Vacca, Bos, and Variola

The antivaxers and antimaskers are out in force adding to the dangers we all face. I remember reading about the opposition to masking during the 1918 influenza pandemic. There was no flu vaccine at the time so the only tools that public health had to work with were masks, social distancing, and the ancient technique of quarantine (quarantine from Latin quaranta, “forty” the days a ship must wait offshore during medieval pandemics). A recent article in the WSJ (https://www.wsj.com/articles/the-long-history-of-vaccine-mandates-in-america-11631890699?page=1) has provided some clarity on this rhubarb (baseball-ese for a kerfuffle).

The type of immunization that General Washington required of his troops would have set ablaze the hair of the anti-vax screamers. This technique was variolation (from variola, Latin term for smallpox). Variolation was an ancient Asian technique of placing a piece of flesh from an infected person onto the abraded skin of an uninfected person. Obviously this was a dangerous procedure because it transmitted God-knows-what disease along with a possible case of full-blown smallpox. Variolation came into use in the West in the early part of the 18th century. Back in elementary school we all learned about the remarkable discovery by Edward Jenner who observed that milkmaids often became immune to smallpox by working with cows infected with cowpox. Jenner coined the term vaccination (from Latin vacca a cow) and used it in his 1788 paper on the new technique. This was five years after the Washington’s victory. Jenner’s initial technique was pretty gross. He applied the pus from a cow oozing cowpox to a small boy. I wonder if the boy signed an informed consent release but anyway he was successfully immunized. Using cowpox provided a much safer way of immunization.

The British cow that provided the cowpox was named Blossom. A common name for a favorite American cow is Bessie. A certainly false but cute folk etymology is that a bovine is often named Bessie because Ivy League professors who grazed their cow on campus would call the girls home in the cry “Here Bossie! Come Bossie!” using ancient Latin bos another term for a Roman cow. Or they could have been using Greek bos or bous as the word was the same or similar in classical Greek. An early form of written Greek was done in boustrophedon, or “as the ox turns”. In other words, this script was written and read one line going left and the next going right just like plowing field. The “turning” in boustrophedon is the strophe syllable. In Greek drama, the chorus would take dance steps reflecting the stage action. If events took a terrible turn the chorus would strophe or turn dramatically the other way. That step was called a catastrophe. Like the Covid Pandemic or the 2016 presidential election.

Well Worn Jeans

In the Netflix series “Unorthodox,” a young Hasidic woman flees her husband and family and the oppressive strictures of ultra-orthodox life in New York and seeks a new life in Berlin.  She struggles with a modern society and her own fears and limitations, but slowly, step by step, gains the confidence to survive.  At a pivotal moment in her battle for personal freedom, she puts on a pair of blue jeans under her orthodox prescribed skirt. In the following sequences, she wears the jeans and contemporary clothes as she slips off the burdens of ancient customs and rules.  It seems to me that restrictive blue jeans signify freedom from restriction. 

How we deal with existential fears and mysteries is the subject of Matthew Hutson’s The Seven Laws of Magical Thinking. Hutson doesn’t condemn magical thinking or consider it unusual and thinks it may well be an essential part of a healthy emotional life. We hold tight to things that help us make sense of life.  An old ring that a grandmother had, a numbered shirt worn in a winning game, my dad’s dog-tags.  Significant life changes are usually accompanied by things that don’t change.  There are wedding rings, coming of age body alterations of all types, maybe a tattoo of Amanda (maybe have that one replaced), the holy water of baptism, and, in the end, a granite tombstone. Ancient handprints of Hindu women made just before sati.  Who doesn’t save a special toy belonging to a now grown child or a wedding gown or a Louisville Slugger from a home run?  And I missed my old VW bug named ‘Liz’. 

My old school friend George told me once about a pair of special blue jeans, the almost lucky jeans.  George was, and still is, an artist who made imaginative and beautiful objects of clay and took compelling photography.  As a starving art student at Florida Atlantic University, he slept in the pottery building or the fieldhouse where there were nice showers.  After graduation, he still struggled to survive until his art was recognized.  I lost track of him for a while after college but connected a little later.  Then he said he was a painter.  He painted the lines on the highway for the Ohio road department and was paid well during warm months.  In the winter and spring, he received enough unemployment money to make ends meet while living in a barn of an Amish farm in Ohio.  He traded a little help around the farm for free accommodations in the hayloft while doing what art work he could.   

And as he prepared to leave for his recall to work, the farmer’s daughter comes up to say goodbye.  I asked George if this was the start of a farmer’s daughter joke but he swore to its truth. The young woman of course was wearing her traditional long skirt and Amish clothing. She asked for one small favor.  George, take off your jeans.  George is thinking:  my lucky day! I guess I’ve hit the jackpot.  The farmer’s daughter slipped off her skirt and took the blue jeans and zipped them up snug.  Then she slowly takes them back off and gives them back. She says, George, I just wanted to know for once what it feels like to wear blue jeans. 

The jeans must be long gone now and George is a successful artist and does have the good luck and steady income of an art museum director.  I don’t know what he wears to work. 

Where the Crawdads Sing, by Delia Owens

I did enjoy this best-selling novel about Kya, a girl who grows to a woman almost entirely alone in the marshes of North Carolina. The book, by the naturalist Delia Owens, is a bildungsroman of a girl Mowgli, not raised by wolves but by herself and her sea birds, insects, and and all the teeming wildlife of the marsh.
It was a little off-putting to accept the idea of a girl of six abandoned almost completely by her family except for an abusive alcoholic father who was rarely home and eventually completely gone. So it took a bit of the willing suspension of disbelief to enter the wondrous and dangerous world of a marvelous child with only one day of school who grows in self-reliance to womanhood by her own strengths and curiosity.
There is also a murder mystery here too, not in the sense of a whodunit, but in the more classic sense of the inevitability of tragic consequences. What is so appealing in this book is how the author weaves together the characteristics of the natural world into shaping Kya’s sense of identity. What she learns in her solitary life about the natural world and natural selection is not only how she lives and prospers but how she survives and prevails. Where the Crawdads Sing, Delia Owens, 2018, Putnam’s.

Capital and Taxes

The New York Times has reported today on a ProPublica study that shows that the wealthiest US individuals regularly pay little or no income tax. The NYT mentions that this has revived an interest in a wealth tax.
A few years ago, there was much excitement over the publication of Thomas Picketty’s Capital in the Twenty-First Century. Now there is a Netflix documentary which I haven’t seen yet but I did read the Picketty’s book. In record time I think, a full two and half-month for all its nearly 700 pages and I understood some of it. As a matter of fact, Picketty was careful to explain each of his formulas in plain English (translated from the French). Here is the most important one: r > g that is, the r or rate of return on capital will always be greater than g, the rate of growth of the economy which is the source of income for us 99 percenters. Some economists have criticized the book on various points (one accusing him of “mathiness” like “truthiness” using a lot of math to overwhelm the reader into thinking he must be right, it’s math after all). I take it from Nobel prizewinner Paul Krugman, that the book is one of the most important texts of our age. And of course the right-wing suggests the book is just more liberal socialism. Picketty’s book was given to me by my wonderful friend Tom, a dyspeptic but benign old Marxist professor. I think Tom was a little disappointed that Picketty’s Capital wasn’t a modern version of Das Kapital.
Of all the controversy about the book, no one has criticized his major point. Capital relies on labor to increase its value and will always increase faster than labor’s earning power causing increasing income inequality. Picketty spends a lot of time showing the negative effects of inequality including not only poverty and ill health but social upheaval and even violence. Picketty also documents generational wealth, vast fortunes passed along down the ages growing to enormous proportions. Mostly untaxed.
The solution is a wealth tax. In the US we do have one form of wealth tax, the tax on real estate, usually the only form of wealth for most Americans. Some European countries have a wealth tax on assets like holdings in a stock market.
When a significant wealth tax was implemented in France a few years ago, many of the enormously rich elites simply fled. That’s why Picketty proposes that there be an international and therefore inescapable wealth tax that is the same rate universally. Fat chance.
At any rate at least the idea is being discussed. Elizabeth Warren had proposed a wealth tax as one of her many plans, but the Biden folks have dismissed it.
I do wish people would remember when they shell out for the their real estate tax payment, that a retiring Jeff Bezos will be looking down on us all from above the skies in his space ship and just rolling in his enormous billions and paying no tax at all. Capital in the Twenty-First Century, Thomas Picketty, Harvard University Press. 2014.

Siddhartha’s Playlist

Well, if my experience at Buddhist summer camp is any indication, then Buddha had no playlist and probably had no favorite tune, except for maybe a ringing bowl sounding out time for meditation. Time for meditation: Again. I made a poor yogi I’m sure, but at least I followed the rule of complete silence. Almost.

Some people when they reach that longed-for retirement day, go off on their dream vacation to Paris or the Caribbean or maybe the all-you-can-eat buffet in Harlan, Kentucky. I went to the Insight Meditation Center in Massachusetts for a hot summer week. On entry, the staff interview you and assign a room that comes with nothing more than two very small beds and a roommate. It was high summer so I asked about air-conditioning. No dice. The 20 year old asked about any food allergies or medical condition. Also, “Adriel, do you have any mental conditions?” The spiel was that some people seek meditation as a balm for a troubled mind and I was warned that a week at INS wouldn’t do the trick. I simply said I might have been a little crazy to sign up, that’s all. No response. This guy was all about serious meditation. What ever happened to Buddhist humor?

So I did my best to follow the rules. At first I thought that the no coffee rule was the tough one, along with the monster mosquitoes–no repellent permitted and you get expelled for killing a flea or a fly. I got used to the no talking and more or less was compliant, save for sneaking off to the lakeside on the lunch break to call Paula on the verboten cell phone. But it was the music. No music permitted. No sound. It was such an aural void.

It made me realize how much music there is with radio and digital. Music excites, soothes, saddens, and generally moves us in a better direction. Helps us get a better attitude, although music has got its work cut out for it with me. With cell phones and speakers in cars and homes and stores and gas pumps and elevators it is everywhere. But not at the meditation retreat. Music transports the listener to a better place, lifts you up closer to a higher plane. But at Buddhist camp you must “be here now!” I have read that people love most the music they heard in the year before reaching 30 years of age and not so much after that. I don’t think so. I think a melody becomes a beloved from an experience. Maybe an emotional moment, or celebration. Maybe with friends singing. Or a favorite song and dance show or movie. Or sung in choir or at a time of joy or triumph or even sorrow.

Well when I was no longer “being here now”, leaving a half day short of the week, I admit I felt a renewal, a purging of emotions, a quiet soul afloat on calm waters. I drove off seeking the nearest McD’s for a diet cola and large fries. I clicked on the closest public radio station. I was hungry for trash food but more hungry for some good music. The sound of a celestial Mozart horn concerto filled up my whole self. It was the larghetto romance from the Horn Concerto No. 3 in E flat, K.447. From those little auto speakers it seemed astounding and a sound of extraordinary beauty. Like Pythagoras, I felt it was music that moves the stars and sounds the rhythm of the universe.

I now have every recorded performance I could find on Spotify in my playlist. And every time I hear those slow and sweet and simply glorious French horns the music sweeps me off to nirvana.

Parity for Clams (Pt. 3 of saving clams)

I read good article in Aeon that has another discussion of the matter of approaching our treatment of animals with respect to the Kantian vs the Consequentialism approach. (refer to my previous entries on the dignity of mollusks)  Peter Godfrey-Smith, in “Philosophers and Other Animals” (https://aeon.co/essays/why-korsgaards-kantian-argument-about-animals-doesnt-work) comments and critiques the approach of Christine Korsgaard in her book Fellow Creatures.  (I have not read that one, but he writes that Korsgaard extends the Kantian approach from a universal principle among persons (what others would do in similar circumstances) to a more nuanced approach.  Korsgaard thinks there is no inherent values, but values derive from valuers. We must respect what others value and that leads us to form moral judgments that are respectful of others—and the “others” include animals.  Obviously, sentient creatures value life and avoiding not just pain but avoiding death.

Peter Godfrey-Smith doubts that all of us will respect the values of others.  He thinks the approach of expecting each person to suss out the valuing process is questionable. 

I am not really sure about this.  First of all, I don’t see how the different the Korsgaard approach is from Peter Singer’s approach of respecting the preferences of others including the preferences of animals.  But I think that this article helps to clarify the idea of “parity and consistency, as well as empathy, reverence and more” that Godfrey-Smith writes about in his approach to the veggie question.  If we make a moral judgment about one thing, it should apply to a similar situation, that would be parity.  And the simple notion of applying empathy to animals and respecting their values, or preferences, should be an important component of our moral decision making.  As Adriel says, “I just want to live in peace with my fellow creatures on this earth.”

The Rights of Clams (Pt. 2)

Peter Singer takes up the case contra clams in Chapter 4 of Animal Liberation: A New Ethic For Our Treatment of Animals (1975). He discusses where to draw the line between those we should not kill and eat and those living things which are far too elemental and primitive to earn the right to live. He writes “Oysters, clams, mussels, scallops, and the like are mollusks, and mollusks are in general very primitive organisms.” An exception is made for the octopus which is a much classier and a super cool mollusk. Since Singer is okay with killing insects, which are primitive invertebrates, he throws lobsters in the pot with the mosquitoes and locusts. Well, if you have ever thrown a living lobster in the boiling pot or dared to watch the horrific procedure, you know that lobsters feel pain. And they have a pronounced desire to continue to live which is why the murderous cook will bind their claws lest he lose a finger. Singer admits it is difficult to draw the line. Unless you are Leviticus I suppose.

So why not avoid the impossible task of making these fine distinctions and simply value life over killing wherever possible. It is unnecessary to kill the clam, unless you are marooned and hungry on a Pacific island, and just eat your broccoli, beans, and barley? Humanity is not a superior life force. [Editor’s Note: here Adriel is going back to Part 1 q.v.]. Peter Singer seems to acknowledge that point in Chapter 1: “All Animals Are Equal.” He writes (in a sort of Kantian fashion) “If possessing a higher degree of intelligence does not entitle one human to eat another for his own ends, how can it entitle humans to exploit nonhumans for the same purpose.” (this is page 7 of the Avon paperback edition.)

So let’s don’t avert our eyes from the boiling lobster or butchered cow. If it seems awful then it is. C. S. Peirce, the developer of the philosophy of Pragmatism, viewed the instinctual response as a valuable tool in resolving ethical dilemmas. (entry on Pragmatism, Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy). Some moral decisions simply have no clear rule or guidebook. The fact that we must rely on natural feelings and are not reliably reasoning beings would seem to mean that you listen to your heart, and don’t destroy creatures whether they have a heart or not.

The Rights of Clams (Pt. 1)

Adriel won’t eat clams or fish. But the author of Animal Liberation, the utilitarian Peter Singer, eats clams but not fish. Singer (I took his remarkable class on Coursera) emphasizes the suffering of fish. The fish is not just sentient but is aware of its own existence, struggles mightily to continue to live, and most of all, obviously feels pain and can suffer physical pain and suffer from loss of life itself. It is not ethical to cause unnecessary suffering and it is unnecessary to eat fish. Despite being the foremost living utilitarian philosopher, Singer uses two Kantian ideas in his seminal book. In his ethics he espouses the “rights” of animals and also claims that animals are to be treated as ends in themselves, not as a means to our ends. Both the ideas are most associated with Immanuel Kant but Kant, who was a carnivore, viewed rational humans as having rights but not animals that could be used as serving the needs of humans. We have a duty to avoid causing pain to animals but they do not have rights equal to reasoning beings according to Kant.

On the other hand, Peter Singer sees the qualities of animals for their somewhat limited self-understanding and their avoidance of suffering as an equivalence to the same qualities in humans. Therefore animals have the same rights as us folks. But not for the poor, dumb clams. The life of a clam is not equivalent to that of me, or Sally, or even Rover. Singer says simply “I don’t think that bivalves — mussels and clams — I don’t think they can suffer, so I eat them” (Vox interview https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/2020/10/27/21529060/animal-rights-philosopher-peter-singer-why-vegan-book).

So Peter Singer eats clams, and I supposed Immanuel Kant did too if they were nicely fried. But I won’t. For two reasons. First, with regard to the Kantian view, I don’t see humans as “higher” animals because of the (seldom used) ability to reason. The idea that we are something special, something spectacular, and rule the universe by reason is not acceptable to me or even to science. Current scientific research show more the amazing abilities of animals and the limits of human reason. The kind of cruelty and evil perpetrated by humans has no peer in the non-human animal kingdom. We are animals, the equals of other animals. Our rights are equivalent, not superior. Second, with regard to Singer’s emphasis on preventing suffering, I think the avoidance of causing pain is fundamental but not decisive. Rather, life itself should be the ultimate value, not just life free of suffering and not just human life. Of course, even bacteria or plants have a kind of life but so primitive and limited as to not be regarded on the level of sentient creatures. Even if a clam or an insect might not be considered “sentient” or having the ability to feel pain, a decent respect for life itself ought to cause an ethical person to avoid killing non-thinking creatures. I understand that it is sometimes necessary to kill lesser creatures, certainly dangerous animals or a deadly bacteria or virus, but it is not necessary to eat a clam or a hamburger to live. It is certainly important to kill disease bearing mosquitoes but unnecessary to kill an annoying jaybird.

Adriel follows the Buddhist hope that all sentient beings may live in peace. As I say to my friends, I am a vegetarian because I just want to live in peace with my fellow creatures on this earth. If that fly is bothering you, try to throw it outdoors. If you see a clam, let it lie. Or is it lay? Never can get that right.

Proof

Kurt Gödel, the crazy genius who was a companion of Einstein at Princeton, is best known for his enormous contribution to logic, the incompleteness principle. Despite reading a full and tedious book about this brilliant man (A World Without Time, by Palle Yourgrau), I have really no idea of how the principle works although it apparently points out some kind of flaw in all logical proofs. But there is to my mind a sort of proof of his belief that there is a flaw in the United States constitution. When Gödel appeared with Einstein at his examination for U.S. citizenship, the examiner told him that as an Austrian immigrant he is lucky the constitution prevents a take-over by a dictator. To Einstein’s consternation, Gödel declared he could prove that the U.S. constitution would indeed allow for the legal rise of a dictator. No one knows how he arrived at that proof, but he was swiftly hushed up at the hearing and was granted his papers. It has been a long time since that incident, but surely the ascendancy of former President Donald T*** provides some sort of proof Gödel was right. (a record of the incident at the hearing can be found here: https://jeffreykegler.github.io/personal/morgenstern.html).

Pandemic Did This

So we are still at home almost perpetually and Adriel is plenty sick of staring at a computer screen. I have been doing Duolingo lessons since Hector was a pup. Now when the screens tells me “I am so proud of you” I feel good. It’s the best thing that happens to me all day. How did it come to this? When Duolingo tells me “keep trying” or “a common mistake” I am sorely hurt. This has gone far enough.