Doing the right thing in uncertain times

(Note: I wrote the original post about 10 months ago, but am only publishing it now. I have edited it since then, both for content, clarify, and style. But it's essentially the same post.) 

I won't disclose what I do for a living or where exactly I work, but I can say that I work in an academic adjacent job at a very big public institution with locations in five cities and possibly more than 20,000 employees.

My employer has apparently commanded all its units to eliminate DEI requirements for hiring and for assessing job performance. 

The details are frustratingly vague, and the process by which my employer arrived at this decision is even vaguer. It's not clear who in the institution's top management are responsible for the order. It's not clear why they are making the order. Have they been threatened directly by the present administration? Are they acting in compliance with a recent (last summer) memo from the Department of Justice? Are they doing anticipatory compliance in the hopes that the institution will not be a target for more drastic changes?

Read below the fold for more:

Myth busting doesn't work: Lipoprotein(a)

Here is another of my occasional posts about how "myth busting" doesn't work.When you see someone offering to refute a "myth" with "facts," that's usually a sign that you're about to see an unhelpful, or even dishonest, argument. Not always and not necessarily, but usually. 

For this post, I'll be talking about a "myth/fact" sheet offered by the American Heart Association about lipoprotein(a), or lp(a).  

The American Heart Association offers a "myth/fact" sheet [PDF] about lipoprotein(a), or lp(a). In this case, it's less dishonest than it is unhelpful and perplexing--and clumsy. Read below the fold for more.

Reflections on Pluribus, season 1

Here are some more or less random reflections on the TV show Pluribus. This isn't a review. And I'll assume you've seen the show. So I won't be summarizing much. 

Spoilers follow below the fold for the show and two other shows, Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul.

Reflections on "Severance" [the television series]

I've just finished watching the first two seasons of the Apple TV series "Severance." Apparently, the creators are working on a third season. I have some thoughts so far and would like to share them.

I should warn you right off the bat that this blogpost has spoilers, some of them major. So you continue reading at your own risk.

Weaponizing "weaponizing"

One of Mr. Trump's first executive orders is titled "Ending the Weaponization of the Federal Government."  (Full text below the fold)

In that order, Mr. Trump complains that the Biden administration had engaged

in a systematic campaign against its perceived political opponents, weaponizing the legal force of numerous Federal law enforcement agencies and the Intelligence Community against those perceived political opponents in the form of investigations, prosecutions, civil enforcement actions, and other related actions.

For the sake of this blog post, let's not dispute that claim. Let's assume it's generally accurate. With that assumption, what is Mr. Trump's solution?

[read below the fold to continue]

Half-useful advice

The Cleveland Clinic has a short article on Seven Early Warning Signs of a Heart Attack. It's useful, but only half-useful.

It's useful because it lists symptoms that many of us might not think of when it comes to heart attacks.

1. Pressure or tightness in your chest (rather than pain).
2. Pain in areas such as your arms, jaw, neck or back.
3. Cold sweats.
4. Heartburn or indigestion.
5. Shortness of breath.
6. Nausea or vomiting.
7. Unusual fatigue.
   

I can easily see laypeople not knowing, for example, that cold sweats, arm pain, nausea, or "unusual fatigue" might augur heart trouble. So in that sense, this article is useful.

But what I'd like to see is some sort of discussion on how to interpret these symptoms. Not all arm pain, for example, is heart related, not even most. It's unclear when to be concerned.

The article offers the advice that "[i]f there’s even a chance you think you’re having a heart attack, act quickly to get emergency care." The problem is, there's always "a chance" you're having a heart attack. How do you know when it's a big enough chance to be concerned as opposed to, say, something that theoretically could be happening but is probably not?

I don't mean to glib here. Heart attacks are scary. If someone thinks they're having one, they should call 911. I also understand that public health messaging has to look at worst case scenarios and even "most plausibly bad case scenarios." If I were writing such articles, I'd want to err on the side of encouraging readers to believe false positives than to believe false negatives.

But I'd really like some guidance on how to balance out those types of symptoms.

Unsolicited advice for pro-Palestinian activists

I have very complicated views, rational and emotional, about what's going on in Israel and Palestine. I won't detail them here. I'm not ready to. Instead, I offer advice for those who advocate for the Palestinian cause:

Dedicate the October 7 anniversary to mourning the victims of Hamas's attack. Set aside, for one day, all talk of why Israel is in the wrong. Set aside, for one day, all talk of why the US response is insufficiently pro-Palestinian or too much pro-Israeli. The day before and the day after the anniversary--discuss your critiques. But dedicate the day to mourning the violence that set off this round of the conflict.

I advise that because it's the right thing to do. We should acknowledge and mourn victims. 

But it's also tactically wise. Doing what I suggest demonstrates that the activists are not guilty of the blood lust they're so often accused of. Dedicating the day to flipping the narrative of "I don't approve of what Hamas did, but...."* to "It's wrong what Hamas did" and "The people who were murdered and kidnapped were human beings of intrinsic value, loved by others, and capable of all the good and bad anyone of us is capable of"--doing that centers the humanity of the activists and underscores the sincerity of their wish to establish a peaceful solution.

If the activists can't do that, then one might doubt their sincerity. To be clear, some lacking sincerity doesn't mean all or even most lack sincerity. And lack of sincerity doesn't necessarily mean the insincere are wrong.

*For the record, I don't necessarily criticize people for saying "I don't support x, but...." because talking any morally complicated problem sometimes requires us to say "but," "however," and "nevertheless."

The Trump verdict

A New York jury has convicted Donald Trump of 34 felony counts related to some hush money he paid some news outlets, with the goal of influencing the 2016 presidential election. Or that's the story I took from my brief perusal of some Washington Post articles and from Ken White and Josh Barro's Serious Trouble podcast.

At any rate, I'm happy to see Mr. Trump convicted of a crime. I hope, but am not very optimistic, that it will move the needle enough to ensure he won't win reelection.

However, my gladness at Mr. Trump's conviction is tempered by the fact that I simply assumed he was guilty. Since his election, many, many others in my circle of friends and acquaintances have been explaining how Mr. Trump deserves to go to jail and how they'll relish his imprisonment when it arrives. 

My acquaintances have been calling for Mr. Trump's imprisonment long before they could cite any criminal act he had allegedly done. They knew they didn't like him. The believed (as I did and do) that he was a horrible person and a dangerous president, but they didn't know of an actual crime. They made up their mind that he must be guilty of something. Or if not, he's an enemy and must be imprisoned.

Maybe not all of my acquaintances. Maybe some of them relied on actual facts. Maybe they used their deep, deep knowledge of criminal law, their years and years of legal training, and their insider familiarity with Mr. Trump's actions to arrive at the conclusions they did. But it's just quite possible that some of them didn't have that knowledge or training or insider familiarity. Maybe, just maybe, some of them were as ignorant as I was and am.

While I don't think I went as far as hoping he'd be criminally prosecuted (my memory may be faulty), I wanted him impeached from the start. Wanting impeachment isn't the same thing as wanting criminal prosecution. It's a political statement. It's like trying to remove a president for firing a cabinet member, or for undermining our justice system by lying under oath to a grand jury. But my reasoning was similar to my acquaintances'. Of course, later on, it was clear (to me) that he did things to qualify for impeachment and maybe criminal prosecution. But I started wanting impeachment long before it was clear to me he had committed any "high crime or misdemeanor." 

The truth is, the main reason I wanted Mr. Trump to be found guilty because I don't want him to be president again, and I hope a guilty verdict will prevent his winning. I suppose I have other reasons, too. And maybe one of them is the sincere desire to see justice done, even though I'm not always sure I truly, deep down want justice and even though I suspect many (maybe most) others deep down share my inclination. What they want (and probably what I want) is revenge more than justice.

(An aside: I'm also uneasy about the crime he is convicted of, assuming I understand it correctly. I'm not sure why it's a crime, and I'm not sure it should be a crime. But many of my acquaintances have known all along that he's guilty. So they must be right.)

I'm sure Mr. Trump will rely on that desire for revenge and for preventing his presidency. He will claim he's not really guilty, but merely a victim of malicious prosecution. I believe that claim is probably false, notwithstanding my (layperson's) concern about the law he was convicted of violating. But even so, Mr. Trump will have a point when he states, as he inevitably will if he hasn't already, that people have been after him from the get go.

Myth busting doesn't work: sugar and hyperactivity

I say this a lot, but beware when someone says they're busting a "myth." Whenever someone points out a myth that they're correcting, that's a sign you're highly likely to get a dishonest argument. I'm not sure why. It's not like there aren't wrong things believed by people that can and should be corrected. But for some reason, when someone identifies something as a "myth" and then goes about debunking it, they often (usually, even almost always) seem to go off the rails.

For this blog post, let's look at a Washington Post article (probably pay walled), "Does eating too much sugar really make kids hyper?" The article starts with a question: "Is it true that eating lots of sugar causes hyperactivity in kids?" It says that parents "long have blamed their children’s 'bouncing off the wall' behavior on eating too much sugar, but experts say there’s no truth to it."

The expert they consult says, "It’s a myth that sugar causes hyperactivity." How does he know this? Well, in the 1990s, he conducted studies " that disproved the notion that sugar causes attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) in children."

The article also cites the CDC, which the article quotes as saying, "research doesn’t support the popularly held views that ADHD is caused by eating too much sugar, watching too much television, parenting, or social and environmental factors such as poverty or family chaos."

Do you see what the did here? The article starts by asking whether sugar makes kids hyperactive and continues by explaining there's a myth that sugar makes kids "bounc[e] off the walls." Then it goes to experts who address a different question, which is whether sugar causes attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder." 

To my mind, there are two questions here, not one. One question is whether sugar causes ADHD. The other is whether sugar makes kids hyper. The experts and the article answer only the first question. But the article frames the answer as addressing both questions. 

Now, there's a little wiggle room for what the article is doing. First, the author could credibly claim that by asking whether sugar makes kids "hyperactive," they're actually asking whether sugar causes "attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder."

Sigh. Maybe. But I suspect that when a lay reader sees the term "hyperactive," they don't necessarily think of ADHD or clinical behavior, especially when "hyperactive" is followed by a sentence talking about kids "bouncing off the walls." Maybe ADHD involves kids "bouncing of the walls," but kids sometimes bounce off the walls even if they don't have ADHD. Does sugar contribute to the latter? We don't know from the article.

Second, the studies from the 1990s, from the article's reporting, found no connection between sugar consumption and "normal" behavior. And maybe that means the studies address behavior different from that typical of ADHD. Maybe? Possibly?

Later in the article, we find that certain chemicals kids are exposed to, such as red dye no. 3, may, according to some studies, contribute to "hyperactivity and other behavioral problems in children." (I assume they're referring to ADHD and not just "hyperactivity" in general.) But that point seems to contradict the earlier statement I quoted from the CDC that I'll requote, with bold added by me: "research doesn’t support the popularly held views that ADHD is caused by eating too much sugar, watching too much television, parenting, or social and environmental factors such as poverty or family chaos." Red dye no. 3 seems like an environmental factor to me, as in, something in the child's environment that contributes to their condition.

So the "myth" is busted only if it states that ADHD is caused by too much sugar. But I don't think that "myth" is typically what people mean when they posit a relationship between sugar and "hyperactivity." They typically just mean that when kids eat sugar, they get more energetic and rambunctious than when they don't. They probably don't usually mean to insist that sugar itself is the cause of a clinical condition.

Maybe sometimes they do mean that. If so, fine. The article can debunk that "myth." But why not just clarify that's the "myth" it's debunking?

A real apology

In Cook County, Illinois, the race for the Democratic nominee for state's attorney (pretty much the same thing as a district attorney in other places), is very narrow. The primary was held a week ago (Tuesday, March 19, 2024) and the mail-in ballots are still being counted. 

There's been some confusion on when the mail-in ballots were counted and when they should have been. Some ballots apparently were received the day before the actual primary day. The chair of the board chose to postpone counting those ballots, presumably because he believed counting them would have slowed the process and that those ballots probably wouldn't have determined the outcome of the race. In other words, he didn't think the race would be as close as it was.

Here is the Chicago Sun-Times quoting him:

"'I traded speed for accuracy in reporting out numbers this week as quickly as I could,' Bever [Election Board Chair] said. 'I truly regret this error on my part and for the confusion that it has caused the voters of Chicago.'"

Assuming there's nothing more to the context that the Sun-Times has left out, that's quite a good apology. Short, to the point, and taking responsibility for a decision that turned out to be wrong.  

I'm sometimes critical of demands for "real apologies" and of criticisms against alleged "non-apology apologies." The people who make those demands tend to be very selective in how they apply those demand, and they often don't practice what they preach. The alleged "non-apology apologies" are very often more sincere than they're given credit for. Or the same people calling for sincere apologies would denounce actually sincere apologies. Or the alleged "non-apology apologies" still serve a very useful, sometimes more useful purpose than a "real apology" would have been.

But it's refreshing to see a real apology when it's actually made.

IVF is different

[Note: I edited this post substantially on March 8, 2024]

You may have heard of the recent Alabama Supreme Court case that identifies embryos, created through the in-vitro fertilization process (IVF) and then frozen, as children. At least, that's how the Washington Post describes the decision [paywall]. I haven't read the actual case and am prepared for it to have said something a little different. But the gist appears to be that the court recognizes IVF embryos as human and states people can be sued for wrongful death if they mishandle the embryos.

With that decision comes the usual concern about the courts' ever stronger restrictions against abortion rights. I understand that concern. But I see an important distinction here. In cases of unwanted pregnancies, the zygote/embryo is enmeshed with the body of the woman. Whether it is a human life or not, its existence is so implicated with the woman's body, that it is a part of her body. 

I believe someone can accept that view and can believe that therefore the woman has the moral prerogative to abort and ought to have the legal right to do so--all the while believing, as I do, that life begins at conception. One can hold both those views consistently.

IVF is different.

I don't like Dr. Strangelove (the film)

(Note: I edited this post on January 23, 2024. Most of my edits were to clarify or fix typos or bad phrasings. But I also added an explanatory sentence to one of my paragraphs.)

I'm not a fan of the film Dr. Strangelove. I don't like it. I'm supposed to like it. I'm supposed to find it hilarious. But I don't like it. 

I don't find it funny, certainly not laugh-out-loud funny. To be clear, when I saw it, I chuckled at a few things. But I didn't find any of the jokes "side-splitting" and I didn't start "crying with laughter" (those quotations are from Simon Dillon's review of the film, but characteristic of how I hear most fans describe it).

I understand the jokes. I know why I'm supposed to laugh. I just don't want to. Yes, I get the irony and satire. I know, for example, why "peace is our profession" is supposed to be a ridiculous motto for a branch of the military. (However, it doesn't take much effort to understand the argument that a strong military is necessary to ensure peace. Understanding the argument doesn't mean you have to agree with it, but it can temper the supposed hilarity.)

Maybe satire is what's intended when Slim Pickens's character jumps on the bomb at the end of the film and rides it down from the plane howling like a cowboy. I don't know. Maybe the message is that bomber pilots are ridiculously crazy? Again, I know that it's supposed to be a funny but also a "man, that's a deep critique" scene. But I find it more annoying than humorous.

Dr. Strangelove the character isn't all that funny. Again, I get the satire. The U.S. (and probably the Soviet Union) used former Nazi scientists to advise them on weapons systems. And Dr. Strangelove is a former Nazi scientist who has a hard time preventing his hand from springing up in a Hitler salute. I get the humor, but frankly I don't find it "weeping-with-laughter hysterical," to again quote Simon Dillon.

People who know the film know that Peter Sellers plays three of the characters, including Dr. Strangelove. You know Peter Sellers, right? He's a very, very talented actor who we're all supposed to like. I'm just not super impressed by him. Granted, he probably really is a great actor, but to me he's just an actor. And three roles? Maybe in 1964 that was a new thing. But in 1997, when I saw the film, it was a tired old ploy. And even in 1964, it was just the same guy playing three roles.

What's the argument of the film? That nuclear war is bad? Who doesn't believe that? Who didn't believe that in 1964? Okay, maybe Curtis LeMay. Maybe a few others who aren't actually disturbed individuals. But even most of those who advocate for Nuclear Utilization Target Selection don't look forward to what the world will look like when it's put into practice. They probably see it as a grim tactic for a grim situation and a grim time.

Another potential argument for the film: Defense systems and plans might have a logic of their own and start a war even when those responsible don't want that to happen. Or related: One rogue person might make decisions that activates those systems and starts a war that world leaders don't want. As arguments go, those are good ones, I guess. They're worth thinking about. But I can think about it without pretending to laugh at the fact that one character is named "Bat Guano" and another is named "Rex Turgidson."

Look, too many people like the film for me to be confident that it's as bad as I think it is. Maybe the emperor really has clothes. (I dislike the "emperor no clothes" aphorism, but I'm using it now.) But maybe, just maybe, others feel as I do, that they're expected to like the movie but that they don't really find it funny or even a good film. 

Post script: In the above blog post, I pull a lot of quotations from Simon Dillon's review of Dr. Strangelove. I obviously don't share his enthusiasm for that movie. I used his review because it is emblematic of the type of praise I hear about that film. But I want to say that Dillon is worth reading, and I enjoy his blog very much and recommend it.

Teach us to sit still [UPDATED]

[UPDATE Dec. 4, 2023: I've decided to buy another fitbit tracker. Even so, I'll keep this post up.]

I'm taking a pause from my fitness tracker. (I'm not disclosing the brand name of the tracker I use. Just think of Bart Simpson calling his frisbee a "novelty flying disk," and you can probably guess which tracker it is.) 

The reasons are many.

Maybe not the best tactic?

While walking home from work yesterday, I encountered a crowd of people protesting US policies in Israel and Palestine.The protestors called themselves pro-Palestine and wanted a "free Palestine." 

One of the protestors was screaming at a police officer. I didn't witness the entire interaction, so there may be something I'm missing, but I did hear the protestor say something like the following to the officer:

You should be on our side. You're just service the white cishet male power structure.

That's a paraphrase because I don't have a perfect phonographic memory--but as far as paraphrases go it's pretty exact, I believe.

That's probably not the best tactic. As a non-activist, I'm in the cheap seats, but it seems to me the campaign for a "free Palestine" faces a lot of hurdles. One of the most important hurdles is to get people to care about it and endorse it.

I suspect that using the campaign to combat the "white cishet male" power structure doesn't do much to bring about that end. For one thing, a very large majority of people are "cishet," A smaller, but in the US still significant, number of people (maybe still a majority?) are white. A large number, maybe 50% or maybe a little less, are male. I don't think baiting them for their identities is the way to win them over. 

And for what it's worth, I suspect the male cishet population of Palestine is robustly represented. "White" may be another story, depending on how you define whiteness. But while admitting I'm not expert, I venture that "whiteness" operates differently in Israel and Palestine from how it does in the US. Unlike some people, apparently, I'm not inclined to impose my western imperialist framing of whiteness onto other peoples about whom I know little.

Yes, I realize the "white male cishet" power structure is different from "white male cishet." You can be "white male cishet" and yet not support the current power structure or at the very least see the way things currently are as problematic. Someone might even argue that "white male cishet normativity" is in some way the basis of the world's problems with violence. (Add something about patriarchy, too, I guess. But I suppose that term "privileges" men somehow.)

But c'mon. The immediate problems facing Palestinians aren't the "white cishet male" power structure. That power structure, if it exists and if it's at all implicated in what's going on, is at least secondary. 

I offer no comment here on my stance on the issue of "free Palestine" or Israel's response to the Oct. 7, 2023 attacks or what the response of the US should be. I have conflicted feelings. I'm all over the place. 

I do hope for peace.

iPhone SE looks just like you

About 2 months ago, after years of resistance, I succumbed and bought my first smartphone.

Before that, I had the standard flip phone. I liked it. It worked well for me. But two important reasons prompted me to change.

First, I wasn't sure that the flip phone was all that durable. I didn't know when it would break, and I didn't know how to quickly (within a week or so) get a replacement when it broke. So at least a smartphone is supposedly supported and in the (big) city I live in, it's easy to find an outlet to get a replacement. Add to all that the fact I can afford a smartphone and the data costs associated with them.

Also, smartphones have a couple features I might need. The chief feature is ride share apps. I\m not enthusiastic about ride sharing, but I'd like to have the option if or when I need one. There are fewer and fewer taxi options, and I'm getting old enough that I need a plan B if the bus isn't coming for a while and 1) it doesn't feel safe to walk or 2) it's too far to walk. 

Another feature (if we can call it that) is that it generally has better roaming capabilities and can be used outside the US. I travel to other countries very rarely, but it's nice to be able to have a way to call and do things. I know that theoretically a flip phone can be used out of the country if the plan is changed and something something something SIM card. But I've never once successfully managed to do that. It's easier (though still not easy) to arrange for a smartphone to do the trick abroad.

Smartphones have their disadvantages. 

An obvious one is they're more of a they're more of a theft risk. Flip phones may be having their moment as a kitschy, ironic, and anti-commercialism toy. That is, in fact, one reason I'm not confident I could get a new one. Places probably don't carry them and those that do are probably out of them because of the kitsch fans. That said, I was  never all that worried someone would steal the one I had. I was worried I might lose it. But that challenge comes with smartphones, too.

Smartphones are addictive. I see the temptation. I browse as much online (on my desktop) computer as anyone, and I have a video/strategy game that I can play for hours at a time, zoning out all outside encumbrances, if I'm not careful. Both browsing and gaming are fine when done in moderation and (in the case of browsing) with purpose. I don't do those in moderation. I don't need one more thing to be addicted to. 

Smartphones can be socially isolating. I recall one academic event I was at about six months ago (well before I got my smartphone). I was there to judge the work of junior researchers at a fair my university was putting on. I sat at a round table with maybe 5 or 6 others, one of whom I actually knew. And they were all focused on their smartphones. Now, I'm as socially anxious and avoidant as most people, and even more avoidant than some. And I was grateful not to have to make small talk. I'm not sure how much different avoiding people by staring at a smartphone is from avoiding people by reading a book I've brought with me. But it just seemed wrong to me in a way that's different and hard to explain. (And for what it's worth, I had forgotten to bring a book to that event.)

There's another disadvantage to smartphones that's hard to explain, something malign and almost evil. Smartphones are almost like the reverse televisions from Orwell's 1984 that people were required by law to keep on. As I said in a post at Hit Coffee several years ago (A Voluntary Surveillance):

In 1984, the narrator mentions screens that enable the government to observe citizens in their own homes. Citizens were not permitted to turn these screens off. For quite a while I’ve seen a correlation between these surveillance screens and internet access, cell phones, and now i-phone technology, the main difference being that we choose to use them. We can turn them off, and we do, but we depend on them nevertheless.

These devices make us “observable” to others, not necessarily or only to the state, but in a way that potentially guides our actions and maybe even the way we think.

We are more and more legible to others. The legibility is not only to the state, but also to others: employers and vendors, for example.

And it's not just about legibility. It's also control. Smartphone technology is a system. And like most (all?) technological systems, it guides us along certain pathways. And while we can often deviate from those pathways, it's difficult to do so. In a formal sense, that problem has been around as long as there have been pathways. Thoreau discovered it at Walden pond when he noted he had worn a trampled path on a walk he took regularly around his abode. Whatever the problem is, it certainly didn't start with smartphones. The internet (the subject of my Hit Coffee post), preceded by drivers licenses, selective service enrollment--you'd have to go back pretty far to find no controls of that sort. In fact, you'd probably be forced to hypothesize some unattested state of nature.

But smartphones and the "social media" technology of which they're a part seem different. Maybe the difference is only in degree and not in kind, but the difference is in such a degree that it's almost a difference in kind. Or if it's "only" a difference in degree, then it's still a pretty big degree.

 

On vegetable prescriptions

An article in the Washington Post highlights a study that supposedly shows doctors should prescribe vegetables to address cardiovascular conditions, like high blood pressure and what not. (The link, it's probably paywalled but not worth paying for if you're not already a subscriber.) 

You can say the usual thing about media reporting on scientific studies. Namely, the conclusion stated or implied in the headline oversells what the study, on closer inspection, actually tells us. The study had no control group. The good health outcomes may have been from eating vegetables, but also may have been from alleviating food insecurity because the study's subjects were poorer people who were given vouchers for farmers' markets. And the doctors interviewed make the unsurprising claim that vegetables are probably good for you but we need more research (and more money for more research) in order to explore precisely why and how that's the case.

In that way, it's an unremarkable article. But I clicked on it and read it because the "vegetable prescription" seems to have worked for me. 

About two and a half years ago, I was diagnosed with high blood pressure. My doctor advised me to eat more vegetables. I did. My blood pressure seems to have improved, all without medication.

I'll knock on wood and maybe throw a hefty dose of salt over my shoulder. I should focus on the "seems" when I say my blood pressure improved. My home monitoring device says it's improved, but it doesn't usually seem to be all that better when I visit the doctor. I also distrust that device and my ability not to influence its score. (I'm not sure how I might influence it, but I'm just putting it out there that I might be affecting the outcome by how I measure it.) Also, I read somewhere (I forget the exact title, but it was actually a book and not a website) that even though diet can improve the blood pressure score, it doesn't fix blood pressure in the way that medication can and that therefore hypertensive people should probably still take medication.

Still, the vegetables seem to have helped. To be clear, I've also cut my sodium intake quite dramatically. And before I was diagnosed, I ate almost no vegetables. Now, I try to force feed myself 3 to 4 servings a day, along with whole grains and fruit.

I realize I'm only an N of 1, and a very privileged N at that. I've never known food insecurity and feel I don't have the standing to lecture poorer people on their dietary choices. But it all seems, so far, to work for me.

Jonathan Zimmerman has an AI policy

There's a certain kind of argument academics-qua-instructors use, where they boldly announce a policy and then act in contradiction to that policy. In this blog post, I'll relate one example.

In a recent (August 29, 2023) Washington Post column, Jonathan Zimmerman, a college professor, announces he has no AI policy for his students [pay walled, probably]. His university--i.e., his employer--requires him to make a policy, and his response: 

So here's my AI policy: I don't have one.

Instead, he offers his student a version of the "if you cheat, you're only cheating yourselves" argument. An excerpt of what he tells his students:

I want you to be intelligent. I want you to stare at a blank page or screen for hours, trying to decide how to start. I want to you to write draft after draft and develop a stronger version of your own ideas. I want you to be proud of what you accomplished, not ashamed that you cut corners.

After writing a bit more on this theme, he finishes with the assertion that AI 

will never do: make you into a fully autonomous human being, with your own ideas, feelings and goals. I want that to be your ambition.

And if that’s what you want, too, then avoid the bots.

As far as "reasons not to cheat with AI" goes, his argument is pretty good. I do suspect that something like AI has crept into the way we (the royal we) have been thinking and writing about things for a long time, and that even Mr. Zimmerman relies on it sometimes. But he's right, and good for him.

But I'd bet a small, yet undisclosed amount of money that he actually does have an AI policy. Some students will use some AI programs to write their papers, and a subset of those will be so embarrassingly and obviously AI-produced that Mr. Zimmerman will report those situation to whoever is the academic honesty czar at his college and the student will be appropriately punished.

In that, I suspect AI will be a lot like student plagiarism. Some students, when they plagiarize, might lift a phrase here or there form Wikiepedia or the class-assigned textbook and fail to attribute it. (I personally don't think that practice should entail the intense opprobrium and swift and sure punishment it commands when discovered, but most university policies and plagiarism hunters I've seen seem to disagree.) There are some edge examples, where we know the student probably plagiarized, but we can't prove it. And then there are the obvious examples, where the student uses an entire paper or encyclopedia article or whatever that is very easy to find.

I bring up that distinction because when I was a TA and adjunct, I knew a lot of people who claimed that they didn't worry about plagiarism, because plagiarized papers were so bad that grading on the merits would be punishment enough for the student. But even those instructors would "bust" the student for obvious plagiarism.

Back to Mr. Zimmerman. He'll almost definitely punish the obvious examples. I suspect his college requires it. Maybe he has tenure and can therefore write columns explaining how he is defying the work rules his employer sets. And remember: professors cannot fail, they can only be failed. But there is almost definitely a "shall be punished" (not "may be punished") policy at his college, and if he openly defies that policy, even tenure might not protect him.

So yes, he can give the "don't cheat yourselves" lecture without sanction. But a student would be foolish to take that lecture at face value and go about AI'ing on the assumption that they're only cheating themselves.

Random thoughts on ending affirmative action in college admissions

Concerning the recent Supreme Court cases that are reputed to end most race-based affirmative action programs for higher education, I mostly agree with Freddie DeBoer at this link (substack, so probably pay walled). But I have a few other thoughts.

(I should disclose that I have only now started reading the court decision. I may think differently after reading it.)

Thought #1: I'm surprised (though again, I haven't read the decision) that the admissions practices of a private institution like Harvard can be subject to this federal lawsuit. I understand that Harvard, like most so-called "private" universities, are subsidized in many, many ways by state and federal governments. But I'm still a bit surprised they don't (apparently) have more leeway to make race-based decisions.

Thought #2: This decision seems to address only admissions and not financial aid. I don't know how it will affect any race-based financial supports. If this decision significantly curtails those, too, then, right or wrong, it is very unfortunate. 

Thought #3: I understand that the more wealthy top-tier schools make a point to financially support poorer students at close to 100% of costs. I suspect that such financial support is not all it's cracked up to be, but curtailing admissions at those places probably, in its own way, curtails some financial supports a la thought #2 above.

Thought #4: I don't shed a lot of tears for someone who doesn't get into Harvard or Yale and instead has to go to a "lesser" ivy league or go to one of the many other top-tier undergraduate schools.

Thought #5: Notwithstanding thought #4, I'm not convinced we're talking only of top-tier schools. If we're talking about a selective enrollment, local private school that offers robust financial supports and a easy-to-win-admission local public school that offers almost none--in that case, someone not admitted under an affirmative action policy may find they'll end up at an institution where they have to pay much more, maybe prohibitively much more, than they would have at the private one.

Thought #6: The retort that "white males have had affirmative action for 100 years" is glibly dismissive of many well-reasoned, sincere concerns about race-based affirmative action. It's especially unhelpful when offered as the only response to any and all objections: it's a way to shout down someone who disagrees with you.

Thought #7: Notwithstanding thought #6, that retort has more than a kernel of truth. Those, like me, who have benefited from the system need to acknowledge that truth.

Thought #8: In the world as I would like it to be, a college degree would not be nearly as much of a requirement for employment as it seems to be now. But the world isn't as I'd like it to be, so that default requirement suggests, to me, that we need some way to help others meet this requirement.

When a layperson reads Trump's indictment

I've read over the federal indictment against Mr. Trump, and I fear the case isn't quite as strong as some commentators claim it is. I can see how a non-biased juror (if such an animal exists) can find reasonable doubt not to convict Mr. Trump. I also believe that the indictment makes certain arguments for public consumption that in my view are overwrought and borderline irrelevant to the case at hand.

So....this blog post, like Gaul, will be divided into three parts. In part 1, I'll state that I'm not a lawyer and don't have much legal training. I'll also make the usual claim that I really really truly truly believe that Mr. Trump is a bad person and really really truly truly probably committed the crime and really really truly truly deserves to go to jail. In part 2, I'll raise what I see as the political and legal weaknesses of the indictment. In part 3, I'll repeat my disclosures from part 1, and that won't matter because if anyone actual reads this (long) blog post, they'll accuse me of being a Trump apologist anyway. So it goes.

Law and order isn't a "civil right"

The "law and order" candidate for mayor in my city says that law and order is a "civil right." I've already explained that I'm voting for that candidate in part because of his "law and order" position, but I disagree with him. Law and order isn't a civil right.

I see a civil right is a claim we as individuals have against the state. It's not a claim on the state. That doesn't mean we can't or shouldn't make claims on the state, but that making such a claim isn't claiming a civil right.

We could probably dispute why states exist and what purposes the do serve and ought to serve. But any such discussion will have to contemplate the state's responsibility to promote public order as a good for all people to enjoy. There are a lot of value-laden words in that last sentence: "public," "order," "a good," and "all people" all require extensive discussion. But waiving that discussion, I do think I can say a state should promote public order as a good for all people to enjoy.

A civil right is something an individual can invoke against the state as the state seeks to provide that "good."

I have probably, in the past, described certain things as a "right" or as a "civil right" that go against the definition I'm using in this blog post. I almost definitely described state-assured health care as a right. I say now that I was wrong to do so. That doesn't mean I oppose state-assured health care. I support it and wish the state assurance were more robust than it is. But I no longer see it as a "right."

Now, that candidate isn't really trying to summon a philosophical debate on the nature of "rights" and the obligations of government. He's trying to win votes and to do so in a way designed to appeal to two groups. The first is poorer people, especially persons of color, who see, and are often right to see, appeals to "law and order" as code for terrorizing and targeting black and brown persons. The candidate wants to argue that law and order is a good thing from which those very persons can and deserve to benefit. The second group includes relatively affluent, liberal-leaning people like me. His rhetoric assures us that we can support law and order without being racist or being against poor people.

I think he's right on the merits. poorer people stand to benefit greatly from a system that secures public safety. If someone isn't safe on the street or on mass transit, they can't do the other things that make life livable or worth living. 

But even so, we need to recognize that the law and order position, which I'm inclined to support this time around, comes with real costs. Those costs are curbs against civil liberties along some margin. I hope that margin is very slim, but it exists. Calling law and order a civil rights obfuscates the tradeoff, and we shouldn't do that.