Addressing the Root Causes

How do you get people out of a miserable funk? It does seem to be where we are now. Wealthier and healthier than past generations only to be gloomy.

For all their faults, advertisers and marketers are perceptive at times. A Weetabix breakfast cereal advert[1] captures what I’m writing about in these short lines. A tweed jacketed professor stands in front of an audience of the “great and the good” to exclaim that Britain’s performance has been sliding downhill. Citing examples, he then goes on to offer a theory. No prizes for guessing his editable cure all. It’s an understated use of humour. It’s a sideways look at the silliness of mixing-up correlation and coincidence. Which happens all the time on social media.

“We must rebuild Britain”. There’s a fine slogan that could grace a political campaign. At least it’s positive. At least it’s about addressing causes, fixing problems and making stuff.

Time to draw a distinction. A symptom can be an indicator. A sign, or what’s believed to be a sign. A cause is a reason for a problem. The root or source.

My view of the current political landscape is that we are spending lots of time and energy chasing symptoms, many of which are entity false. Symptoms can be an easy hit. A target to blame. Newspaper headlines full of negative stories all add to feelings of sliding downhill. Only in analysis, hidden in the small print, are there stories and theories about causes. Getting to the root of a problem is a hundred times more difficult than scratching the symptoms.

The treacherous right-wing brand of divisive and destructive politics, that is toping the opinion polls, does nothing to solve real problems. That recipe is only a way of creating more problems. More gloom.

The “ungodly” foolish proposal to kick-out hard-working people who contribute to this country is idiotic. A term I borrowed from the fictional character Simon Templar, as The Saint. It’s a term aimed at those whose morals are virtually non-existent. Fighting the ungodly doom mongers is necessary. A higher calling is to propose a better way.

Frankly, I don’t believe that the majority of this country’s people are mean and thoughtless in the way some unscrupulous politicians think. Even so, a lingering danger exists. Just as the advertisers and marketers can turn our heads so persistent negativity has a grinding effect.

Removing the miserable funk of the moment isn’t going to happen by chasing the funk. Flooding the country with more funk. Burying the country in funk.

We must rebuild Britain by accentuating the positive. Confidently fixing problems.

The Weetabix TV advert I referenced above featured a man pointing at a pothole. It may sound trite. It’s been a feature of campaigns over the years. There’s a real everyday problem that we know how to fix. What’s been disappointing is the fact that we know that, and have always known that, but the problem persists. Let me suggest that a route to a more positive outlook would be to remove the cause of people’s annoyances. Stop starving local government. Give them a solid mandate, backed up by resources, to fix what we know can be fixed. Purge at least one problem. If we need more hard-working people to do the job, I think I might know where to find them.


[1] https://youtu.be/T2ZZiIeuwRE

Navigating the Digital Landscape

Maybe there’s no simple right or wrong answer. Polarising a debate doesn’t bring better results.

The landscape, the environment, the society that children grow-up in is ever changing. Moving to ban smart phones and tablets for children is gaining some momentum. Taking these components of modern living out of schools and limiting exposure to their influence is in the minds of campaigners. Organised movements and some politicians are going that way.

My childhood wasn’t dominated by digital technology. It was an analogue world. That single fact doesn’t make it “better”. Here, even my language suggests one good and the other bad. Perhaps I should be positive about the advantages of an analogue world. Afterall, it did stretch across the whole of human history right up to the time that personal computers found a place in our homes. However, that societal transition didn’t bring about Armageddon.  

There was a moral panic in my late teens. As analogue video technology became widely available then so did pre-recorded video cassettes. Now, they look prehistoric when they crop-up on the shelves in charity shops. Chunky, magnetic tape-based machinery became a rival to regulated broadcast TV. At the time, media legislation was way behind the curve.

In the early 1980s, social commentators got highly agitated about the harm that easily available video content could do. True, with some justification, although this reaction went overboard. The media would keenly focus on any crime that could be tagged to “video nasties[1]”.

What’s my point? It’s that media technology will continue to evolve at pace. Even now with our small screens, being carried everywhere people go, are systems that remain relatively crude. Imagine what will happen if technology that directly connects to the human brain becomes widely available.

Teaching children to be able to cope in this rapidly changing world matters. In my opinion, sheltering them from this technology landscape isn’t a good idea. Yes, censor the bad stuff but taking away smart phones and tablets has a downside.

Abstinence is favoured by strong believers in that way of living. Tightly controlling exposure to everyday society on the basis that the dangers of corruption are everywhere. Over the long-term, what is observed is that an approach based on prohibition isn’t sustainable.

Like it or not, there’s a schizophrenic reaction going on. As I was last week. sitting in a busy airport lounge, I noted the number of parents and children glued to their small screens. For the flight home of almost four hours, the proliferation of smart devices was notable.

Promoting legislation that prohibits the use and carrying of smart devices during the school day[2] is foolish. It ticks the populist box of the concerned parent but it’s stoking a new moral panic.

Learning to live healthily in the landscape, the environment, the society that children grow-up in, that’s part of the school day.


[1] https://www.bfi.org.uk/features/where-begin-with-video-nasties

[2] https://bills.parliament.uk/bills/3909/stages/19437/amendments/10018472

Imagine the Future

Daily writing prompt
How would you design the city of the future?

Already did it. Breakfast cereal packets were so much more interesting in the days before mobile phones. Tony the tiger’s smiling face on packets of Kellogg’s FROSTIES were part of my life as a 12-year-old. Then that morning sugar rush wasn’t seen as a bad thing.

In late 1972, Kellogg’s ran a “Paint the city of the future” competition. I entered and won. Along with several hundred other children. The prize being a Tonka toy set.

Their toy models of construction trucks and machinery were made of heavy gauge steel. None of the plastic nonsense that children get fobbed-off with now. Would you be surprised to know that, at least a couple of the toys, I still have today. Somewhere in a box.

My picture of the city of the future is long lost. Or perhaps it’s sitting in some dusty dark Kellogg’s depository. Never to be see the light of day again.

Blogging for Change

Daily writing prompt
What change, big or small, would you like your blog to make in the world?

That’s a dippy question. I know our interconnected age is supposed to offer access to the world at each and every keyboard or touch screen but seriously. Sitting in a sea of content, bashed out with increasing frequency, only a fraction will bubble to the surface.

If you think you are indispensable, dip your finger into a glass of water and then remove it. Observe the hole. That sarcastic little saying deflates the ego. On a positive side it lowers expectations, so success then comes as a wonderful surprise.

The vast percentage of what’s written is forgotten. There’s more that is ephemeral in heaven and Earth than I might care to think about. That’s a good situation to be in. Time plays a part.

Recounting the number of artists or writers who were ignored in their lifetime but celebrated after a couple of generations down the line, that’s a big list. I suppose it’s not possible to know when a person’s words will be a catalyst of change. It would be nice to be as astute as say, Carl Sagan, and quoted endlessly. A league of thoughtful communicators that are memorable.

Striking that public resonance is within the bounds of a few. Personally, my scribblings are for me. If others like them then that’s great, it’s not the reason to scribble.

Wobbles

Daily writing prompt
Describe your life in an alternate universe.

Imagine an alternate universe were gravity wobbles a tiny bit like the weather fluctuates. One day the bathroom scales say 140kg the next day they say 35kg. One day I can skip to work in record time then next day I’m like a lumbering elephant.

I guess if that variations were too rapid life as we know it could not exist. If the wobbles were gentle and predicable then it would be a massively different world, an alternative world.

Our week would be divided up differently. Heavy manual tasks would be saved for specific days. What would they be called? Motag – short for motion days. On the other part of the gravity cycle, it’s time to sit at desk or stay in bed. Call them Statag – short for static days.

Building cars, aeroplanes and trains would be might tricky. Over engineered for Statag’s. Super speedy on Motag’s.

Plants and animals would have habits that are as different as the human ones. Evolution would have shaped us to produce a form that we wouldn’t recognise. Like a short, rounded superman able to leap tall structures but only once a week.

A bigger question is what would the atmosphere be like? Buy a bigger barometer, I’d say. Would all the rain come down when the clouds got heavy? So many questions.

Embrace Curiosity

Daily writing prompt
What are you curious about?

Curiosity killed the cat. So, it’s said. Fortunately, regardless of my appreciation of cats, I am not one to forgo curiosity. That’s a rotten phrase. Much like “children should be seen and not heard.” An irritating idiom. True, the idea of suppressing curiosity was fashionable at one time. Society was organised that way. Authoritarian regimes love this dictum. It’s there in most stories of dystopia.

I’d say, be open to the world. Why not be curious about everything? Fine, that can be irritating too. As the classic scene of a child in the back seat of a car on a long journey piping-up every five minutes – are we there yet?

I like travel. I like looking around the next corner to see what’s there. I’ve annoyed my partner a hundred times in this way. Maybe there’s something interesting just around the corner. How can we know unless we look?

The Wit of Tom Lehrer: Songs That Endure

I was first introduced to the pastime of Poisoning Pigeons as a student. No, not literally. The idea of a leisurely Sunday sitting in a park dispatching pests that poo on the public has appeal. In reality, I’d never do that. Tom Lehrer’s comic composition[1] was enough. I have a lot of sympathy with the theme of his delightful song. Pigeons are, after all, merely disease spreading flying rats.

Tom Lehrer has left us a legacy of humour, the like of which we may never hear again. It’s so wonderful that his whole catalogue of songs is in the public domain[2] for everyone to enjoy until the day we all go together, when we go. Even I could have a go at a rendition of one of his songs, don’t worry it’s not my highest priority for the day. Beside matching his musicality, speed and timing isn’t within my meagre capacities.

Despite the massive changes that the world has been through since Tom’s pen went to paper a great number of the lyrics remain pertinent. I can sing “Pollution” loudly and think of the water companies in England. Like lambs to the slaughter, they (we) are drinking the water.

I can’t think of rockets, present or past without thinking of Tom’s song about Wernher Von Braun. Expedience seems to be the order of the day in 2025. Once the rockets go up who cares where they come down[3]. I’m sure the song wasn’t written about the Caribbean, but it could have been.

“The Folk Song Army” song is a nice dig at the pompousness of a certain kind of popular liberal musician. Something of our age. Where performance is more important than real action.

Sending up both the classics and the movie industry, “Oedipus Rex[4]” is pure genius. All such ancient stories should have dedicated title song. A complex complex.

Yes, Tom Lehrer was preaching to the converted. His sharp humour doesn’t normally travel across right-wing boundaries where they take themselves hideously seriously. He digs at the ribs of conservatives, tickles liberals and ridicules the absurdities of authorities.

Goodbye Tom Lehrer. Thanks for all the smiles. Thanks for your brilliant comic imagination. A shining star in the firmament.


[1] https://genius.com/Tom-lehrer-poisoning-pigeons-in-the-park-lyrics

[2] https://tomlehrersongs.com/

[3] https://www.wsj.com/video/spacex-starship-explodes-sending-debris-across-caribbean-sky/B828779B-D067-4290-A06D-77F60A6B501D

[4] https://tomlehrersongs.com/oedipus-rex/

Our Bubbles

I’ll coin a way of thinking about the world that’s more empirical than the result of any in-depth study. Maybe it’s not even original. The idea came to my mind because of something someone said this week. It was part of seeing a wider world rather than their everyday experience.

As an aside, and not surprising given that I was 6 years old in 1966, my football team was West Ham United. Not because I lived anywhere near West Ham, or had any concept of what London was like, but that team had the best players. Bobby Moore and Geoff Hurst.

Be patient, there’s a link. “I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles[1]” is so tightly associated with West Ham it’s as important as those years after the 1966 England World Cup win. The club anthem of West Ham is a strange song for a long-standing English sports team. Especially when the club’s origins are more to do with the river Thames, its industry and docks.

Now, I know. It’s impressive and it’s akin to the so-called butterfly effect. A small event happens but it sets off a chain of events that become much larger, and unrelated to the original event. The song has endured, I suspect, because it sums up sporting success and failure. Hard to grasp, continually bursting but enduring because there’s always another opportunity to win.

If I’m going to discuss bubbles then that’s the first thought that comes to my head. Those ephemeral objects that float through the air. Perfectly self-contained only hanging together by tiny molecular bonds. Pretty bubble floating through the air.

Here’s what was said: “We live in a bubble”. Meaning those commonplace, often tedious, daily concerns and troubles that enclose our place and time. Bubbles can only be seen if an observer steps outside their boundaries and looks at the innumerable other bubbles.

I wander around with ahead full of thoughts and notions. They are often repetitious and going around in circles. That annoying job I’ve put off. Those awkward words that I now regret. That wondering how I’m going to tell someone that I’m not going to do what they want done. The list goes on and on. There’re good thoughts too. How much I appreciate my partners tolerance. How fortunate I am when compared with those mentioned in the morning News. Remembering a past success and a nice cup of coffee.

“We live in a bubble”. It’s so easy to take a point of view based on nothing more or less than the contents of our minds in own bubble world. Mental bubbles overlap. Several people may have bubbles that are more or less the same. In politics, I could say there’s a liberal bubble, a conservative bubble, socialist bubble, a fascist bubble. There’re all out there somewhere in bubble world.

Being an early riser, my first conscious act is to hit the “on” button on my radio. This week, I caught a prayer for the day by Steve Taylor[2]. He was making the point that it’s often our sense of separateness that is the cause of a lot of suffering. I interpret this as people being stuck in a bubble without comprehension of all the other bubbles in existence.

When we transcend our separate mental bubbles there’s a chance of better understanding. I’m not brave enough to say that this act would sort the conflicts in the world, but it would be a good start.


[1] https://youtu.be/H62SuMpMhc0

[2] https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m002g4mn

What If We Brought Back a Dinosaur?

Daily writing prompt
If you could bring back one dinosaur, which one would it be?

Let’s just say that the dino that I’d bring back, time machine permitting, would be the biggest vegetarian that ever existed. It would be downright irresponsible to bring back a meat-eater. Haven’t we seen enough excitable movies on the theme of what can go wrong? The last genetic recreation humanity needs is one that would like to eat us.

If reptilian brains had advanced as fast as homo sapiens maybe the world would be dramatically different. Still, they had several hundred million years, and they wasted the lot. Thus, there’s not much to fear when faced with a large slow-moving vegetarian.

As the planet warms, so there will be more habitable regions where big plodding 40-ton dinos can do some good. A spectacle for sure. And a way to reshape landscapes. Driving evolution in the wilderness.

Here’s a crazy thought. The permafrost in Siberia is melting. Carbon is being released into the atmosphere. That’s not good. Let loose a lot of ultra-heavy dinos across such a wilderness. Feeding on the forests. Fertilising the forests. Equally compressing and churning up the soil. That might keep some of the carbon locked up.

Lusotitan monsters[1] wouldn’t threaten humanity. They might be an asset as well as being fascinating. Large herbivores exist today. We might value them more in the sight of a large dino lumbering across the terrain.


[1] https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p0ll5jcv

Absolutely!

Daily writing prompt
List 10 things you know to be absolutely certain.

For some obscure reason my mind goes immediately to René Magritte. A painter who knew how to play with reality and illusion. “This is not a pipe.” A painting is not a pipe, but rather an image of a pipe. So, why not say so.

I could say that there is nothing that we can be totally certain about. Afterall, some deep thinkers imagine that we live in a simulation where nothing is real. Personally, I don’t go with that theory. It’s absurd in the sense that the next question becomes – who made the simulation? And for them, could they not be part of a greater simulation? That would create a Russian doll set that would go on to infinity. And we all have a problem with infinity.

Let me go for 10 things that I think to be certain within the bounds of my limited knowledge.

  1. My name. It gets used by those I met. Documents have it well recorded. My parents were consistent in using it. So, I’ll say that it certainly is John.
  2. Earth. The existence of the planet where I live. The ground beneath my feet. The physical mass that generates enough gravity to keep me here.
  3. Water. Now, I’m listing the four classical elements (Earth, water, air and fire). I depend on them every day. To walk, to drink, to breath, to keep warm in winter.
  4. Air.
  5. Fire.
  6. Space. A generic name for the huge expanse beyond the Earth. Even with no personal experience of Space, I’m certain that it exists. Its precise nature is another matter.
  7. Food. The existence of which sustains me. Without it I’d perish.
  8. My senses. My five senses – sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch.
  9. My size and shape. Measurements taken and recorded. Hight, weight and a proliferation of other dimensions. Not that they are static.
  10. My emotions. Facts aside, so many likes and dislikes, engage, distract, motivate and repel with such consistency that their existence cannot be denied.

Having produced this fine list, I will now press the big red button marked do not press. Is there any reason why I shouldn’t engage the infinite improbability drive?