Why don't you all fade away

Last night someone said I was an angry person. This really jarred me, because I’m usually pretty prepared for whatever criticisms people have of me. Angry is one of the last words I’d use to describe myself, and most people that know me would probably say I’m a pretty even-tempered person. There are things that I resent for good reason, and I guess if that makes me an angry person, then I’m an angry person.

If being a feminist makes me an angry person, they I guess I’m an angry person.

If being resentful of the treatment of foodservice workers makes me an angry person, I’m an angry person.

If being generally dissatisfied with the unsatisfactory actions of politicians and their supporters, then I guess I’m turning into the Hulk.

If angry is an attitude that situations can and should be improved, I’d like to think we’d have an angry mob roaming the streets by now. But angry is an emotional reaction. My resentment is perfectly rational.

English speakers seem to have trouble with the myriad subject/object distinctions. Few of my friends know the difference between the subject and object of a sentence, the words subjective and objective are constantly misused in the media, and, as I have recently noticed, a lot of girls don’t actually know what it means to be objectified. 

I’m writing a paper on adolescence under “post-feminism”, or what I’m calling “free market feminism” and some of the papers I’ve read contain interviews with pre-teen and teen girls. One theme I’ve noticed, both in these interviews and in my experience talking with girls I know, is that the ‘object’ in objectification is defined incorrectly, or at least incompletely. The ‘object’ they refer to is the most simply defined: that which is not living, as in ‘inanimate object’. Girls feel like boys and men are obviously not seeing them a litteral ‘objects’ in the sense of ‘things’ and shelve the problem of objectification away with other remnants of a feminism that is supposedly no longer relevant. 

The less understood definition of ‘object’ is that which is contrasted with ‘subject’, as in that which receives the action of the subject (That most kids my age don’t know this distinction is a testament to the stellar high school english courses we all attended). The ‘object’ in objectification refers to what is acted upon, as opposed to the subject, which does the action. The problem of the objectification of female bodies is not that men view women as inanimate ‘things’, but that they view them as beings to be acted upon.  

Under this broader definition of objectification, we can see that it is still very much prevalent in today’s society of ‘female empowerment’ and ‘individual choice’. 

So I’m pretty sure that video games don’t significantly influence behaviour. Teenage boys have aggressive tendencies because of the crazy hormones running through their bodies, and I think they’re able to tell the difference between fantasy and reality.

That being said, I could be wrong, so I propose we prepare ourselves for this possibility. If kids learn from video games in a monkey-see monkey-do kind of way, then we should make sure we don’t let the monkeys see stuff we don’t want them to do. In the same vein, perhaps we should have them see what we do want them to do. They want violence, so let’s embrace that, but instead of preparing them for war and teaching them to kill other people, perhaps we ought to teach them more useful and socially acceptable forms of violence: killing zombies and aliens. This way, kids aren’t influenced to harm other people, and we gain the added bonus of a trained army of hormonal teenagers when the zombie/alien apocalypse arrives. Teenage boys will never buy the whole “make love not war” thing (they’ll just do both) so let’s change the slogan to “kill zombies, not people.”

When is a bike mechanic not a mechanic? When he can’t fix or build anything but bikes. A recent discussion with friends over the lack of skilled bike mechanics in my neighbourhood made me think about another consequence to the age of information. Specific, step-by-step instructions for almost any task are posted somewhere on the internet, allowing anyone with no previous experience in a specific field to accomplish these tasks with relative ease. This is surely a great advantage when it comes to your average joe needing to install shelving or make a powerpoint presentation, the problem comes when the mastery of specific tasks is taken more seriously, to the point where we consider ourselves “experts”.

In this way, a bike enthusiast becomes a bike mechanic without understanding mechanics, an animé enthusiast becomes an anime artist without understanding the foundations of art, and an anything-enthusiast becomes a blog writer without knowing much of anything about writing. There is nothing inherently wrong with more people knowing how to fix bicycles, draw anime or write popular articles, but those who jump into a specific field are limiting themselves severely.

I first thought about this phenomenon when my local bike mechanic was unable to solve problems he hadn’t previously encountered or been trained to solve. My father, on the other hand, who has little experience with bikes, but a strong understanding of simple mechanics, was able to identify the problem quickly and devise a way to fix it without knowing what parts he was talking about. I think it is this problem-solving ability that so-called specialists will find they lack.

To build on a cliche, by learning only the specifics of your field, you place yourself into a box. Without the generalized knowledge of the basic concepts you’re working with, you can’t think yourself out of this box. This same issue limits creativity and innovation: the most creative, unconventional artists and writers did not start by splattering paint on a canvas of writing out streams of consciousness, they learned all that previous masters had discovered and taught, and were able to extend on the vast knowledge they acquired.

If that last paragraph seems obvious, thats because it is. All pedagogical method is based upon the concept of moving from the general to specific, education moves from the general in grade and high school, to the increasingly specific in undergraduate studies, to the extremely (sometimes absurdly) specific study of post-graduate work. Again, this is all obvious. But if it is so obvious, why do so many of us ignore this time-tested method?

The answer is also obvious: impatience. We can hardly be faulted for this natural human trait, but in the case of education it does us more harm than good. In a fast-paced world it’s increasingly difficult to devote the necessary amount of time to learning the basics, and in many cases, the differences between the long-studied master and the impatient quick-learner are hard to notice. If you charge more for a service because of your years of experience and education, you will be beaten by inexperienced, cheaper competition, when untrained eyes will perceive the same quality.

So if we can’t see a difference, why is there a problem? First of all, I think the spreading of knowledge and skill through the internet is an overwhelmingly positive phenomenon, but like everything else about the internet, it moves dangerously quickly. The consequences may not be initially aparent, but as we become used to lower quality at higher volumes, the field is ultimately cheapened. Innovation and problem-solving are limited as those who put the time in to learn the basics struggle to find space in their crowded fields.

I’m not advocating that a university education is the only way to assure quality, or proposing that only those lucky enough to have free time can gain skill, I’m just arguing that if you want to take your field seriously, and want others to take you seriously, please learn your shit.