Geeks and Nerds

According to Wikipedia the term "geek" originally came from "circus geeks," sideshow attractions who attract audiences by swallowing live animals or biting off their heads. Evidently Ozzy was taking notes. Evidently the connection was bridging by viewing people who were overly obsessed by technology as akin to circus freaks and hence deserving of social scorn.

Obviously this has changed. The closest I've come to true geekdom is my SF fandom. But if someone were to call me a geek I would regard it more as a term of approval than as an insult. Like many other pejorative names it has been more or less adopted by techie obsessives as signifying those who are curious and knowledgeable about science and technology.

What is interesting is that the migration in meaning seems to mirror changes in society. I think if you were to call someone a nerd you still mean to imply a tendency towards social awkwardness. Certainly no one who is particularly skilled social would be a nerd--at least not outwardly. But I don't think this implication holds any longer for "geek." So much of our interaction with other people is or can be online that many geeks are in fact much more socially competent than more ordinary types. And perhaps more importantly, part of the social stigma originally associated with these terms was because most people thought of these techie or intellectual interests as peripheral to ordinary life. However, with the increasing importance of computers and the Internet in the economy, the job market, entertainment, and communication a basic understanding of these technologies has become necessary for almost everyone. Thus people value the interests of geeks more than they used to. This is no doubt why the term "nerd" still holds most of its original meaning--there has not been a corresponding rise in interest in bookish or purely intellectual pursuits.

Of course, it is possible that my understanding of the common usage of these terms is inaccurate. The people I know are those who would tend to be more sympathetic to the interests of geeks and nerds.

Taking responsibility

I watched Gonzales's Senate testimony on C-SPAN on Wednesday, and like most (even Republicans), was distinctly underwhelmed. As seems common when Gonzales has to defend his own actions, or the actions of the DoJ, or the administration, he relied heavily on catchphrases and slogans. One that I found particularly irksome this time was his repeated insistence that he "takes full responsibility" for the U.S. Attorney firings.

Soundbites like this can be annoying. They often oversimplify complex policies or act as code words to insult our political opponents. But, they still generally maintain a modicum of meaning. Gonzales tried to go even further in this case. He seems aware that as the head of the Dept. of Justice he is responsible for major decisions such as firing these attorneys and so repeated it several times. However, he seems to think this is merely a verbal formula, something to say, like "I'm sorry," rather than an actual acknowledgement and acceptance of consequences.

The point is that claiming responsibility for an action means that you are admitting your culpability, i.e. that you are willing to accept the consequences for that action. But that is exactly what Gonzales was trying to avoid in his testimony. He admits this entire brouhaha was poorly handled, but is not willing to do take what would seem to be the appropriate response in stepping down from his position.

After all, what would "taking responsibility" mean for Gonzales? That he apologizes? That he offers these positions back to the fired attorneys? That he change how he runs the DoJ? Well, in a normal situation we would say that taking responsibility would mean doing what you can to fix the problem you created. In this case, the problem created by Gonzales was a loss of confidence by the public and the Congress in the competence and impartiality of those running the DoJ. He can solve that problems--by either resigning or explaining in a manner transparent to all how there was nothing improper in his firings. Since he has been unable to do the second, for him to do as he claims he is in "taking responsibility," he must resign. Otherwise, his claim that he is "taking responsibility remains almost entirely content-free.

When Christians wonder why atheists aren't more like Christians.

It's been awhile, but I think I'm back. It seems like everyone has to weigh in on the VaTech tragedy, and inevitably that means that some people are going to say some silly things. Dinesh D'Souza is one such , opining shortly after the shooting that atheism is worthless in dealing with the emotional fallout from tragedies of this sort. There are many things to disagree with in his post, such as his assumption that statements made by one atheistic scientist are representative of atheists in general (nothing against the estimable Mr. Dawkins, but atheists were originally called "freethinkers" for a reason) and his egregious oversimplification of atheist responses to the problems surrounding human meaning and purpose in the universe, which are by no means unique to atheism.

However, I'm willing to agree with him that it would be crass for an atheist to respond to human tragedy by attempting to convince theists of atheism. After all, atheists generally claim that we should try to arrive at our beliefs about the existence of a deity on the basis of reasoned argument. It is difficult in the immediate aftermath of such tragedies to sufficiently distance ourselves from our emotional responses to fairly deal with the evidence of the case.

This shows the silliness of D'Souza's post. He claims the VaTech shooting is an example of a "problem of evil" for the atheist--that they are unable to provide comfort in the aftermath of tragedy. But the obvious reason for this so-called inability is that most people in the U.S. are not atheists. Of course a theist is not going to want to deal with rejecting a core belief after losing a friend, classmate, or child. Of course they will look for comfort in the system of belief they already accept. But this says nothing about atheism. After all, we also generally don't invite Hindu monks or Muslim imams to speak at these events. But yet they are not (usually) atheists. We don't do this for the simple reason that most people in the U.S. are neither Muslim nor Hindu. So there is nothing unique in atheism not having representatives at VaTech to comfort the community. This no more shows the inability of atheism to comfort the grieving victims of a tragedy than it shows the inability of, say, Zen Buddhism. What it really going on here is our tendency to look for comfort in the familiar--which for most Americans is Christianity, but could as easily be Jewish, or existentialist, or Jainist depending on where you live.

As further evidence against D'Souza's claim, and I suspect this is true for most atheists, I find it annoying when a theist tries to comfort me by talking about God or by telling me that he will pray for me. I would rather talk to Dawkins than Dobson about the real meaning of human tragedy. I can forgive them this as I know they are generally well-meaning and this is often the only way they know how to communicate their sympathy for my plight. But it still seems crass and manipulative when someone takes advantage of a painful episode in my life to preach at me.

It seems that D'Souza is unable to find atheism when these awful things happen because atheists have a quality that he should consider emulating: respect for other people's beliefs in times of tragedy.

Update: Fixed the broken link.

Sincere politicians?

It really is unfortunate that we already have presidential hopefuls campaigning for the next election. Presidential campaigns can be interesting at times, and can spark useful debates, but the personality obsessions that usually accompany them are both tiresome and pointless. Instead of discussing real political policies and how to implement them we are treated to the real or perceived impressions of reporters, pundits, and friends (and now bloggers) of the character of the president. As if any of them are in a position to opine on such a topic.

One of the most pernicious characteristics of this species of discourse is the attempt to determine the sincerity of a candidate's statements. Reporters, and bloggers often dig up old statements from prior campaigns and speeches where he argued (or perhaps even voted) for the opposite of what he is now saying. Now, as a matter of pure politics I can see the usefulness of highlighting insincerity. We prefer the candidate we support to be completely sincere in her statements--generally because we support her for those statements and we do sincerely believe them.

But should we? There are serious problems with worrying about the sincerity of politicians. First, and most obviously, is the epistemological. How do we tell when a politician is being sincere? After all, since sincerity is a selling point most candidates will try to present themselves as really believing what they say. And it turns out that the best (or at least easiest) way to do this is to act as if you really do believe it. Thus, it doesn't really matter whether you really think Roe v. Wade should be overturned if you still work to overturn it. And any Republican president who runs as a social conservative will try to appoint only judges that are consistent with this claim, regardless of what he actually believes.

Well, what about those cases where a president says he believes in something, but then does nothing about it? Isn't that a sign that he wasn't sincere in his statements? If someone is truly against, say, criminalizing drug use, won't she do much more than the insincere politician? This might be true, but I would have to see evidence before I will be convinced. There are many reasons why politicians don't vote or support or work for things they claim to believe in. Only one of them might be because they are lying (and as I said above it is not clear that lying about this is even a very common reason for this lack of support). It seems more common might be the exact same reasons why those politicians who do support it are also unable to do anything. Consider gay marriage. Does it really matter what actual beliefs a Republican has? Almost all Republicans politicians are forced to disavow support for gay equality. Similarly with Democrats--they can say they are against gay marriage, but they have to come out in favor of civil unions. Does it matter what they actually believe? Won't their behavior be the same?

Finally, it is not even clear to me why we should want a politician that really does believe everything she says. After all, the candidates we support are campaigning for our votes on the basis that he will represent us, what we would prefer, in Washington. In a functioning democracy the elected leaders will be responsive to the desires of the people they claim to represent. Thus, even if he doesn't believe in something he can still sincerely work for it if he feel it is what is wanted by those he is working for. I would be more interested in a candidate's ability to do this, to act as a true public servant rather than a sincere ruler.

Life soundtrack

I was listening to Godspeed You! Black Emperor when I got on the bus this morning, just before that part of Lift your skinny fists like antennas to heaven! when the preacher starts talking about his vision and there was this black man who was doing the same--the entire time I was on the bus--except he was he was very much not a Christian exhorter. Duelling apolocalypses.

Is Rudy an asshole?

I suppose it's a sign of how much I've changed that it is Feb. of the year before the election and I'm already beginning to think about the candidates. I used to complain if I had to pay attention before September of the even years. Thanks 9/11.

But I am a bit older now, and hopefully a little more thoughtful about politics and especially who I should support politically. When I was 20 I voted by comparing the three candidates on a list of about a dozen political issues I cared about to see who agreed with me the most and (oh the shame) some kind of intangible "honesty" and "sincerity" in presentation. Yes, I voted for Nader.

Since then I've eschewed the political evaluation based on the character of the candidate. It relies too much on how the media chooses to present certain candidates. Do I really think that Al Gore is "wooden"? How the fuck should I know? Yet that was the image I was given by the MSM during 2000. More significantly, there was the meme that we should vote for Bush because he would be great to have a beer with. I don't know if people actually voted for him for this reason, but the media certainly thought that they would. And somehow these things seem to become self-fulfilling prophecies.

The point is that I've become distrustful of any attempt to sway me on the quality of a candidate for political office on the basis of character. That is why I'm not sure how to respond to the recent flux of articles in the liberal blogosphere on how Rudy Guiliani is so very autocratic and thin-skinned. It seems like this is just another way of saying that we wouldn't enjoy having a beer with Rudy.

But the real problem is this: it ends up that Bush's "character," or even more important, Cheney's character is important. That the reason we created this disaster in Iraq is a result of their character. But as someone who will never meet them, how am I supposed to know what they are like except by what the media tells me? And this when I don't trust the media? I don't know.

via The Guardian, here's Auden on Fitzgerald:

"I've been reading This Side of Paradise. Chester gave it to me. Those long conversations between the Princeton man and his girl. One simply can't believe that he cared for her in the least. All American writing gives the impression that Americans don't care for girls at all. What the American male really wants is two things: he wants to be blown by a stranger while reading a newspaper and he wants to be fucked by his buddy when he's drunk. Everything else is society."