Technology: Troublemaker or Therapist? By Ashley Ford-McAllister

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.

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.)

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.

 

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.

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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.