Cultural Traps, Part IV

America is a funny place. And Americans are a funny bunch (when we can actually agree on what the hell being an American even means anymore, but I digress).

As time passes and more strangeness unfolds, I realize that the older I get, the more that criticisms of this country that would have rankled a younger me now see valid and very well-founded. It’s not that my love of this country has diminished with age. It’s that my uncritical, unthinking love of this country has diminished with age, as has my uncritical, unthinking love of ANYTHING.

What used to incense me, regarding criticisms of America, particularly those from non-Americans, now has me nodding my head and muttering, “Yeah, you’ve kinda got a point.”

It’s an interesting thing.

— Alexander (@DaytimeRenegade) April 10, 2018

Music, philosophy, politics . . . you name it. Things are different now, and assumptions have to be examined accordingly. That’s what my Cultural Traps series is all about. That said, let’s look at a few more of those supposedly unshakable American tendencies that either make no sense, or trap you in a harmful way of thinking that doesn’t let you fairly and accurately examine all sides of an issue.

Now, I know every culture on Earth has its own traps and foibles, but I’m an American, dammit. So I’m focusing on ‘MERICA!

Here we go.

Being Immune to History. I read an article the other day on The Federalist by a gentleman named Jesse Kelly–normally a pretty funny guy—about his preference that the United States peaceably split. A “divorce,” he calls it. It’s an interesting premise, and one has to rid oneself of the typical American tendency–discussed here–to have a hysterical, knee-jerk reaction to even the merest utterance of an idea in order to appreciate what Kelly says that’s deeper than “we should have an amicable split”:

Anyone who thinks this is a radical idea has an extremely narrow view of history. If you don’t believe me, go try to book a plane ticket to Czechoslovakia, or look at a map of Europe from the year 1600, then look at one today. See any differences? Borders move. Countries split and change hands. They do this for a myriad of reasons.

A rebuttal on the same website, written by one Lyman Stone, calls this idea dangerous and impracticable, if you’re interested in reading the counterpoint. I’m not here to debate the merits of this idea. But I do think Kelly raises an interesting point when he says “Anyone who thinks this is a radical idea has an extremely narrow view of history.”

By and large, Americans have an extremely narrow view of history. We seem to believe that history began in either 1963, if you ask Mr. Larkin, or five minutes ago, if you ask anyone born between 1997 and 2000.

Get “woke.” Get on “the right side of history.”

Those who wish us harm have very long memories and even longer time-horizons and visions for the future. Remember, the Chinese still smart over their humiliation at the hands of Western powers some two-hundred years ago, and ISIS and al-Qaeda and their ilk are still mad about the Crusades . . .

Meanwhile, we here in America are totally convinced that we can eliminate all crime by disarming the populace or something.

Worse, we’re absolutely convinced that everything will continue the way it has just because. Bad things never happen here, nor will they ever. Our way of life will continue in perpetuity, and America will always be the Top Dog because of some undifferentiated belief in “Freedom!” no matter how many stupid, short-sighted policies are shoved down our throats.

Concurrent with this trap is the inability to even conceive that something may at some point change, or that maybe the way we do things isn’t the best way to do things. Who knows? Maybe this country will split someday, or some of the bigger states will break up into smaller, more representative states. Or maybe some states will want to leave entirely. Or maybe the United States will not remain the world’s only hegemon, either militarily or economically.

Hey, it could happen. But no one wants to talk about it.

Stuff like this “sneaks up” on us because we are blind to its possibility. Nothing occurs “just because” or “for no reason whatsoever.” Effects have causes. By being blind to this, thinking that America is truly the peak of civilization obviates the need to improve and leaves you with stagnation and rot which will really bring the whole thing crumbling down.

This tendency, this false sense of security, might be the most tragic aspect of the whole American experience. Which brings me to the next cultural trap in this discussion.

When the Novelty is Gone: Triggering for Triggering’s Sake

I understand, appreciate, and even applaud the instinct to stick it to the man. There’s so much sanctimonious, stifling, joyless politically correct nonsense around today that it deserves a good poke in the eye. Several, actually. If the brittle and clearly disturbed champions of the new “decency” are so mentally fragile that they can be broken by a damn politician, then they deserve all of the triggering they get.

It would be fine if people like this weren’t telling the rest of us how to live our lives all the time. But they do. And that’s what I object to.

That said, doing something for the sole purpose of pissing off the “right” people is just dumb. Dumb and counterproductive.

It reduces any actual movement, as it were, to a parody. Mere trolling. A novelty act.

Spiteful posturing is the province of adolescents. It’s similar to the worst of the hippies back in the 60s, who wanted to tear everything down because they didn’t want to be “square,” which really meant (a) not getting drafted (which I can understand), (b) not wanting to work, and (c) “free love.”

Now, there’s a similar desire to say and do things just to send the morality crusaders into an admittedly amusing tizzy of rage.

But beyond that?

If there’s nothing underneath the controversy, it makes you look unserious. And being unserious is actually serious business.

If there’s no intellectual heft behind your “triggering,” no steak beneath the sizzle, it becomes a gag, and a gag only works once.

We Are All Frauds

Authenticity is an elusive concept. We all want to be “true to ourselves.” But this first requires that we know who we are.

There’s also an important, overlooked second part, and that is this: authenticity lies in acting in accordance with who we are, or at the very least, how we wish we could be.

In his excellent guest post here, Avtomat Khan of Hidden Dominion discussed the idea of sharing who you are and what you think, regardless of consequences, lest others control you via you putting undue emphasis on what they think of you.

Hmm . . . that sounds familiar. Almost like the title of a book I read recently. And like that book–Ed Latimore‘s Not Caring What Other People Think Is A Superpower–such an internal harmony is the best way to avoid charges of hypocrisy.

And remember: Hypocrisy isn’t bad only because other people will know you’re a fake or a fraud. It’s bad because you will know it too.

I think about this because, as someone who blogs on the Internet, likes to write, and uses social media as a way to communicate, get a few laughs, learn, blow off steam, and even indulge in a little self-promotion, I wonder about the fact that somewhere there may be someone who actually takes what I say seriously.

This is both humbling and frightening. Humbling, because I like to think that I do have some wisdom worth sharing, and frightening, because who the hell am I? I’m just some dope with a WordPress account.

Everyone is a fraud. Some are just bigger frauds than others.

— Alex's 5:00 Shadow (@DaytimeRenegade) October 6, 2017

And worst of all, for my own sense of cognitive well-being, I don’t share everything with all of you. So how can you know if I’m authentic or not? And I don’t act the way I want and just let the chips fall where they may. If I did that, I probably wouldn’t have a wife, or a job, or friends . . .

So am I really true to myself?

Eight Insights About God, Man, and Creation from Moses Maimonides’ Guide for the Perplexed

How does one “review” a dense, millennia-old treatise on Jewish philosophy and religion?

One doesn’t. But what one can do is share insights and particularly powerful ideas and concepts with another.

In The Guide for the Perplexed, written around 1190 in Moor-occupied Spain, Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon (aka Maimonides aka Rambam) writes to his student Rabbi Joseph ben Judah of Ceuta, to remove some of his confusions regarding certain aspects of faith and philosophy.

The Guide touches on many, many topics including:

• The multiple meanings of Hebrew words and how to properly interpret the Torah (aka the first five books of the Old Testament)
• Aristotelian philosophy: what Aristotle got right and wrong
• Problems Maimonides sees with certain aspects of Islamic theology
• The nature of God and proof of His existence
• The nature of evil, and why it exists
• Divine Providence
• The nature of angels, prophecy (with a detailed discussion of Ezekiel) and dreams
• Astronomy (as understood at the time) and the “spheres”
• The purpose of God’s commandments

And yet instead of seeming disjointed, the Guide has as a constant thread two main themes:

1. Discerning who God is and what He wants
2. Achieving perfection, as much as possible, by coming to true knowledge of God

It’s heavy stuff, but it makes you appreciate the magic of the written word, and how one man’s letters nearly one thousand years ago still speak to us today, explaining mysteries and, as the title says, removing perplexities . . . or at least easing them and providing a way forward for further studies and thought.

Regular readers of Amatopia know that I am a Christian and don’t shy about writing on religious topics, so if that isn’t your bag, you have been warned. But even though Maimonides was Jewish, there is much overlap between Judaism and Christianity–same God, same creation stories, same traditions, similar rites (or at least the meaning behind them) and much of the same general theology and philosophy about God and man.

Obviously, Christians accept Christ as the promised Messiah and Son of God described in Jewish prophecy and Jews regard Him as a prophet and religious leader, but not Divine.

But the point remains: Christians can get a lot out of The Guide for the Perplexed. And even if you are not Christian, Jewish, or religious at all, Maimonides is a powerful thinker you will get a lot out of reading. Here are eight of my favorite takeaways from The Guide for the Perplexed:

Cultural Traps, Part III

Observing your own culture with a detached eye helps one recognize the good, the bad, and the ridiculous. I’ve written about some of these traps before, those parts of American culture that we all take for granted but might not actually make sense.

In this third edition, I’m going to look at some things that might be emerging trends in America that are both really stupid and really dangerous, many culled from my own experiences and observations. 

Some of these might not be uniquely American. They may just be human nature. But when I see my countrymen and women (whatever the hell that means anymore) act like scary monsters, I can’t help but see these tendencies shaded in red, white, and blue. 

Opposing one thing automatically means liking the other.

Here's a cognitive trap for you: Assuming that criticism of one side automatically equates with blanket approval of the other.

— Alex (@DaytimeRenegade) May 22, 2017

Are you against the death penalty? Then you clearly want to open all the prisons and are super-soft on crime.  

…or maybe you’re just against the death penalty. 

Perhaps you oppose partial-birth abortion. You obviously want women at risk of death die from birth complications to die. 

…or maybe you’re just against partial-birth abortion. 

This might be more of a logical fallacy than a cognitive trap, but it is still (a) everywhere l, and (b) dumb.

Unintelligent people think like this, or liars. I’m sorry if that sounds mean, but it’s true. One is either incapable of seeing this trap, or is wielding it as a rhetorical club. 

If the former, you can learn. If the latter, its effective, sure, but it really doesn’t move the needle in any direction. It does something that could arguably be another entry on this list, which is assuming ill intent on the part of the other. Rhetorically, it’s a weapon. But it weakens your own position and makes you look silly. You risk losing credibility, which in a debate–akin to a trial–is the kiss of death.  

Disproportionality and overreaction, aka hysteria.

America has a proportionality problem. We "debate" like hysterical chicken littles hopped up on speed and self-importance.

— Alex (@DaytimeRenegade) May 31, 2017

Debating is an art that requires practice and preparation. It also requires an understanding of the rules of a particular interaction, such as whether the relationship with your opponent will be ongoing, whether you’re trying to change the other’s mind, or whether you’re trying to illustrate a point to your observers. But either way, you want to make your points using reason, logic, and evidence.

Of course, what really changes hearts and minds is emotion. So use rhetoric where applicable. It’s very effective, and for some people, whether you call them midwits or IYIs (“intellectuals, yet idiots,” per Nassim Nicholas Taleb), that’s all they understand.

"I'm for traditional marriage."
"YOU WANT TO MURDER GAYS!"

"Let's end corporate tax breaks."
"OH MY GOD HE'S A COMMIE!"

— Alex (@DaytimeRenegade) May 31, 2017

This trap dovetails nicely with the first, but it’s distinguished by what I call default nuclear.

Learn the Hate

America. It’s a divided place. This is no great revelation born of years and years of study and contemplation, but a conclusion one can make by scanning the Internet or television or media of your choice for ten seconds. 

One-third hates the other third, and the remaining third doesn’t care. 

But those two side that hate each other, boy is there a lot of enmity. 

This “blue state/red state” divide has gotten worse since these terms came into vogue around 2004. 

The red side accuses the blue side of living in a bubble. The blue side claims the bubble is a myth. 

The bubble is a myth? Please. I live in it. 

I’ve got a red-state core but I love and travel in blue-state circles, so I notice things others might not.

There’s a lot of hate, yes, but there’s is precious little understanding about why. 

And I think this is a big problem. 

I've got what bothers me about politics in 2017: Neither side is that interested in why the other doesn't like them.

— Alex (@DaytimeRenegade) March 19, 2017

It’s as important to understand why the other side hates you as it is to understand why you hate the other side. 

This is the divide that I think creates many problems b/c it precludes self-reflection. Which is dangerous.

— Alex (@DaytimeRenegade) March 19, 2017

I hear a lot of the affluent, highly educated urbanites laugh at Trump’s constituency, but underneath the indignation and political disagreement is a layer of genuine hurt: These folks don’t understand why many reject them and the work that they do. 

Being called the “deep state” for merely doing their job. Distrusted as the cause of economic misery. And worst, being accused of not caring, which to this set is what really stings. 

They’re supposed to be the compassionate ones! What gives?

Book Review: Emma by Jane Austen

I am four books into my read-through of the entire Jane Austen canon, and all I can say is that I enjoy each book more than the last.

So does that mean that Emma, the topic of this review, is a better book than Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice, and Mansfield Park? Only in the sense that I seem to enjoy whichever of her books I am reading at the time the most.

Everybody knows Emma, right? Emma Woodhouse, the matchmaker who cares so much about the romantic goings-on of others, and so little for her own, that a few early successes blind her to the romantic blunders she is making others step into.

This matchmaking aspect is a large part of Emma. But it’s not the only part. I am finding it difficult to say anything about the Austen oeuvre that hasn’t been said before and have instead tried to extract from them why I think they are worth reading aside from the entertaining stories. And two themes that I took from Emma are those of self-awareness and that people can change.

Let’s have some plot for context: Emma is the youngest daughter of the hypochondriac widower Henry Woodhouse. She is charming, rich, witty, attractive, and too clever for her own good. After successfully matching her sister Isabella to family friend John Knightly, she fancies herself somewhat of an expert on matchmaking. And that is where her trouble begins.

Emma is also flighty, inconstant, and never spends enough time devoting herself to the improvement of anything, as John Knightly’s brother George, who serves as her conscience, is so fond of pointing out. She is, in other words, a middleweight despite her obvious energy and intellect:

“She was not much deceived as to her own skill, either as an artist or a musician; but she was not unwilling to have others deceived, or sorry to know her reputation for accomplishment often higher than it deserved.”

What’s worse, many of her schemes to bring people together go wrong, with sometimes humorous, sometimes harmful results.Her friend Harriet Smith; the priest Mr. Elton; the farmer Robert Martin; Frank Churchill, the stepson of Emma’s governess; family friend Jane Fairfax . . . they are all on the receiving end of Emma’s machinations. The fun and poignancy of the story is seeing all of these little stories play out, and the effect that they have on Emma and her conception of self.

I won’t go into spoilers except to say that, as with all of Austen’s works, her characterizations are sharp and deep, her insights into human nature are masterful, and there is always that dialogue . . . some of the best written by anyone, ever, in the English language.

But Emma might be my favorite Austen character thus far, and here’s why: While clearly intended to be unlikable at the outset, she does what she does not out of malice, but out of what she thinks is for the best. So there’s a clear intention/outcome dichotomy, but it works because of Emma’s  willingness to change.