One of the advantages in living in a big city is the opportunity to see lots of events live. Now we have settled in, we have started to make the most of this. In December, after my orchestra and choir concert in Bucharest, we have attended four contrasting events in New York.
First came my first trip to the Metropolitan Opera. A previous choir gave us a very generous gift token to the Met as a leaving gift, so we can enjoy this place many times. As with most venues in New York, the first decision is how much to pay. Ticket prices at the Met vary from 25 dollars to something over 1000 dollars. Another thing to be aware of is the quaint American way of adding surcharges, whether tax, booking fee or something else. We paid 80 dollars for two Met tickets and found ourselves about half a mile from the stage.
But everything else about the experience was great. In some ways, the distance helped, as it created a clear panorama view of the whole stage and its effects. The singers are amazing, how they can project so far over so long is a wonder. The Met has a beautiful location in the Lincoln centre. The audience is quiet and knowledgeable. And they have a neat facility whereby you can have personal English (or other language) subtitles for the text. It might have been a mistake choosing Mozart for our first try, since three hours of Mozart lacks a bit of variety for my taste. But a very good experience overall.
Then we took the family to see the Nets play basketball at the Barclays centre in Brooklyn. The pricing there was very similar, except that the best seats were even more expensive than the opera. This time we paid sixty five dollars per ticket to sit the same half a mile away. Once again this was less of a handicap than I expected, as the action is still clear and distance lends some perspective too. What basketball has done is really to build up the experience around the match, with good entertainment during (frequent) time outs and intervals, and great use of replay screens.
A sports crowd will always be more rowdy than an opera crowd, and here I was caught between emotions, maybe because we were so far away. The crowd shouted plenty of abuse but did not seem to be engaged in the action all the time, and our view was constantly blocked by people moving about or by beer sellers. It was nothing compared with previous experiences on the terraces at West Ham United, but somehow in the indoor theatre environment I found it annoying.
I think we were unlucky in choosing a game that was a bit of a blowout, where the result was more or less decided very early on. One of the best things about American sports is the way such a high proportion of games stay competitive until very near the end, but not this one. Perhaps engagement would have been more positive in a close game. Still, overall, another fun experience to be repeated sooner rather than later.
A third theatre trip was to a modern ballet in Manhattan. This one was fifty something per ticket, and we were surprised to find another huge theatre and another half mile view. This one was a bit of a last minute decision on a cold, rainy day, but was still good entertainment. Perhaps for such a packed theatre and expensive tickets we could have expected live music. But the choreography was imaginative and the performance excellent.
Perhaps one surprise was that the half mile view detracted more from the ballet than the opera or the basketball. In all the disciplines, one of the advantages of being close is to get a greater feel for the intense physicality of the action, with players sweating and running short of breath. Half a mile away there is none of that, and perhaps it was the ballet that lost the most as a result.
Then, sandwiched between these three performances, we visited something for free, namely a Church service. We have become used to visiting the Episcopal Cathedral on 110th Street and a Church of the same denomination on 5th avenue named St Thomas. So far, we have not been disappointed, rather awestruck by the wonderful performances of heavenly music in perfect settings. The nine lessons and carols service at St Thomas’ on the Sunday before Christmas could rival anything performed in English cathedrals or colleges, and with a much larger audience. One wonderful feature is that the congregation actually sings, and with gusto. That is certainly uncommon on Catholic Churches.
For the Church service, we arrived the same thirty minutes early as we did for the other events, yet here we had perfect seats. The programme was better. And of course it was free, apart from the gifts we chose to make for the collection. In terms of value for money there is no contest. Whatever you believe or don’t believe, if you can appreciate sacred music at all, I have to recommend the Church service over any of the others.
It would be interesting to understand the finances of the four performances. The Church survives on collections, donations, and very modest performance fees. I would expect the ballet wages to be next on the scale, which means that I suspect someone somewhere was making a lot of money from the production we saw, since other staging costs apart from rent will have been minimal. The opera will pay higher fees to performers and the staging is more expensive, but then income from the show will have been considerable and donations will have helped as well, so there is profit in there too. Finally, the basketball, with the largest auditorium and the added benefit of TV rights, but where a lot of the income ends up with the players. No wonder coaches are fired after just a few poor results: a half empty Barclays stadium would spell disaster for the team owner.
In the age of technology, I wonder how these experiences will change in the next ten years, how many would be available at home, and what would be gained or lost as a result. Major sports are almost all available on TV already, and the Met opera streams to cinemas regularly. It won’t be long before I can pay a subscription for home viewing, probably with excellent sound quality. Even St Thomas’ streams its choral services on the web.
So why battle with the crowds and the subway and the entrance fees at all?
Sport on large fields already struggles compared with TV. Some, such as golf, are incomparably better on TV. We love NFL, but the thought of freezing in a vast outdoor arena any time after 1st October holds no appeal at all. There is the raw testosterone of being with fellow fans, but the larger the event the more diluted that is, especially now with all seating stadia. That leaves the “I was there” factor. I still treasure my 1975 FA Cup final programme. But the memory of the Nets against the Bobcats in a one sided regular season match will probably fade quickly and impress others less. I sense sports will have to go the way of basketball, and work on the event around the sport itself, with close ups and replays and interviews and everything the TV can offer.
Live music and theatre has a bigger advantage, which is that somehow recordings never match the emotional impact of live performances. Even poor amateur choirs know this, and just as well given some of my past performances! We went to see Les Miserables at the movies this week, and, magnificent as it was, it lacked something for not having live bodies singing on stage. By the way, if you like Les Miserables, you should try opera. There is little difference between the genres of musical and opera except for the snobbery and target audiences.
Perhaps technology will actually serve to grow audiences, with tricks like the personal subtitles. Pop music has after all gone full circle, back to the days when live performances were seen as most important, not least by the accountants. If that is true, then I guess that is all to the good for all of us.
And it will be worth living in a big city teeming with culture for a few more years yet.
Friday, January 4, 2013
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Medical Mysteries
One thing you can hardly avoid in life in the US is the prominent role for medicine here.
It starts when you just walk around. In Europe, hospitals are large and obvious, but other medical practices tend to cluster and be rather discreet. Here they are everywhere. Almost every apartment block seems to have rented out its ground floor as medical surgeries, and quite a few private homes have a medical office as well. There are general practices, large and small, but also an astonishing number of specialities, for things I have sometimes hardly heard of.
Then turn on the TV. Fully 20-25% of advertising is for some medical remedy. In Europe, you see the odd advert for non-prescription medicines like cold remedies, but here these are dwarfed by speciality drugs which require prescriptions.
The industry certainly have money to advertise, but don’t seem to pay a lot to creative agencies, judging by the formulaic and unimaginative adverts. The whole advert usually has people walking around, with an extensive voice over. The walking around tries to convey some sort of discomfort, but never explicitly. Perhaps that would be considered bad taste. An example is a hilarious ad where people seem to spend their lives walking past toilets (rest rooms, in American). I guess we are supposed to discern that sometimes they also walk inside too, and need to do something unpleasant. As the voice over progresses, the actors still walk around, but start to smile more, as though their symptoms are alleviated. Now they walk past the rest room with purpose and a spring in their step.
Meanwhile the voice over has three distinct parts. Part one often starts with the phrase “imagine life without” continued by a description of a symptom and a named ailment I have rarely heard of. Having established a product name (for some reason usually three syllables with the last one –a) can alleviate the symptom, the voice starts to speak more quickly and reads a disclaimer, while the poor actors continue to walk around in the background, unsure whether to act in pain or cured.
The voice over disclaimer is hilarious, and is enough to put anyone off almost any product. For example, it might say that the product can lead to side effects of depression, suicidal tendency or death, before launching on a long list of other potential problems. OK, maybe that one isn’t for me then.
Finally, the happy walk starts and the voice over reverts to the slower tone. Ask your doctor about product X, we are implored, if we really want to walk around all day avoiding rest rooms, and don’t care too much about the suicide risk.
I do not exaggerate, this comes up virtually every break for something ending in –a. After a while it just starts to wash over you.
Not quite so common, but still a major advertising category, are legal compensation chasers. We knows these ones in Britain too, thanks to the lovely banks and their lovely mis-selling. But here, they are everywhere, and usually relate to a medical product which has had bad side-effects. Seemingly, I should be looking out for people who took all these three syllable products and then died or became suicidal, because then I could replace rest rooms with banks and investment products in my own walking life after picking up my compensation bonanza.
So what is happening here, and is it all bad?
After coming to the US, eventually we got around to registering with a GP and a dentist. In Europe, that might involve a quick visit, and never seeing them again in years. Not here.
The first part of any medical visit is the legal and financial part. All surgeries have as many people handling that as the actual medicine. You fill out form after form, with two purposes. One purpose is to tell them we won’t sue. The other is to establish who will pay, usually the insurance that comes from my wife’s work.
Then you make it to the actual physician. They have wonderful equipment and take a lot of time with you. They give lots of tests and send you to other places for more tests. And then they find things to treat. Expensive things.
So I tell the GP I am a bit deaf. In Europe that would lead to a quick inspection for wax and a shrug of the shoulders. Not in the US: I am referred to an audiologist, who turns out to have a financial and legal firewall, followed by impressive assistants and equipment. He sends me for another scan at another place, just to make sure.
The result is that between the four of us we must have made over twenty medical visits in three months. Some are regular, some are following up issues, some are preventative. All lead to a bill for the insurance company, and most lead to a follow up treatment.
And the bills are massive. I have a direct benchmark, since I happen to have had blood tests in Portugal, the Netherlands and the USA during 2012. The USA cost is between ten and fifty times higher, for what I perceive to be similar tests. They probably use more modern equipment, used by more highly paid and plentiful staff, backed by finance and legal overheads and still making good margins.
So now I understand a bit more why so many businesses here are medical. I suppose I can even understand the economics of the advertising, since if I do visit my GP and suggest the three syllable product for my (real?) rest-room problem, she will undoubtedly have the time and inclination (and financial incentive?) to follow it up. In Europe, it would take me two weeks of misery to get to see the GP, who would look at me askance for wasting his time, and probably need to look up the ailment himself.
Much of this is good. I can now sleep easier, secure that I don’t have various ailments that I never thought I had anyway. It is good I am not a hypochondriac, as I would then lose sleep from having so many extra ailments to worry about. But also if I do get something, they will discover it and treat it well – which in some cases must also save the system some money.
But the expense feels horrific, and uncontrolled. The federal government pays for the elderly and the very poor. There is a layer who previously lacked any insurance (and therefore would stay away), but Obamacare will remove that. And for the rest of us we have insurance, paid for by our employers.
Individuals have no real incentive to complain, and generally will not question any recommendation for treatment. It is a brave government which cuts back on expense for the elderly, though one day they will have to. Employers complain, but are not organised enough to make an impact. And big pharma, the many medical professionals, and their friends in finance, insurance and law, will say nothing and quietly get rich.
What can be done? The European systems are far from perfect, and, it now becomes clear to me, are way behind the game in preventative measures and timely checking for common illnesses.
But here things are out of control. Apparently some brave insurance companies are starting to challenge some recommendations, based on statistics. It feels good to me that the payment system rewards them for this, but of course the medics find it an insult that someone sitting in an office with no medical qualification can question their advice. In the end, the government will need to make the same challenges for medicare (older people). It also feels right that individuals should have some incentive to question a treatment.
It will take a long time to fix. Meanwhile, some advice. First, if you have a child, they could do worse than go into medicine in the USA. Second, don’t bet on the USA sorting out its deficit anytime soon. And lastly, if you manage to visit the USA, don’t miss the wonderful TV adverts.
It starts when you just walk around. In Europe, hospitals are large and obvious, but other medical practices tend to cluster and be rather discreet. Here they are everywhere. Almost every apartment block seems to have rented out its ground floor as medical surgeries, and quite a few private homes have a medical office as well. There are general practices, large and small, but also an astonishing number of specialities, for things I have sometimes hardly heard of.
Then turn on the TV. Fully 20-25% of advertising is for some medical remedy. In Europe, you see the odd advert for non-prescription medicines like cold remedies, but here these are dwarfed by speciality drugs which require prescriptions.
The industry certainly have money to advertise, but don’t seem to pay a lot to creative agencies, judging by the formulaic and unimaginative adverts. The whole advert usually has people walking around, with an extensive voice over. The walking around tries to convey some sort of discomfort, but never explicitly. Perhaps that would be considered bad taste. An example is a hilarious ad where people seem to spend their lives walking past toilets (rest rooms, in American). I guess we are supposed to discern that sometimes they also walk inside too, and need to do something unpleasant. As the voice over progresses, the actors still walk around, but start to smile more, as though their symptoms are alleviated. Now they walk past the rest room with purpose and a spring in their step.
Meanwhile the voice over has three distinct parts. Part one often starts with the phrase “imagine life without” continued by a description of a symptom and a named ailment I have rarely heard of. Having established a product name (for some reason usually three syllables with the last one –a) can alleviate the symptom, the voice starts to speak more quickly and reads a disclaimer, while the poor actors continue to walk around in the background, unsure whether to act in pain or cured.
The voice over disclaimer is hilarious, and is enough to put anyone off almost any product. For example, it might say that the product can lead to side effects of depression, suicidal tendency or death, before launching on a long list of other potential problems. OK, maybe that one isn’t for me then.
Finally, the happy walk starts and the voice over reverts to the slower tone. Ask your doctor about product X, we are implored, if we really want to walk around all day avoiding rest rooms, and don’t care too much about the suicide risk.
I do not exaggerate, this comes up virtually every break for something ending in –a. After a while it just starts to wash over you.
Not quite so common, but still a major advertising category, are legal compensation chasers. We knows these ones in Britain too, thanks to the lovely banks and their lovely mis-selling. But here, they are everywhere, and usually relate to a medical product which has had bad side-effects. Seemingly, I should be looking out for people who took all these three syllable products and then died or became suicidal, because then I could replace rest rooms with banks and investment products in my own walking life after picking up my compensation bonanza.
So what is happening here, and is it all bad?
After coming to the US, eventually we got around to registering with a GP and a dentist. In Europe, that might involve a quick visit, and never seeing them again in years. Not here.
The first part of any medical visit is the legal and financial part. All surgeries have as many people handling that as the actual medicine. You fill out form after form, with two purposes. One purpose is to tell them we won’t sue. The other is to establish who will pay, usually the insurance that comes from my wife’s work.
Then you make it to the actual physician. They have wonderful equipment and take a lot of time with you. They give lots of tests and send you to other places for more tests. And then they find things to treat. Expensive things.
So I tell the GP I am a bit deaf. In Europe that would lead to a quick inspection for wax and a shrug of the shoulders. Not in the US: I am referred to an audiologist, who turns out to have a financial and legal firewall, followed by impressive assistants and equipment. He sends me for another scan at another place, just to make sure.
The result is that between the four of us we must have made over twenty medical visits in three months. Some are regular, some are following up issues, some are preventative. All lead to a bill for the insurance company, and most lead to a follow up treatment.
And the bills are massive. I have a direct benchmark, since I happen to have had blood tests in Portugal, the Netherlands and the USA during 2012. The USA cost is between ten and fifty times higher, for what I perceive to be similar tests. They probably use more modern equipment, used by more highly paid and plentiful staff, backed by finance and legal overheads and still making good margins.
So now I understand a bit more why so many businesses here are medical. I suppose I can even understand the economics of the advertising, since if I do visit my GP and suggest the three syllable product for my (real?) rest-room problem, she will undoubtedly have the time and inclination (and financial incentive?) to follow it up. In Europe, it would take me two weeks of misery to get to see the GP, who would look at me askance for wasting his time, and probably need to look up the ailment himself.
Much of this is good. I can now sleep easier, secure that I don’t have various ailments that I never thought I had anyway. It is good I am not a hypochondriac, as I would then lose sleep from having so many extra ailments to worry about. But also if I do get something, they will discover it and treat it well – which in some cases must also save the system some money.
But the expense feels horrific, and uncontrolled. The federal government pays for the elderly and the very poor. There is a layer who previously lacked any insurance (and therefore would stay away), but Obamacare will remove that. And for the rest of us we have insurance, paid for by our employers.
Individuals have no real incentive to complain, and generally will not question any recommendation for treatment. It is a brave government which cuts back on expense for the elderly, though one day they will have to. Employers complain, but are not organised enough to make an impact. And big pharma, the many medical professionals, and their friends in finance, insurance and law, will say nothing and quietly get rich.
What can be done? The European systems are far from perfect, and, it now becomes clear to me, are way behind the game in preventative measures and timely checking for common illnesses.
But here things are out of control. Apparently some brave insurance companies are starting to challenge some recommendations, based on statistics. It feels good to me that the payment system rewards them for this, but of course the medics find it an insult that someone sitting in an office with no medical qualification can question their advice. In the end, the government will need to make the same challenges for medicare (older people). It also feels right that individuals should have some incentive to question a treatment.
It will take a long time to fix. Meanwhile, some advice. First, if you have a child, they could do worse than go into medicine in the USA. Second, don’t bet on the USA sorting out its deficit anytime soon. And lastly, if you manage to visit the USA, don’t miss the wonderful TV adverts.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Get out more!
Last week I was in Bucharest. Sometimes I travel there with a colleague, and then we will usually share an evening meal. But last week I was on my own. When that happens, normally I just sit in my room and eat in the hotel or at a fast place nearby.
But last week I forced myself to do something different. One evening I went to the city centre and had a far nicer Turkish meal for far less than I would have paid in the hotel. And I also googled concerts, and got my seat for a choir and orchestra concert at their main hall, the Athenaeum.
So on Friday evening I got in my four dollar taxi and made my way into town to use my fifteen dollar ticket, unsure what to expect. One of the main works of the programme was by a Russian called Taneyev, who I had never heard of.
The hall was full, the choir numbered a hundred and the orchestra nearly the same. The soloist and the conductor gave a lot of passion. I loved the piece I did not know, a cantata of St John of Damascus which I now look up is also known as a Russian Requiem. I loved the whole show.
Then afterwards, the show had started early, so I needed to eat something. I started walking vaguely towards the centre. I almost entered the lowest common denominator, Pizza Hut, just what I would normally do alone and in a hurry, but luckily it looked very busy so I walked on.
Then I came to a Christmas market in university Square. It turned out as tacky as most Christmas markets, and I am certainly not a shopper, but was still an experience, with something for all the senses and a beautiful surrounding. I ended up eating a local seasonal speciality, dough rolled on an outsize rolling pin which is then barbecued and dipped in cinnamon or sugar or nuts. And of course I had a glass of hot wine, which of course was worse than mediocre, but still I got home happy.
I drew three lessons from my unexpected Friday night, one about being active and two about humility.
The one about being active was the most obvious. How much effort did this evening cost me? How much money? I had a delightful time, even on my own, just because I opened my senses and put in a tiny bit of effort. It is clear that the world is a wonderful place and much of it is available to us, yet we plough our narrow, narrow furrows most of the time. We should all get out more! This applies at home as well as away, and doesn’t need anything as dramatic as a night out in an unfamiliar city. Why do I never talk to my neighbour on a plane? Why do I always choose familiar food? Get out more, Graham!
Answering my own questions leads me to the second great lesson from Friday. One reason we stick with the familiar is that we arrogantly assume we know so much about the world that we haven’t got much to learn from or delight in. We don’t reach out to people because we assume we have nothing in common, or worse, that somehow other people are beneath us in some way.
How many times have I had to learn this lesson, and how many times have I just discarded or forgotten it? People always have the capacity to surprise. Romanians can sing beautifully. Composers I have never heard of can write masterpieces (and this is from a familiar genre and culture, what might I be missing from Africa or India?). The most neglected city has wonderful hidden gems somewhere. Traditions can often delight.
Three years ago I joined a specific self-help group for a time, a group which did me a lot of good. Many of the other attendees were quite desperate in different ways, and few had had the benefit of much education or the chance to amass any wealth. One day I was at a meeting with just two of us. I was a bit disappointed because I had a particular dilemma to raise and had hoped for a bigger crowd, while this particular lady I had always discarded as rather dull. I raised the dilemma anyway, with modest expectations. And this lady said three or four things that were as profound as anything I had ever heard, mature, relevant, empathetic. I cannot even remember the dilemma or its solution now, but I remember the lesson that many people have great depths if we can only seek them out. It was one of the most humbling experiences of my whole life – though I wish somehow I didn’t keep making the same mistakes again.
The third lesson is about humility in a different way and came from some thoughts spinning through my head during the evening. As often happens, a moment worked like a bolt, shooting my mind to a memory. The Christmas market sent me to Montreux, and the last time I had been at such a market, and many happy memories of that time. One piece of Rachmaninov reminded me of another, and a moment in my twenties on a plane to a new life with that music in my ipod (or Walkman back then, more likely). Memories are often jogged that way for me.
This concert was probably enjoyed in as many ways as there were people in the theatre, with different memories jogged. Some people may have had a bad day at work, or been stuck in traffic. Others may have enjoyed a compliment, or a hug. Some will have tired, others wide awake. For everyone, the experience will have unique.
Then go wider. There are seven billion humans, all with memories to trigger and hinterlands to be explored. Each of us is made of countless cells that somehow divided when they were supposed to. The Athaneum has a circular mural which I think showed the history of Bucharest – how many people’s lives have been affected? Many in audience will have also been there in Caecescu’s time. So might the homeless people outside. I noticed a young couple on a first date. Flowers laid by a statue recalling the events of 1989. Looking up, I see stars and galaxies.
How utterly bewildering the universe is. How many dimensions of unfathomable scale interact to create history, present and future?
This does not necessarily make me believe in a God. What it does do is make me believe in my own smallness, in the smallness of all of us. We know nothing, yet we muddle along and stuff happens.
I love this thought. It leaves room for wonder and delight and joy. It leaves incalculable space to learn. It leaves reason to hope. But it also helps humility. Whenever I think I know something, or even that collective we know something, I can think about nights like this and realise how little we do know.
That leads to a good sense of exploration, but also a good sense of caution. How can any human make definitive remarks about something like climate change, or something like the limits of the human mind? We are taught to try to be definitive, and to value certainty. We seem to need our politicians and scientists and business leaders and bosses to reassure us, so that is what they try to do. They simplify. But then we believe the simplification, and that makes us too sure, and too arrogant, and stops us listening and observing and learning. And that is how cataclysm might arise. Who can possibly be sure that the complex changes man wreaks on a planet will not end in our destruction? No-one can. Surely we need to start taking out a planet insurance policy?
So, three great lessons from one solitary night. And some good music and barbecued bread too. I must get out more.
But last week I forced myself to do something different. One evening I went to the city centre and had a far nicer Turkish meal for far less than I would have paid in the hotel. And I also googled concerts, and got my seat for a choir and orchestra concert at their main hall, the Athenaeum.
So on Friday evening I got in my four dollar taxi and made my way into town to use my fifteen dollar ticket, unsure what to expect. One of the main works of the programme was by a Russian called Taneyev, who I had never heard of.
The hall was full, the choir numbered a hundred and the orchestra nearly the same. The soloist and the conductor gave a lot of passion. I loved the piece I did not know, a cantata of St John of Damascus which I now look up is also known as a Russian Requiem. I loved the whole show.
Then afterwards, the show had started early, so I needed to eat something. I started walking vaguely towards the centre. I almost entered the lowest common denominator, Pizza Hut, just what I would normally do alone and in a hurry, but luckily it looked very busy so I walked on.
Then I came to a Christmas market in university Square. It turned out as tacky as most Christmas markets, and I am certainly not a shopper, but was still an experience, with something for all the senses and a beautiful surrounding. I ended up eating a local seasonal speciality, dough rolled on an outsize rolling pin which is then barbecued and dipped in cinnamon or sugar or nuts. And of course I had a glass of hot wine, which of course was worse than mediocre, but still I got home happy.
I drew three lessons from my unexpected Friday night, one about being active and two about humility.
The one about being active was the most obvious. How much effort did this evening cost me? How much money? I had a delightful time, even on my own, just because I opened my senses and put in a tiny bit of effort. It is clear that the world is a wonderful place and much of it is available to us, yet we plough our narrow, narrow furrows most of the time. We should all get out more! This applies at home as well as away, and doesn’t need anything as dramatic as a night out in an unfamiliar city. Why do I never talk to my neighbour on a plane? Why do I always choose familiar food? Get out more, Graham!
Answering my own questions leads me to the second great lesson from Friday. One reason we stick with the familiar is that we arrogantly assume we know so much about the world that we haven’t got much to learn from or delight in. We don’t reach out to people because we assume we have nothing in common, or worse, that somehow other people are beneath us in some way.
How many times have I had to learn this lesson, and how many times have I just discarded or forgotten it? People always have the capacity to surprise. Romanians can sing beautifully. Composers I have never heard of can write masterpieces (and this is from a familiar genre and culture, what might I be missing from Africa or India?). The most neglected city has wonderful hidden gems somewhere. Traditions can often delight.
Three years ago I joined a specific self-help group for a time, a group which did me a lot of good. Many of the other attendees were quite desperate in different ways, and few had had the benefit of much education or the chance to amass any wealth. One day I was at a meeting with just two of us. I was a bit disappointed because I had a particular dilemma to raise and had hoped for a bigger crowd, while this particular lady I had always discarded as rather dull. I raised the dilemma anyway, with modest expectations. And this lady said three or four things that were as profound as anything I had ever heard, mature, relevant, empathetic. I cannot even remember the dilemma or its solution now, but I remember the lesson that many people have great depths if we can only seek them out. It was one of the most humbling experiences of my whole life – though I wish somehow I didn’t keep making the same mistakes again.
The third lesson is about humility in a different way and came from some thoughts spinning through my head during the evening. As often happens, a moment worked like a bolt, shooting my mind to a memory. The Christmas market sent me to Montreux, and the last time I had been at such a market, and many happy memories of that time. One piece of Rachmaninov reminded me of another, and a moment in my twenties on a plane to a new life with that music in my ipod (or Walkman back then, more likely). Memories are often jogged that way for me.
This concert was probably enjoyed in as many ways as there were people in the theatre, with different memories jogged. Some people may have had a bad day at work, or been stuck in traffic. Others may have enjoyed a compliment, or a hug. Some will have tired, others wide awake. For everyone, the experience will have unique.
Then go wider. There are seven billion humans, all with memories to trigger and hinterlands to be explored. Each of us is made of countless cells that somehow divided when they were supposed to. The Athaneum has a circular mural which I think showed the history of Bucharest – how many people’s lives have been affected? Many in audience will have also been there in Caecescu’s time. So might the homeless people outside. I noticed a young couple on a first date. Flowers laid by a statue recalling the events of 1989. Looking up, I see stars and galaxies.
How utterly bewildering the universe is. How many dimensions of unfathomable scale interact to create history, present and future?
This does not necessarily make me believe in a God. What it does do is make me believe in my own smallness, in the smallness of all of us. We know nothing, yet we muddle along and stuff happens.
I love this thought. It leaves room for wonder and delight and joy. It leaves incalculable space to learn. It leaves reason to hope. But it also helps humility. Whenever I think I know something, or even that collective we know something, I can think about nights like this and realise how little we do know.
That leads to a good sense of exploration, but also a good sense of caution. How can any human make definitive remarks about something like climate change, or something like the limits of the human mind? We are taught to try to be definitive, and to value certainty. We seem to need our politicians and scientists and business leaders and bosses to reassure us, so that is what they try to do. They simplify. But then we believe the simplification, and that makes us too sure, and too arrogant, and stops us listening and observing and learning. And that is how cataclysm might arise. Who can possibly be sure that the complex changes man wreaks on a planet will not end in our destruction? No-one can. Surely we need to start taking out a planet insurance policy?
So, three great lessons from one solitary night. And some good music and barbecued bread too. I must get out more.
Friday, November 30, 2012
The Greatest Nation on Earth?
The US is a fine place, and I feel blessed to have the chance to spend time here. But one of strangest things about the US is the frequency its people describe the place as The Greatest Country on Earth. Let’s call it the GCE
It is everywhere. Patriotism is fine. People show flags and are proud of their nation. Adverts extol the nation. You expect that sort of thing from politicians and generals. But then this GCE expression sneaks in, in the least likely places. Half way through an NFL match, the commentator is moved to describe the USA as the GCE. Actually, on one recent occasion, he said the USA was still the GCE.
Don’t you love that “still”? There is some self-doubt creeping in, some fear of being in the process of being overtaken. Were the expression GCE to be any less ridiculous, the still would be a little sad. As it is, I love it.
For how would we possibly decide the GCE?
History and legacy? Well, how about Italy, Greece, Iraq or even Kenya? Longevity as a nation? I’ve no idea who the winners of that one are (Greece again maybe?) but for sure it isn’t the USA. Natural beauty? Many contenders there. Queens and Brooklyn are not among them.
Intelligence? That would nowadays be Finland, south Korea or Hong Kong. I am not sure who wins the most Nobel prizes per capita. Human development? Well, they live the longest in Japan, infant mortality is lowest in Scandinavia I think, and the healthcare system in the US is almost an extension of a bank, hardly a role model.
Who tries to lead the world to development? The millennial goals and the best UN initiatives often stem from Scandinavia, and Britain can be relatively proud too. Climate change? Norway, and indeed almost anyone but the USA.
Culture? Judging by how much the Americans defer to British culture, on that one not even they would claim a lead. There is Hollywood I suppose. Sport? Per head Australia is a leader, Brazil has the best record in the most popular sport, and many countries score more Olympic gold medals per head than the USA. At least they are the best in US Football (and the Superbowl winners are labelled world champions without irony)!
Everywhere you look in the USA you see grinding poverty and misery. Where is poverty lowest? Norway perhaps. And happiness? Bhutan claims that one, but several South-East Asian nations seem to have faces that only smile. Studies of child well-being I always find interesting, even though they tend to cover only developed nations. In those the Netherlands and Scandinavia win, while the USA and UK rank dead last.
Then there is wealth. Total GDP in the US is highest, but what does that actually mean? GDP per person is higher in Luxembourg and other small states. And increasingly the US is mired in debt, piles and piles of it, with so sign of any reduction. Many great companies come from the US, and the economy is known as innovative, but, per head, Finland would certainly beat it.
What about politics and freedom? Probably liberty and freedom are the words the GCE advocates would back up their claims with. Well, the politics is horrible, if the recent election is anything to go by, with money controlling everything and little attempt at a debate. As for liberty, maybe US passport holders do OK, but the rest of us have to stand in line quite a lot! Religious tolerance seems pretty limited, while social tolerance appears weak. How can a state with so many signs and instructions and caveats and lawsuits claim a lead in liberty? The medical adverts here are hilarious. And the US locks up more people per head than almost any nation on earth, and kills some, including children. Liberty?
There is one definition left. Military power. On that one there is no contest. Since the Bay of pigs it hasn’t actually led to many glorious victories, but for sure the US military might leaves the rest in its wake and enables a decisive voice in many conflicts, for good or ill.
So, when the commentator says GCE, he should really talk about the biggest power to bully others around. Judging by league tables, the true greatest nations might be Nordic ones, though part of their nature would mean they would never claim it – indeed the Swedes would hate the idea.
This is fun, and I should repeat I do love the place and its people. But what interests me is the effect of the continuous GCE claims. Does it do good or does it do harm?
Before that, some slightly related stories. First, in the US the festival of Christ the King is known as Christ the King of the Universe. Listening to that made me think of Superman or Flash Gordon. We wouldn’t try that in Europe. In the same service, we sang a patriotic American hymn to the tune of, wait for it, God Save the Queen. That made me feel slightly odd, though then I realised I’d been singing alternative words to the German national anthem since I was a child (but not patriotic ones).
Anyway, many Americans believe they are the GCE (still, ha ha), and there seems to be some informal campaign to perpetuate the belief. Annoying and amusing to foreigners for sure, but does the perception help the US? Or help the world?
On the plus side, it makes people walk taller, complain less (even in New York), and work better as a team. There is a feel good factor about the place. Strangely, this even seems to extend to immigrants, especially second and later generation ones. And it may even create a market for further immigrants, which allows the US to be selective and still let in productive ones. It creates some unifying values, even if in practice these are not always followed. All these things have some benefit. The nation seems more likely to hold together while it believes in itself.
But, even for the US, there are downsides too. The same factors diminish healthy challenge. Try raising gun laws here and hear the denial. The election campaign did not for an instant consider that there might be something to learn from other nations, only ugly false portrayal of China.
Arguably, hubris is what destroys all empires. They get lazy, they stop learning, they think they can do things that they can’t. The saddest tragic failure of the last twenty years might be the unshakeable belief in the USA that their troops would be welcomed with open arms into Baghdad. That has a real fin de siècle feel about it, as does the denial over economic reality, and the descent into complacent obesity. The Romans and even the British came to see themselves as infallible, and thus sowed the seeds of their own downfall.
To the world, the scorecard is even more weighted on the downside. Having a hegemon can have advantages, for example in leading efforts on something like climate change. But that hegemon has to be able to see beyond its borders occasionally. Arguably, US military might has prevented as many wars as it has caused, but the ones that have happened have become more intractable and damaging.
In that same Church service, we were asked to pray (twice) that the nations of the world should come to see Jesus as their saviour. That seems to cut across general modern beliefs about the separation of Church from State. But, more, the lazy statement seemed to me to epitomise a certainty of rightness, an unwillingness to consider that alternatives might be as good or at least can exist in harmony. True, this was Catholic Christianity talking not US politics, but I sensed that Catholic Christianity would not have been so lazy in a country without a GCE complex. Of course this is the sort of sentiment that ultimately can lead to crusades, intolerance, and war (and then decline of the one expressing the sentiment).
Sometimes I become ridiculously naïve. I argue that nations themselves are the things that hold back the world the most, and the time has come to challenge the whole concept. Fat chance. Now I am asking the USA to go easy on the GCE stuff. Dream on, Graham.
It is everywhere. Patriotism is fine. People show flags and are proud of their nation. Adverts extol the nation. You expect that sort of thing from politicians and generals. But then this GCE expression sneaks in, in the least likely places. Half way through an NFL match, the commentator is moved to describe the USA as the GCE. Actually, on one recent occasion, he said the USA was still the GCE.
Don’t you love that “still”? There is some self-doubt creeping in, some fear of being in the process of being overtaken. Were the expression GCE to be any less ridiculous, the still would be a little sad. As it is, I love it.
For how would we possibly decide the GCE?
History and legacy? Well, how about Italy, Greece, Iraq or even Kenya? Longevity as a nation? I’ve no idea who the winners of that one are (Greece again maybe?) but for sure it isn’t the USA. Natural beauty? Many contenders there. Queens and Brooklyn are not among them.
Intelligence? That would nowadays be Finland, south Korea or Hong Kong. I am not sure who wins the most Nobel prizes per capita. Human development? Well, they live the longest in Japan, infant mortality is lowest in Scandinavia I think, and the healthcare system in the US is almost an extension of a bank, hardly a role model.
Who tries to lead the world to development? The millennial goals and the best UN initiatives often stem from Scandinavia, and Britain can be relatively proud too. Climate change? Norway, and indeed almost anyone but the USA.
Culture? Judging by how much the Americans defer to British culture, on that one not even they would claim a lead. There is Hollywood I suppose. Sport? Per head Australia is a leader, Brazil has the best record in the most popular sport, and many countries score more Olympic gold medals per head than the USA. At least they are the best in US Football (and the Superbowl winners are labelled world champions without irony)!
Everywhere you look in the USA you see grinding poverty and misery. Where is poverty lowest? Norway perhaps. And happiness? Bhutan claims that one, but several South-East Asian nations seem to have faces that only smile. Studies of child well-being I always find interesting, even though they tend to cover only developed nations. In those the Netherlands and Scandinavia win, while the USA and UK rank dead last.
Then there is wealth. Total GDP in the US is highest, but what does that actually mean? GDP per person is higher in Luxembourg and other small states. And increasingly the US is mired in debt, piles and piles of it, with so sign of any reduction. Many great companies come from the US, and the economy is known as innovative, but, per head, Finland would certainly beat it.
What about politics and freedom? Probably liberty and freedom are the words the GCE advocates would back up their claims with. Well, the politics is horrible, if the recent election is anything to go by, with money controlling everything and little attempt at a debate. As for liberty, maybe US passport holders do OK, but the rest of us have to stand in line quite a lot! Religious tolerance seems pretty limited, while social tolerance appears weak. How can a state with so many signs and instructions and caveats and lawsuits claim a lead in liberty? The medical adverts here are hilarious. And the US locks up more people per head than almost any nation on earth, and kills some, including children. Liberty?
There is one definition left. Military power. On that one there is no contest. Since the Bay of pigs it hasn’t actually led to many glorious victories, but for sure the US military might leaves the rest in its wake and enables a decisive voice in many conflicts, for good or ill.
So, when the commentator says GCE, he should really talk about the biggest power to bully others around. Judging by league tables, the true greatest nations might be Nordic ones, though part of their nature would mean they would never claim it – indeed the Swedes would hate the idea.
This is fun, and I should repeat I do love the place and its people. But what interests me is the effect of the continuous GCE claims. Does it do good or does it do harm?
Before that, some slightly related stories. First, in the US the festival of Christ the King is known as Christ the King of the Universe. Listening to that made me think of Superman or Flash Gordon. We wouldn’t try that in Europe. In the same service, we sang a patriotic American hymn to the tune of, wait for it, God Save the Queen. That made me feel slightly odd, though then I realised I’d been singing alternative words to the German national anthem since I was a child (but not patriotic ones).
Anyway, many Americans believe they are the GCE (still, ha ha), and there seems to be some informal campaign to perpetuate the belief. Annoying and amusing to foreigners for sure, but does the perception help the US? Or help the world?
On the plus side, it makes people walk taller, complain less (even in New York), and work better as a team. There is a feel good factor about the place. Strangely, this even seems to extend to immigrants, especially second and later generation ones. And it may even create a market for further immigrants, which allows the US to be selective and still let in productive ones. It creates some unifying values, even if in practice these are not always followed. All these things have some benefit. The nation seems more likely to hold together while it believes in itself.
But, even for the US, there are downsides too. The same factors diminish healthy challenge. Try raising gun laws here and hear the denial. The election campaign did not for an instant consider that there might be something to learn from other nations, only ugly false portrayal of China.
Arguably, hubris is what destroys all empires. They get lazy, they stop learning, they think they can do things that they can’t. The saddest tragic failure of the last twenty years might be the unshakeable belief in the USA that their troops would be welcomed with open arms into Baghdad. That has a real fin de siècle feel about it, as does the denial over economic reality, and the descent into complacent obesity. The Romans and even the British came to see themselves as infallible, and thus sowed the seeds of their own downfall.
To the world, the scorecard is even more weighted on the downside. Having a hegemon can have advantages, for example in leading efforts on something like climate change. But that hegemon has to be able to see beyond its borders occasionally. Arguably, US military might has prevented as many wars as it has caused, but the ones that have happened have become more intractable and damaging.
In that same Church service, we were asked to pray (twice) that the nations of the world should come to see Jesus as their saviour. That seems to cut across general modern beliefs about the separation of Church from State. But, more, the lazy statement seemed to me to epitomise a certainty of rightness, an unwillingness to consider that alternatives might be as good or at least can exist in harmony. True, this was Catholic Christianity talking not US politics, but I sensed that Catholic Christianity would not have been so lazy in a country without a GCE complex. Of course this is the sort of sentiment that ultimately can lead to crusades, intolerance, and war (and then decline of the one expressing the sentiment).
Sometimes I become ridiculously naïve. I argue that nations themselves are the things that hold back the world the most, and the time has come to challenge the whole concept. Fat chance. Now I am asking the USA to go easy on the GCE stuff. Dream on, Graham.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
A Fair Start
Last Sunday I witnessed a crowd of over a thousand kids queuing around two blocks in New York City to take a test to qualify to get into some specialised schools. It was quite an event, marshalled by police and enough to stop the traffic, and the event was repeated in other venues up and down the city. The kids were as diverse as you could ever imagine, at least in their visible traits.
Part of me was impressed with this piece of Americana. Any kid is allowed to sit the test, and the result is judged only on merit, with places offered based on the test alone, no interview or background check. It also reminded me once again of the sheer scale of this huge city. I have spent a lot of the last months standing or observing lines like these ones.
The test is designed as much as possible to look for innate ability, but of course it cannot entirely do that for twelve-year-olds. Half were comprehension questions, logic puzzles and scrambled paragraphs (sentences you had to place in the right order). The rest were maths, with a premium on speed of working and stamina.
We had spent (their) time and (our) money mugging our kids up for this event, and here my mood darkens a bit. Is it really as fair as it makes out? Actually, the test is judging most of all how well prepared the child is. It is telling that, even though effort is made to avoid the use of concepts that require teaching, nonetheless the regular US curriculum does not include everything that is required. A kid showing up in class, doing moderately well, and then attending the test, would very likely not do well unless exceptionally bright.
But then a child who was able to supplement regular classes with some tailored tutoring stood a much greater chance, since a lot of the key to success was about familiarity with the type of questions and level of practice at working through them at speed. Now how fair is that? Kids blessed with a good postal address would have attended schools where teachers could train them a bit, but most not. And otherwise, the ones with the best chance were the ones with parents wealthy enough to invest in tutors, especially those doing so over many years.
So New York City have tried really hard to create a system that equalises opportunity, but actually may have made it worse. The cream (or the wealthy?) are skimmed off into specialist schools and some other honours courses that are screened on test scores, while the rest end up in zoned schools. Now let me guess which of these schools the better teachers wish to teach in? Which ones find space in the calendar for extra educational activities, rather than remedial ones?
There is also a potential cultural commentary here. The kids with the tutors and the parent-enforced study ethic from a young age are overwhelmingly Asian. This mirrors what little I know of Asian education in general: Singapore and Hong Kong top international league tables, while South Korea is infamous for the young age that all kids start competing for places in elite institutions. India’s elite colleges create similar pressure there. Viewing the faces in that two block line in Long island City, one could be forgiven for mistaking the location as somewhere in Asia.
New York City does its best. In principle any kid can apply for any school. Schools are forced to provide statistics on graduation and college entry. They also provide a more scary statistic, that of ethnic mix, which provides a horrible proxy for attainment. When researching where to live in New York, we used a book of school statistics as a guide. I can’t say I’m proud of that, but as a parent there is only so much space for altruism. The overall outcome must work to entrench success and failure to locality.
One interesting outcome in New York is the huge range of attainment. Our kids are in a school with ten classes in their age grade (yes, it is a large school, large like everything in this city). The classes are streamed. The teachers work from a standard curriculum, including standard homework assignments. I have the uneasy feeling that the top classes already know most of what is taught and require extra stimulus, while the assignments for bottom classes are way out of their depth. Compared with Europe or Asia, I suspect the range of attainment within a school is far greater.
So the end result is entrenched inequality. And that is without even mentioning the poison (for equality of opportunity) of private, fee paying schools. Your parent’s wealth and lifestyle determine your address and your opportunity, probably more than any other factor. Many countries have attempted many schemes, but, as New York shows, the unintended consequences can outweigh the benefits. Some have managed to drag up the average attainment, but few have truly addressed the equality of opportunity issue. And what may look like higher attainment, for example in South Korea, might only be achieved at terrible cost to social development and the opportunity for kids to enjoy just being kids.
So what is to be done? Usually in this blog I have ideas I believe in, but in this case I am somewhat lost. At the heart of the question is the role of parents. All parents want the best for their kids. Getting them the best education possible is a big priority. And the most successful parents have the greatest ability to achieve their goal. Is that wrong? One can hardly object to the aspiration – that sounds like communism or worse. And by the way it will never win votes. And, oh yes, every historical attempt to take away the opportunity has led to a collapse in standards for all.
So we are left with schemes to make the playing field slightly less sloped but still far from level. Bussing. Lotteries. General tests. Quotas. All have flaws, but before we reject them, we have to reflect on the problem they are trying to address and the lack of good alternatives.
Two other policies must make sense, one for each end of the spectrum.
If money is allowed to create opportunity for kids, let us make sure we tax it heavily or at least fairly. The continued charitable status of British public (private) schools feels to me an example of the 1% taking the piss of the rest. I was a beneficiary, and my Mum could reasonably argue that she sacrificed a lot to give me the opportunity, but this sort of argument cannot trump the general one about equalising opportunity. You also can’t argue with Tony Blair and other politicians sending their own kids to public schools. You can argue if they act to perpetuate the unfair advantages of the system. Another obvious sore is the alumni advantage offered by some US colleges. That is entrenched privilege at its most ugly.
The other policy must be to focus at the bottom end to lift the opportunity for the disadvantaged. Extra incentives to teach in deprived areas, and extra budgets for schools there to face up to their extra problems. And schemes to incentivise parents to at least get their kids into school (Brazil is the role model, but such ideas have a place in the developed world too).
I think that is a fair balance. We cling onto the benefits that our own wealth gives us to give our kids a leg up, even though that wealth is probably driven largely by the leg up our own parents gave us. But in return we are ready to pay some tax to help those deprived of such opportunities as much as possible.
The test results for New York City come out in February. Wish us luck.
Part of me was impressed with this piece of Americana. Any kid is allowed to sit the test, and the result is judged only on merit, with places offered based on the test alone, no interview or background check. It also reminded me once again of the sheer scale of this huge city. I have spent a lot of the last months standing or observing lines like these ones.
The test is designed as much as possible to look for innate ability, but of course it cannot entirely do that for twelve-year-olds. Half were comprehension questions, logic puzzles and scrambled paragraphs (sentences you had to place in the right order). The rest were maths, with a premium on speed of working and stamina.
We had spent (their) time and (our) money mugging our kids up for this event, and here my mood darkens a bit. Is it really as fair as it makes out? Actually, the test is judging most of all how well prepared the child is. It is telling that, even though effort is made to avoid the use of concepts that require teaching, nonetheless the regular US curriculum does not include everything that is required. A kid showing up in class, doing moderately well, and then attending the test, would very likely not do well unless exceptionally bright.
But then a child who was able to supplement regular classes with some tailored tutoring stood a much greater chance, since a lot of the key to success was about familiarity with the type of questions and level of practice at working through them at speed. Now how fair is that? Kids blessed with a good postal address would have attended schools where teachers could train them a bit, but most not. And otherwise, the ones with the best chance were the ones with parents wealthy enough to invest in tutors, especially those doing so over many years.
So New York City have tried really hard to create a system that equalises opportunity, but actually may have made it worse. The cream (or the wealthy?) are skimmed off into specialist schools and some other honours courses that are screened on test scores, while the rest end up in zoned schools. Now let me guess which of these schools the better teachers wish to teach in? Which ones find space in the calendar for extra educational activities, rather than remedial ones?
There is also a potential cultural commentary here. The kids with the tutors and the parent-enforced study ethic from a young age are overwhelmingly Asian. This mirrors what little I know of Asian education in general: Singapore and Hong Kong top international league tables, while South Korea is infamous for the young age that all kids start competing for places in elite institutions. India’s elite colleges create similar pressure there. Viewing the faces in that two block line in Long island City, one could be forgiven for mistaking the location as somewhere in Asia.
New York City does its best. In principle any kid can apply for any school. Schools are forced to provide statistics on graduation and college entry. They also provide a more scary statistic, that of ethnic mix, which provides a horrible proxy for attainment. When researching where to live in New York, we used a book of school statistics as a guide. I can’t say I’m proud of that, but as a parent there is only so much space for altruism. The overall outcome must work to entrench success and failure to locality.
One interesting outcome in New York is the huge range of attainment. Our kids are in a school with ten classes in their age grade (yes, it is a large school, large like everything in this city). The classes are streamed. The teachers work from a standard curriculum, including standard homework assignments. I have the uneasy feeling that the top classes already know most of what is taught and require extra stimulus, while the assignments for bottom classes are way out of their depth. Compared with Europe or Asia, I suspect the range of attainment within a school is far greater.
So the end result is entrenched inequality. And that is without even mentioning the poison (for equality of opportunity) of private, fee paying schools. Your parent’s wealth and lifestyle determine your address and your opportunity, probably more than any other factor. Many countries have attempted many schemes, but, as New York shows, the unintended consequences can outweigh the benefits. Some have managed to drag up the average attainment, but few have truly addressed the equality of opportunity issue. And what may look like higher attainment, for example in South Korea, might only be achieved at terrible cost to social development and the opportunity for kids to enjoy just being kids.
So what is to be done? Usually in this blog I have ideas I believe in, but in this case I am somewhat lost. At the heart of the question is the role of parents. All parents want the best for their kids. Getting them the best education possible is a big priority. And the most successful parents have the greatest ability to achieve their goal. Is that wrong? One can hardly object to the aspiration – that sounds like communism or worse. And by the way it will never win votes. And, oh yes, every historical attempt to take away the opportunity has led to a collapse in standards for all.
So we are left with schemes to make the playing field slightly less sloped but still far from level. Bussing. Lotteries. General tests. Quotas. All have flaws, but before we reject them, we have to reflect on the problem they are trying to address and the lack of good alternatives.
Two other policies must make sense, one for each end of the spectrum.
If money is allowed to create opportunity for kids, let us make sure we tax it heavily or at least fairly. The continued charitable status of British public (private) schools feels to me an example of the 1% taking the piss of the rest. I was a beneficiary, and my Mum could reasonably argue that she sacrificed a lot to give me the opportunity, but this sort of argument cannot trump the general one about equalising opportunity. You also can’t argue with Tony Blair and other politicians sending their own kids to public schools. You can argue if they act to perpetuate the unfair advantages of the system. Another obvious sore is the alumni advantage offered by some US colleges. That is entrenched privilege at its most ugly.
The other policy must be to focus at the bottom end to lift the opportunity for the disadvantaged. Extra incentives to teach in deprived areas, and extra budgets for schools there to face up to their extra problems. And schemes to incentivise parents to at least get their kids into school (Brazil is the role model, but such ideas have a place in the developed world too).
I think that is a fair balance. We cling onto the benefits that our own wealth gives us to give our kids a leg up, even though that wealth is probably driven largely by the leg up our own parents gave us. But in return we are ready to pay some tax to help those deprived of such opportunities as much as possible.
The test results for New York City come out in February. Wish us luck.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Letting the GINI out of the bottle
I found The Economist report on inequality during October as one of its best pieces of work for a long time. True to form, it dissected the issue without sentimentality or bias, then proscribed workable remedies.
I have started to notice a trend in the Euro crisis. The Economist does some quality analysis. Some weeks later a consensus emerges among leaders in support of the analysis. Finally, something gets implemented. The last part is always a watered down version, constrained as it is by politics. But I see my favourite magazine starting to have a real impact on outcomes. And I like that.
First, it is refreshing to see The Economist tackling inequality in such depth. As a free market paper, it would be easy to assume that it would be quite hard-hearted about the consequence of capitalism. The Guardian whines on about inequality week after week, as you would expect from a more liberal publication. But the Guardian never comes up with sensible solutions, only hand-wringing and business bashing.
So perhaps the best part of the survey was how The Economist justified the need for concern about inequality. It highlighted the inefficiencies of entrenched inequality. Essentially, the rich succeed in putting up walls to keep out the poor, be it in voice, or education, or in protecting monopolies. That in itself constrains total opportunity for the next generation, as precious resources are wasted and many of the most talented cannot make their talent count, while journeymen can wield power without sufficient checks and balances. Then there is the risk of embitterment and social unrest.
This has always been the case, and those of us blessed by the circumstances of our birth should keep reminding ourselves. As a male born in 1960 in the richest end of an English speaking G7 country to well-off parents, I should be careful how good I allow myself to feel about anything I might have achieved.
The survey gives credence to the impression that the inequality trends in the world are currently bad, just like the period at the end of the 19th century (which, by the way, led to some horrific wars). Despite success with the millennium goals, the GINI coefficient and an index of social mobility are rapidly heading south, almost everywhere.
Now, two weeks ago I listened to a Gospel about how rich people had next to no chance of entering the kingdom of heaven, whatever that may be, and should give away all they own. When I listen to that, I wonder how commentators can claim that the natural party of the Catholic Church in the US is the Republicans. But a great thing about the Economist survey is that it gives reason for concern about rising inequality even if we don’t read too many Gospels.
The Economist offered three global solutions, defined in admirable depth.
The first, true to form, was about free markets. Stop cosseting banks and interest groups. Tackle corruption with transparency and technology. Break up monopolies, even in services and in things like education. Unleash the full economic power of women, the old and the young. Let the market do its work. This recipe is required, with different blend of ingredients, in the developed and developing worlds.
The second redirects social spending to where it is needed and does good. Shift from the old to the young, from welfare to education, from the rich to the poor. Brazil is highlighted as a great recent role model, for its scheme of incentives for people to invest in their own education. Universal granny bus passes and fuel subsidies must go.
The third, and least important, leg is taxation. Don’t overtax high incomes, but do make capital tax closer than income tax and remove loopholes for the wealthy like mortgage relief, while taxing property. I loved the idea that inheritance tax should fall on recipients not the estate.
The theme of education comes up again and again. I am currently learning about the US education system from the inside. It is interesting, and far from all bad, but it is so clear how the outcome entrenches inequality of opportunity. I’ll blog more about that next time.
Now all of this is doable, and doable now. I believe it is also sellable. When I listen to the political ads on US TV I despair, as they run completely counter to this agenda. In the obituary of George McGovern I read again his 1972 manifesto, which had strong elements but massive naivety and was killed by interest groups. Perhaps my own proposal of doing away with countries has a touch of impracticality about it as well!
But maybe there is hope on inequality. If I am right, the European elite has started to read and react to the Economist. I suspect the Chinese elite are more humble than most and digest these things too. The US elite I am not so sure, but perhaps someone will. The millennium goals were the last time global leaders managed to think bigger than their next vote. The Economist inequality agenda deserves the same focus.
I have started to notice a trend in the Euro crisis. The Economist does some quality analysis. Some weeks later a consensus emerges among leaders in support of the analysis. Finally, something gets implemented. The last part is always a watered down version, constrained as it is by politics. But I see my favourite magazine starting to have a real impact on outcomes. And I like that.
First, it is refreshing to see The Economist tackling inequality in such depth. As a free market paper, it would be easy to assume that it would be quite hard-hearted about the consequence of capitalism. The Guardian whines on about inequality week after week, as you would expect from a more liberal publication. But the Guardian never comes up with sensible solutions, only hand-wringing and business bashing.
So perhaps the best part of the survey was how The Economist justified the need for concern about inequality. It highlighted the inefficiencies of entrenched inequality. Essentially, the rich succeed in putting up walls to keep out the poor, be it in voice, or education, or in protecting monopolies. That in itself constrains total opportunity for the next generation, as precious resources are wasted and many of the most talented cannot make their talent count, while journeymen can wield power without sufficient checks and balances. Then there is the risk of embitterment and social unrest.
This has always been the case, and those of us blessed by the circumstances of our birth should keep reminding ourselves. As a male born in 1960 in the richest end of an English speaking G7 country to well-off parents, I should be careful how good I allow myself to feel about anything I might have achieved.
The survey gives credence to the impression that the inequality trends in the world are currently bad, just like the period at the end of the 19th century (which, by the way, led to some horrific wars). Despite success with the millennium goals, the GINI coefficient and an index of social mobility are rapidly heading south, almost everywhere.
Now, two weeks ago I listened to a Gospel about how rich people had next to no chance of entering the kingdom of heaven, whatever that may be, and should give away all they own. When I listen to that, I wonder how commentators can claim that the natural party of the Catholic Church in the US is the Republicans. But a great thing about the Economist survey is that it gives reason for concern about rising inequality even if we don’t read too many Gospels.
The Economist offered three global solutions, defined in admirable depth.
The first, true to form, was about free markets. Stop cosseting banks and interest groups. Tackle corruption with transparency and technology. Break up monopolies, even in services and in things like education. Unleash the full economic power of women, the old and the young. Let the market do its work. This recipe is required, with different blend of ingredients, in the developed and developing worlds.
The second redirects social spending to where it is needed and does good. Shift from the old to the young, from welfare to education, from the rich to the poor. Brazil is highlighted as a great recent role model, for its scheme of incentives for people to invest in their own education. Universal granny bus passes and fuel subsidies must go.
The third, and least important, leg is taxation. Don’t overtax high incomes, but do make capital tax closer than income tax and remove loopholes for the wealthy like mortgage relief, while taxing property. I loved the idea that inheritance tax should fall on recipients not the estate.
The theme of education comes up again and again. I am currently learning about the US education system from the inside. It is interesting, and far from all bad, but it is so clear how the outcome entrenches inequality of opportunity. I’ll blog more about that next time.
Now all of this is doable, and doable now. I believe it is also sellable. When I listen to the political ads on US TV I despair, as they run completely counter to this agenda. In the obituary of George McGovern I read again his 1972 manifesto, which had strong elements but massive naivety and was killed by interest groups. Perhaps my own proposal of doing away with countries has a touch of impracticality about it as well!
But maybe there is hope on inequality. If I am right, the European elite has started to read and react to the Economist. I suspect the Chinese elite are more humble than most and digest these things too. The US elite I am not so sure, but perhaps someone will. The millennium goals were the last time global leaders managed to think bigger than their next vote. The Economist inequality agenda deserves the same focus.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Falling with Love
Last week I mentioned the Ryder Cup. I did manage to watch a lot of it over the weekend, though I missed the decisive hour with another commitment.
The Ryder Cup makes for absolutely gripping TV. Normally, I don’t watch golf, finding it rather slow and repetitive, but this is different. The tension builds slowly, but, just like a test match at cricket, there is something gripping all the way through for days on end, with wonderful twists and turns occurring as we watch. The emotions of the participants are also very much on display. Even if you hate golf or do not understand it, I can recommend the Ryder Cup.
It was interesting watching for the first time on US television, and I have to say that overall I was impressed with both NBC and ESPN. In Europe, Sky are excellent at golf as at so many other sports, but at the Ryder Cup they can become overly partisan. The same is true in the USA, but not to an undue extent. Apart from persisting in showing every shot of Tiger woods many times over, the coverage was pretty balanced.
The result was perhaps the greatest come-back victory the event has ever seen, with away team, Europe, managing to claw their way back from 10-4 down to win 14.5-13.5. We have seen this sort of comeback before by home teams, egged on by wild crowds. We also became used to seeing the USA dominate the last day singles, even when Europe had built a lead on the first two days. This come back bucked both those trends.
It is also remarkable just how dominant the USA had been on the first two days. Most of the matches that they won were by multiple holes, while the only games they lost were by tiny margins, rescued by sheer stubbornness of one or two Europeans, notably Ian Poulter, to succumb to superior opposition. Well done Davis Love and the USA team for finding a formula for the first time ever that seemed to enable the USA team to play well in pairs.
But then it all changed. On Sunday, Europe won the first five matches, then shared the rest to sneak ahead overall. This happened despite more than half of the European team appearing down and out before Sunday, either hopelessly off their game (Hanson, Kaymer), or just exhausted (Westwood, McDowell). At times on the first two days, Poulter looked like the only one who could compete.
So then, the question is why? How did this turn around come about? Many explanations have been offered in the press, but in my view the most important factor has been overlooked.
Undoubtedly Jose Maria Olazabal did a good job as European captain in maintaining hope, evoking the spirit of his dead friend and exceptional leader Seve Ballesteros. Poulter’s ability to cling on almost single handed, plus Olly’s speech making, managed to send the team out alive rather than dead. By the way, until about ten years ago, European teams did go out dead on the last day, even when they were ahead in the match, so sure they were of their own individual inferiority.
Europe also had luck. The close games always depend on a few putts, some of which shave the hole while others go in. Luck has to play a part. Justin Rose holed a truly wonderful putt on the seventeenth, testament to himself, but that had to require luck as well as skill. By the way, the reaction of Mickelson to losing was truly fantastic. Kudos to him. The talk of gamesmanship in these matches (crowd or players) is always very partisan, and it is important to recognise that both sides have their heroes.
Love was criticised for the order he put out his players. I always find this hard to accept. It is little more than random, although he must have known that Europe would have hidden the weakest players near the end, and maybe he should have been tempted to match his form players at that end of the draw.
No, for me there was a bigger decisive factor. The USA were over-confident, not ready for an unlikely fight back. Johnny Miller, an excellent commentator, looked at the matches on Saturday afternoon, and said that when he looked at the form of the players, he could see that USA would win more than they lost. Fair enough, that is his job, and I agreed with him. But the job of the team and the team captain is to guard against thinking the same at all costs, and to try to avoid the same mentality in the crowd.
Love did no such thing. His body language and interviews betrayed a sureness of success that I believe was the team’s undoing. He predicted who would hole the winning putt – a position in the draw implying an easy win. He talked about how great his own team were playing, without warning of the risk of Europe upping their game.
Then, when the unlikely resurgence did start to take place, the USA team were off guard and not ready. They will still mentally preparing their acceptance speeches and perhaps even relying on their colleagues (“we are so superior that even if I drop my point we will still win”). By the time they realised, it was too late. The crowd were adding to pressure rather than relieving it, and the players could not respond.
This is an extraordinary part of human nature that I have witnessed in myself too often. When I was leading a bridge tournament, my thoughts would wander into the winner’s circle, and it invariably led to a disaster. By the same token, if I entered a tournament feeling inferior, the results duly proved it. A tiny change in mindset leads to a marked change in performance.
I blame Love for this. It is not rocket science. How often do you hear a player from a winning soccer team quote the team talk from his manager? “We knew it would be a tough game, they have great players”. “We knew they would come back at us after half time”. This demonstrates good psychology by the coaches. Love, and his vice captains and advisors, should have known better. This is especially true since I remember him making the same mistake as a player in many Ryder Cup matches. Someone in the USA should have been able to stop it, but no one was.
The lesson for all of us is clear beyond sports. It is amazing what we can achieve if we perform at our peak. Most of us need remarkable support to reach our peak (a coach in our ear, some anger, lots of belief). And most of us are pulled from peak performance too easily when distracted, notably by momentary over-confidence.
If we remember this in all our activities, we can perform much better. It may be the secret at why some of us are overtaken by people we believe are less talented or deserving. While we are blaming the boss or the system, maybe we should look at our own psychology. And maybe the ability to perform at peak is a talent as well, even the most important one.
In the meantime, arise Sir Ian. Living here, you could be forgiven for thinking that there was only one adjective in US English. We laugh and joke about it whenever we hear the word now. But sometimes a performance deserves the adjective – Mr Poulter, that really was awesome.
The Ryder Cup makes for absolutely gripping TV. Normally, I don’t watch golf, finding it rather slow and repetitive, but this is different. The tension builds slowly, but, just like a test match at cricket, there is something gripping all the way through for days on end, with wonderful twists and turns occurring as we watch. The emotions of the participants are also very much on display. Even if you hate golf or do not understand it, I can recommend the Ryder Cup.
It was interesting watching for the first time on US television, and I have to say that overall I was impressed with both NBC and ESPN. In Europe, Sky are excellent at golf as at so many other sports, but at the Ryder Cup they can become overly partisan. The same is true in the USA, but not to an undue extent. Apart from persisting in showing every shot of Tiger woods many times over, the coverage was pretty balanced.
The result was perhaps the greatest come-back victory the event has ever seen, with away team, Europe, managing to claw their way back from 10-4 down to win 14.5-13.5. We have seen this sort of comeback before by home teams, egged on by wild crowds. We also became used to seeing the USA dominate the last day singles, even when Europe had built a lead on the first two days. This come back bucked both those trends.
It is also remarkable just how dominant the USA had been on the first two days. Most of the matches that they won were by multiple holes, while the only games they lost were by tiny margins, rescued by sheer stubbornness of one or two Europeans, notably Ian Poulter, to succumb to superior opposition. Well done Davis Love and the USA team for finding a formula for the first time ever that seemed to enable the USA team to play well in pairs.
But then it all changed. On Sunday, Europe won the first five matches, then shared the rest to sneak ahead overall. This happened despite more than half of the European team appearing down and out before Sunday, either hopelessly off their game (Hanson, Kaymer), or just exhausted (Westwood, McDowell). At times on the first two days, Poulter looked like the only one who could compete.
So then, the question is why? How did this turn around come about? Many explanations have been offered in the press, but in my view the most important factor has been overlooked.
Undoubtedly Jose Maria Olazabal did a good job as European captain in maintaining hope, evoking the spirit of his dead friend and exceptional leader Seve Ballesteros. Poulter’s ability to cling on almost single handed, plus Olly’s speech making, managed to send the team out alive rather than dead. By the way, until about ten years ago, European teams did go out dead on the last day, even when they were ahead in the match, so sure they were of their own individual inferiority.
Europe also had luck. The close games always depend on a few putts, some of which shave the hole while others go in. Luck has to play a part. Justin Rose holed a truly wonderful putt on the seventeenth, testament to himself, but that had to require luck as well as skill. By the way, the reaction of Mickelson to losing was truly fantastic. Kudos to him. The talk of gamesmanship in these matches (crowd or players) is always very partisan, and it is important to recognise that both sides have their heroes.
Love was criticised for the order he put out his players. I always find this hard to accept. It is little more than random, although he must have known that Europe would have hidden the weakest players near the end, and maybe he should have been tempted to match his form players at that end of the draw.
No, for me there was a bigger decisive factor. The USA were over-confident, not ready for an unlikely fight back. Johnny Miller, an excellent commentator, looked at the matches on Saturday afternoon, and said that when he looked at the form of the players, he could see that USA would win more than they lost. Fair enough, that is his job, and I agreed with him. But the job of the team and the team captain is to guard against thinking the same at all costs, and to try to avoid the same mentality in the crowd.
Love did no such thing. His body language and interviews betrayed a sureness of success that I believe was the team’s undoing. He predicted who would hole the winning putt – a position in the draw implying an easy win. He talked about how great his own team were playing, without warning of the risk of Europe upping their game.
Then, when the unlikely resurgence did start to take place, the USA team were off guard and not ready. They will still mentally preparing their acceptance speeches and perhaps even relying on their colleagues (“we are so superior that even if I drop my point we will still win”). By the time they realised, it was too late. The crowd were adding to pressure rather than relieving it, and the players could not respond.
This is an extraordinary part of human nature that I have witnessed in myself too often. When I was leading a bridge tournament, my thoughts would wander into the winner’s circle, and it invariably led to a disaster. By the same token, if I entered a tournament feeling inferior, the results duly proved it. A tiny change in mindset leads to a marked change in performance.
I blame Love for this. It is not rocket science. How often do you hear a player from a winning soccer team quote the team talk from his manager? “We knew it would be a tough game, they have great players”. “We knew they would come back at us after half time”. This demonstrates good psychology by the coaches. Love, and his vice captains and advisors, should have known better. This is especially true since I remember him making the same mistake as a player in many Ryder Cup matches. Someone in the USA should have been able to stop it, but no one was.
The lesson for all of us is clear beyond sports. It is amazing what we can achieve if we perform at our peak. Most of us need remarkable support to reach our peak (a coach in our ear, some anger, lots of belief). And most of us are pulled from peak performance too easily when distracted, notably by momentary over-confidence.
If we remember this in all our activities, we can perform much better. It may be the secret at why some of us are overtaken by people we believe are less talented or deserving. While we are blaming the boss or the system, maybe we should look at our own psychology. And maybe the ability to perform at peak is a talent as well, even the most important one.
In the meantime, arise Sir Ian. Living here, you could be forgiven for thinking that there was only one adjective in US English. We laugh and joke about it whenever we hear the word now. But sometimes a performance deserves the adjective – Mr Poulter, that really was awesome.
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