GULP, ONLINE:Today's Sermon:: a minor awokening

[thompnickson2]

Oh, Geez.  And then I did send it to FRIAM.

 

This technology should not be trusted to idiots. 

 

Please, my friends, do me the honor of forgetting what I said there.  Please?  I have edited it below to protect the innocent.  Please delete the previous version.  As you are my friends.

 

Nick

Nicholas Thompson

Emeritus Professor of Ethology and Psychology

Clark University

[hidden email]

https://wordpress.clarku.edu/nthompson/

 

 

From: [hidden email] <[hidden email]>
Sent: Saturday, September 5, 2020 3:24 PM
To: 'The Friday Morning Applied Complexity Coffee Group' <[hidden email]>
Subject: OFFLINE:Today's Sermon:: a minor awokening

 

Dear Steve, 

 

I would not be surprised if you did, indeed, know  him.  Somehow, he worked his way into being something of a water commissioner up there, mediating the most difficult issue I can imagine… as a stranger?  The whole thing seemed incredible to me, but a credit, in any case, to the vibes he gives off. 

 

[NST===><===nst] … I am sitting in a coffee house talking to our tall friend and X comes up to the table and says, “Can I join you?”  I want to say no, but X does, after all, own  the place, so my Liberal anybody-can-talk-to-any-body-else thing kicks in, and we’re off.  X flips into right-wing asshole, I try to modulate, and Our Friend stays for a suitably polite interval and then makes his excuses and leaves.  As he goes out the door, X turns to me and says, “Did I say something?” (X is not a complete idiot; he just plays one on TV) 

 

It goes down as one of the most humiliating moments of my life.  But I am not sure you can repair it.  I guess you could say, if he remembers me, that the bald, lame, crow-watcher thinks fondly of him, would love to know how the water thing worked out, and looks forward to running into him again as soon as I can start going to coffee houses again. 

 

I am glad to know he is alive, and presumably well.

 

As to you second story, it is terribly familiar.  Both my father and my older brother could, when not sober, talk about “Jews”.  It just seemed to come out of nowhere.  I will reserve my further comment for a FRIAM post which I will make in a moment.   

 

Thanks, Steve,

 

Nick

Nicholas Thompson

Emeritus Professor of Ethology and Psychology

Clark University

[hidden email]

https://wordpress.clarku.edu/nthompson/

 

 

 

From: Friam <[hidden email]> On Behalf Of Steve Smith
Sent: Saturday, September 5, 2020 1:27 PM
To: [hidden email]
Subject: Re: [FRIAM] Today's Sermon:: a minor awokening

 

Nick -

I think I may well know the man of whom you speak... he is in my "second order circle" so I only see him while visiting certain friends or at events we all share or the occasional criss-cross in a public venue.   I will try to remember to ask him if he remembers YOU...   question is which stereotype might I appeal to to describe you to him?   I won't speculate on what forms that might take as I explore my own stereotypes, or worse yet, my projections of what *his* stereotypes of you might be.     If we are talking about the same person I doubt he would have "avoided you"... he has been fairly politely blunt with me a few times and then resumed the jovial conversations we were having.   He seemed very practiced at navigating (not so) hidden judgements and assumptions about him.

My own mother had a modest amount of self-awareness, growing up in KY fairly proud of being a "Yankee" in the sense of north of the Mason-Dixon and from a subculture that was too poor to have ever risked owning a slave or having a close relative who did.  She lived with her aunt in the city of Frankfort during the school year in the depression for lots of reasons.   She was therefore raised as an only child, her cousins having recently grown and moved out of the family home.   She tells an anecdote of having developed a friendship with a girl who lived *somewhere* between *her school* and her aunt's house... she would pause to play with her every day after school until it got to where she started being noticeably late home... when she told her aunt why she was late, she said "why don't you just invite your friend home next time and you can play here!"...  she asked her friend who resisted for about a week and then finally came home (her aunt married a Scottish Doctor, so their home was very meticulous and in a nicer neighborhood, but they lived crazy-frugal anyway) and after the first day, her aunt very politely told her not to invite the friend back, and in fact, was forbidden to play with her anymore.   The little girl was apparently the first black person she had ever met and it was years later that she guessed that that was what it was all about...   her aunt was too "polite" to make a deal about it and too "authoritarian" to be questioned.    Later her mother gave her a family heirloom which was referred to colloquially as a "tar baby" which her mother explained to her had been a type of doll that young girls were given to "play with" in the style and memory of how their ancestors had been allowed to "play with" the slave babies.   Her mother explained how wrong *all* of it was, from the slavery to the treating even the babies as property, to replacing them post-emancipation with effigies, etc.   I learned this when she was unpacking from one of our moves and it showed up in a cardboard barrel amongst her mother's (our aunt's) china that we never used...  my sister saw it and was intrigued and "wanted to play with it" whereupon my mother tried to explain all of this to us and then declaring that "the best thing I can do is get rid of it, it is just a reflection of a bad piece of history".   I don't know if it went in the burn barrel with our other trash or if she figured out some more respectful disposal method... I would like to think she knew of a historian or similar for whom such an artifact could be made meaningful.   This and other similar instances made me think that my parents were the least prejudiced people I knew, until at 19 my sister who had a small group of friends from college, one of who was African American...  my parents liked him a lot, he was a very sociable and interesting person (his father was career military and his mother had died when he was young and he and two sisters were raised by "help").   But at some point, the friendship drifted into the boyfriend zone and they very sternly, albeit embarrassingly disabused me of the thought that they were not prejudiced.   I don't remember the exact conversations but it was clear that they were very much against the relationship, even if they didn't quite try to forbid their (adult) daughter from continuing.   I think they even enlisted one of their (more openly) racist friends to have a conversation with her.  It did not sit well at all with me.  But made me realize how hidden some of these judgements, stereotypes, opinions, etc can be.   I'm sure I'm laced with junk like that.

- Steve

Dear fellow congregants,

 

One of the things we talk about is our bemusement at Trump supporters.  One expression you often hear these supporters say is that they admire him because “He tells it like it is!”  They can say this while acknowledging  that almost everything he says is false.  So, if he is lying most of the time, what is he telling the truth about?

 

I think I know.  As I keep insisting, I am not a boomer.  I am from the Silent Generation, the Lonely Crowd.  My mother’s life hero was Eleanor Roosevelt.  It was I, aged seven, who brought the news of the President’s death to my parents, and I was startled to seem my mother burst into tears.  Crying was not her thing.  My folks were publishers. We had black, Jewish, gay, lesbian, working class, authors visiting the house.  But – and here is the point – when they visited, they visited as such.  Not that I was told as a child explicitly, but it was conveyed to me as a child, somehow, that these folks belonged to a different category.  And my education, in Massachusetts, in the 40’s, was devoid of any explicit contact with anybody in any of these categories.

 

Ok, fast forward 70 years to Santa Fe.  I befriend at Ohoris an extremely tall black man, grizzled, slow moving, thoughtful, with an intricate, international biography full of remarkable connections and coincidences.  He fits in every conceivable way my childhood stereotype of the “old wise black man”.  I sit in rapt attention to his stories. I look up to him, which, given his height, is my only choice. But, as we continue to meet, a tension begins to rise between us that is coming largely from me, but I cannot control.  He becomes aware that I am seeing him through the stereotype of  the old wise black man.  Because I cannot admit to it, he is imprisoned by it.  Our conversations are based on a lie.  He disappears from Ohoris and I never see him again.  He would rather eschew good coffee, than live in my lie. 

 

This is what Donald Trump is truthful about.  He tells the truth about his own stereotypes.  He is truthful about himself.  That what he believes is FALSE is irrelevant to his base.  He admits to thoughts which they know many others find distasteful.  It is hard to live in a world which has moved on from one’s childhood, a world in which others find one’s basic categorizations distasteful – in fact, a world in which one finds one’s own basic categorizations distasteful. 

 

To break Trump we need to come to a new understanding and acknowledgement of type-isms.  There are always going to be type-isms.  We human beings do that sort of thing.  Raised in a particular way, at a particular time I see a tall grizzled black man as wise, and everything he says and does is read through that lens.  That’s abduction.  This person wears a dress, this person is a woman, this person is gentle, that ‘s abduction.  (Well, it’s abduction-deduction, but let that go.)  Human beings naturally form identity groups that trap ourselves and others in false abductions.  So we need to design our society to counter these. (Libertarians beware.  Here come Nick’s white vans, again)  In this case the white van takes the form of aggressive  taxation of the rich and aggressive education of the poor, and of institutions that promote the random mixing of our citizens (like public universities and armies – or conservation corps).  

 

Could my friendship with the tall black guy have been rescued?  Could we have laughed about my stereotypes?  Perhaps I should have said, early on, “Look, I’m sorry, I keep seeing you  as Uncle Remus.  I am sure, as I get to know you better, I will get over it.  Please be patient with me, and please call me out whenever you feel confined by it. ” 

 

A Liberalism that does not free me is not worth the name.

 

Nick

Nicholas Thompson

Emeritus Professor of Ethology and Psychology

Clark University

[hidden email]

https://wordpress.clarku.edu/nthompson/

 

 

 

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[gepr]

As one who has regularly made such mistakes over my entire lifetime (all the way back into the early '80s, posting to BBSes and Minitel), one heuristic works the best: Everything you say and do with "digital media" is *public*. There are no private tools. All your emails are public. All the data files on your computer are public. Every keystroke is available. Coherent profiles of you are being built by everyone from Amazon and Facebook to Russian trolls and Steve Bannon. Privacy is an old-timey concept.

And it's unfair to yourself *and* to all the victims out there (of identity theft, stolen credit card numbers, revenge porn, etc.) to use the word "idiot". Anyone, from Bruce Schneier to one's 10 year old grandkid can make a mistake and become a victim, not only of crime, but also of bad actors (e.g. narcissists) using details about you against you in a public way, to "dominate" you, win arguments, or otherwise bully you.

The only way to "win" is to avoid playing.


On 9/5/20 2:44 PM, [hidden email] wrote:
> Oh, Geez.  And then I did send it to FRIAM.
>
> This technology should not be trusted to idiots. 
>
> Please, my friends, do me the honor of forgetting what I said there.  Please?  I have edited it below to protect the innocent.  Please delete the previous version.  As you are my friends.
>

--
↙↙↙ uǝlƃ

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Zoom Fridays 9:30a-12p Mtn GMT-6  bit.ly/virtualfriam
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