We hear a lot about the "evils" of modern technology - by which people seem to mean smartphones, rather than, say, kettles.
Endless photos are posted on social media (it's not clear whether this is deliberate, or unintentional, irony on the part of those posting...) showing people "staring mindlessly" at their phones in settings from art galleries to restaurants. People ignoring the band on stage at a music venue to film it on their phone. Because, of course, the people commenting in despair have never taken a photograph of any event they attended, or recorded any family event, They are much more intellectual advanced, far more morally superior, than that.
Because, of course, technology and social media are almost universally slammed for "encouraging narcissism and endless self-promotion." Indeed. Including the somewhat narcissistic idea that we have a right to comment on how others, who are not known to us personally, choose to pursue happiness.
And perhaps there's truth in the accusation - perhaps people are genuinely more self-obsessed than they have ever been previously. Perhaps social media is less social, and more an endless round of people shouting about themselves, at people who can't hear, because they're also shouting about themselves?
Or perhaps the apparent self-involvement and narcissism of social media is a symptom, not the problem. A symptom of a society already fractured by greed, arrogance, divisive political and socioeconomic actions, inactions, policies and ideologies, a society in which people have been systematically deprived of the love and respect of others, and so have come to realise that they might as well love themselves, rather than go mad from the isolation of being seen as one more piece of human detritus.
When I think of "modern technology", I think of the fact that I wouldn't have a job if I didn't have a laptop and on-demand internet access. I think of the years - actual, literal, soul-destroying years - I spent chasing every job listed in the paper, every vacancy poster stuck in the window of every shop. I think of the money I wasted travelling to register with employment agencies who weren't interested.
And then I think of how much easier earning money, through something I am actually good at, has been since I've had broadband. I think of how much easier getting in touch with employers has become thanks to email - no more playing phone tag for days on end before you finally manage to return someone's call at the same moment they're free to take yours.
I think of oppressed groups, fleeing war, violence, persecution, and using Facebook to tell the rest of the world what's happening.
I think of victims of abuse, of disabled people, of mentally ill or neurodiverse people, who can finally connect with other people who know what their life has been like, even if they don't feel able to leave the house. I think of housebound people finally able to shop for themselves.
I think of LGBTQ+ youth, finding their community without the risks of dubious bars, clubs, and physical meetings with unknown people.
I think of people in geographically remote locations, without transport, able to develop friendships.
I think of non-verbal individuals who are able to communicate their interests and intelligence.
I think of Deaf individuals, able to engage in lively conversations.
And I think of Socrates, and his aggressive rejection of the "new technology" of writing...and realise that social media and smartphones aren't "modern technology" at all. They're a very ancient and long-established technology presented in contemporary fashion.
There will always be vain and selfish people - they existed even in Socrates' time, before the advent of the written word, and they will exist long after the laptops and smartphones we're familiar with have been replaced by something incomprehensible to today's 30yr olds.
Technology is, like so much else, morally neutral. It is our motivations for engaging with technology that make it troublemaker or therapist.
Sunday, 15 January 2017
Thursday, 24 November 2016
Why Are There Intolerant Right-Wingers? By Ashley Ford-McAllister
"How dare the soft, liberal left wing be talking about legalising cannabis?! And why are prisons no longer places to be feared, sadistically breaking the awful individuals who inhabit them?!"
This (a little hyperbolised, but not by much) was a frothing-at-the-mouth letter in my regional paper this morning, to which I wrote the following response (name of original correspondent omitted.)
This (a little hyperbolised, but not by much) was a frothing-at-the-mouth letter in my regional paper this morning, to which I wrote the following response (name of original correspondent omitted.)
In response to (correspondent's) letter bemoaning the discussions around the potential legalisation of cannabis, and the "soft" approach of prisons, I will assume that (correspondent) also thinks it was "soft and liberal" to decriminalise homosexuality, abortion, and suicide? Or to amend the statutes that considered women "chattels", first of their fathers, then, if they married, of their husbands - and of their closest male relative, should a woman's father die before she married? Perhaps it was "soft and liberal" to abolish slavery as well - after all, it's certainly made things more difficult for the poor hard working employers, hasn't it, since they can barely make a profit, having to actually pay their labour as they now do.
Times change, attitudes, knowledge, awareness, and understanding change with them - sometimes, those changes bring about changes to the law of the land.
Many people - perfectly respectable, hard-working, law-abiding people - would benefit from a legalisation of cannabis, as it has been proved to be an effective pain relief for people with severe, chronic conditions, including cancer patients. People who, currently, are often reliant on morphine - which is an opium-based painkiller, from the same family as the street drug heroin. I myself have been prescribed morphine for pain relief in the past - I can happily confirm I never felt the desire to become a heroin addict as a result.
Many people talk about how we should "make prison somewhere to be feared" - and yet, in a developed, functional society, imprisonment shouldn't be about sadistically breaking someone's spirit because "they deserve to be punished" - it should be about working with them to reduce, or, ideally, eliminate, the chances of them re-offending, to enable them to complete their period of separation from friends, family, and the on-demand enjoyments of life available to those at liberty - going for a long walk when the weather's good, going out for a meal, enjoying a pint down the pub with friends, having a functional romantic relationship - and emerge as individuals who are able and willing to become functional, contributing members of the economic and social spheres of life.
We shouldn't be breaking those undertaking military service, either - we should be training our armed forces to make their own decisions under pressure, to be able to quickly identify different ways of getting a desired result, to understand and empathise with other human beings, even if they don't necessarily agree with those peoples' motivations and views - training to blind, broken obedience isn't going to solve any of the problems facing the world: we need intelligent, innovative, and, yes, compassionate, leaders - not followers who are lashing out at others because they themselves have been hurt, humiliated, and broken.
That's not "liberal leftist nonsense" - that's basic humanity.
It is easy, when seeing attitudes we disagree with, particularly ones that vehemently support the status quo, however dysfunctional and punitive that status quo may be, to become angry, to dismiss those who hold such views as "bigoted dinosaurs", and to console ourselves with talk about how they will "go extinct soon enough".
The problem is, these attitudes aren't dying off. There are young people with these attitudes - I've encountered several of them.
There are intelligent people with these attitudes - I've encountered them, too.
These attitudes can't be dismissed as simple bigotry and intolerance that will soon go the way of the dodo - the UK Brexit result in June, and the recent US election result, have proved that such attitudes are more prevalent and powerful than the dedicated left have ever admitted, and than they are comfortable acknowledging. There is something more than simple hatred powering these views, because hatred is too intense an emotion to be effective over a long period. Genetically, we would have evolved to not hold on to hatred, because, in unstable, uncertain settings, such as those homo sapiens emerged within, and from, it made no sense to refuse to cooperate with certain individuals or groups - bridges were a vital necessity, and burning them was something to be avoided at all costs.
What underlies these hostile attitudes is fear - not a fear of certain people, or a fear of particular things and situations, but a fear of the world changing so much that these individuals no longer have a place within it.
It is this fear that powers the hostility to women in the workplace, and frontline military service - if women can be business people, factory hands, soldiers, and there are slightly more women than men, and women aren't affected in the same way as men by the age-related decline of testosterone, and are also less prone to the spectacular failures of high-risk decisions driven, in part, by heightened levels of testosterone in their younger working years, might men not, eventually, be come to be seen as a risky business investment, and passed over in favour of the statistically more efficient, enduring, and reliable women?
It is this fear that powers the refusal to accept the reality of gay and lesbian individuals being able to marry - if marriage is no longer the preserve of the nice, normal heterosexual element of society, than how can those people continue to believe that they are the norm? If society accords the privilege (and the tax breaks and rights) of marriage on "anybody", doesn't that make us all "nobody"?
It is this fear that powers the denial of the validity of transgender individuals and their genuine, lived experience - if a female-bodied person can become a physically, socially, and legally recognised man, or a male-bodied person can become a physically, socially, and legally recognised woman, if such individuals can marry, hold jobs, buy property, and, indeed, participate fully in the life of the State, than how can anyone be certain of their gender, or claim a privilege associated with it?
It is this fear that powers the constant braying of Christians that their rights and "traditional values" are being eroded - if the establishment isn't validating your particular viewpoint and belief system, you have to validate it yourself, with evidence, or, at the very least, attractive, viable, lived example of how it improves things for society as a whole - and that's difficult and frightening for many people. Much easier if you can simply say "The government of this country agrees with my viewpoint, and thus my viewpoint must be correct."
Fear is a powerful, attractive emotion, because, for a long time, fear kept us alive long enough to continue our genetic line, and increase the population density of our species. It is fear that allowed us to become a powerful, successful apex predator, and fear that allowed us to survive the extremes of previous ice ages, episodes of global warming, continental drifts, earthquakes, and other natural disasters - fear saw us leave, if we were able, before the rumblings of discontent in our corner of the natural world gathered sufficient force to destroy us utterly. Those who weren't afraid, or who were unable to act on their fear because of poverty or infirmity, died. As they still do.
And yet, in the end, fear will be the death of us - because, if we never defy fear, we never learn what is possible. Innovation and improvement is impossible without a defiance of fear. The greatest rewards, socially and personally, often carry the greatest risk, and thus cause us to experience the greatest fear. It must be terrifying for an infant, walking for the first time, to raise itself to what must seem like a great height above the stability of ground level, to take on a position in which its field of vision is drastically altered, and to trust in only two limbs instead of four - and yet no one would argue that it is desirable for humans to perpetually crawl. There is great risk, still, attached to pregnancy and childbirth - and yet we would die if no one ever faced the fear of that risk, and said "I understand this - and I defy it."
If no one had ever defied the fear of extreme heights and depths, we'd have no knowledge of outer space, or the ocean floor. If no one had ever defied fear, we wouldn't have air travel, nuclear power, gunpowder, or half the strange and wonderful foodstuffs we do. (Hats off to the first person to pull a monkfish or an octopus out of the ocean and think "I could eat that.")
If we never defied fear, we would never know the limits or potential of our capabilities.
We can't just mock fear, can't just dismiss those who are still bound by it - because that, in itself, is a kind of fear, the fear that says, if we help others who don't think the way we do, they may turn on us.
We are all fear's captive, in one way or another, and thus we should all be building bridges across our fear.
Sunday, 31 July 2016
Privilege Isn't the Problem
"Privilege": it's often used to shut other people up, particularly in online spaces. Whether intentional or not, its use is frequently aggressive, with the undertone of "You don't deserve to have an opinion, you are not worth our time, you have no right to be in this space."
Privilege is something that others frequently assume is in operation: I have schizophrenia, which impairs the way I process information, my employment opportunities, and the way I see the world. I grew up in an emotionally abusive dynamic, which impacts on how I respond to criticism (real or perceived), and how I handle confrontation and conflict, among other things. I am also a trans man - that is, I was born female bodied, but live, present, and am seen as a man.
However, it is typically assumed that I have, and always have had, white, male, abled privilege.
White privilege, yes. Male privilege - yes, albeit conditionally: if people know my trans status, or find out about it, I am immediately thrown out of the "male privilege" category. Abled privilege? No, not so much.
"Waah, privilege!" is often used to say "I don't value you enough to even listen to your opinion!"
And yet privilege can be used for good: watch this video to understand how. Sometimes, people don't want to be "the angry black woman", or "the screechy gay guy", or "the aggressive lesbian with the attitude", or "the whiny disabled person", or "the embarrassing trans person", or "the crazy dude." Sometimes, they don't want to draw any more attention to themselves than they already have, especially around people who don't care how awkward they're making interactions for these people. That's where those with privilege - including conditional, or "passing" privilege - need to step in, and use that privilege to say "Excuse me, this isn't acceptable - you don't treat another human being like that."
Privilege isn't the problem, because privilege can't be helped - I can't change the fact that I was born white, for example. I wouldn't want to change the fact that I can live and be seen as a male - not because I'm "treated better" (I'm treated about the same, although I'm more likely to be called "faggot", if I try and stop other men street-harassing women. I'm also more likely to be laughed at by women when I wear shorts), but because I feel better - I feel more like me. Life may one day change the fact that I do not have a physical, visible disability, or it may not. The fact that I am white and able-bodied, the fact that I am perceived as male, doesn't mean I don't have intelligent things to say, valid contributions to make to discussions.
However, as a person with white male privilege, at least, I need to remember that mine should only ever be a voice in a wider, more diverse chorus - that women and ethnic minorities should speak about issues that directly affect them, that physically disabled people should dominate conversations around public access, because they often have barriers, such as wheelchairs, to everyday navigation that I don't face. I don't have much to say in trans spaces, because I don't see myself as trans, and am not seen as trans by the wider world - I'm male, first, foremost, and (pretty much) exclusively. There are people who, through choice or circumstance, will never be seen as anything other than trans - those are the voices that should be loudest on trans issues, although, where those such as I do have something to say, our voices should be welcomed, and heard - passing, especially as completely as I do, can be very lonely - you never really fit in with the non-trans world, you're always aware, painfully aware, of the general dislike, suspicion, and, in some cases, violent hatred that that world reserves for people like you, but you don't really fit in with the trans community, either - especially, it often seems, if you're Asexual, as I am: Asexuality embarrasses the trans community, at times, just as it sometimes embarrasses the disabled community, because both of those communities focus - rightly - on the fact that their members "enjoy normal, healthy, sexual relationships." It's always awkward to know what to do with the person who says, nervously, "Ummm...Excuse me, but I...ah...I'm not interested in sex." When you're focused on normalising your community, and their experience, presenting the adults of the community as sexual people is a big part of that normalisation. Asexuality is poorly understood, and too readily assumed to be "a physical or hormonal problem" - something that can, and should, be fixed.
The problem isn't "privilege", which can't be helped, and is often situation-dependent in any case.
The problem is entitlement - the belief that factors entirely outside your control, and not related at all to the intelligence or validity of anything you may have to say, make you superior to others, and your opinions thus more valid. Entitlement, not privilege, is what causes people to believe their voice should drown out every other, or that they should be deferred to, that they should have the "final say" on all matters, whether those matters affect them or not. Entitlement feels perfectly justified in blaming those who are perceived as "lesser" for any "failure" of the entitled person's natural privilege to grant them access to what they want - as someone who has the privilege of being a white, physically able male, I understand that, sometimes, a better qualified person will be interviewed for, and given, a job I badly wanted. I understand that successive governments have been forcing down wages, and fostering divisions between employers and employees. If I don't get a job, or something I try and set up doesn't work out, my first thought is "what do I need to improve about myself, or about this concept?" Entitlement's first response is "I didn't get it because someone else stole it!" or "It didn't work out because all those other people (who are different to me) are awful/lazy/stupid." Entitlement sees "discrimination!" in every refusal, because it cannot comprehend how a "lesser" person can succeed where it has failed.
Normalisation won't combat entitlement. Only standing up for, and in, our diversity will do that, because when we are clearly "different", we can't be "lesser" - because we're not working to the same standard.
I look fully male. It is not a "failure" of "lesser" trans men that they don't - it is a difference, and one that should be celebrated. Some trans women conform to traditional ideas of female beauty - others do not. That, again, is a difference of people who are diverse, not a "failure" of those who are "lesser." I don't understand or interact with the world in the same way someone without schizophrenia does - I never will do. That is my difference, not my failure, just as a wheelchair is the physically-disabled person's difference, not their failure. I look at members of the Deaf community, as someone whose schizophrenia includes auditory processing impairment, and I wonder how anyone can see as lesser, as "failed", people who have learnt an entire language, who have often spontaneously innovated within that language. I am, and grew up, working-class. Like many working-class people of the traditional stripe (ie, what is now called the "working poor", rather than those in receipt of welfare intervention), I never thought my family was "poor" - we were different. Our experiences were different. But we never saw them as less valid. (As an adult, I tend to see the working-class experiences of part-time childhood jobs, of making do and mending, of innovating - using an old bed frame to make a garden gate, for an example from my own childhood - and of getting by on very little as far more valuable, in practical terms, than the experiences of exotic gap years, plush internships, foreign holidays, etc - but, at the same time, I understand that wealthier people who enjoy these things see them as valuable in the scheme of their life, and that's fine, too.)
I love, and value, interactions with people whose experiences aren't like mine. With people who aren't me. I can't help it - I'm a writer: people are meat and drink to me.
Privilege is something that others frequently assume is in operation: I have schizophrenia, which impairs the way I process information, my employment opportunities, and the way I see the world. I grew up in an emotionally abusive dynamic, which impacts on how I respond to criticism (real or perceived), and how I handle confrontation and conflict, among other things. I am also a trans man - that is, I was born female bodied, but live, present, and am seen as a man.
However, it is typically assumed that I have, and always have had, white, male, abled privilege.
White privilege, yes. Male privilege - yes, albeit conditionally: if people know my trans status, or find out about it, I am immediately thrown out of the "male privilege" category. Abled privilege? No, not so much.
"Waah, privilege!" is often used to say "I don't value you enough to even listen to your opinion!"
And yet privilege can be used for good: watch this video to understand how. Sometimes, people don't want to be "the angry black woman", or "the screechy gay guy", or "the aggressive lesbian with the attitude", or "the whiny disabled person", or "the embarrassing trans person", or "the crazy dude." Sometimes, they don't want to draw any more attention to themselves than they already have, especially around people who don't care how awkward they're making interactions for these people. That's where those with privilege - including conditional, or "passing" privilege - need to step in, and use that privilege to say "Excuse me, this isn't acceptable - you don't treat another human being like that."
Privilege isn't the problem, because privilege can't be helped - I can't change the fact that I was born white, for example. I wouldn't want to change the fact that I can live and be seen as a male - not because I'm "treated better" (I'm treated about the same, although I'm more likely to be called "faggot", if I try and stop other men street-harassing women. I'm also more likely to be laughed at by women when I wear shorts), but because I feel better - I feel more like me. Life may one day change the fact that I do not have a physical, visible disability, or it may not. The fact that I am white and able-bodied, the fact that I am perceived as male, doesn't mean I don't have intelligent things to say, valid contributions to make to discussions.
However, as a person with white male privilege, at least, I need to remember that mine should only ever be a voice in a wider, more diverse chorus - that women and ethnic minorities should speak about issues that directly affect them, that physically disabled people should dominate conversations around public access, because they often have barriers, such as wheelchairs, to everyday navigation that I don't face. I don't have much to say in trans spaces, because I don't see myself as trans, and am not seen as trans by the wider world - I'm male, first, foremost, and (pretty much) exclusively. There are people who, through choice or circumstance, will never be seen as anything other than trans - those are the voices that should be loudest on trans issues, although, where those such as I do have something to say, our voices should be welcomed, and heard - passing, especially as completely as I do, can be very lonely - you never really fit in with the non-trans world, you're always aware, painfully aware, of the general dislike, suspicion, and, in some cases, violent hatred that that world reserves for people like you, but you don't really fit in with the trans community, either - especially, it often seems, if you're Asexual, as I am: Asexuality embarrasses the trans community, at times, just as it sometimes embarrasses the disabled community, because both of those communities focus - rightly - on the fact that their members "enjoy normal, healthy, sexual relationships." It's always awkward to know what to do with the person who says, nervously, "Ummm...Excuse me, but I...ah...I'm not interested in sex." When you're focused on normalising your community, and their experience, presenting the adults of the community as sexual people is a big part of that normalisation. Asexuality is poorly understood, and too readily assumed to be "a physical or hormonal problem" - something that can, and should, be fixed.
The problem isn't "privilege", which can't be helped, and is often situation-dependent in any case.
The problem is entitlement - the belief that factors entirely outside your control, and not related at all to the intelligence or validity of anything you may have to say, make you superior to others, and your opinions thus more valid. Entitlement, not privilege, is what causes people to believe their voice should drown out every other, or that they should be deferred to, that they should have the "final say" on all matters, whether those matters affect them or not. Entitlement feels perfectly justified in blaming those who are perceived as "lesser" for any "failure" of the entitled person's natural privilege to grant them access to what they want - as someone who has the privilege of being a white, physically able male, I understand that, sometimes, a better qualified person will be interviewed for, and given, a job I badly wanted. I understand that successive governments have been forcing down wages, and fostering divisions between employers and employees. If I don't get a job, or something I try and set up doesn't work out, my first thought is "what do I need to improve about myself, or about this concept?" Entitlement's first response is "I didn't get it because someone else stole it!" or "It didn't work out because all those other people (who are different to me) are awful/lazy/stupid." Entitlement sees "discrimination!" in every refusal, because it cannot comprehend how a "lesser" person can succeed where it has failed.
Normalisation won't combat entitlement. Only standing up for, and in, our diversity will do that, because when we are clearly "different", we can't be "lesser" - because we're not working to the same standard.
I look fully male. It is not a "failure" of "lesser" trans men that they don't - it is a difference, and one that should be celebrated. Some trans women conform to traditional ideas of female beauty - others do not. That, again, is a difference of people who are diverse, not a "failure" of those who are "lesser." I don't understand or interact with the world in the same way someone without schizophrenia does - I never will do. That is my difference, not my failure, just as a wheelchair is the physically-disabled person's difference, not their failure. I look at members of the Deaf community, as someone whose schizophrenia includes auditory processing impairment, and I wonder how anyone can see as lesser, as "failed", people who have learnt an entire language, who have often spontaneously innovated within that language. I am, and grew up, working-class. Like many working-class people of the traditional stripe (ie, what is now called the "working poor", rather than those in receipt of welfare intervention), I never thought my family was "poor" - we were different. Our experiences were different. But we never saw them as less valid. (As an adult, I tend to see the working-class experiences of part-time childhood jobs, of making do and mending, of innovating - using an old bed frame to make a garden gate, for an example from my own childhood - and of getting by on very little as far more valuable, in practical terms, than the experiences of exotic gap years, plush internships, foreign holidays, etc - but, at the same time, I understand that wealthier people who enjoy these things see them as valuable in the scheme of their life, and that's fine, too.)
I love, and value, interactions with people whose experiences aren't like mine. With people who aren't me. I can't help it - I'm a writer: people are meat and drink to me.
Wednesday, 20 July 2016
Defending Defences
The UK government has just voted to renew Trident, the UK's nuclear deterrent, which comprises of a fleet of "constantly deployed" submarines off the coast of Scotland.
Opinion, as with most things the UK government does, is divided.
The cost (over £200billion...) is the thing that most people who are against Trident are angry about - especially when the UK has suffered under several years of "austerity" which has seen salaries and services slashed, threats to privatise the NHS (National Health Service), government support for zero-hours contracts (which pay per hour worked, provide NO minimum guaranteed hours, and often include an "exclusivity" clause, meaning a person employed on a zero-hours contract can't work another job alongside the zero-hours one), and money being taken away for spurious reasons from the unemployed and disabled, along with rampant harassment, bullying, and humiliation of such individuals by the very people who are paid (quite well) to help them develop the skills - including self-confidence - to manage sustained employment.
The cost is often countered by the idea that Trident supports employment in the area - estimates of jobs "dependent on" Trident remaining in place vary from the hundreds to the thousands - a brief Google search for "employment related to Trident" includes figures ranging from 520 jobs to 13,000!
Undoubtedly, defence is a big industry, and, especially in predominantly working-class Scotland, industry and employment are necessary. However... when other industries are closed down, such as the British steel industry, the general attitude, particularly from government, is that affected individuals can "re-skill in alternative sectors."
The issue - with British steel, with jobs lost if Trident is ever scrapped - is that, to date, the UK has not had a government that is prepared to ACTIVELY SUPPORT re-skilling, to genuinely invest in helping people - often the "wrong side of 40", who have spent their working life in a particular industry - to gain the skills and experience needed to access the "next generation" of jobs; hell, there often isn't the interest in providing this level of support to disadvantaged young people trying to get into the labour market for the first time, who may not have had the opportunity to develop the required skills as part of their formal education, which is overwhelmingly focused on passing exams and ticking boxes, rather than relevant hard and soft skillset development, and readying young people for adult responsibilities, including employment.
The question, in the end, shouldn't come down to cost, or jobs: it should come down to relevance. To the threats currently facing the UK, and Trident's ability to deal with them.
So far, the biggest threat - to any country - has come from home-grown terrorists acting alone, often with very simple, but effective, kill methods.
It is likely that, in the next 40 years, cyber-terrorism will increase as a viable threat, computers and internet access being typically easier to get hold of than nuclear weapons, cheaper, and capable of causing much more wide-ranging devastation.
Trident can't answer either of those threats - it's not meant to. Our largest single defence expense is designed and funded to NOT counter what look like becoming the two biggest threats we'll face.
But we can't. either, ignore the people who will be left unemployed if Trident is ever scrapped - as it eventually will be. This government - the one the UK has now, in 2016 - needs to actively invest in sustainable employment in working-class areas, and in the up-skilling and re-skilling of workers in "at risk of obsolecence" industries, as well as the education, and readying for adult responsibilities of those currently in school - from primary school onwards. The Department for Work and Pensions (DWP) needs to drastically improve its services for, and attitude to, the unemployed.
Trident is a Catch-22, not because of the presumed "status" we're told it confers on the UK, and thus the potential "loss" of that status should it be abandoned, but because the UK can't abandon Trident without further investment in alternative employment, and the necessary skills training across all age groups and social demographics that alternative employment will require, yet such investment will never take place while there is the option of Trident - because the latter is far more effective as an "ego boost" to the current political class, and also far more tangible an asset on the cost sheet of the UK budget: you look at £200billion pounds spent on a submarine fleet, broken down into the manufacture of the vessels, the equipping of them, maintenance, staffing, etc, etc, and you can nod and smile and understand. "Employment and employability" are vague terms, terms which cause problems when people try and understand the amount of money spent on them.
So much needs to change before calls to scrap Trident have a hope of being heeded - we need to stop thinking we can run a country like a business. We need to educate our politicians and media in how to explain, and our populace in how to understand, the costs and benefits of intangible assets. And, most of all, we need to find our pride in people, and their success and quality of life, rather than in brute power, and how much of it we have.
Opinion, as with most things the UK government does, is divided.
The cost (over £200billion...) is the thing that most people who are against Trident are angry about - especially when the UK has suffered under several years of "austerity" which has seen salaries and services slashed, threats to privatise the NHS (National Health Service), government support for zero-hours contracts (which pay per hour worked, provide NO minimum guaranteed hours, and often include an "exclusivity" clause, meaning a person employed on a zero-hours contract can't work another job alongside the zero-hours one), and money being taken away for spurious reasons from the unemployed and disabled, along with rampant harassment, bullying, and humiliation of such individuals by the very people who are paid (quite well) to help them develop the skills - including self-confidence - to manage sustained employment.
The cost is often countered by the idea that Trident supports employment in the area - estimates of jobs "dependent on" Trident remaining in place vary from the hundreds to the thousands - a brief Google search for "employment related to Trident" includes figures ranging from 520 jobs to 13,000!
Undoubtedly, defence is a big industry, and, especially in predominantly working-class Scotland, industry and employment are necessary. However... when other industries are closed down, such as the British steel industry, the general attitude, particularly from government, is that affected individuals can "re-skill in alternative sectors."
The issue - with British steel, with jobs lost if Trident is ever scrapped - is that, to date, the UK has not had a government that is prepared to ACTIVELY SUPPORT re-skilling, to genuinely invest in helping people - often the "wrong side of 40", who have spent their working life in a particular industry - to gain the skills and experience needed to access the "next generation" of jobs; hell, there often isn't the interest in providing this level of support to disadvantaged young people trying to get into the labour market for the first time, who may not have had the opportunity to develop the required skills as part of their formal education, which is overwhelmingly focused on passing exams and ticking boxes, rather than relevant hard and soft skillset development, and readying young people for adult responsibilities, including employment.
The question, in the end, shouldn't come down to cost, or jobs: it should come down to relevance. To the threats currently facing the UK, and Trident's ability to deal with them.
So far, the biggest threat - to any country - has come from home-grown terrorists acting alone, often with very simple, but effective, kill methods.
It is likely that, in the next 40 years, cyber-terrorism will increase as a viable threat, computers and internet access being typically easier to get hold of than nuclear weapons, cheaper, and capable of causing much more wide-ranging devastation.
Trident can't answer either of those threats - it's not meant to. Our largest single defence expense is designed and funded to NOT counter what look like becoming the two biggest threats we'll face.
But we can't. either, ignore the people who will be left unemployed if Trident is ever scrapped - as it eventually will be. This government - the one the UK has now, in 2016 - needs to actively invest in sustainable employment in working-class areas, and in the up-skilling and re-skilling of workers in "at risk of obsolecence" industries, as well as the education, and readying for adult responsibilities of those currently in school - from primary school onwards. The Department for Work and Pensions (DWP) needs to drastically improve its services for, and attitude to, the unemployed.
Trident is a Catch-22, not because of the presumed "status" we're told it confers on the UK, and thus the potential "loss" of that status should it be abandoned, but because the UK can't abandon Trident without further investment in alternative employment, and the necessary skills training across all age groups and social demographics that alternative employment will require, yet such investment will never take place while there is the option of Trident - because the latter is far more effective as an "ego boost" to the current political class, and also far more tangible an asset on the cost sheet of the UK budget: you look at £200billion pounds spent on a submarine fleet, broken down into the manufacture of the vessels, the equipping of them, maintenance, staffing, etc, etc, and you can nod and smile and understand. "Employment and employability" are vague terms, terms which cause problems when people try and understand the amount of money spent on them.
So much needs to change before calls to scrap Trident have a hope of being heeded - we need to stop thinking we can run a country like a business. We need to educate our politicians and media in how to explain, and our populace in how to understand, the costs and benefits of intangible assets. And, most of all, we need to find our pride in people, and their success and quality of life, rather than in brute power, and how much of it we have.
Tuesday, 28 June 2016
What Unites Us, What Divides Us: By Ashley Ford-McAllister
"We stand for British values."
"Proudly American."
"Irish to the core."
"Authentically Italian."
These, and many other somewhat jingoistic slogans, are always popular among the "nationalist" and "patriotic" elements of any country - homo sapiens is, after all, still a tribal species at heart, seeking belonging and identity, forging a sense of self in the fires of reliance on external forces.
But how many people, responding with either quiet pride and a knowing nod, or wild, over-the-top, sometimes downright anti-social, applause, really know what their "national identity" looks like?
I'm a mongrel Brit - born in Britain, in England, to be precise, the product of an Irish father, and a mother whose family contains some amount of Franco-Jewish blood. I'm "white", I speak mostly unaccented English. I am what most people think of, I suspect, when they think of "Britain."
So, what do I think of when I hear the phrase "British values?"
I think of the British habit of not taking anything seriously, of making a joke out of even the gravest of situations, of satirising anything we can get our hands on, of understanding important socio-economic and political issues through humour - the cult classic Carry On At Your Convenience, for example, was an attempt to explain the industrial disputes and regular strikes of the heavily-unionised 1970s, while earlier films from the franchise had sought, as Blackadder would also do - somewhat more successfully, in my opinion - to explain historical events. I think of the sarcasm newly arrived Americans sometimes struggle to understand.
I think of village-green cricket, where who wins or loses never seems to matter so much as that the game is played well,and fairly, and everyone - players and spectators - enjoys themselves.
I think of egg-and-veg stands outside rural houses, the trusting "please put money in the box" - and of the fact that there always is roughly the right amount of money in the box - several pound coins, a few handfuls of silver, sometimes, even, the odd five-pound-note that makes you wonder if the person who left it bothered to take their change.
I think of city-street buskers, of people calmly, quietly, and politely watching them play or perform, occasionally throwing money in their coffers.
I think of Monday-morning moans, as we go to work anyway, reliably, dutifully - and always on time.
I think of the way that, however crowded the bus or train is, no one ever speaks to anyone, unless they already know them.
I think of neighbours who've spent ten years or more nodding at each other, but still don't know one another's names.
I think of the way nothing can divide or unite us quite so quickly, violently and completely as football.
This is my Britain, and, looking through this little list, my concept of British values is fair play, polite, pleasant reticence, honesty, and humour. And the need for something to fight over that, at the end of the day, we all know isn't really that important.
None of those values are race, gender, sexuality or ability-dependent; all of them will enable someone to "fit in" much more quickly than knowing what the Magna Carta is, when it was signed, and whether the House of Lords can overrule the House of Commons. (It is the document that separated the State from Royal control, and began the process of what we now understand to be democracy, it was signed in 1215 - I had to look that date up - and no, they can't. These are all sample questions from the "Life in the UK" test, that those applying for residency here are obliged to take.)
When I think of Britain, I think of the bustling markets of the East End of London, a sea of colours, people, produce, accents, and tongues. I think of the soft, burred voices of Somerset and Cornwall, the harsh bark of Essex, and the warm, enveloping hug of Birmingham. I think of sea shanties and rock music, classical symphonies and amateur rappers. I think of footballs streaked with grassy mud, children's voices shouting the order of play. I think of dogs romping on community playing fields, and old men fishing grimy rivers. I think of the sea that's always at our backs, never more than about 70miles away from any point, and I think of the beetling, dark fells of the Lake District. I think of rain, and of suspicions around balmy summers. I think of the tribality of males, which sounds threatening, but, once you're a part of it, is actually friendly and protective.
Nothing in my Britain says "whites only", nothing in my Britain sees any reason why anyone can't belong - I belong, and I don't even like football!
But I can understand the fear that other people, with different values, might drive out our own, in time - after all, Britain has, historically, been very good at stripping away the cultures of countries we invaded, and, to some people, the increasing numbers of non-white faces, of people in the traditional dress of countries known only through the television and newspapers on British streets, may seem like an invasion - and we hold the genetic memory of how badly we behaved during our invading periods. How badly, in fact, we sometimes still behave.
Human beings - all human beings - have an inherent xenophobia, because we were all, at one point in our evolutionary history, tribal beings, with good reasons to be suspicious of those not of our particular tribe - resources, being limited to what could grow or be caught, limited by how far we could go on foot, were scarce, and tribes that crossed another's territory were usually on the lookout for a quick grab of that tribe's resources, to add to their own.
We haven't fully adapted to the reality of plenty; we see money, which can literally be created from thin air, social resources, such as housing, education, and healthcare, which, when used respectfully, honestly, and appropriately, will almost always be enabled to increase to match demand, and jobs, which are an eternally-renewing resource, as capitalism is constantly driven to expand current markets, seek new ones, and commodify things that were never previously "sold", as finite resources which will be "used up" if there are "too many" people. We forget that, unlike in tribal societies, not everyone in contemporary society will be using the same resources at the same time - some people will never have children, for example, so will never use the educational resources. Some people prefer to have private healthcare, so will not use the NHS resources. For every new person who comes into a country from elsewhere, several natives are dying.
In tribal times, we would regularly be engaged in physical battles with other tribes. We would be walking long distances, the work we did would be physically demanding. Perhaps the reason settled societies are so prone to sudden flares of violence is that we have too much energy, and not enough opportunity to use it in a satisfying way - no longer having to fight to defend genuinely limited resources, no longer regularly in actual fear for our lives, our energy builds and builds, until the body sends the brain temporarily insane, and we have to lash out at something, have to let that tribal voice within us have its say.
Muhammad Ali was at once one of the greatest boxers the world has ever known, and a committed pacifist - the prime example of how regular indulgence in acceptable violence better equips an individual for tolerance, peace, and intelligent understanding of their society, its issues, and their place within it.
What Unites Us, What Divides Us
Ashley Ford-McAllister. Photo courtesy of Dan Hans.
To submit to FOREST FIRE, simply email forestfirejournalism@gmail.com , including a photograph of yourself and a brief bio.
Ashley Ford-McAllister is a writer and speaker from Lowestoft, Suffolk, where he lives with his wife and several pets. He enjoys walking, reading, and avoiding people, not always in that order.
"Proudly American."
"Irish to the core."
"Authentically Italian."
These, and many other somewhat jingoistic slogans, are always popular among the "nationalist" and "patriotic" elements of any country - homo sapiens is, after all, still a tribal species at heart, seeking belonging and identity, forging a sense of self in the fires of reliance on external forces.
But how many people, responding with either quiet pride and a knowing nod, or wild, over-the-top, sometimes downright anti-social, applause, really know what their "national identity" looks like?
I'm a mongrel Brit - born in Britain, in England, to be precise, the product of an Irish father, and a mother whose family contains some amount of Franco-Jewish blood. I'm "white", I speak mostly unaccented English. I am what most people think of, I suspect, when they think of "Britain."
So, what do I think of when I hear the phrase "British values?"
I think of the British habit of not taking anything seriously, of making a joke out of even the gravest of situations, of satirising anything we can get our hands on, of understanding important socio-economic and political issues through humour - the cult classic Carry On At Your Convenience, for example, was an attempt to explain the industrial disputes and regular strikes of the heavily-unionised 1970s, while earlier films from the franchise had sought, as Blackadder would also do - somewhat more successfully, in my opinion - to explain historical events. I think of the sarcasm newly arrived Americans sometimes struggle to understand.
I think of village-green cricket, where who wins or loses never seems to matter so much as that the game is played well,and fairly, and everyone - players and spectators - enjoys themselves.
I think of egg-and-veg stands outside rural houses, the trusting "please put money in the box" - and of the fact that there always is roughly the right amount of money in the box - several pound coins, a few handfuls of silver, sometimes, even, the odd five-pound-note that makes you wonder if the person who left it bothered to take their change.
I think of city-street buskers, of people calmly, quietly, and politely watching them play or perform, occasionally throwing money in their coffers.
I think of Monday-morning moans, as we go to work anyway, reliably, dutifully - and always on time.
I think of the way that, however crowded the bus or train is, no one ever speaks to anyone, unless they already know them.
I think of neighbours who've spent ten years or more nodding at each other, but still don't know one another's names.
I think of the way nothing can divide or unite us quite so quickly, violently and completely as football.
This is my Britain, and, looking through this little list, my concept of British values is fair play, polite, pleasant reticence, honesty, and humour. And the need for something to fight over that, at the end of the day, we all know isn't really that important.
None of those values are race, gender, sexuality or ability-dependent; all of them will enable someone to "fit in" much more quickly than knowing what the Magna Carta is, when it was signed, and whether the House of Lords can overrule the House of Commons. (It is the document that separated the State from Royal control, and began the process of what we now understand to be democracy, it was signed in 1215 - I had to look that date up - and no, they can't. These are all sample questions from the "Life in the UK" test, that those applying for residency here are obliged to take.)
When I think of Britain, I think of the bustling markets of the East End of London, a sea of colours, people, produce, accents, and tongues. I think of the soft, burred voices of Somerset and Cornwall, the harsh bark of Essex, and the warm, enveloping hug of Birmingham. I think of sea shanties and rock music, classical symphonies and amateur rappers. I think of footballs streaked with grassy mud, children's voices shouting the order of play. I think of dogs romping on community playing fields, and old men fishing grimy rivers. I think of the sea that's always at our backs, never more than about 70miles away from any point, and I think of the beetling, dark fells of the Lake District. I think of rain, and of suspicions around balmy summers. I think of the tribality of males, which sounds threatening, but, once you're a part of it, is actually friendly and protective.
Nothing in my Britain says "whites only", nothing in my Britain sees any reason why anyone can't belong - I belong, and I don't even like football!
But I can understand the fear that other people, with different values, might drive out our own, in time - after all, Britain has, historically, been very good at stripping away the cultures of countries we invaded, and, to some people, the increasing numbers of non-white faces, of people in the traditional dress of countries known only through the television and newspapers on British streets, may seem like an invasion - and we hold the genetic memory of how badly we behaved during our invading periods. How badly, in fact, we sometimes still behave.
Human beings - all human beings - have an inherent xenophobia, because we were all, at one point in our evolutionary history, tribal beings, with good reasons to be suspicious of those not of our particular tribe - resources, being limited to what could grow or be caught, limited by how far we could go on foot, were scarce, and tribes that crossed another's territory were usually on the lookout for a quick grab of that tribe's resources, to add to their own.
We haven't fully adapted to the reality of plenty; we see money, which can literally be created from thin air, social resources, such as housing, education, and healthcare, which, when used respectfully, honestly, and appropriately, will almost always be enabled to increase to match demand, and jobs, which are an eternally-renewing resource, as capitalism is constantly driven to expand current markets, seek new ones, and commodify things that were never previously "sold", as finite resources which will be "used up" if there are "too many" people. We forget that, unlike in tribal societies, not everyone in contemporary society will be using the same resources at the same time - some people will never have children, for example, so will never use the educational resources. Some people prefer to have private healthcare, so will not use the NHS resources. For every new person who comes into a country from elsewhere, several natives are dying.
In tribal times, we would regularly be engaged in physical battles with other tribes. We would be walking long distances, the work we did would be physically demanding. Perhaps the reason settled societies are so prone to sudden flares of violence is that we have too much energy, and not enough opportunity to use it in a satisfying way - no longer having to fight to defend genuinely limited resources, no longer regularly in actual fear for our lives, our energy builds and builds, until the body sends the brain temporarily insane, and we have to lash out at something, have to let that tribal voice within us have its say.
Muhammad Ali was at once one of the greatest boxers the world has ever known, and a committed pacifist - the prime example of how regular indulgence in acceptable violence better equips an individual for tolerance, peace, and intelligent understanding of their society, its issues, and their place within it.
What Unites Us, What Divides Us
Ashley Ford-McAllister. Photo courtesy of Dan Hans.
To submit to FOREST FIRE, simply email forestfirejournalism@gmail.com , including a photograph of yourself and a brief bio.
Ashley Ford-McAllister is a writer and speaker from Lowestoft, Suffolk, where he lives with his wife and several pets. He enjoys walking, reading, and avoiding people, not always in that order.
Monday, 27 June 2016
Sparking Forest Fire
FOREST FIRE - ONLINE, COMING SOON IN PRINT
BURNING DOWN TO BRING UP.
(Image: Firewx1, courtesy of David Hans.)
Forest fires serve a unique purpose - they burn down the old, thick growth, clearing the way for young shoots, previously choked of light by the thick upper canopy, to burst forth, and create a new landscape in the ashes of the old.
FOREST FIRE intends to do that with journalism - burning down the old growth of manipulation and propaganda, the over-thick canopy of accepted "names" and opinions, and clearing the way for a fresh, vibrant, truthful brand of journalism - a genuinely new media.
We are very keen to hear from writers, photographers and designers who feel they are able to contribute to FOREST FIRE - initially, this will be a voluntary commitment, but we hope to be able to pay our staff within 6mths to a year - in the meantime, we understand that you may not be available regularly, and that's fine - just let us know what you can do, and we'll work within that until we're able to offer you a paid position. (If it helps, I'm not getting a salary or anything from this, either - pure love, that's me! Ed.)
FOREST FIRE, while politically neutral, will not accept racist, homophobic, transphobic, or misogynistic language, although articles that respectfully and intelligently discuss issues around race, immigration, culture, and the LGBTQ community, along with other issues, will always be considered without prejudice. We may very well end up "causing offence" at some point - that tends to happen when you tell the truth, and is necessary for genuine dialogue, that gets all the issues out into the open - but we will NEVER allow any of the work we publish to cause harm.
As well as this blog, which we will aim to update at least weekly, and more often if something of note comes up, we will be publishing a monthly print magazine, available by subscription, with the first issue released on the 28th July. Future issues will always be posted in time to reach subscribers by the 28th of that month. The deadline for articles for the print magazine will be the 21st July, and, thereafter, the 14th of each month.
If you would like to subscribe to the print magazine, payment is £10 for a year's subscription - please pay this by PayPal to forestfirejournalism@gmail.com, and make sure we have your correct address, and the name you would like to receive the magazine under.
forestfirejounalism@gmail.com is also the contact for those interested in working with or submitting to FOREST FIRE - whether that is the blog, the magazine, or both! Whichever you're submitting to, we'll make sure there's a link to your web/social media site/s, so people can follow you and keep up with what you're doing outside of FOREST FIRE. It'd also be great if you could provide a short bio with any articles, photos, etc you send us, so we can tell people a bit about you.
This blog will ALWAYS be free to follow!
FOREST FIRE is run from, and published in, the UK.
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