Tag: pandemic

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On Fixing Stupidity: Replace Dumb Ideas with Critical Thinking

Fresno Bee, September 5, 2021

Dr. Rais Vohra, Fresno County’s interim health officer, warned this week of an “information pandemic.   He said, people who are “infected by viral misinformation” need to “inoculate themselves with the truth.” 

We are plagued by misinformation, disinformation, and outright stupidity.  Mis-information is mistaken information.  It is not necessarily malicious.  Dis-information is worse.  It is basically a lie.  Disinformation is a malicious attempt to make you believe something that is not true.  And stupidity?  Well, it’s a failure of intelligence.  But it is not only a mental malfunction.  Stupidity also involves actively embracing false and pernicious ideas.

The doctor was calling out people who are reluctant to get the Covid-19 vaccine because of false information.  Almost half of the population of Fresno County remains unvaccinated.  There is also the problem of people poisoning themselves with ivermectin, a horse de-wormer. 

This is dismaying but not surprising.  History is full of terrible ideas and epidemics of stupidity.  Not long ago, kids were eating Tide pods and teenagers were stuffing their mouths with ground cinnamon.  Even worse was smoking, a stupid habit that caused long-term health problems for millions of people. 

The good news is that people usually wise up.  The bad news is that advertisers and propagandists are always working to spread more stupidity.  Ideas are contagious.  They circulate and propagate.  Some catch on.  Some die out.  This is true for all ideas—good ones and bad ones. 

Stupidity has a tendency to attract our attention because it is ridiculous.  It can also cause us to lose faith in humanity.  It is not only the absurdity of dumb ideas that bothers us.  We are also alarmed by the strange sense of certainty that stupid people seem to have.

We may worry that our own beliefs may be just as stupid.  This can prompt a crisis of faith.  As Shakespeare said, the fool thinks himself wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.

Cynics worry that bad ideas are more easily spread than good ones.  But this is not true.  Bad ideas only spread when the intellectual immune system is weak.  And good ideas can be reinforced through conscious effort.

It is disheartening to know that stupidity is contagious.  But we know the cure.  Social distancing helps.  We should isolate dumb ideas and prevent them from proliferating.  The long-term solution is the vaccination we call education.  Education strengthens the intellectual immune system.

The campaign against smoking provides an example of a successful approach.  People were taught that smoking was unhealthy.  Smoking was prohibited in public places.  And taxes were levied on tobacco products.  It took decades, but smoking declined.  In the 1950’s, 45% of Americans smoked.  These days the number is around 15%.

As we fret about the recent plague of stupidity, let’s celebrate the fact that many good ideas have caught on.  And some very bad ideas have died out.  Slavery was abolished.  Women were liberated.  Old superstitions and stereotypes have faded away along with the idea that smoking is cool. 

Technology and culture play a role in all of this.  Human culture is a process of spreading ideas.  We gossip and talk, exchanging stories and information.  In the old days this occurred slowly through face-to-face interactions among friends and family. 

Electronic communication is faster and more volatile.  Memes and trends explode overnight.  Robots and artificial intelligence manipulate the cyber-ecosystem.  They target us with advertising, including misinformation and disinformation. 

The bad news is that misinformation and disinformation can spread quickly in cyberspace.  The good news is that the truth is also out there and is often easy to find.  But we need to be educated about where to look and how to distinguish the truth from a lie.  That’s called information literacy and critical thinking.

It’s not true, as a folksy proverb puts it, that “you can’t fix stupid.”  Nobody really believes that cynical proverb.  Educators and coaches certainly don’t.  And experience teaches us that stupidity can be fixed.  It takes practice and discipline to overcome intellectual laziness and ignorance.  But we can make progress.  This is a lifelong project.  People make mistakes.  But we can learn from our mistakes.  And we can build up an immunity to dumb ideas.

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Amateurs, Morons, and Professionals

There’s an ironic critique of amateurs in The Big Lebowski. Walter (played by John Goodman) keeps complaining about “f***ing amateurs.”  But Walter is an amateur.   He is a caricature of the great American “do-it-yourself” ethos. 

He claims that other people don’t know what they are doing.  But neither does he.  And so Walter keeps f***ing things up.

Some things ought to be left to the professionals.  A professional has specialized training, lots of experience, and a certain talent or skill.  But Americans distrust professionals.  We think that since we are all created equal, we should be able to do-it-ourselves.

Our suspicion of professionalism has some connection with Trumpism, the anti-vax movement, and the American distrust of science.  Professionals are elites.  But we don’t like elites.  We’d rather diagnose our own diseases and interpret the data for ourselves.  We think we are smarter than the doctors, the scientists, and the “mainstream media.”

As we’ve seen, this can lead to disaster.

The conflict between professionalism and amateurism is an ancient one.  Plato criticized democracy as a rule of amateurs.  According to Plato, this is a terrible idea.  Plato’s ideal republic is a nation run by professionals.  He describes a rigorous training method for selecting the rulers.  And he suggests that tyrants have not successfully completed the program.

Tyrants are the worst of the amateurs.  The etymology of the word “amateur” gives us a clue.  The root of the word is “love” (ama-).  Tyrants love power.  But they don’t want to develop the skill, virtue, and expertise necessary to rule.  They grab power without training themselves in wielding it wisely. 

This is not to suggest that all amateurs are tyrants.  There is something admirable about a dedicated amateur.  Amateurs do things because they love them.  They are not in it for the money or the fame.  But a virtuous amateur understands that some things ought to be left to the professionals. 

Things have changed quite a bit in recent decades when it comes to the difference between amateurs and professionals.  The Olympics, for example, used to ban professional athletes.  And while amateur athletes are inspiring, the pros are better.

In some fields, the professionals have been kicked to the curb.  In other fields, increased specialization makes it impossible for amateurs to survive.  Often this is about money: who makes it, who controls it, and where it flows.

At one time, Youtube was a place for amateurs to share videos.  But Youtube went commercial and the professionals staged a comeback, elbowing out the amateurs in pursuit of advertising revenue. 

Similar struggles have played out in other corners of the economy.  Ride-sharing apps like Uber compete with professional cab drivers.  Airbnb circumvents the professionals at Hyatt and Hilton.  Amazon allows self-published authors to reach a wide audience.  And so on.

Each of these stories is complicated.  In some cases, the rise of the amateurs has allowed for an outburst of creative entrepreneurship.  In other cases, you end up with crappy self-published books and weird cars driving you around town.

There is also lots of confusion about what’s true, what’s real, and what’s beneficial.  The Covid-19 debacle shows us what’s at stake.  Rather than trust the scientists, the amateurs are playing doctor. 

Early in the pandemic, non-experts claimed that Covid-19 was no worse than an ordinary cold or flu.  Then the amateurs doubted professional advice about masks and social distancing.  And now the non-professionals are skeptical of vaccines.  Meanwhile, the pandemic rages on.

Plato was right that in an ideal world we’d put the professionals in charge.  But in a democratic country that values individual liberty, the amateurs will resist.  The solution is better education.  But that’s a long-term and ongoing solution. In the meantime, we’re left with a mess. 

At one point in The Big Lebowski, the Dude (Jeff Bridges) says to Walter: “Walter, I love you, but sooner or later, you’re going to have to face the fact you’re a goddamn moron.” This is us. Let’s face the fact that we are a bunch of amateurs and morons, mucking things up. What’s not to love?

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Drought, Fire, and Traffic: Lessons from Yosemite

Fresno Bee, August 1, 2021

Half Dome is as sublime as ever. But it presides over a valley where California’s drought is obvious. When I visited Yosemite this past week, the Merced River was barely flowing. Vernal Falls was a trickle. And Yosemite Falls was a dry dribble. We’re running out of water, folks.

If you drive to Shaver Lake, you see another warning about our hot, dry future. Last year’s fire left a scorched and desolate landscape. A few green shoots are returning. Forests are resilient. But their resilience is measured in decades. The forest will not return in my lifetime.

Our grandchildren will inherit a world of drought, fire, and heat. The climate is changing. The American West is drying up, including the mighty Colorado. As the land dries out, the fires will be worse.

Last week in this column, I talked about the “tragedy of the commons.” When we fail to cooperate, we end up with bad outcomes. This happens with regard to vaccines and masks. The drought provides another worrying example.

The California Water Resources Control Board met recently to consider cutbacks on water allocations. If the state imposes restrictions, they will be unpopular. Farmers will protest, as will back-yard gardeners.

The pandemic has shown that scarcity breeds polarization and conflict. In lean times, people get grumpy.

The good news is that we can learn to do better. It is easy to single out the anti-mask, anti-vax crowd. But the majority of people educated themselves and did the right thing.

Environmental issues will require similar cooperative evolution. Those of us who grew up in a cooler, wetter world will resent the restrictions of the hot future. But our grandchildren will be better at this than we are. They will have no other choice.

Spiritual and ethical evolution will be needed in a world where lots of people are competing for scarce water. If we don’t learn to cooperate, things will get worse.

A recent change in Yosemite provides a bit of hope. These days you need a reservation to visit the park. The reservation system is a response to pandemic social-distancing. They say it is only temporary. But it has solved Yosemite’s long-standing overcrowding problem.

When I visited Yosemite in May, before the reservation system started, it was impossible to park. The trails were packed. The traffic barely moved. Yosemite’s epic traffic is another example of the tragedy of the commons. When there are no limits on cars, there is gridlock, and everyone suffers.

When I visited recently after making a reservation, it was much better. The traffic was light. Parking was easy. The trails were uncrowded.

Of course, the reservation requirement is a pain. You can’t take a spontaneous trip to Yosemite anymore. In the old days, you could hike up Half Dome whenever you wanted. Now you need a reservation just to drive into the park.

It’s not hard to imagine a future where a visit to Yosemite always requires a reservation. Grumpy old timers will grouse and complain. For those of us who grew up with free and easy access, this stinks. But we will adapt, if we understand that these restrictions and limitations are in everyone’s interest.

There are reasons to hope. Human beings can learn and improve. This is a slow process. And meaningful change often only comes at the last minute. But we can evolve and respond with intelligence and compassion.

Scarcity can fuel the growth of elitism and inequality. This is why compassion and justice are needed. The reservation system makes it harder for working-class people to enjoy Yosemite. A similar problem holds for water and other resources. Rich people can buy their way out of scarcity, while poor people suffer.

Again, the pandemic provides an example. Wealthy professionals profited from low interest rates, a real estate boom, and jobs that allow telecommuting. It was poor and working-class people who suffered the worst impacts of the pandemic.

Let’s learn from that. As we respond to a hot, dry future, we must avoid exacerbating inequality. Rich people should not be allowed to cut the line or consume more than the rest of us. Water is a common good. And everyone should have access to majestic places like Yosemite.

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Patient Advice for Living in Limbo

Fresno Bee, October 18, 2020

We are living in limbo. The pandemic rages on. The election hangs before us like a double-edged sword. We don’t know when or how this will end. We hold our breath, while COVID-19 haunts our dreams.

Election years typically end in limbo, with lame ducks and lost causes. This year, we have the added anxiety of a president claiming the election is rigged, while calling for his opponents to be jailed. The nation is worried about election unrest and violence.

Life in limbo is characterized by worry, impatience, dread, and despair. Picture the anxiety of waiting for the results of a cancer test. The answer comes as a relief, even if it is bad news. It is better to know than to wait.

Limbo is a haunted hovering. Time spent in limbo is nonlinear. Limbo is a gateway. But once we cross the threshold we get lost. The passage is obscured by spectral worries that cloud clear thought.

We get stuck in limbo, mulling things over. We brood and ruminate, fret and stew. But we make no progress. T.S. Eliot described this in Prufrock as a world of yellow fog and ether in which every moment contains a hundred indecisions, visions, and revisions. Such dithering frays the nerves and weakens the will.

The experience of limbo is not unique to the present moment. There is a general human tendency to waver and worry, defer and deflect. This is related to the difficulty we have in making commitments and saying good-bye.

Some people never really say “yes” or “no.” They duck the question and beat around the bush. But a firm “no” is a blessing in comparison to a vague deflection. A “yes” opens the door. A “no” closes one. But a “maybe” leaves us in limbo with the door ajar.

And when the party’s over, we stand in the doorway, making small talk in the dark. Perhaps we fear the solitude of the night. Phillip Marlowe said that “to say goodbye is to die a little.” A long goodbye is another kind of limbo.

The antidote is obvious. Breathe deeply and exorcise the ghosts. Take a stand. Close the door. Either turn back or go out and get moving. Remaining at the threshold won’t help you decide. Sure it’s wise to think things over. But deliberation is not avoidance. “Measure twice, cut once,” the saying goes. But after you’ve measured it’s time to cut. And once you begin, cut swiftly and true.

To procrastinate is to live on borrowed time. Eventually the bill comes due. A person can only wait so long. And then you are dead.

Virtue and happiness require action. Patience is crucial. Genuine patience is active and expectant, full of attention. Patience is not passivity, which deadens the mind. Patience is sustained energy directed toward the future.

The Roman poet Horace said that patience helps us endure what cannot be changed. Horace is also famous for saying “Seize the day” and “Dare to be wise.” He said a person who passively waits for wisdom is like an idiot standing beside a river, waiting for the water to stop before daring to cross. Life is short, Horace said, and we can’t trust tomorrow. So plunge on in.

To live is to get your feet wet. Sometimes the river knocks you off your feet. But it is better to swim than to wait. Those who dip their toes never leave the shore.

This may sound like a call for blind action — but it’s not. One of the dangers of limbo is that it can give way to the panicked urge to run and rage. As the tension builds, there is a risk of explosion. But blind action makes a splash without making a difference.

We need to be calm and patient. Worry changes nothing. Fight the urge to panic. This limbo won’t last forever. At some point the ether will wear off and the yellow fog will lift.

Patience is realistic and engaged. Rather than battling ghosts, roll up your sleeves. Rather than pausing at the doorway, get moving. Stay focused on kindness and courage. Stop holding your breath and saying maybe. There is work to be done.

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Secular or Sacred? A Pandemic Conflict

The pandemic has brought the conflict between the sacred and the secular to the surface. 

The Archbishop of San Francisco, Salvatore Cordileone, led a recent protest against Covid-19 restrictions.  He claimed that restrictions on worship violate the First Amendment right to free exercise of religion.  He said, “when government asserts authority over the church’s very right to worship, it crosses a line. Our fundamental rights do not come from the state… they come from God.”  He also suggested that “secular elites” lack compassion for religious people and do not understand the pain caused by restricting worship.

The Archbishop did not deny the need for reasonable restrictions on religious liberty.  The problem is that we disagree about what is reasonable.  In fact, we always have. 

150 years ago the U.S. Supreme Court ruled against Mormon polygamy (Reynolds v. U.S.), arguing that the state can restrict religious liberty.  The Court said that religious belief is not “superior to the law of the land” and that religious liberty does not “permit every citizen to become a law unto himself.”

The worry is that religious liberty can open the door to a kind of anarchy, as each sect claims an exception to the law.  The Mormon polygamists of the 19th Century did not think that polygamy meant anarchy.  Nor is the Archbishop prescribing general lawlessness in the face of the pandemic.  But it is difficult to figure out where to draw the line in disputes between the secular and the sacred. 

Furthermore, the Archbishop suggests that some values transcend the law of the land.  He says that our rights come from God—not from the state.  This may mean that we have a right (or even an obligation) to violate the law of the land in the name of a higher law. This is what happens in cases of civil disobedience and conscientious refusal. 

Public health and the common good would seem to call for restrictions on worship. But do religious people have a right to refuse?

A significant problem is that terms such as “public health” and “the common good” are subject to interpretation.  A religious person may think that spiritual well-being is part of public health.  And some religious communities think that communal worship is essential for the common good.

The Archbishop suggests that secular people often don’t understand the powerful role that ritual and communal worship play in the lives of religious folk.  There is some truth to this.  The idea of the sacred opens a realm of transcendent value, which has no parallel in non-religious life. 

The secular world is “disenchanted,” as Max Weber put it a hundred years ago.  Philosopher Charles Taylor said something similar: “The modern identity and outlook flattens the world, leaves no place for the spiritual, the higher, for mystery.”  Speaking as secular person, I think they are right.  The sacred, the transcendent, and the holy are indeed flattened in the secular world.

There is much to argue about here in terms of ethics, theology, and the meaning of life.  But let’s leave these existential arguments aside and return to the problem of the pandemic.  The present situation is this.  Some religious people live in a world of mystery and enchantment that requires communal celebration of shared rituals.  These communal practices appear to violate the public health rules created by a secular political system, which views the world as disenchanted and flat. 

This conflict becomes more complicated when the source of political and legal authority is called into question.  Are the laws a human creation, the result of a social contract?  Or are these laws reflective of something deeper, more mysterious and sacred? 

The present crisis prompts these deep questions.  To answer them we need the help of political philosophers and theologians.  But there will be no unanimous consensus about how to answer these questions. 

This gives us clue to finding common ground.  The fact that we disagree shows us the need for liberty.  The Courts are going to have to draw lines. These judgments will not be satisfactory to everyone.  But let’s agree, at least, that we should be free to ask these questions and to disagree about the source of the law and the meaning of life.