-- Benjamin Franklin
Pursuing active retirement. Seeing the world. Striving for an agile mind, body, and spirit.
Wednesday, January 11, 2017
Tuesday, January 10, 2017
We Take Clean Water for Granted
As we travel around the world, we are constantly aware of water. Typically, we can't risk drinking the local water, and we often suffer minor illness at some point in a journey despite taking all the necessary precautions. But mostly, we stay healthy. We're fortunate to have easy access to bottled water wherever we go.
The locals are often not as fortunate. In some places, they can drink the water with impunity. Their bodies are accustomed to bacteria that would give us endless discomfort. But often, the water is completely undrinkable, even for locals. We see the evidence in illness and in the constant litter of plastic bottles.
In some places we visit, drinkable water is almost a non-issue because they hardly have access to water at all. The landscape is parched and water sources are few and far between. We've heard stories of mothers and teen-age daughters walking miles to get water from a well or a stream. Girls are often kept home from school to tend to their "job" of providing the family with water.
Into this void steps a group called charity:water. Their mission is quite simply to provide potable water to villages around the world. When they go to a village and drill a well, this is the result:
"Water changes everything. Preventable waterborne diseases are drastically reduced. Long walks to muddy ponds and rivers are no longer necessary. Time spent collecting water goes down, which gives women a chance to earn an income and children a chance at a better education. Clean water offers improved health, a higher quality of life and hope for a better future."
So many worthy causes solicit our help. It's hard to choose. But I think everyone is entitled to drinkable water and this group is making a difference.
The locals are often not as fortunate. In some places, they can drink the water with impunity. Their bodies are accustomed to bacteria that would give us endless discomfort. But often, the water is completely undrinkable, even for locals. We see the evidence in illness and in the constant litter of plastic bottles.
In some places we visit, drinkable water is almost a non-issue because they hardly have access to water at all. The landscape is parched and water sources are few and far between. We've heard stories of mothers and teen-age daughters walking miles to get water from a well or a stream. Girls are often kept home from school to tend to their "job" of providing the family with water.
Into this void steps a group called charity:water. Their mission is quite simply to provide potable water to villages around the world. When they go to a village and drill a well, this is the result: "Water changes everything. Preventable waterborne diseases are drastically reduced. Long walks to muddy ponds and rivers are no longer necessary. Time spent collecting water goes down, which gives women a chance to earn an income and children a chance at a better education. Clean water offers improved health, a higher quality of life and hope for a better future."
So many worthy causes solicit our help. It's hard to choose. But I think everyone is entitled to drinkable water and this group is making a difference.
Quote of the Day -- Ralph Crawshaw
Travel has a way of stretching the mind. The stretch comes not from travel’s immediate rewards … but with experiencing firsthand how others do differently what we believed to be the right and only way.
-- Ralph Crawshaw
Fake News, Post-Truth, and the Media
The November election was a wake-up call in so many ways and leaves many of us with burning questions. How, for example, do we have any prayer of a more reasonable election result in a world where the two sides consume information from completely different sources and have different criteria for judging its veracity?
We're hearing lots of discussion about how our education system needs to change. We need to teach our youth to evaluate what they read and to distinguish fact from opinion or from deliberate mendacity. The problem, of course, is that we will create these curricula in the "blue states" for the children of educated parents. I highly doubt that we'll see much critical analysis of content in rural schools.
I've read quite a few postmortems on the role of journalism in the election results -- how they shirked their responsibilities for too long, gave Trump a free pass and, even worse, tons of free publicity. We'll never really know what role the media played in the outcome any more than we will know how many votes were swayed by the Russian hacking and propaganda campaign.
In the midst of all this angst and unanswered questions, this Brookings article by a Tom Rosenstiel, a governance expert, provides several constructive, actionable suggestions for the media going forward. I particularly like his idea of accompanying news articles with a box that identifies where it falls on the fact versus opinion spectrum, what the main idea or issue is, what the sources are, and what is as yet unknown. In this age of reading online and scanning (and yes, I'm as guilty as anyone else), long-form journalism is often overlooked. But perhaps with this kind of "caption," we might at least get the gist quickly and easily, and even be tempted to read the entire article.
We're hearing lots of discussion about how our education system needs to change. We need to teach our youth to evaluate what they read and to distinguish fact from opinion or from deliberate mendacity. The problem, of course, is that we will create these curricula in the "blue states" for the children of educated parents. I highly doubt that we'll see much critical analysis of content in rural schools.
I've read quite a few postmortems on the role of journalism in the election results -- how they shirked their responsibilities for too long, gave Trump a free pass and, even worse, tons of free publicity. We'll never really know what role the media played in the outcome any more than we will know how many votes were swayed by the Russian hacking and propaganda campaign.
In the midst of all this angst and unanswered questions, this Brookings article by a Tom Rosenstiel, a governance expert, provides several constructive, actionable suggestions for the media going forward. I particularly like his idea of accompanying news articles with a box that identifies where it falls on the fact versus opinion spectrum, what the main idea or issue is, what the sources are, and what is as yet unknown. In this age of reading online and scanning (and yes, I'm as guilty as anyone else), long-form journalism is often overlooked. But perhaps with this kind of "caption," we might at least get the gist quickly and easily, and even be tempted to read the entire article.
Saturday, January 7, 2017
Monday, October 10, 2016
Respecting the Wisdom of Lifelong Expertise
I recently wrote down my Manifesto for a Full, Active Retirement. (More about that in a later post.) One of my directives to myself is: " Read,
listen to, or watch something every day that stretches my mind."
I read often and widely. I love fiction, and most of the time I try to choose fiction that is "meaningful," either because it explores the nuances of a difficult issue or elucidates the complexities of a different culture or historical period. I read non-fiction too. And lately, I've started listening to podcasts instead of music when I walk. I still choose music sometimes, because I'm less likely to get so caught up that I ignore my surroundings. But I've grown to love podcasts.
Today I listened to a Brookings Institute podcast: Political Gridlock and the U.S. Economy. The subject itself was fascinating. And as always with Brookings podcasts, I was very impressed by the two panelists. They both had vast experience, were well-informed, calm, articulate, and mildly humorous. It left me wondering, yet again, why we have become a culture that treats expertise, knowledge, and wisdom with such disdain.
I read often and widely. I love fiction, and most of the time I try to choose fiction that is "meaningful," either because it explores the nuances of a difficult issue or elucidates the complexities of a different culture or historical period. I read non-fiction too. And lately, I've started listening to podcasts instead of music when I walk. I still choose music sometimes, because I'm less likely to get so caught up that I ignore my surroundings. But I've grown to love podcasts.
Today I listened to a Brookings Institute podcast: Political Gridlock and the U.S. Economy. The subject itself was fascinating. And as always with Brookings podcasts, I was very impressed by the two panelists. They both had vast experience, were well-informed, calm, articulate, and mildly humorous. It left me wondering, yet again, why we have become a culture that treats expertise, knowledge, and wisdom with such disdain.
Sunday, October 9, 2016
United We Stand, Divided We Fall
"United we stand, divided we fall" has been variously attributed to everyone from Benjamin Franklin to Abraham Lincoln. One site attributes it to an Aesop Fable about four sheep and a lion. Regardless of its source, this quote seems apropos right now as I watch our country in the throes of the strangest and most nerve-wracking presidential election any of us have ever seen. We are clearly a country that is hopelessly divided to the point that few of us have any idea how to begin to bridge the gap and overcome the animosity and distrust.
Most educated thinking people that I know are horrified that Donald Trump is poised to be elected president. We nervously check the fivethirtyeight.com web site regularly to seek reassurance that the unthinkable has a low probability of actually happening. (And I sincerely hope that a month from now, while enjoying splendid views of the Andes, I'll be able to wipe my brow and say "Whew! We dodged that bullet!")
But when the dust has settled, we all need to do a lot of soul searching and try to understand why our country is experiencing two completely divergent views of American values.
I remember my initial reaction to the 9/11 attack was that it was like Pearl Harbor and our country was at war. Then when we learned that the perpetrators were jihadist terrorists, the "war" took on a completely different character. This isn't a war with any possibility of negotiating a cease-fire. They don't want our land or our riches. They simply hate us because of who we are, and there is really no way to fix that.
The division in our country right now feels a lot like that. I've read several excellent books to try to understand how we got here:
- Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis by J.D. Vance
- The Big Sort: Why the Clustering of Like-Minded Americans is Tearing Us Apart by Bill Bishop
- The Righteous Mind: Why Good People are Divided by Religion and Politics by Jonathan Haidt
Each of these provides some degree of explanation, but none of them makes me feel very hopeful. I read so many eloquent pleas for reason from inside the intellectual liberal bubble. The latest is this Facebook post by Dan Rather citing the famous Holocaust poem by Pastor Martin Niemoller. Perhaps it's a fitting way to convey how dismayed and perplexed I am by the "other tribe." Linking to a specific Facebook post is a bit of a challenge, so I've copied the text in full.
The headlines of the moment are in the growing roll call of prominent Republicans who are rescinding their support for Donald Trump. But I am left wondering how his candidacy and those who supported, enabled it, and abetted him until now, will be viewed through the long lens of history. It should be noted that many conservative editorial boards and critics have already come out against Trump long before this latest bombshell in very stark terms.
Apparently everyone has a line, and yet do you feel things would be different if all of these politicians thought Trump could still win in November?And what should we make of all the other groups who have been insulted and marginalized by Trump and yet his supporters stood by him?
He attacked Mexicans as rapists and murderers - but that was not enough.
He called for barring Muslims from entering the country - but that was not enough.
He incited violence in his rallies - but that was not enough.
He publicly mocked the disabled - but that was not enough.
He retweeted anti-Semitic memes - but that was not enough.
He demeaned a Gold Star Family - but that was not enough.
He insulted the press and railed against their Constitutional freedoms - but that was not enough.
He said that those who suffer from PTSD were weak - but that was not enough.
He had a long history of misogynist and sexist comments - but that was not enough.
He repeatedly lied on issues big and small - but that was not enough.
He refused to release his tax records or health records - but that was not enough.
He joked about violence against his political rival - but that was not enough.
I could go on, and I ask you to do so in the comments section.
Perhaps we can tag it with #butthatwasnotenough.
I know some equate Donald Trump with Nazisim - that goes too far for me. But in recent hours I have been hearing echoes of the chilling poem by the German anti-Nazi theologian Martin Niemöller about the culpability of his country's elite in the rise of Nazism.
"First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me."
America's better nature has always been to speak out for the marginalized and dispossessed. It is an ideal for which we have all too often fallen far short. What about now? -- Dan Rather, 10/8/2016
Tuesday, October 4, 2016
Monday, October 3, 2016
Quote of the Day -- Leonardo da Vinci
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)




