Renaissance Guy (Mobile)

Sovereignty Revisited

How do you define a nation? How do you define a state? Does a nation necessitate a state, and vice versa?

The answer to the final question is most likely the simplest of the lot to answer. The existence of such governments-in-exile during World War II, as the Free French government, the Belgian and Dutch governments in London and Canada, and related, prove that a state can exist without distinctly sovereign territory or citizens to govern. Relatedly, the claims of states are not inherently mutually exclusive. The Republic of Korea and the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (South and North Korea, respectively), both claim full sovereignty of the entire peninsula. During the Cold War, both the German Democratic Republic and the Federal Republic of Germany claimed to be the sole German nation, claiming all of German territory, and its citizens. This point became important during reunification, as it meant that former East German citizens were automatically entitled to western social services.

But perhaps the most fascinating study is the case of the two Chinas – that is, the People’s Republic of China and the Republic of China. Unlike previous examples, this particular division is not the result of joint Soviet/American occupation, but rather the direct result of the end of the Chinese Civil War. The Republic of China, better known to westerners as Taiwan, maintains its claim over the entire Chinese mainland and, critically, claims to be the legitimate successor to China’s millennia of history. This is particularly interesting, as it helps provide an answer to the first question.

A nation, therefore, has as its basic characteristics, a geographic area, a citizenry, and a distinct historical identity. Yet, while a nation may encompass a specific geographical area, it will be seen that a nation need not be restricted to a single sovereign state. Like the case of the two Germanies, the two Chinas, and the governments in exile, a single nation can quite easily have multiple states and governments, even when said states are at odds or even at war.

Of course, this is not news. In Europe, the notion of Europe as a single nation that merely happens to have multiple states is well ingrained, if not universally applauded, with many states going so far as to functionally abolish borders. In the Middle East, the formerly-popular Ba’ath ideology supports the notion of a pan-Arab state. Pan-Africanism remains a strong political force in Africa. The United States of America was originally intended to support this idea, acting as an open federation of American states.

With such historical context, it seems difficult to believe that a nation cannot exist without closed borders. Few will contend that Germany is not a “real” nation because it dismantled the death strips on its borders. Fewer still will maintain that the state of New York has destroyed its economy by allowing open borders and free trade with its neighbor, New Jersey. Yet some still continue to insist that a nation cannot be a nation without fortified borders and rigid immigration restrictions.

To be clear, there are plenty of legitimate reasons for maintaining border security. There are reasons why a state may wish to prevent illegal immigration. But national sovereignty is not among them.

For reference, here is the US-Canada border in Alaska. It’s worth noting here for the record that more illegal immigrants come through this border than the US-Mexico one. And yet, there is no talk of building a wall.

And here is the monument just beside the checkpoint, celebrating the fact that we as a nation do not require fortified borders to feel secure.

The monument calls the friendship between the US and Canada, and the resulting open borders, “a lesson of peace to all nations”. The new administration would do well to remember this lesson.

Engineering Equality

If you didn’t know already, I occasionally advocate for causes I believe in. More rarely, I go so far as to actually volunteer to go meet with people. I am not exactly a people person, so I take these kinds of engagements quite seriously. One particular role I have played is acting as an effective salesperson for the Nightscout Foundation. Amid other things, one of the activities I do is show people how to build little battery powered LED lights from off-the-shelf hardware components. It’s meant to be a proof of concept, as our foundation is a maker-movement DIY group. The notion is that if you can assemble a simple LED with a little instruction, you have all the qualifications to go on and build anything. If you can build this, you can engineer your own solutions to your chronic illness.

For the adults and those who are interested in our foundation, it provides a great segue into talking about building your own treatment setups. For the kids and the casual observers, it’s a great feel-good moment and a pleasant memento. But being a DIY engineering project, even if a relatively simple and small scale one, has inspired a great variety of reactions in a great variety of people.

Some you might expect. For example, kids tend to be more enthralled with the idea of a fun project than the adults, who are by and large more interested in free stuff. These are trade shows where we’re presenting, after all. Some are a bit less expected though.

For one thing, I’ve distinctly noticed that some of our oldest visitors also seem to be the most interested in building something themselves. I had one elderly lady at the American Diabetes Association conference. She had a walker and wore an eyepatch on one eye, a pair of thick glasses over both. Her hands shook as she tried to grip the components. In her place, I might have well given up. Yet she persisted in doing it herself. Seeing the LED bulb light up, she herself lit up to match.

At the same conference was a man in a wheelchair. His hat proclaimed he was a Veteran of several different conflicts. He did not seem awfully happy to be at that particular conference on that day. Yet he was overjoyed to be able to build a simple little gadget, which he used to decorate his own wheelchair. After completing his first one, a red bulb, my mother pointed out that he ought to build a green bulb one as well, for port and starboard on his wheelchair. He agreed wholeheartedly. I don’t think I have ever seen a man more proud of his wheelchair.

Another demographic trend which I have noticed recently, which I would not have expected but perhaps should not be so surprised at: I have noticed that while children of both sexes participate in roughly equal numbers, on the whole, the girls have seemed more interested. It’s hard to quantify and difficult to explain, but I see more of that familiar gleam – that hope – when I give my whole spiel about being able to build anything.

This is of particular interest to me, because this anecdotal experience seems to be in line with some of the larger picture about STEM-related skills in American students. The data, which admittedly is still quite limited, has suggested that young girls may actually be better equipped in terms of scientific than their male counterparts, at least at a young age. This, despite overwhelmingly male-dominated workplaces in STEM fields.

There are of course other possibilities. Perhaps girls at trade shows are simply more interested because it is an arts and crafts project as much as an engineering one. Perhaps they see other people wearing their LEDs and don’t want to miss out on the latest fashion. But I don’t think so. Also, it’s worth nothing, none of these scenarios are mutually exclusive.

If this pattern is true, then it points to some very dark truths about our society and culture. It suggests that not only are we shortchanging women, and likely also many other traditionally marginalized groups, but from a technological development standpoint, we are robbing the world of their opportunity to improve life for everyone. Still, I remain hopeful. We can’t undo the past, and we can’t change our social order and culture overnight, but we can set a positive example and improve outreach. For my part, I intend to continue my work promoting DIY engineering solutions. Do It Yourself is, after all, completely gender neutral and inclusive.

The truth is that the solution to achieving genuine equality- between genders, ages, races, and all the other things that divide us – lies in enabling those that are interested and able to access the necessary resources to advance both themselves, and humanity as a whole. The solution to equality lies not in legislation, but in education. Only by encouraging self-motivated DIY engineers can we expect to achieve the egalitarian dream that we have for so long been promised.

Do You Wanna Build a Castle

Pictured below is my most recent project. It requires no real explanation.

I happen to like Lego bricks, perhaps more than is considered appropriate for one my age. They are one of my preferred media for experiencing the joys of creation, which I have previously mentioned as one of the major sources of joy in my life. I find that they provide a good midpoint between creating still images, which in my cases involves mostly sketches, and writing stories in text. Still images convey singular moments, or else discrete concepts. Writing, although it can be used to describe a setting in a single point in time, is generally better adapted to stories. Writing also usually requires a level of cognitive function that is, if not above, then at least, distinct most other options.

My first real experience with lego bricks was while I was hospitalized and recovering from severe neurological trauma as a result of medically-unexplained encephalitis. As part of my care, I was referred to “play therapy”, that is, play-based cognitive therapy. In my case, this meant being observed when given a tub of Lego bricks. I have come to regard this medicinal approach as ironic, given that Lego is derived from butchered danish meaning “play well”.

Whether it was the play therapy or the cocktail of drugs, I did recover, and, much to the pleasant surprise of my cognitive therapists, regained virtually all of the ability I had lost. Once I began to feel slightly better, I began to experiment with the up of bricks I had been assigned. I began to build structures atop the rolling tray table that was supposed to hold my food at mealtime. Eventually I was granted an extra tray solely for my creations. My myriad specialists were always impressed with my construction progress each time they came in for rounds.

Having truly nothing else to do, seeing as my access to the hospital’s computer entertainment systems had been suspended, and my TV time restricted after I had my first seizure, I began to devote more time to building a comprehensive city. It was escapism, and it was encouraged by all of my factors. Being limited on the number of bricks, I began to experiment with various methods of creating facades and Potemkin structures. I used the space inside these structures to smuggle extra condiments, seasonings, and small packages of foodstuffs.

Many weeks later, when my neutrophils plummeted to a point that I was in more imminent danger in the hospital than at home, I was, without buildup or ceremony, booted out of the hospital. Much to my disappointment, my grand City was disassembled and taken away (though I did get a passing chuckle upon seeing the look of the staff’s faces when discovering that my city contained in it more snacks and condiments than the ward kitchen). My parents were given a list of prescriptions, a list of symptoms to look out for, and a phone number to call if they should notice me having another seizure, but other than that, we were on our own.

As soon as I got my hands on another Lego set, I began building anew. Part of this was the obvious desire to reconstruct and avenge my previous creation. Mostly, though, it was a sense of comfort. It was something I could do, even in this strange new world of having to take pills that slowed down my thinking and avoiding strobes on the television. I could still build something, and I could do it in a format that was universal. Even if not everyone understood my specific logic of city planning, everyone could recognize an obvious house, or a farm, or a city park.

Looking back, it was about two years before my new city eclipsed that which I had built up using the hospital’s resources. My city went through its boom and bust cycles as I saved up my pocket money for new sets, and as I discovered new ways of structuring my buildings. While I enjoyed playing with the minifigures, constructing and imagining fierce battles between Star-Wars shock troopers and entrenched medieval wizards, what I enjoyed most of all was working on the city as a whole. Whether it was adding new buildings, or converting an unused plot into a massive skyscraper, or rerouting traffic to make it more efficient, I thrived on making the whole thing grow.

As time wore on, and the long term effects of sudden, massive brain trauma began to surface, I came to rely on my city as a place of solace. Perhaps I might be temporarily unable to read and write or even speak coherently. Perhaps a migraine had dashed all my plans to be productive and meet my goals. Perhaps I had simply had a bad day and required a break. Whatever the case, as long as I could manipulate my fingers with some degree of accuracy, I could build. I didn’t need to explain myself, or even conform to a set standard. I could build what I wanted. I could design my stories in three dimensions, not having to rely on my memory or my ability to convey concepts using words.

Having a massive Lego metropolis in our basement has become something of a self-fulfilling prophecy. Just like with any major collectible hobby, Lego sets have become the obvious choice for birthday and Christmas presents. Friends comment on the size of our display, which ensures that I make an effort to add to it, or at least, change it up, before people come over. It is a virtuous cycle. Personally, I do not believe our collection is particularly large. It always feels to me as though we are just a few sets short of a genuinely remarkable construction. On the other hand, we do have the largest collection of any person or family I have personally met.

Today, our city comprises four separate tables, and is divided loosely into zones. There is one zone which is a permanent combat scene, where an anachronistic stew of Star Wars troops and vehicles seek to dislodge the well-entrenched rebel base, comprised mostly of outdated fighters and crossbow-wielding knights. There is a touristy recreational area built around the newly-constructed Cinderella’s Castle and loosely based on the planning style of Disney World. There is the main citadel and downtown area, abound with skyscrapers and inner city traffic. Finally, there is the uptown district, comprising the theatre and historic castle fortress, as well as some urban industrial zones. All of them are constantly growing and changing. It is a constant, giant story, handmade, and never truly completed. It is simultaneously a metaphor for my own struggles, and a contrast to them.

On the Affordable Care Act

“Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils: freely ye have received, freely give.” – Book of Matthew 10:8

“Here then is the origin and rise of government; namely, a mode rendered necessary by the inability of moral virtue to govern the world” – Thomas Paine, Common Sense

I do not particularly like the Affordable Care Act. It is unwieldy, needlessly complex, and yes, it costs more than it probably needs to. But at the same time, and this is crucial, it is a vast improvement over the previous state of affairs. Not only this, but the continued coverage of our most vulnerable citizens by the Affordable Care Act is not only a moral necessity, but is critical to maintaining our democratic way of life.

While there is no law that states that a republic need aim to suppress inequality, there is a basic rule in economics and sociology that states that those who are truly impoverished; that is, those who cannot meet their basic needs, also cannot reasonably participate, in an informed way, at least, in a democratic process [6][7]. After all, if one needs to work continuously in order to continue to pay for life support, when exactly is one expected to register to vote, research candidates, call representatives, and actually vote?

It follows, then, that if the function and duty of the democratic-republican government is foremost to safeguard our inalienable natural rights against tyranny, as the founding documents and rhetoric of the United States seem to maintain [8], then the same government also has a mandate and a duty to ensure that citizens are at least not so crushed by poverty and circumstance as to effectively impugn upon those rights.

Such is the moral and constitutional basis for the Affordable Care Act. And while it may be argued that the program is not necessarily as efficient as we feel it perhaps ought to be, these are problems to be solved with a scalpel rather than a hatchet. The simple fact remains that without any sort of similar protection, millions of Americans afflicted with chronic conditions would not be in a state to exercise their rights to self-determination. Given that all but the most ardent anarchists maintain that it is the duty of the government to defend the rights of its vulnerable citizens, it follows that it is also the responsibility of the government to, if not provide healthcare outright, then to at least ensure that it does not become so much of a crushing burden as to prevent the free exercise of citizens’ rights.

To the patriotic, there is also the matter of showing that the United States is a civilized, developed nation capable of taking care of its citizens. It is no secret that the American healthcare system ranks extremely unfavorably with its fellow developed nations, and has often become the butt of jokes in such countries [9]. While the Affordable Care Act will in no way solve this discrepancy singlehandedly, it does go a ways towards closing the gap.

There are, of course, other benefits to a robust and accessible medical system more enticing to the self-interested. For starters, ensuring widespread, if not universal, coverage, will help mitigate the effects of the next major disease outbreak [5]. Given the distinct possibility that the next major outbreak will also be the pandemic that brings human civilization to the brink of collapse, a la the bubonic plague, having a healthcare system which allows for the timely containment and treatment of infected individuals is probably a worthwhile investment [1][5]. Given this, it is not unreasonable to equate the funding of the Affordable Care Act to that of Civil Defense, now under the auspices of Homeland Security. Notably, very few seem eager to defund the DHS.

It is also worth reiterating that the additional government investment in healthcare subsequent to the Affordable Care Act, has in fact brought in net savings. It is estimated that each dollar invested yields a return of approximately $1.35 [2],either in direct savings, fewer welfare payments, or increased tax revenues from newly enabled workers. Money spent on preventative care, such as vaccinations, well-visits, and related, which are notably the things least likely to be purchased by those who are not covered, yield returns of $5 for every $1 invested [3]. Spending on care for those with chronic preexisting conditions, who are only covered in the first place because of the Affordable Care Act, yield an ROI of approximately $3 for every $1 invested, not including additional benefits gained from the prevention of such conditions in vulnerable populations [1][2][4].

But all of this pales in comparison to the moral imperative to help one’s neighbor. Fascinatingly, many of the same figures who now exalt the Bible as the ultimate source of governmental direction seem to also be selectively ignoring the biblical mandate to help the poor and vulnerable. The Bible, for its part, is quite clear on the responsibility for all Christians; indeed, for all moral people, to provide for the humane treatment of the sick.

When I lived in Australia, healthcare was provided by the government as a matter of course. After all, how could a government provide freedom to a citizenry that was crippled by disease? How could anyone support a government which had the means to save the lives of its citizens, but chose not to for political reasons? How could anyone be proud of, or be expected to serve that country? Providing healthcare was viewed as part of what it meant to be a functional, first-world government.

As stated previously, I do not particularly like the Affordable Care Act. I think it was a lily-livered compromise. I am in agreement with the Universal Declaration of Human Rights that health, like life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, are inalienable human rights, and that anything short of a full guarantee to protect these rights is a failure of our government and society at a fundamental level. However, given the choice between the Affordable Care Act and what existed before it, I feel compelled to defend the ACA. If is a stopgap, to be sure, and an unwieldy one at that, but until such time as a reasonable replacement emerges, it is in the best interests of all involved to ensure that it remains in effect.

Works Cited:

1. “How Americans can get a better return on their health care investments.” Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, n.d. Web. 13 Jan. 2017.

2. Abrams, Melinda Abrams, Stuart Guterman Guterman, Rachel Nuzum Nuzum, Jamie Ryan Ryan, Mark Zezza Zezza, and Jordan Kiszla Kiszla. “The Affordable Care Act’s Payment and Delivery System Reforms: A Progress Report at Five Years.” (2015): n. pag. Web.

3. Armstrong, Edward P. “Economic Benefits and Costs Associated With Target Vaccinations.” Journal of Managed Care Pharmacy 13.7 Supp B (2007): 12-15. Web.

4. “Sustained Benefit of Continuous Glucose Monitoring on A1C, Glucose Profiles, and Hypoglycemia in Adults With Type 1 Diabetes.” American Diabetes Association. ADA, n.d. Web. 13 Jan. 2017.

5. “Infection prevention and control in health care for preparedness and response to outbreaks.” WHO. World Health Organization, n.d. Web. 13 Jan. 2017.

6. “Poverty Traps.” Research – Knowledge in Development Note: Poverty Traps. World Bank, n.d. Web. 13 Jan. 2017.

7. Whitley, E., D. Gunnell, D. Dorling, and G. D. Smith. “Ecological study of social fragmentation, poverty, and suicide.” Bmj 319.7216 (1999): 1034-037. Web.

8. United States of America. Continental Congress. The Declaration of Independence. By Thomas Jefferson. Washington, DC: National Archives and Records Administration, 1992. Print.

9. Munro, Dan. “U.S. Healthcare Ranked Dead Last Compared To 10 Other Countries.” Forbes. Forbes Magazine, 03 Feb. 2015. Web. 13 Jan. 2017.

Compulsion to Quarantine

I have a sign in my files which is pre-designed in case I should ever need to print it and place it on my door. It is one of many similar contingency plans I maintain just in case conditions should become such as to require immediate action on my part. Unlike most of the other contingencies which I maintain standing plans for, this one has actually happened to me before.

Here is a screenshot of the sign in question:

As you can see, this sign is designed to help enhance our house’s notably robust health precautions. Given the fact that I am not only immunocompromised, and thus more vulnerable to infections of all sort, but also physically disabled in such a way that makes treatment of acquired infections all the more difficult to treat, these relatively mundane precautions really are a matter of life and death.

In a perfect world, this would be a non-issue. In such a world, the appearance of any kind of infectious disease in a community, such as, to pick a relevant example, my high school, would result in an immediate and coordinated response to isolate and care for those affected, and to ensure that the disease is never allowed to spread. In such a world, the burden of ensuring that the sick receive adequate treatment to, if nothing else, avoid further spread of contagion, would be shared among all those potentially affected, which is to say, among all those that use community services and participate in community life.

Work would be provided for students who missed class, and absences due to illness would not be held against student advancement. Students would be encouraged to stay home and recover when sick, minimizing the overall impact of infection on the entire population. In such a world, it would be easy for me to attend school without fear of contracting illness and being hospitalized for a prolonged period, or worse, owing to the complications of my legally recognized disabilities.

Of course, this is not the world we live in. In our world at the present time, students rarely, if ever, stay home when contagious, or even when attending would be detrimental to their health. Having spent a considerable amount of time in my school nurses’ office, I can state categorically that it is vastly more likely for a given sick student to be sent home forcibly by the nursing staff than to be voluntarily taken home by parents, even when said students already have a clinically high fever and are obviously contagious. There are, of course, plenty of solid reasons why this is the case. Quite simply, the incentives created by the school administration are to blame.

For starters, ours is a terribly competitive school, where students are advised and compelled not only be parents and peers, but by staff advisors and counselors to take as many advanced placement and honors courses as can be logistically fit into a single schedule, without great regard for student interest or workload capability. This, in addition to a myriad of recommended extra-curricular activities and volunteer work. The nature of such courses is, obviously, to be quite intensive, and often unforgiving.

Furthermore, the fact that so many students, many of whom would probably be better served by courses that are “merely” honors or college-prep, are bumped up into higher echelon courses means that teachers are given the unenviable task of having to weed out those who oughtn’t be enrolled in the first place from those with genuine ability. This is accomplished primarily by a relentless onslaught of busywork designed to be taxing to even the best of students, and sufficiently crushing to those who lack the necessary conviction that they become compelled to drop those courses.

Naturally, this kind of curriculum is rigidly inflexible and unforgiving in such a way that missing one class becomes a major setback, and missing a week (the CDC’s recommended recovery time for seasonal influenza) is an effective death sentence. Teachers, who are as much burdened by the need to keep consistent and challenging curricula as the students are to keep up with it, are either too busy to meaningfully accommodate students who have been ill, or else are so jaded from years of having students cheat and evade work by any means in order to maintain a competitive edge, that they simply cannot effectively empathize.

Subsequently, it remains in the short term rational self interest of each individual student to continue coming to class for as long as they are physically capable, regardless of contagion risk, regardless of the long term harm that such exhaustion wreaks on an ill body. And after all, in the unlikely event that such a normally-healthy student is rendered so wretchedly close to death that they are forcibly removed from class, such a traumatic event will undoubtedly attract sympathy and support from the administration, only then providing the necessary accommodations.

This is, of course, only one part of a systematic incentive system which compels students to maintain their attendance regardless of health. There is still the larger problem of recorded absences. In our school, every absence after a certain number of days must be accompanied by a note from a licensed physician – even if standing orders exist from certified specialists to cover such eventualities. Failure to provide such documentation to the school’s liking results in automatic referral to Child Protective Services. This is still true, regardless of the age of the student. So, an eighteen year old who is completing high school will still require a parent to call in each day with a note from a licensed physician, under threat of referral to CPS.

As noted previously, even where absences are “excused”, actual class accommodations for said absences are never forthcoming. Thus, a culture of working oneself to death emerges, with students extolling the virtues of “working through a cold” unto one another. As with most discussions between adolescents, this naturally evolves into a sort of competitive posturing, with students all working to prove that they are the most devoted, most strong-willed, most likely to prevail against all other kinds of adversity.

And of course, if through this manner of working, one’s rivals should be exposed to some nasty pathogen that causes them sufficient pain to nudge the grading curve into a more favorable state, or else knock them out of the running for valedictorian, it might come to be seen that the proliferation of infection throughout the school is not entirely at odds with one’s own academic and political ambitions. In which case, what incentive is there for a rationally self-interested person to do anything but continue to attend regardless of contagion?

Thus it comes to pass that my school is, as my immunologist calls it, “the germ factory”, with seasonal outbreaks as reliable as the teachers’ quiz schedules. For most students who have normal physiologies and the robust immune systems to defend them, the occasional coronavirus or sinusitis is no great pain. At worst, it means a couple days carrying a box of tissues everywhere. But for me, these remain plan-derailing, life threatening catastrophes that likely end with me in the hospital.

Except as much as I wish myself to be above the stubborn self-damaging habits of my able-bodies comrades, I find myself in the same dilemma with regards to missing class. After all, why ought I to have to isolate myself, when I’m not even contagious? At a certain point, after a certain number of reported outbreaks, the strategic calculus changes enough to justify my own voluntary self-quarantine. This is especially true when the illness in question is a GI bug, which are, for a variety of reasons, my Achilles heel. But until that point, what can I do to balance my own safety against my education?

This is a question without a proper answer. In an ideal world, the burden would not be on me to sequester myself, but on others to ensure that they are not spreading contagious disease. But this is not the world we live in. We live in a world where the right thing to do, and the economically sensible thing to do are at odds. Ideally, this would be set right by a coordinated societal effort to realign the incentives with the morally and socially responsible choice. For the time being, I will keep my sign on the door.

Why I Write

It occurred to me while working on a previous speech for an event to question why I write. After all, I am not chronicling my adventures in order to sell them for a profit. I do write occasional pieces where I have a particular short-term objective to promote, but these are the exception rather than the rule.

What puzzles me further about my writing habits is that, in person, I am not terribly talkative. That is not to say that I am quiet- far from it. But I tend to keep myself fairly limited in conversation because I have noticed that in verbal form, people tend to tune out after the third paragraph or so, or else interrupt my train of thought and bring me off topic. So perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I have vastly more to express than I can reliably do so verbally.

This gets at part of the reason I write: I find it easier to express myself in text than by speaking. Although it loses the tone and body language, I find I have never been good at those things anyway. Aside from that, my chronic issues with sensory integration mean that I usually get to express only a fraction of what I actually have to say. This is incredibly frustrating, both in the moment, and later on when I begin to feel regret for not getting in everything I wanted.

This is one reason I feel compelled to write, and why I have a tendency to write long, largely unedited texts rather than short, fleeting social media posts. Despite my preference for privacy and seclusion, I feel deep anxiety that my story is remaining untold. Dealing with chronic disease means being constantly aware that consciousness is far from permanent. I know that any day I may be rendered incapacitated and unable to express the story of my life. Thus, I feel compelled to record what things I can express, and to share what ain’t have learned, so that whatever struggles I may endure shall not be in vain.

But more than this, I feel, in this day and age, that I, and indeed all citizens, have a responsibility to speak up. It has been suggested that among those who have traveled and experienced dislocation as children; that is, among those who identify less with a particular country or home than with abstract concepts and ideas, that there is a marked tendency to become detached. In choosing to be diplomatic and centrist we render ourselves dispassionate bystanders. In our silence, we give, if not consent, at least tacit acceptance. Such a state of affairs, while perhaps tolerable on the level of the individual, cannot be permitted to fester in a democratic society whose entire mandate to rule is based on the consent of the governed. Much as I disdain the gridlock of two-party political dynamics, a certain level of opposition is required to maintain a healthy democracy; if not to oppose the agenda of the ruling coalition outright, then at least to provide a starting point for the critical examination of both new and existing policy.

This is, in fact, the origin of the term “opposition” in the Westminster system. After several decades of rival political parties regarding and referring to each other as scarcely better than treasonous riffraff, a political editorialist coined the term “His Majesty’s most loyal opposition”, meant as a parody of the titles typically taken by government ministers. The intelligentsia of London found the term to be rather apt, seeing as the function of the opposition was mainly to question the work of government in order to ensure that it was fully thought out. It therefore behooves the citizen of the modern society to make known both their views, and the context which has compelled them to adopt such positions, so that both the ruling group, and the population at large is able to more easily come to the best policy conclusions. I have always believed in leading by example, and so I find myself writing.

Between these two reasons, I have my main cause for writing. But there is one more item which compels me to write – the joy of creation. I fundamentally enjoy building things. Whether those things are great constructions of building blocks, hand drawn sketches, board game strategies, or writing pieces, is ultimately of less relevance than the simple fact that I am making something. I am adding value to the world, and I can see the product of my work before me. This, in itself, is enough reason for me to enjoy writing, regardless of whether its perceived value to others.

Scientific Optimism

This past week I had the honor of attending Neil deGrasse Tyson’s 2016 Year in Review lecture alongside several comrades from our local astronomy club. While I’m not sure I can genuinely say I learnt anything I didn’t already know, it was nonetheless engaging to have the major successes and failures of the past year presented by one who has played such a large role in moving science into the popular vogue.

Science in pop culture was, in fact, one of the main topics of the lecture. The consensus reached was that while there remains a great deal to be done in terms of science literacy, being able to inspire people to be excited about scientific discoveries in the same way that people become excited about new blockbuster movies or the Oscars is a major step in reinvigorating the zeitgeist which enabled such massive leaps in scientific exploration and discovery of the 1960s and 70s. The photo above is from one such effort- Tyson’s cameo appearance in Zoolander 2.

There were, of course, less optimistic moments. Astrophysics has not been exempt from the slew of deaths that 2016 hath wrought, and concerns about the political situation, in particular the election of new leaders who have publicly denied scientific consensus on issues such as climate change and the origins of the cosmos, were overtly mentioned.

“Florida is basically at sea level, so Florida will be the first to go.” Tyson said in response, citing the elevation and terrain of the state in relation to rising sea levels. “That’s where his golf courses are. It’s going to be pretty hard for him to swim from hole to hole, and say it’s a Chinese hoax.”

While not exactly reassuring for the short term, this reflects the kind of quiet optimism that dominated the talk. It was reiterated that it does not particularly matter whether or not politicians deign to believe in scientific fact. Those who refuse to believe in observable phenomena will continue to be proven wrong. So long as they do not attempt to legislate their wrongness, or to use it to supplant the facts, he stated, we need not be particularly concerned with what others believe.

I have strongly mixed feelings about this attitude, as I fear it breeds complacency and elitism of the kind that has contributed to the political divide in this country, and which has been blamed partially for the rise of the “alt-right” and “post-truth” enclaves. In point of fact, I had the opportunity to discuss this point with a former member of the Clinton campaign shortly after the results of the election. I was adamant that it did not particularly matter the religious beliefs of those who had been elected; that it was their duty to govern based on the facts, and not what people claimed they wanted.

“That attitude is why Trump won.” He stated solemnly.

While I appreciate having faith that the scientific process will prevail, I think faith that people will always accept results is misplaced. Whether or not there is an objective truth to the universe one way or another, the fact remains that human observation and understanding of reality is colored and limited by our individual perceptions of reality. If human understanding, therefore, is limited by human perception, it is critical that we ensure that human perception is up to snuff.

While it may not be necessary for an absolute consensus on all subjects, if human progress is to be made most efficient, then it is necessary that enough people have an understanding of the facts to both make informed decisions on a political and social level, and to ensure the timely application of new discoveries on a technological and industrial level. In other words, in order for science and technology to genuinely improve our lives, it is required that they be widely understood enough to be applied. Prospective entrepreneurs need to be aware of technology in order to exploit it, and investors need to understand what there is to be gained by putting capital into cutting edge fields.

This, interestingly enough, was also touched upon in the talk, albeit not directly, when discussing the Nobel prizes awarded this year. The prizes awarded in physics had something to do with the geometric patterns of ultra-thin sheets of carbon; something which seems to most of us quite arcane and esoteric. To someone making a living in construction or farming, or even law or medicine, this work has no apparent application, and indeed might seem like a waste of effort to pursue; certainly not something work winning a Nobel prize over. Professor Tyson explained that this was precisely the same position that quantum physics was in through the first half of the 20th century. In contrast, today roughly a third of the world’s GDP relies directly on the discoveries of quantum physics.

In a perfect world, the truth would be easily recognizable when seen for the first time, and scientists and their followers could rest secure in the knowledge that their discoveries would be disseminated and understood without conscious effort. Unfortunately, we do not live in such a world. While I do fully expect that science and technology will continue advancing regardless of the sociopolitical climate, it remains paramount that we continue our efforts to ensure that the largest number of people are educated to a level to understand and participate in mankind’s drive for advancement. The battle for hearts and minds today is not merely a matter of determining research funding for the next four years, although this is certainly relevant; it is a matter of determining who will be in a position to make tomorrow’s next great discoveries and breakthroughs. It is in the interests of all humanity for that number of people to be as large as possible.

In closing, I would like to mention a brief incident which transpired towards the end of the event. Having finished with the main lecture, the floor was opened up to questions from the audience. A flamboyantly dressed man took the microphone, stating that he had “travelled over many thousands of miles” to present Dr. Tyson with a disc containing evidence he had collected while crossing the Nevada desert, of something in the sky “unlike any system we’ve ever seen”. The room was silent as the man explained that he had taken the evidence to various news outlets, and to NASA, all of whom had turned him away. Ever the scientist, Tyson explained that, while skeptical that such an alien phenomenon as the man seemed to imply would not have also been noticed by many others, he would nonetheless accept the disk and review it.

After the whole thing had finished, the astronomy teacher who had been with us asked us what we had taken away. My response was unequivocally that, should it come to pass in two weeks or so, that an announcement is made from NASA or the like regarding the discovery of extraterrestrial life, we would know that the man was right, and we would all have been present for a critical moment in scientific history. That notion is perhaps more inspiring than anything else that evening; that such a discovery could conceivably be made within our lifetime, and that, by being up to date and educated, we might be able to share in the new discovery. This is why I feel science literacy is critical to our future – because it will enable such terrific discoveries, and increase the likelihood that they will have a positive benefit on all of us.