about life and the world"? If not, then why do they pick up the newspaper?
Two articles in particular caught my eye.
The first was about British interrogation policy post-9/11. It seems that British intelligence officers were 'told they were not under any obligation to intervene to prevent detainees [of Britain's allies] from being mistreated. "Given that they are not within our custody or control, the law does not require you to intervene to prevent this," the policy said.' The article went on to say that according to 'Philippe Sands QC, one of the world's leading experts in the field', this is a breach of international human rights law 'because it takes no account of Britain's obligations to avoid complicity in torture under the UN convention against torture. Despite this, the secret policy went on to underpin British intelligence's relationships with a number of foreign intelligence agencies which had become the UK's allies in the "war against terror"' (for the article reference see reference 1 below).
Are there two sides to this? I don't think so. Even a child would understand this - as we are taught at school, if you are a witness to bullying in the playground and don't speak out about it, then you are complicit in that bullying. And we know which country the bully is in this case. This revelation is, of course, further evidence (if such evidence were needed) of our ex-Prime Minister's poodle-like relationship to the US, and evidence of the fact that the US rather than the UN calls the shots in today's world.
Of course, I should be careful about writing such things, because the second article I read was about the 'outting' of anonymous bloggers (2). This was particularly concerning for me, as at the very moment I was reading the article I was thinking about an extremely controversial piece of highly secret information that I felt the need to tell the world about through the highly subversive form of my blog. Undaunted, I resolved to spill the beans anyway. This piece of highly secret information is as follows.
First, some context. As I read these articles in the print edition of the Guardian I was wandering in the KPA (for those of you who don't know about this venerable acronym, the Keele Postgraduate Association bar at Keele University) drinking a mid-morning cup of procrastination (3). Moments before I picked up the paper, the following exchange had taken place. I had entered the bar, and asked the barman for a small coffee. I then asked him something which has been on my mind for some time now: "Do you get top-ups with both the 'small coffee' and the 'large coffee'?"
His reply: "Yes, but you only get one top-up with the large coffee, whereas you get two for a small coffee. You're asking why anyone would go for a large coffee, aren't you."
"Yes. Surely you get more coffee in 3 small coffees than in 2 large?"
At this point his colleague entered the fray with the following attempt at crushing critical thinking: "I don't think so."
I responded: "There's only one way to find out: a test."
The test was conducted using a small coffee cup, a large coffee cup, two glass jugs, and water. It was discovered that 2 large coffees does indeed have a larger volume than 3 small coffees.
That is not my expose (I do of course mean expose-ay, as in, the past participle of the French word exposer that we have adopted into the English language, hence the italics - there is an accent missing on the final 'e' which I can't seem to find in this blogging program). The exposé (I copy-pasted the symbol from another website - easy) is that the price of a large coffee is £1.20 and the price of a small is £1 - but the difference in volume between the large and small coffees in no way equates to this difference in price.
I expressed this view to the barman, who was unconvinced (presumably his job was on the line, although he did point out that "we don't make the rules, we just follow them"). I knew he would not let the general public in on this terrible secret and that that onerous task would fall to me. So here it is, in all its brutal, repugnant glory.
I now await my 'outting' as a seditious blogger by The Times. It may be the end of my career (probably not, as I don't have one yet) but I still believe I was right to speak out. After all, we know (and remember, and understand the significance of, in today's surveillance state/society of control) Pastor Martin Niemoller's poem:
First they came for the Jews,
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists,
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me,
and there was no one left
to speak out for me.
References:
1. Cobain, Ian (2009) "Tony Blair knew of secret policy on terror interrogations" The Guardian Thursday 18 June http://www.guardian.co.uk/politics/2009/jun/18/tony-blair-secret-torture-policy
2. de Jour, Belle (2009) "A dangerous precedent: The ruthless unmasking of the blogger NightJack can only discourage others from speaking out" The Guardian Thursday 18 June http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2009/jun/17/nightjack-blogging-anonymous-whistleblowing
3. Parton, Dolly (1980) "9 to 5" 9 to 5 and Odd Jobs Nashville: RCA
Two articles in particular caught my eye.
The first was about British interrogation policy post-9/11. It seems that British intelligence officers were 'told they were not under any obligation to intervene to prevent detainees [of Britain's allies] from being mistreated. "Given that they are not within our custody or control, the law does not require you to intervene to prevent this," the policy said.' The article went on to say that according to 'Philippe Sands QC, one of the world's leading experts in the field', this is a breach of international human rights law 'because it takes no account of Britain's obligations to avoid complicity in torture under the UN convention against torture. Despite this, the secret policy went on to underpin British intelligence's relationships with a number of foreign intelligence agencies which had become the UK's allies in the "war against terror"' (for the article reference see reference 1 below).
Are there two sides to this? I don't think so. Even a child would understand this - as we are taught at school, if you are a witness to bullying in the playground and don't speak out about it, then you are complicit in that bullying. And we know which country the bully is in this case. This revelation is, of course, further evidence (if such evidence were needed) of our ex-Prime Minister's poodle-like relationship to the US, and evidence of the fact that the US rather than the UN calls the shots in today's world.
Of course, I should be careful about writing such things, because the second article I read was about the 'outting' of anonymous bloggers (2). This was particularly concerning for me, as at the very moment I was reading the article I was thinking about an extremely controversial piece of highly secret information that I felt the need to tell the world about through the highly subversive form of my blog. Undaunted, I resolved to spill the beans anyway. This piece of highly secret information is as follows.
First, some context. As I read these articles in the print edition of the Guardian I was wandering in the KPA (for those of you who don't know about this venerable acronym, the Keele Postgraduate Association bar at Keele University) drinking a mid-morning cup of procrastination (3). Moments before I picked up the paper, the following exchange had taken place. I had entered the bar, and asked the barman for a small coffee. I then asked him something which has been on my mind for some time now: "Do you get top-ups with both the 'small coffee' and the 'large coffee'?"
His reply: "Yes, but you only get one top-up with the large coffee, whereas you get two for a small coffee. You're asking why anyone would go for a large coffee, aren't you."
"Yes. Surely you get more coffee in 3 small coffees than in 2 large?"
At this point his colleague entered the fray with the following attempt at crushing critical thinking: "I don't think so."
I responded: "There's only one way to find out: a test."
The test was conducted using a small coffee cup, a large coffee cup, two glass jugs, and water. It was discovered that 2 large coffees does indeed have a larger volume than 3 small coffees.
That is not my expose (I do of course mean expose-ay, as in, the past participle of the French word exposer that we have adopted into the English language, hence the italics - there is an accent missing on the final 'e' which I can't seem to find in this blogging program). The exposé (I copy-pasted the symbol from another website - easy) is that the price of a large coffee is £1.20 and the price of a small is £1 - but the difference in volume between the large and small coffees in no way equates to this difference in price.
I expressed this view to the barman, who was unconvinced (presumably his job was on the line, although he did point out that "we don't make the rules, we just follow them"). I knew he would not let the general public in on this terrible secret and that that onerous task would fall to me. So here it is, in all its brutal, repugnant glory.
I now await my 'outting' as a seditious blogger by The Times. It may be the end of my career (probably not, as I don't have one yet) but I still believe I was right to speak out. After all, we know (and remember, and understand the significance of, in today's surveillance state/society of control) Pastor Martin Niemoller's poem:
First they came for the Jews,
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists,
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me,
and there was no one left
to speak out for me.
References:
1. Cobain, Ian (2009) "Tony Blair knew of secret policy on terror interrogations" The Guardian Thursday 18 June http://www.guardian.co.uk/politics/2009/jun/18/tony-blair-secret-torture-policy
2. de Jour, Belle (2009) "A dangerous precedent: The ruthless unmasking of the blogger NightJack can only discourage others from speaking out" The Guardian Thursday 18 June http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2009/jun/17/nightjack-blogging-anonymous-whistleblowing
3. Parton, Dolly (1980) "9 to 5" 9 to 5 and Odd Jobs Nashville: RCA
Tuesday 16 June 2009
The market for lemons
My girlfriend wants to buy a second-hand car. I think it's a good idea. If and when we do so, it will be the first car that either of us will have owned. Neither of us is a car expert; we are the type whose normal conversations tend to drift onto the politics of the everyday rather than the art of motorcycle maintenance, so to speak (to mix pop culture, academic references, and figures of speech). So how will we be able to tell a good car from a lemon?
Akerlof (1970) and a great many economists since - including one of my first year seminar tutors for undergraduate economics - would doubtless warn us of a great many potential hazards in the endeavour on which we are about to embark.
Fortunately, one of the assumptions behind Akerlof's work does not obtain. My girlfriend is not homo economicus. She's an Indian. She is not going to buy her car from a used-car salesperson. She is going to call one of her Indian friends in the UK, who will perhaps call some other Indians, and put her in touch with an Indian who wants to sell a car. The seller will be a known quantity.
My girlfriend is not stupid; this course of action is obvious to her. Who would do otherwise? In this context, the market is for lemons.
References:
Akerlof, George A. (1970) "The market for 'lemons': quality uncertainty and the market mechanism" Quarterly Journal of Economics 84 (3) 488-500
Akerlof (1970) and a great many economists since - including one of my first year seminar tutors for undergraduate economics - would doubtless warn us of a great many potential hazards in the endeavour on which we are about to embark.
Fortunately, one of the assumptions behind Akerlof's work does not obtain. My girlfriend is not homo economicus. She's an Indian. She is not going to buy her car from a used-car salesperson. She is going to call one of her Indian friends in the UK, who will perhaps call some other Indians, and put her in touch with an Indian who wants to sell a car. The seller will be a known quantity.
My girlfriend is not stupid; this course of action is obvious to her. Who would do otherwise? In this context, the market is for lemons.
References:
Akerlof, George A. (1970) "The market for 'lemons': quality uncertainty and the market mechanism" Quarterly Journal of Economics 84 (3) 488-500
Monday 15 June 2009
Decaffeinated cocktails
I attend a training workshop aimed at teaching graduate students to teach. In one of the afternoon tea breaks, I notice one of my fellow graduate students put two teabags in a cup and fill it with boiling water. One tea bag is peppermint; the other is camomile. I congratulate her; it never occurred to me to mix teas in this way. "Since submitting my thesis I have been trying to decaffeinate," she explains.
The scene struck me as possibly suitable subject matter for Piled Higher and Deeper (http://www.phdcomics.com/). But then, I always thought that the trouble with making cartoons about PhD students is that most outsiders would never believe they are in any way linked with reality. Would anyone believe, for instance, that one of my post-fieldwork anthropologist friends actually said she had started to feel "messianic" towards the community of people with whom she did her fieldwork?
The scene struck me as possibly suitable subject matter for Piled Higher and Deeper (http://www.phdcomics.com/). But then, I always thought that the trouble with making cartoons about PhD students is that most outsiders would never believe they are in any way linked with reality. Would anyone believe, for instance, that one of my post-fieldwork anthropologist friends actually said she had started to feel "messianic" towards the community of people with whom she did her fieldwork?
Friday 12 June 2009
"So you're a helmet-locker, are you?"
This is what my friend Ern says as I bend over my bicycle with my D-lock, to lock it to the railings outside the pub.
"At least you lock the helmet on the road-side of the railings," he observes. "That makes it harder for dogs to piss in it.
"Cyclists I have spoken to are divided on this. Obviously you don't want to carry your helmet round with you the whole time. The trouble is, if you lock it up with your bike, it is the perfect height to provide a cup for the dog's piss - and it is incredibly attractive to the dog because it's stinking of your sweat."
I pick up the helmet and carry it into the pub with me, a helmet-locker no longer.
"At least you lock the helmet on the road-side of the railings," he observes. "That makes it harder for dogs to piss in it.
"Cyclists I have spoken to are divided on this. Obviously you don't want to carry your helmet round with you the whole time. The trouble is, if you lock it up with your bike, it is the perfect height to provide a cup for the dog's piss - and it is incredibly attractive to the dog because it's stinking of your sweat."
I pick up the helmet and carry it into the pub with me, a helmet-locker no longer.
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