Archives for category: Uncategorized

A few days ago, during the General Election, I tweeted this:

https://twitter.com/colm_ryan/status/703543486012911617

It got a lot of retweets because the politicians I mentioned represent the extreme cases of those who are less interested in national politics than they are about pandering to the needs of their own local community. They are caricatures, easily lampooned and despised. To them, it’s all about Kerry and Tipperary, and the rest of the country can take a running jump.

But, honestly, I’m somewhat conflicted about all this. While I despise the gombeen image, I think the local nature of politics in this country serves us very well.

It’s important, I think, that we know the people we are voting for. If someone is effective on a local level, then we get to see through the slogans. We get an insight into the people themselves. We derive something about their character. The voting process can winnow the best of these from the less able. In the main, good people are sent to Leinster House.

Another thing to celebrate is that our political process is rooted in the life and history of our country.  We are never more than 10 feet away from a local politician here. This helps to mitigate the sense of disenfranchisement so keenly felt across the Western world. In Knocknaheeney, a deprived suburb of Cork I drive through almost every day, there was a palpable sense of energy in the run-up to the election. The next Dáil will contain many people who will represent the voices of the deprived, and this is a good thing.

The system can result in narrow-minded councillors topping the polls, but what’s amazing is that, more often than not, it delivers quite good people too. Michael Lowry, Mattie McGrath and the Healy-Raes represent the extreme of our local system, but that doesn’t mean that the system in general is dreadfully wrong. It might actually be the best thing to come from 1916 – something that makes us who we are: democrats by instinct and nature.

Even though the next government is still uncertain, I am quite optimistic about the outcome. Ireland is not built for grand overthrows but evolutionary change is quite possible. Our local system of politics, with its abundant compromises and contact with the struggles of real people, makes such change possible.

 

With an election coming up here in Ireland, I’m still not entirely decided who I’ll vote for. My constituency is Cork East, so I have a good enough choice. My views tend to be slightly left of centre liberal with a strong secularist streak. I want a government that will invest in strong, effective public services and I’m ok with paying this out of USC if this can be achieved. I think we can have a top class education system here along with a health system we can be proud of. However, I believe that public services must be run efficiently. You can’t just throw money at the issue without challenging the underlying structures and systems (and recognising that huge private sector investment may be necessary to achieve this). I want separation of church and state. It’s high time we removed church involvement from public schooling. I’m also very much on the side of the people who want to see Article 8th and blasphemy laws removed from our constitution. Ireland should be open to all cultures and people, but our laws do not recognise this. On a local level, broadband had still not been sorted out in rural areas. This is incredible.

So here’s my thinking. 

Fianna Fail are a no. It’s the backwards conservative / back scratching party it always has been that still thinks the Catholic Church are great. Mícheál Martin might be one of the stronger leaders in a poor enough field, but his party base is still in denial. Oh, and did I mention they bankrupted the country? I’ll pass, thanks.

Sinn Fein are a definite no. Notwithstanding the local controversy with Sandra McLennan, they are ambiguous when it comes to justice and their economic policies are thoroughly Marxist. They suffer from a cult of personality regarding Gerry Adams and they are unapologetically populist. They’ll promise anything for a vote. It’s hard to separate them from the party they were during the troubles – a party of spin and lies, not to mention the occasional murder. They would be a disaster for the country.

Independents are a no. While independents are often earnest and hard working at a local level, they are not good for a stable government and they have little interest in wider issues of running a country. They are populist almost by definition. 

Labour: it’s complicated. Many of the policies align with my views. They are liberal and relatively responsible when it comes to government. They have taken difficult, unpopular stances which, to my mind, is not a bad thing. I think however that they suffer from a lack of leadership. They possibly should have taken stronger stances in government which is hurting them now. Sean Sherlock has not made much of an impact in this part of the county, so it’s been difficult to assess his record. I’ll probably vote for them, but exactly which preference, I’ve yet to decide.

Fine Gael: it’s complicated. They can claim a lot of credit for making deeply unpopular decisions which, nevertheless, pulled this country out of the enormous hole dug by the previous administration. They have also enacted policies that went against their natural base. They are ambiguous about Article 8, but I don’t think they’ll have much choice but to put it to a referendum in the next government. The local TD, David Stanton, is a hard worker and personable man. On balance, I may vote for them, but I’m unsure of preference.

Social Democrats. They are a new party formed from a disenfranchisement with current government direction. They are liberal and interested in maintaining a strong investment in public services. Their leader, Stephen Donnelly, is quite impressive and the local candidate Ken Curtin comes across as very sincere, very hard working, with a lot of integrity. I like the direction and I wish them well as an interesting new party in Irish politics. Worth a punt.

Renua: Are you kidding me? A backwards, pro-clerical, anti-choice, lock ’em up and throw away the key party. They seem to thrive on fear and loathing. Yuck.

Inevitably, the next government is likely to be a hotch potch of different groupings. The most stable mix would be FG/FF, but there’s a strong possibility we might see an FF/SF lead government too, which would be a great pity, but at least it would give us a chance to see how Sinn Fein perform when they have to make tough choices. Another, even worse outcome is an SF lead knesset of small parties and independents. Wouldn’t last to Christmas, but it could be fascinating if it were not for the fact that we would have to pay the price for it, however temporary. Personally I feel an FG/Lab/SD government would be the best in the circumstances, but I don’t see it happening.

Twitter was launched ten years ago.

Dolly the Sheep was cloned twenty years ago.

Rock legend Phil Lynott died 30 years ago.

U2 was formed 40 years ago.

England’s last World Cup win was 50 years ago.

The first person to say “fuck” on TV was Irish. That was 60 years ago.

Irish Nazi broadcaster Lord Haw Haw was executed 70 years ago.

Aer Lingus was founded 80 years ago.

An Irishwoman shot and injured Benito Mussolini 90 years ago.

Ernest Shackleton and Tom Crean rowed to South Georgia 100 years ago. 

Sounds familiar? 200 years ago we had a year without a summer.

William Shakespeare died 400 years ago.

The German Beer Purity Laws came into effect 500 years ago.

The Irish were busy fighting Scottish invaders 700 years ago.

King Cnut (don’t say this quickly while drinking German beers) became king of England 1000 years ago.

Italy beat Germany at an away match 2000 years ago. 

More 2016 anniversaries. 

 

 

The latest verbal outrage by Donald Trump has everyone talking again. Every day his rhetoric gets worse. Every day, he stokes the fires of racist and sectarian hatred, all in a frantic bid to become the world’s most powerful man. By appealing to the most regressive and darkest mindsets in American life, it is inevitable that his statements will result in innocent people being injured and killed.

I do not believe he has any chance of becoming the next President of America, even if there were to be a major event between now and the election. He has alienated too many people. Liberal, minority and moderate voters can’t stand him. I reckon that a sizeable number of Republicans would, if push came to shove, vote Democrat even if they would only do it with their noses pinched. Trump is promoting values that have nothing to do with America and nothing to do with how it achieved greatness. Throughout its history, people came to America because it was a free and fair country, not a fascist dictatorship. Americans fought world wars and spilled blood against fascism. American history and the history of America’s place in the world, is the strongest guarantor that Trump’s bid will go nowhere.

Even if Trump, by improbable good fortune, did become the next US President, it’s hard to see how he could have any success at all. In his zeal to enact his policies, he would start battles that would render effective government impossible. Since his greatest enemy, at times, appears to be the US Constitution and the Bill of Rights – he can expect fulsome and ferocious opposition at every turn; not just from politicians but from the many thousands of people – police, soldiers, doctors, officials and ordinary citizens – through whom he would expect his edicts to be enacted. They would find ways, overt and covert, to thwart his policies. Unless he was determined to turn the country into an autocratic police state (even more improbable), his presidency would be an utter shambles. I doubt if he would even make the full four year term.

If Trump has created a legacy, it is to revive a tradition of bigotry and hatred, mainly among the entitled cadre of white, elderly elitists who have seen their country become more diverse, more tolerant, more secular and more globally integrated, despite all their efforts to the contrary. My worry is, that as their numbers and influence wane ever further, we can expect greater extremism and violence from these quarters. They will not go quietly.

Despite this, I am optimistic about America. I think the chances are good that the moderates will win out. The recent success of progressive laws, such as same-sex marriage, is an indication that the forces of deep conservatism are on the retreat. I think a tipping point is near, if it has not already passed. What we are witnessing with Trump is the rattle of a mortally wounded snake – ugly, venomous and vicious. but doomed nonetheless.

I recently arrived at my 48th year on this planet. With a good bit of luck, I can make it to 2050. Thirty five years. It’s as far away from me now as 2015 was when I was 12 years old.

In 1980, people wore jeans, t-shirts and runners. They had colour TVs, digital watches and Tupperware. Star Wars was already a thing. The big difference, of course, was computerisation and mobile technology, but even so, there was a familiarity about those times. In the same way, 2050 may not be too foreign to modern sensibilities when it eventually arrives. We are well on our way to this future date.

By now, it should be obligatory for me to tell you that the years fly by too quickly, and that I remember the 1980s like they happened yesterday. But honestly, it was a long time ago. I was a child back then. I can’t lay claim to that title anymore, however hard I have tried to delay the onset of adulthood.

I think this feeling of ‘tempus fugit’ is something of a delusion. Life doesn’t fly by as fast as we think it does. Days might whizz by, but there are a few hundred of them in each year. It’s a lot of time. 10 years is a whole heap of time and 30 years practically an eternity. It’s just that our brains make the past seem so much closer than it really is.

I’m pretty sure that this sense of time passing by quickly is a function of a memory system that best remembers the things we remember the most. Music, particularly the most popular tunes, seem recent only because we hear them often. So too with places visited regularly, like my mother’s home, or local schools and shopping centres. We recall distant events there clearly only because we are minded to remember them quite often. The gap in time is shortened only because we frequently remember the memory, not the event itself.

Maybe it’s where I am now in my life. With my children now passing into teenagehood, I seem to remember their earlier years as a transient blur. But in reality, I don’t think it was quite so speedy. There was plenty enough time there for my father to fall sick and pass away; for my marriage to crash-land and for a while, chaos to take the place of security. It’s just that I have forgotten so much. Perhaps that’s the real tragedy of ageing: so many experiences have been scattered to the four winds. What remains now are bare threads.

Life is long. It’s long enough for us to make big mistakes and to recover from them. It’s long enough to breach the surface after diving the depths of despair. It’s long enough to see green shoots where once there was bare earth. Even in middle-age, there is still time to find peace; to make life more livable for those around us; perhaps to yet follow our dreams. 

Despite the awfulness of forgetting, maybe  there is more time there than we normally appreciate. And in that, I think, there is hope.

Some weeks ago, a work colleague from the US asked me if it was a good idea to hire a car when she would be in Cork.

I had to think about it for a minute, and then I gave my answer:

Hell No.

Cork is a driving disaster zone, not because our drivers are somewhat absent minded, nor because of inclement weather, nor because we drive on the other side of the road to US drivers, nor because we have these teeny narrow streets you have to navigate through. No. It’s a disaster zone because, come rush hour or moderate traffic, you need to have truly psychic powers to navigate yourself around the city.

To drive successfully in Cork traffic you need something akin to the Knowledge, cherished by London cabbies. This is an intimate understanding of the unwritten rules on which lane to move into and when to do it, before executing a manoeuvre. Crucially, the correct positioning might be required in a totally different part of the city.

McCurtain Street for instance. To be in the correct lane when you reach the Leisureplex Coliseum, you need to be deciding lanes way back on Patrick’s Bridge.

Or try Brian Boru Bridge, turning left, straight on or right by the Bus Station. To get it right, you need to have pre-chosen your lane in McCurtain Street. Get it wrong and you’re in a whole lot of trouble.

Following the same road down Clontarf Street to the City Hall, you need to have picked the correct lane by the Bus Station, or woe betide you.

Another beauty is the South Link road heading into town. If you are intending to go to Dublin or Rosslare via the Lower Glanmire Road, you need to have already chosen the correct lane at the Elysian Towers, half a mile away.

Or try the Christy Ring bridge from the Mallow Road – actually, don’t bother. Christy Ring Bridge itself is a traffic nightmare zone at the best of times, no matter what direction you approach it from. I’m sure its traffic light system was part of a psychological torture plot in a former life.

These are just a few examples of a traffic system not just designed by committee, but probably designed by camels. My advice to anyone driving through the city? Lodge a flight plan in advance. And bring emergency supplies. Getting through Cork in rush hour may take some time.

Picture the scene. It’s 2813 AD and a school class is reviewing the history from the 21st Century. The teacher begins the class with this statement. “The 21st Century is an interesting period in time, mainly because we know so little about it. In many cases, all we can do is speculate”.

What? The 21st Century? The Information Age? The age where we can receive the answers we need at the touch of a button? Where we share almost everything about ourselves on Facebook? Where one hour of footage is uploaded to YouTube every second? Where vast records are stored on each one of us by shadowy intelligence agencies and Internet businesses across the planet? How could this be?

Nevertheless, in 800 years time, little of this will remain. We don’t need to conjure up a great catastrophe for this to happen. The pace of technological change alone could render the records of our lives impenetrable and impossible to discover.

The Dark Ages – a period stretching roughly from 500 AD to 800 AD, is so called because records of this time, in Western Europe at least, are few and far between. The Western Roman Empire was at an end. Migrating tribes roamed the continent and fought each other bitterly in search of a new homeland. Bubonic plague decimated the population. Scholarship disappeared, with the result that almost all Europeans alive could neither read nor write. There are very few accounts of life in Europe during this time.

Literacy and numeracy were reintroduced to Europe mainly via the Islamic World and ever so slowly, books were written and record keeping began again in earnest. The Renaissance saw a re-kindling of learning and with the advent of the printing press, a bright light was shone into the people and the events of the times. Over the intervening centuries, with ever greater literacy and technology, this light has dramatically increased. Now, at the height of this illuminated age, all this knowledge may disappear into thin air rather rapidly.

Paper is by no means a perfect way to keep records, but it has the relative advantages of clarity and durability. In their basic form, books in the 13th century were not much different from books in the 19th Century. With a bit of luck, they might have avoided being set on fire or being destroyed by an iconoclast, allowing trained historians to read them and interpret them with relation to other books from the time.

But all this could now stop because we are now moving away from paper as a primary means of storing information. Instead, our records have moved to electronic media. Computers, laser disks, hard drives and distributed private server farms (aka the Cloud), now hold much of the information produced each day. More and more data is encrypted, meaning that even if you had the technology to read the data, you might not have the keys required to decipher the information. Most private companies will eventually fail, and with them their vast storage capabilities may go dark. Furthermore, the information is electronic and magnetic in nature, meaning that it may not have the permanence of ink on paper. A few magnetic storms or simply the effects of loss of charge over time may put paid to most of our electronic records in a relatively short period. 

Historians of future centuries will have a big problem on their hands, should paper disappear entirely over the coming decades. Ironically, they may need to look towards less advanced societies or communities to find primarily records from the past. Luddite paper loving hold-outs or impoverished societies on the far side of the digital divide might provide the only keys to the goings on in our century.

Of course archaeologists will have a field day, given the amount of non recyclable trash available to them. We’re a filthy lot, so they won’t have too many problems figuring out how we lived, or what we wore, drove or ate. It’s just that there may not be any voices from that time, adding colour to this picture. In the total absence of available records, we literally become prehistoric, like ancient Celtic or Germanic tribes. 

Paper is not quite dead yet, so I expect we are a long way from total darkness, but one thing is virtually certain: much of what we are recording today – the vast billions and trillions of megabytes recorded each day – will eventually go missing. We are an information rich, yet record poor, society. If we ignore this issue, it will reverberate down the generations. 

There is a difference between Science and Religion.

Science needs evidence. Science embraces evidence. If the evidence tells you something that conflicts with your beliefs, then in science, the evidence wins. It must win, because that’s how progress happens in science. Scientists follow the evidence, irrespective of how uncomfortable that might mean towards their beliefs.

Religion needs belief. Religion embraces belief. If the evidence tells you something that conflicts your beliefs, then in religion, the belief wins. It must win, because that’s the way religion preserves itself, often passing down the generations. Religious adherents follow the belief, irrespective of whether evidence exists to support those beliefs or even if if it refutes those beliefs completely.

If you are a scientist, and the evidence starts to conflict with your beliefs, but you hold fast to those beliefs despite strong evidence to the contrary, you are no longer practicing science. You are practicing religion.

If you are a religious adherent, and the evidence starts to conflict with your beliefs, so you change your beliefs to come in line with the evidence, you are no longer practicing religion. You are practicing science.

There is a difference between Science and Religion and this difference is unreconcilable. A wide, yawning, unbridgeable gap. You either accept that evidence has primacy, or that belief does. You can’t have both. Efforts to reconcile the two are unlikely to be very productive.

There is a difference between Science and Religion, but perhaps the issue is somewhat moot. The real question is what difference this makes to most of us. The problem is our brains, you see. Our brains have an interesting relationship with ideas, both scientific and religious. In our brains these things tend to get mashed together, confused with each other. Our brains can accommodate conflicting ideas. While science and religion are different, when it comes to scientific people and religious people, the distinction is far more blurry.

Most people don’t think about religion or science all the time. Most people spend their time thinking about other things. Whether they left the heating on, the pain in their foot, the hallway that needs a paint job, the local team losing last Saturday. Most people have friends to talk to, families to care for, work to do. Muslim, atheist, Christian, secular, Buddhist: when it comes to life and everyday concerns, we become less different. We become more human. The gulf can be traversed. It’s no longer black and white. It’s complicated.

There is a difference between Science and Religion, but our humanity keeps getting in the way. 

Here’s what most people think critical thinking is. You take on a position, then you develop arguments as to why this viewpoint is the correct one. It’s the stuff of debate, polemics, law and politics. We admire people who can present strong arguments, then defend their positions under withering pressure. Sometimes we elect such supremos to powerful positions. It’s a handy skill, not to be dismissed, often to be admired. But I’ll tell you one thing it isn’t: it’s not critical thinking.

Real critical thinking takes a bit more work.

To be truly critical about a viewpoint, first you need to figure out if it’s wrong. That’s not an easy thing to do, because it goes against our innate mental biases. Our brains are naturally predisposed to taking on positions then finding support for such positions. What critical thinking asks of us is to challenge this mental process head on; finding evidence that suggests it’s not true, or not valid under certain circumstances. From this a more complicated picture can be drawn.

A critical thinker needs to spend time to understand if their position is based on valid or fallacious logic. If you are basing your position on the mere fact that everyone else accepts it, that’s not a great starting point. Neither is it much help if it originates from an emotional feeling or a desire for something to be true rather than bothering to establish if it is true in the first place. There are a ton of pitfalls – logical fallacies – that can trap the unwary thinker.

Or maybe the sources themselves are invalid. A peer-reviewed scientific paper may hold more water than the flatulent utterances of a Daily Mail headline, but even this might require consideration if it’s rowing against other research on the same topic. Many newspapers and websites promote strong political, cultural or religious viewpoints. There may be vested interests involved, whose job it is to muddy the debate. It can be a minefield trying to winnow the grammes of wheat from the tonnes of chaff.

If you do put in the ground work to validate and perhaps adjust the stance you have taken, it’s then when argumentation and debate has a role to play. But even then, you have to be willing to accept that, even at this late stage, you might be wrong. There may be evidence out there that you failed to consider. You need to be open to this possibility.

Going through this process of formulating hypotheses and testing is one of the most valuable skills an education can give us. It’s the basis behind most forms of professional and scientific inquiry and it’s fast becoming a useful tool of business and management. So why aren’t our kids learning more about it in school? Why aren’t they getting any chances to practice it?

So many subjects are presented as just-so facts. The desire to complete the curriculum as expeditiously as possible trumps everything else. Where discussion is permitted, there is little effort to evaluate positions on their merits or to examine our biases and the many flaws of argumentation. Debates are little more than exercises in one-upmanship – opportunities to talk across each other while playing to the audience. Being wrong is something to be avoided at all costs. Our education system is miles from where it needs to be.

We have to find ways to break this cycle. We need to give curiosity, exploration and inwardly directed criticism greater prominence in our educational system. We need to elevate hypothesis formulation, testing and investigatory work, allowing kids to make mistakes as they try to figure out what is right and what is wrong. Instead of telling them the answers, give them the tools to find the answers for themselves.

A real critical thinker has to shroud themselves in doubt, and it’s from doubt that real critical thinkers are born. Our education system has become too enamoured with certainty to give this much consideration. We need to find ways to change this.

Confirmation bias has to be one of the most pervasive – and shittiest – aspects of human nature. By definition, it’s our natural tendency to only search for information that conforms to our preconceptions. In other words, we are naturally disposed to seeing only what we want to see.

And it’s all around us. You don’t like someone? You’ll only see their bad points. You had a bad meal in a restaurant? The service will be bad too, and they left a stain on the tablecloth. The wrong party got into power? Look at the mess they created.

If you have a vested interest in anything it’s likely that the gales of confirmation bias will roar around you. If you’re selling or promoting something it’s likely you’ll jump with delight on information that could promote your business. You’ll jump with annoyance, though, on any statement to the contrary. The same goes for fossil fuels, quack autism cures, homeopathy, fortune telling, you name it.

I want to take the German refugee crisis as an example, because I’m currently stuck in a debate about it. Because of the devastation of Syria and Iraq, tens of thousands of refugees are arriving in Germany each week. A million people could come there in the coming months. This is undoubtedly going to put stress on everything: schools, housing, hospitals, social services and policing. It wouldn’t matter where the people came from or what their religion was: a million people arriving from anywhere would pose big problems to residents.

Many locals are less than happy. Listening to them I get the impression that the refugees are the worst people imaginable. A lot of the arguments hinge around stories of criminality or personal affronts. Sheep getting stolen, youths going to the toilet on doorsteps, local women being insulted as whores, that kind of thing. Terrible stuff indeed.

But here are a couple of things that make me pause.

First, are all the stories true? When hearing stories that we badly want to hear, our critical faculties often disappear. The statement itself is proof enough. Because it conforms with what we already believe, why be sceptical about it?

Second, what about the disconfirming stories? The stories of immigrants or refugees doing nothing of the sort? Of minding their own business? Of doing something nice for other people? You won’t hear many of these because nobody wants to talk about them. Nobody likes a good story ruined.

Third, in what way does a story like this extrapolate out to the wider community? You will find criminality everywhere and desperation may provoke additional anti-social behaviour amongst some people. Even still, lots of stories like this are unlikely to be indicative of a mass movement of people, hell-bent on exploiting their hosts.

Fourth, because these people are escaping a bad situation, doesn’t necessarily mean that the badness is coming with them. If they loved the awfulness of ISIS and government terrorism so much, then why are they leaving in such numbers?

Now, it’s quite possible that it’s me who is biased, that it’s me who is giving the refugees far too much credit and that I am not considering the genuine problems of local residents. Maybe I’ve become too leftie for my own good and it’s addled my brain. It could be. After all, I’m just as susceptible to confirmation bias as anyone else. However my experience is that most people are basically decent. They are more interested in washing machines and putting food on the table than they are about forcing others to conform to their way of thinking. Kids tend to behave like kids everywhere and while it’s more complicated with adults, it’s the complications that make it such a muddy picture. There are good people and bad people and every shade in between. If we ignore all this variety in order to adopt a convenient fantasy that they are all the same, we take steps down some very, very dark pathways. Perhaps that’s just wishy, washy, liberal me talking.