Playing The Numbers

Employing modern jargon, I need my space. I'm a pacer. People get in my way.

It's not that I don't like people. At least it's not only that.ⁱ And I'm not claustrophobic – at least not in the usual sense. I don't have a phobia, only a need for breathing room. Things have gotten too big for me.

That's a shame. We live in an age of size and numbers. We're reminded of the size issue every time we open our e-mail and look at the spam and find products which I won't discuss. And there are plenty of plastic surgeons who specialize in changing the size of breasts and butts. And lips.

The obsession with numbers, however, seems to be the hallmark of our times. Not just lotto, but everything else as well. Movies and television shows, and the various social networks, are judged by the number of people they attract; sports broadcasting is so filled with statistics that there is no time for anything else – and some of the statistics are so bizarre as to be sillyⁱⁱ; and with modern technology, search engine results are in the tens or hundreds of millions. Numbers are big, and in part that reflects a change in the American (and world) culture, with a fascination for size and records. So all numbers seem to be big.

But the most striking numbers – and, in the end, the most significant – are those related to the “representative” democracy in which we live. When the American Constitution was written,ⁱⁱⁱ note was taken of the need for representatives to be familiar with the people they represented, but in order to limit the size of the House of Representatives they^iv wrote, “The number of representatives shall not exceed one for every 30,000, but each state shall have at least one representative ...”^v That was then. The population right now^vi is 313,397,468 with a net gain of one every fourteen seconds. With 435 member of the House, there are now an average of 720,453.949425287356321...^vii constituents for each congressman.^viii And each district has a variety of neighborhoods and professions. It's likely that the “representative” isn't able to represent much more than himself.^ix

To justify their positions our representatives (or their staffs) write bills, long bills. When the Supreme Court considered health care legislation recently, Justice Scalia commented “(W)hat happened to the Eighth Amendment?^x You really want us to go through these 2,700 pages?^xi And do you really expect the Court to do that? Or do you expect us to — to give this function to our law clerks?”^xii The laws themselves are too long,^xiii and they often are “fleshed out” by regulations whose elaboration by nameless bureaucrats may dwarf the legislation.^xiv

Speaking of “nameless bureaucrats,” as of February, 2010, according to the Employment Situation Summary published by the US Bureau of Labor Statistics, there were 21,292,000 government employees in the United States. That includes the President's eight speech writers.^xv It's likely that the Founding Fathers never anticipated all the complexities we'd create for ourselves.

It's not up to me to decide if a large governmental bureaucracy is good or bad. Both opinions have their adherents. And at a time of high unemployment there's a lot to be said for high government employment, especially in tenured Civil Service positions,^xvi but the risks of an unelected – and to a small degree elected, if unrepresentative – body that makes the rules for us, cannot be overlooked.

As for me, I have more important matters to ponder. Will we have a minyan^xvii tomorrow morning? But whether or not that that's the case – and I certainly hope we'll have enough – I'm sure I'll have enough room to pace. Large numbers are never a problem there.

Next episode: “All The News ... Addendum” -- Journalism. Take 2.

i     I would have made a great hermit. It's nice having someone to talk to, but only when I want to talk. I know it's a selfish attitude, but I like having someone around on my terms. I like to have plenty of room and not to have to pay any attention to anyone unless I feel like it. I realize that such an outlook is intolerable to others and I try to be sociable, but my heart isn't in it.

ii    Like doubles in the fourth inning on a Tuesday.

iii    1787

iv    Actually it was James Madison who wrote it.

v     Article 1, Section 2, Paragraph 3. Do you know that many? I don't know 30,000 people. Maybe they did but I don't. Nonetheless I can understand their view that this “limitation” would be sufficient to ensure proper representation.

vi    April 20, 2012 at 13:48 UTC – according to the US Census Bureau.

vii    The number just keeps going, but by now you've got the point. And parts of people are a little too difficult to conceive (of).

viii    The number just went up.

ix    But he probably does that admirably.

x     Dealing with cruel and unusual punishment.

xi    The Declaration of Independence, which outlined our ideals, and declared our independence and its justification, was about 1,330 words long and the Constitution about 4,500. The Constitution, of course, outlined our entire governmental system, listing the branches, their duties, and the details of our relations with other nations, among other things. The two together could fit in those 2,700 (plus however many thousand pages of pages are needed to clarify the shorthand of the original law) at 2.16 words per page. That's a lot of white space. It seems clear that the health care law is far more important than the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution.

xii    The Justices, though not elected, go through some form of review by the Senate; the clerks, however, are not in any way representative of the people.

xiii   And there are far too many of them, with the Federal government often taking over areas which the signers of the Constitution intended as the responsibility of the states.

xiv    “If you have ten thousand regulations you destroy all respect for the law.” – Winston Churchill

xv     I wonder how many George Washington had.

xvi    Whoever is elected, irrespective of which party, regulations will be written by these people, and will reflect their views and prejudices. To a degree this ensures stability, but the rules they write may not reflect the wishes of the legislators or their constituents.

xvii    The ten men needed for some parts of the Jewish religious service.

Knowing The Unknowable

I often think about those I cannot think about.

I cannot think about them because I don't know them. I see people on the street walking alone, or talking to each other; I see people who are clearly unhappy or who are happy, people deep in thought, and those singing silently to the music being piped into their ears by some electronic device; or I see people who are apparently talking to themselves. Perhaps they are. Perhaps they are what, in less “sensitive” times, we used to call crazy, or perhaps they are talking on telephones that I just don't see.

I wonder about them. I don't know them and they don't know me. We live in different worlds, and I shall never know them.

Those are the ones I see. But there are billions whom I shall never encounter. Most of them live in circumstances I would never be able to endure. It's easier not to think about them. But I do. I wonder about their lives and like to think that they are as happy as I – living in a world that is familiar to them, and not giving much thought to the lives led by others of whom they have little comprehension, and in whom they have no interest.

And there are uncountable numbers who lived and died long ago – centuries and millennia. I don't remember my own ancestors, people I never knew even if I heard stories about some of them. I certainly don't remember all the others. No one does. The nameless ones – the ancestors of those living or of no one now alive – whose days ended long before ours started. A few are remembered because of some great accomplishment, but for each of them there are millions who are long forgotten.

It is part of Jewish tradition to remember the dead. We say Kaddish for them on their yahrzeits, the anniversary of their deaths. We light candles for them – the flames resurrecting the souls who have left us. And we do so again four times a year when we recite the Yizkor service, a service devoted to the remembrance of our relatives and our friends and those who have died as martyrs or soldiers for our people. We remember them and we make contributions in their memory as a kind of bribe – a deal with G-d that they receive favorable treatment in exchange for our gift. In a similar manner, we pray for the sick. We believe that in some way those prayers may be answered by G-d with the recovery of the one for whom we plead. In the hope that the greater the number of prayers the greater the chance of success, we appeal to others to join us.

But it doesn't seem fair, at least not as far as human understanding permits us to understand fairness. Who remembers the generations that preceded us – the countless souls that are no more? Will I be forgotten by G-d when, after I have died, there is no one left to say Kaddish for me? What is the fate of the childless? And is your recovery from illness more likely if there are many who include you in their prayers? Is a return of good health more uncertain if no one petitions on your behalf? Does you fate have anything to do with you or are you totally dependent on others? And if you have no others?

There are more questions than answers. There always have been. Although some will offer justifications for apparent inequities, often with an aura of confidence that does not appear to reflect reality, we're left with a world in which there is more suffering than we want to think about. So we don't think about it. We know that we can't end that suffering, no matter what we do.

But we can't do nothing, even if we can't solve the world's problems. It may be easier to accept the cynical position that our efforts will be useless, but none of us has the right to throw our hands up in the air and make no effort to help someone else. However small our contribution, it is our obligation to try to improve the lot of others, including those we don't know. Especially those we don't know, for there is probably no one looking after them or remembering them.

But whether time or money, whether local or international, it's probably worth the effort to help and to remember. I say “probably” because no one knows ultimate consequences – mundane or divine. Maybe it will help, now or in the future. Maybe not. Things don't always turn out as we'd wish, but ignorance, isolationism, and inaction cannot be justified. If we didn't know it already, the Holocaust taught that lesson. As Burke is reputed to have said, “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.” And all that is necessary for those who once lived, and for those who live and suffer now, to be forgotten is for good men and women to do nothing. Whether we can accomplish something or not, we have to try; we have to remember those who might be lost to memory, and act on behalf of those in need. We have to think about those whose existence is almost impossible to imagine, and try to do something. Maybe we'll succeed.

We can only hope.

Next episode: “Playing The Numbers” -- Size matters.

 

Don't Worry, Be Happy

What can you do when science and belief are contradictory? There are few choices. You can compartmentalize – accept the idea that both have merit but they have nothing to do with each other; you can make them both parts of a larger system – using one to explain its apparent antagonist; or you can discard one in favor of the other – at least for the subject being considered.

Among models for each choice are the acceptance of miracles in an otherwise scientifically ruled world; the idea that evolution was part of the system of creation and the “days” of creation were actually periods; or the earth is not the center of the universe, not withstanding Church doctrine. There is room, though, for discussion and sometimes even compromise.

Not so science and politics. Politics is a world that can only countenance complete domination. There is no option to compromiseⁱⁱ or to take prisoners. It seems to be a belief system that is stronger than religion. It may be possible to accept the idea that there are other religions and their views are valid for their adherents, but if someone disagrees with your political opinions he's a fool. And if his science says something other than yours – if it supports a political view divergent from the one you hold – it is “junk science,” and not worthy of discussion or compromise.

The problem with scientists is that they're human.ⁱⁱⁱ They have all the faults, prejudices, and agendas of the rest of us. And while we may want to believe that the “science” they produce is objective and free of their personal biases, that belief is not scientific. It is not rational. Thus we look for confirmation; we demand that all results be reproducible and that others testing the same theory come up with the same conclusion.

But scientists do have agendas.^iv And the questions they choose to answer – the ones they study – are often based on those agendas and their desire to support their beliefs.^v Or, sometimes, the wish to disprove the claims of those who disagree with them. Whether taxes, medical care, or water pollution, there are numerous numerous studies to support any political view you held before looking at the science. (And it is that kind of determination to make a point that animates other political opinions as well. It's an open secret that the Nobel Peace Prize Committee favors those whose actions support whatever political position they support – especially one that opposes the United States or war or, preferably, both.^vi)

One of the best current examples of the conflict between science and political belief is the vituperative debate over global warming. Those who promote the concept as proof of man's desecration of the earth, and as the cause of a predictable end of the world as we know it, warn us of these dire consequences unless we take immediate action in mending our ways. There has been a rise in the earth's temperature, in the human production of carbon dioxide (CO₂), and in the level of the oceans. We are the cause of our own destruction and if we don't stop burning fossil fuels and lower the levels of CO₂ in our atmosphere, we shall surely compromise the environment we are leaving to our children.

Their adversaries, however, maintain that the weather, and its effects, result from regular cycles affecting the earth, rather from any action taken by mankind. They contend that past geological records demonstrate episodes of “global warming,” like that existing at present, to have occurred on many occasions in the past. And the studies they cite show that CO₂ levels have been elevated on many occasions in the past – long before people or human production of the gas – and they don't correlate at all with temperature elevations. Not only that, higher temperatures will increase agricultural yields.  Don't wrorry.  Be happy.

The two sides attribute the most unscrupulous of motives to each other and freely dispense accusations of “cherry-picked” studies which are scientifically invalid. Opponents of what they consider hysteria, claim that warming is an inevitable event, and since the actions we are currently taking are not the cause, ceasing them is not the solution. Proponents of a human authorship of global warming tell us that those who oppose them are industrialists who will profit from the sale and use of fossil fuels, and the use of processes that elevate environmental CO₂. Both sides tell us that the warming will continue, but neither sees any truth in the position of the other, nor even concedes any honesty or good will on the part of those who hold a contrary view. Both will tell us that their perspective is the only correct one.^vii Indeed, if CO₂ levels fall but the temperature continues to rise, it will be used as proof that we waited too long and doom is inevitable. And if both rise, it will be proof that elevated CO₂ causes temperature elevations. After all, post hoc, propter hoc.

How can we test the different views? Computer models? After all, computers have no political point of view. But the people who design the programs and input the data, do. So the likelihood is that both sides will be able to provide computer models to prove their existing positions. Shall we put our trust in the scientific “majority,” if that can be determined? There is hazard in accepting the received wisdom, even from scientists. It is too severely restricted by their own and local biases. As I noted earlier, scientists are human, very much like the rest of us. And scientific “truth” depends on where you live and your society's views. There was a time in some areas when acquired characteristics were claimed by the scientists in favor to be heritable. And there was a time when phlogiston was accepted by the scientific community. Even respected scientists are capable of error, sometimes caused by current opinion and politics. And since lesser scientists often follow the lead of the “experts,” numbers are suspect.

So what is the solution? I don't know. It's not something we can test since we have no comparable laboratory to earth. It may take a few centuries before any reliable answer is determined. In the meantime, I suppose, the best we can do is split the difference – make reasonable cuts in fuel usage even if we're not convinced they'll help. We'll have to recognize that the information available is less than certain, and be careful not to overdo it since it would be counterproductive to harm the industries that have made modern life possible. In the meantime, it's likely that things will heat up more – both the science and the rhetoric – although it's not clear that is bad or preventable. So just lean back and enjoy what we have.

Next episode: “Knowing The Unknowable” – It's not who(m) you know, and it's certainly not what you know.

i     Even if it's not often

ii    Consequently we have legislative gridlock – not that it's altogether bad.

iii   Those who see science as the final answer to all questions (though the answer may change, as was the fate of the belief in alchemy) may have turned scientists into demigods, but, in reality, that is not the case.

iv   Apart from what they list on disclosure forms which document what they may have received from interested parties.

v     Or those who pay them.

vi  Belief also motivates vindictive literary discourse. A supporter of the Earl of Oxford, for example, is completely unable to understand why some attribute “his” works to Shakespeare.  

Similarly, other prejudices, as exemplified by racism or religious hatred, are not susceptible to rational dispute, only to sophistry and historical revisionism. Too many, for example, deny the overwhelming evidence of the Holocaust and demand the opportunity to “prove” that it never happened. And too many, for purposes of propaganda, equate murder and suicide with virtues. Belief conquers reason.

vii    In fact, my perspective is the only correct one. And I don't know what it is.

People Are No Damn Good

Perhaps I'm not the best person to discuss this. I'm a loner.ⁱ I don't like talking to people and it's even worse when they talk to me. It's true I'm a doctor, but I went into Radiology and all I had to do was look at pictures. Of course I had to speak with other doctors, but that was usually kept at a minimum because they weren't all that interested in what I had to say. They didn't need help from anyone – especially someone who looked at pictures all day and didn't talk to patients.

Anyway, it won't be a surprise to learn that I don't have a Facebook page. And I don't Twitter. Or chirp. I hate cocktail parties and I avoid small talk whenever possible.ⁱⁱ Why speak to someone who hasn't the slightest interest in what I have to say. Especially if I haven't the slightest interest in what he has to say either. His questions are formulas – conversation starters – and he doesn't even hear or care about the answers. However the questions form a platform for engagement, and for the spouting of whatever inanities that he pretends to have originated.ⁱⁱⁱ And you've certainly figured out that I hate shopping. There are people there. And I have to try things on in an ill-equipped dressing room. It's easier to shop at home, using the internet.^iv

Consonant with these preferences, I don't have a cellular telephone, iPod, or other mobile device. I had a pager before I retired, but people knew better than to try to get me, so it was usually quiet. And it was always off “after hours.” When I didn't want to be disturbed, I didn't want to be disturbed. And when I was willing to take calls, there was always my land line, without gadgets.^v

Having established my credentials, I'd like to tell you a little more about why I don't like people. This is in addition to what you can infer from the information about myself that I've already given.

First of all, people are inconsiderate. No one pays any attention to a schedule^vi except to use it as a starting point after they've decided that they want to be fifteen minutes, or a half hour, or an hour late. No one wants to come on time. They may be first, and that's awkward. So if they're late for the performance of a play, don't be surprised to see them walking in front of you as they go to their seats during the first act.

And irrespective of the announcements that they should turn their cellular telephones off, it's likely that several will go off during the performance. Whether people ignore it and let it ring, sheepishly turn it off, talk aloud, or walk out in front of you depends on their mood. Good luck.

On the rare occasion that I attend a social event with a smörgåsbord or buffet I find that the food is gone before I can get anywhere near the table. The vultures have already attacked and laid waste to the fare before they allow anyone else to approach the board. It's my own fault for being polite.

I've also come to the conclusion – and it's hardly an original one – that people are only interested in themselves, and they resent anyone else's achievements. (No. They're eager to tell you of the accomplishments of their children or grandchildren.^vii A grandchild's B+ on a spelling test is more than enough reason to interrupt someone talking about the speech he gave on receiving a Nobel Prize.) While they glory in someone else being arrested for income tax fraud, they give thanks that they weren't caught. And if a friend is pleased about a low price he found for something, the first reply will be that he overpaid and it's cheaper at _____.^viii  

And people are whiners. No half-full glasses. They're all completely empty. And it's someone else's fault. No one ever does anything wrong himself, but the other guy, … Someone should be sued. And someone will. You have to make them pay. Especially companies with deep pockets. They're not going to miss the money and no one you know will be involved. So you won't feel guilty. In fact you'll feel good if you make anything off those suckers.

I should add that people are also stupid. They throw money around on iPads (and the associated telephone plans), latte, new cars, and all the latest styles and fads. They go to expensive movies, even though they've invested in fancy home theaters with massive screens and expensive high-end television packages. Using the new GPS, they drive to places to which they could walk, especially expensive restaurants. Then, of course, they pay others to get them out of debt, and they fault those with more money than they.

Are my opinions too harsh? You can ignore them if you choose, but what I'm saying is the Truth. You disagree? Well you're wrong. And I'm not interested in your views anyway.

No question about it. I would have made a good monk.

Next episode: “Don't Worry, Be Happy” – If it's good enough for Bobby McFerrin, it's good enough for me.

i        Employing modern jargon, I need my space. I'm a pacer. People get in my way. It's not that I don't like people. At least it's not only that. And I'm not claustrophobic – at least not in the usual sense. I don't have a phobia, only a need for breathing room. I would have made a great hermit. It's nice having someone to talk to, but only when I want to talk. I know it's a selfish attitude, but I like having someone around on my terms. I like to have plenty of room, and not to have to pay any attention to anyone unless I feel like it. I realize that such an outlook is intolerable to others and I try to be sociable, but my heart isn't in it.

ii     And nothing is smaller than conversation at one of those torture sessions.

iii     I don't like people “in my face,” either figuratively or, as is so often the case at a crowded social occasion, literally. Too often the person spouting is also spitting.

iv    Yes. I know that's not really anonymous.  They'll know who I am, but a machine is better than people.

v     You may have the idea that I'm a Luddite, but that's not the case. I haven't broken anything all day.

vi    Or to an appointment. Or if it's an event that has food at the end, they come just in time for the food.

vii    Where would the refrigerator industry be without grandchildren. There would be no pictures to mount and no one to stand in front of the open box trying to figure out what will be good.

viii   Somewhere else. Anywhere else. Just to put you down.