I’m reading an excellent book which, in a few paragraphs, summarizes the neurological basis for credit card debt and the sub-prime mortgage debacle. In How We Decide, Jonah Lehrer explains how our emotions tend to overvalue immediate gains at the expense of long-term advantages.
The problem is this: thinking about immediate rewards occurs in one part of the brain—the mid-brain limbic system—and thinking about longer-term rewards occurs in another part of the brain—the prefrontal cortex. The limbic system—rich in dopamine, the neurotransmitter associated with pleasure—rewards us immediately for making a decision that feels good. When we make a rational decision—such as the decision to save $50 for retirement instead of spending it on yet another pair of shoes—there’s no such reward.
The mid-brain works hard to short-circuit many of the decisions we make with the rational prefrontal cortex. “All these cells want is a reward,” says Lehrer, “and they want it now.”
It’s only been in the past ten to twenty years that scientists have really begun to understand how the brain works. New imaging techniques allow them to actually watch a brain in action, as movement and colors on a monitor show the level of activity in different areas. This type of knowledge has immediate practical applications, and the sooner we can get it out to the general public, the better.
With knowledge of how our brain works, maybe we can learn to choose which part of it we use to make certain types of decisions. Maybe we can learn to quit duping and doping ourselves with short-term rewards and empty promises. Maybe we can learn to distinguish between emotional and rational decisions and—with an overall plan for a healthy, successful life—quit letting the emotional brain drive the train.
Clearly, both emotions and intellect are necessary for making good decisions. But most of us tend to get the balance wrong a good deal of the time. Understanding the advantages and limitations of the emotional brain might go along way toward helping us all make better choices.
In the days to come, I’m going to look for times when I’m tempted to do something my rational mind doesn’t approve. I’m going to try consciously shifting my thinking from my mid-brain to my forebrain. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Monday, May 11, 2009
Politics and Education
“Education is politicized everywhere, but rarely as much as in the United States [where] education at every level, federal, state, and local, is suffused with political considerations.”
−Howard Gardner, The Disciplined Mind
Every year in my state, as in every state, hundreds of bills having to do with education are proposed in the legislature. For the most part, these bills represent attempts by special interest groups and the legislators themselves to micromanage what goes on in schools. Everybody has an opinion about how schools should be run—whether or not he or she has any knowledge of good educational practices or any recent experience in schools.
Having legislators decide matters of curriculum—e.g., whether reading should focus primarily on phonics or word recognition—makes about as much sense as having the legislature vote on which tumors should be considered operable or which drugs should be used to treat diabetes. It should be the role of legislators to establish state professional standards in certain areas, set up a means to ensure that professionals meet those standards, and then let the professionals do their jobs.
As a nation, we’ve long had a commitment to providing education for every child. The system for delivering that education, however, has been greatly impaired by the “too many cooks in the kitchen” syndrome. Federal, state, and local governments, as well as individual school districts, tend to add layer upon layer of regulations and guidelines that are, as often as not, contradictory, ineffective, or counter-productive.
So now that fresh conversations are going on around the country about every issue, including education, here’s how I propose that educational policy should be broken down:
The role of federal government should be to
The role of state government should be to
The role of local governments should be to
The role of local school boards and district staff should be to
Agreeing on the roles appropriate to each level of government would go a long way toward simplifying the issues facing education today.
−Howard Gardner, The Disciplined Mind
Every year in my state, as in every state, hundreds of bills having to do with education are proposed in the legislature. For the most part, these bills represent attempts by special interest groups and the legislators themselves to micromanage what goes on in schools. Everybody has an opinion about how schools should be run—whether or not he or she has any knowledge of good educational practices or any recent experience in schools.
Having legislators decide matters of curriculum—e.g., whether reading should focus primarily on phonics or word recognition—makes about as much sense as having the legislature vote on which tumors should be considered operable or which drugs should be used to treat diabetes. It should be the role of legislators to establish state professional standards in certain areas, set up a means to ensure that professionals meet those standards, and then let the professionals do their jobs.
As a nation, we’ve long had a commitment to providing education for every child. The system for delivering that education, however, has been greatly impaired by the “too many cooks in the kitchen” syndrome. Federal, state, and local governments, as well as individual school districts, tend to add layer upon layer of regulations and guidelines that are, as often as not, contradictory, ineffective, or counter-productive.
So now that fresh conversations are going on around the country about every issue, including education, here’s how I propose that educational policy should be broken down:
The role of federal government should be to
- fund research on learning and on best educational practices
- set national minimum standards for funding per student (much as it currently sets the standard for a “minimum” minimum wage)
- set minimum standards for safety and facilities (including building standards, lighting, air and water quality, and student-teacher ratios)
- establish broad national curriculum standards in the various disciplines.
The role of state government should be to
- encourage professional development of teachers to encourage continued learning about both educational practices and their major areas of academic discipline
- ensure that state funds are provided to meet or exceed national standards of minimum dollars per student
- enforce safety and building standards
- support development of basic curriculum guidelines for each grade level to avoid pointless repetition or omission of essential learnings
- collect and distribute tax monies to be distributed equitably to districts throughout the state.
The role of local governments should be to
- provide basic services (e.g., police and fire protection, social services, etc.) to protect students and staff
- add additional funds from local bonds or levies to fund education beyond the minimum standards provided by national and state regulations.
The role of local school boards and district staff should be to
- hire and support staff
- allocate monies received from federal, state, and local governments
- select texts that meet or exceed the standards required by federal and state
- ensure access to education for every student.
Agreeing on the roles appropriate to each level of government would go a long way toward simplifying the issues facing education today.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
A Sunday in May
On this particular Sunday in May, I’d like to express my profound appreciation to the women I know who are not mothers.
There are perhaps a dozen women in my life who either chose not to give birth or who were not fated to do so (at least up to now). Each one of them makes the world a better place, each and every day, in ways they might not be able to if they had children. I suspect that, especially on a day like today, some of those women wonder about the choices they’ve made or the turns their lives have taken. So today, I’d like to share a few thoughts on the subject.
First—and this is a fact—the world doesn’t need more children. This earth is well populated, and from an environmental standpoint, it would be best of we didn’t tax it any further with more human organisms. Our dominance on the planet is secure for the foreseeable future.
Second, the women I know who have not borne children have developed their own potential in ways they might not have had they been required to spend decades putting the needs of children first. Generally speaking, they’re well educated. Many have meaningful and satisfying careers. Most are politically, culturally, or socially active in ways that enrich the lives of those around them.
Finally, many of the women I know who are not mothers are terrific “aunts”—either literally or figuratively. They’ve become part of the “village” we all know is necessary to raise a child. Some have helped their biological sisters, who may have been unable or unwilling to do the best job possible of raising kids—or they’ve just been the “other adult” in a child’s life, someone who’s a positive role model or who offers a fresh point of view. Many of the non-mothers I know are terrific teachers, counselors, or coaches.
I despise the term “child-less,” which seems to imply that a woman without children is somehow “less.” Not so. Perhaps she is “more” than she might have been otherwise. For some, a better term might be “child-free.”
For myself, I adore my children, and I’m grateful to have them. As an only child, I knew that I could never be anyone’s favorite aunt. My children have taught me, and continue to teach me, much that I would not have known otherwise. Some people learn these things in other ways.
So for all my beautiful sisters who are nobody’s “mother,” I wish you a perfect spring day, peace in your heart, and the wisdom to celebrate your very special role in the world.
There are perhaps a dozen women in my life who either chose not to give birth or who were not fated to do so (at least up to now). Each one of them makes the world a better place, each and every day, in ways they might not be able to if they had children. I suspect that, especially on a day like today, some of those women wonder about the choices they’ve made or the turns their lives have taken. So today, I’d like to share a few thoughts on the subject.
First—and this is a fact—the world doesn’t need more children. This earth is well populated, and from an environmental standpoint, it would be best of we didn’t tax it any further with more human organisms. Our dominance on the planet is secure for the foreseeable future.
Second, the women I know who have not borne children have developed their own potential in ways they might not have had they been required to spend decades putting the needs of children first. Generally speaking, they’re well educated. Many have meaningful and satisfying careers. Most are politically, culturally, or socially active in ways that enrich the lives of those around them.
Finally, many of the women I know who are not mothers are terrific “aunts”—either literally or figuratively. They’ve become part of the “village” we all know is necessary to raise a child. Some have helped their biological sisters, who may have been unable or unwilling to do the best job possible of raising kids—or they’ve just been the “other adult” in a child’s life, someone who’s a positive role model or who offers a fresh point of view. Many of the non-mothers I know are terrific teachers, counselors, or coaches.
I despise the term “child-less,” which seems to imply that a woman without children is somehow “less.” Not so. Perhaps she is “more” than she might have been otherwise. For some, a better term might be “child-free.”
For myself, I adore my children, and I’m grateful to have them. As an only child, I knew that I could never be anyone’s favorite aunt. My children have taught me, and continue to teach me, much that I would not have known otherwise. Some people learn these things in other ways.
So for all my beautiful sisters who are nobody’s “mother,” I wish you a perfect spring day, peace in your heart, and the wisdom to celebrate your very special role in the world.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Bristol Palen's Media Tour
What are they thinking?
I don’t blame Bristol Palin one bit for flaunting her status as an unwed mother. She’s just a kid. And besides, there’s certainly no evidence that her genes or family culture would discourage her from seeking the limelight. But what about the adults involved in this ill-conceived (pardon the pun) public spectacle?
As someone who has more than a passing knowledge of teenage logic, I can tell you two things: 1) they crave role models, and 2) they tend to be very concrete in their thinking. What you see is what you get.
So we take an attractive, unmarried girl who got pregnant by her handsome, athletic high school sweet heart, and what are the consequences? First, she and the sweetheart appear on national television at the Republican National Convention. The girl’s mother shares her joy at the prospect of being a grandmother. The presidential hopeful beams with pride as though he were the expectant grandfather. The crowd roars approval. The girl’s name is suddenly a household word all over America. I wondered at the time how many girls in good Republican homes watched all that and got a very different message than their parents might have expected.
Take Two. The child is born in December and, the media being what it is, celebrated like an heir apparent. The baby is, of course, adorable—clean, quiet, and cuddly. Mother and child are getting lots of attention.
Take Three. Bristol Palin—to all appearances, unencumbered and not the least bit inconvenienced by having a baby—is launched on a celebrity tour, palling around (to borrow her mother’s favorite expression) with teen idols like Hayden Panetierre, and obviously having a wonderful time.
All this is going to discourage young women from having sex?
Hello?
I don’t blame Bristol Palin one bit for flaunting her status as an unwed mother. She’s just a kid. And besides, there’s certainly no evidence that her genes or family culture would discourage her from seeking the limelight. But what about the adults involved in this ill-conceived (pardon the pun) public spectacle?
As someone who has more than a passing knowledge of teenage logic, I can tell you two things: 1) they crave role models, and 2) they tend to be very concrete in their thinking. What you see is what you get.
So we take an attractive, unmarried girl who got pregnant by her handsome, athletic high school sweet heart, and what are the consequences? First, she and the sweetheart appear on national television at the Republican National Convention. The girl’s mother shares her joy at the prospect of being a grandmother. The presidential hopeful beams with pride as though he were the expectant grandfather. The crowd roars approval. The girl’s name is suddenly a household word all over America. I wondered at the time how many girls in good Republican homes watched all that and got a very different message than their parents might have expected.
Take Two. The child is born in December and, the media being what it is, celebrated like an heir apparent. The baby is, of course, adorable—clean, quiet, and cuddly. Mother and child are getting lots of attention.
Take Three. Bristol Palin—to all appearances, unencumbered and not the least bit inconvenienced by having a baby—is launched on a celebrity tour, palling around (to borrow her mother’s favorite expression) with teen idols like Hayden Panetierre, and obviously having a wonderful time.
All this is going to discourage young women from having sex?
Hello?
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
The F Word
For those of us who struggle to understand national affairs from a rational perspective, it’s a source of perennial amazement that so many others—especially intelligent and even well-educated others—persist in beliefs that range from quirky to downright paranoid.
Like Don Quixote, the Republican “base”—the core of extreme conservatives—seems passionately involved in tilting with windmills, fighting battles that exist only in their minds (such as the current campaign against Obama’s so-far nonexistent Supreme Court nominee). Rage is their banner and fear is their shield, and they regularly and willfully submit themselves to rhetoric that keeps those passions stoked.
And where can such rhetoric be found? At the pulpits of conservative churches (where, for many years, the words “politics” and “abortion” have been synonymous); in the secular fire-and-brimstone speeches of conservative talk radio; and, most of all, in the commentary of pundits on one particular television station. If there’s one thing today’s political conservatives seem to have in common, it’s their devotion to the “Fair and Balanced.”
Any attempt to argue with the circular logic typical of these sources (e.g., “Obama is bad because everything he says and does is wrong because Obama is bad”) is dismissed as propaganda—dastardly lies perpetrated by the “liberal media” (which is to say any sources other than the afore-mentioned).
Cult-like brainwashing can only be cured by removing the victims from the source of their delusions. Frames of mind and powerful emotions—even unpleasant, negative emotions—are habit forming and self-reinforcing. However, in a free country, those so afflicted—like those who are prey to other types of addictions—must decide to remove themselves.
If the airwaves suddenly went silent, forcing people to do more reading and perhaps even listening to others of different persuasions, perhaps we as a nation would make better progress toward cooperation, mutual understanding, and true “bipartisanship.”
Like Don Quixote, the Republican “base”—the core of extreme conservatives—seems passionately involved in tilting with windmills, fighting battles that exist only in their minds (such as the current campaign against Obama’s so-far nonexistent Supreme Court nominee). Rage is their banner and fear is their shield, and they regularly and willfully submit themselves to rhetoric that keeps those passions stoked.
And where can such rhetoric be found? At the pulpits of conservative churches (where, for many years, the words “politics” and “abortion” have been synonymous); in the secular fire-and-brimstone speeches of conservative talk radio; and, most of all, in the commentary of pundits on one particular television station. If there’s one thing today’s political conservatives seem to have in common, it’s their devotion to the “Fair and Balanced.”
Any attempt to argue with the circular logic typical of these sources (e.g., “Obama is bad because everything he says and does is wrong because Obama is bad”) is dismissed as propaganda—dastardly lies perpetrated by the “liberal media” (which is to say any sources other than the afore-mentioned).
Cult-like brainwashing can only be cured by removing the victims from the source of their delusions. Frames of mind and powerful emotions—even unpleasant, negative emotions—are habit forming and self-reinforcing. However, in a free country, those so afflicted—like those who are prey to other types of addictions—must decide to remove themselves.
If the airwaves suddenly went silent, forcing people to do more reading and perhaps even listening to others of different persuasions, perhaps we as a nation would make better progress toward cooperation, mutual understanding, and true “bipartisanship.”
Monday, May 4, 2009
Recreating the Wheel
Several “leading conservatives” (although where they’re “leading” nobody knows) have started a new search for meaning with a campaign called the National Council for a New America.
Maybe someone forgot to tell them, but we already have one of those. It’s called the Obama administration. Composed of the best minds and problem-solvers in the country, this “council” is working at breakneck speed to solve many of the enormous problems facing this country and the world.
Meanwhile, led by Eric Cantor, a few remnants of the General Opposition Party (GOP) are preoccupied with regaining their personal popularity and whipping up emotional angst and general dissatisfaction among what’s left of their "base.”
With no agenda other than opposing anything proposed by the duly elected government (and refilling their own campaign coffers), these folks are just generally against. Their peevish attitude is familiar to anyone who’s worked with kids—the pouting and rock-kicking that goes on at the playground among those not chosen to be first at bat.
The thing is, they’ve been invited to play. The work going on in Washington right now requires all hands on deck. But Republicans who try to accept President Obama’s often repeated invitation for bipartisan cooperation—in other words, those who aren’t anti-everything—are not only marginalized but threatened with political defeat by members of their own party. (Hence, the recent defection of Arlen Spector.)
You’d think their constituents would get on board and tell these renegade Republicans that campaigning should be a seasonal event and their real work should be problem solving, not problem making. Good ideas are always welcome; but would someone please explain to Eric Cantor that “no” is not an idea?
Maybe someone forgot to tell them, but we already have one of those. It’s called the Obama administration. Composed of the best minds and problem-solvers in the country, this “council” is working at breakneck speed to solve many of the enormous problems facing this country and the world.
Meanwhile, led by Eric Cantor, a few remnants of the General Opposition Party (GOP) are preoccupied with regaining their personal popularity and whipping up emotional angst and general dissatisfaction among what’s left of their "base.”
With no agenda other than opposing anything proposed by the duly elected government (and refilling their own campaign coffers), these folks are just generally against. Their peevish attitude is familiar to anyone who’s worked with kids—the pouting and rock-kicking that goes on at the playground among those not chosen to be first at bat.
The thing is, they’ve been invited to play. The work going on in Washington right now requires all hands on deck. But Republicans who try to accept President Obama’s often repeated invitation for bipartisan cooperation—in other words, those who aren’t anti-everything—are not only marginalized but threatened with political defeat by members of their own party. (Hence, the recent defection of Arlen Spector.)
You’d think their constituents would get on board and tell these renegade Republicans that campaigning should be a seasonal event and their real work should be problem solving, not problem making. Good ideas are always welcome; but would someone please explain to Eric Cantor that “no” is not an idea?
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Of Political Honeymoons
One would have to be deaf, dumb, and offline not to know that today is Barack Obama’s 100th day in office. I’ve been wondering what I might say about that without simply reiterating what many others are saying. I was accused by a good friend recently of being mean-spirited about the former president, George W. Bush, which got me thinking about some of the things I really liked about the man himself. So I’ve decided to honor this occasion by saying some nice things about Mr. Bush. (That hasn’t been done for awhile.)
First, I will always be grateful to Mr. Bush for his calm, steady leadership in the days following 9/11. While so many of us were speechless with horror and confusion, he exuded an air of confidence and unity of purpose. He articulated our national grief and determination not to be defeated. He was the father figure we all instinctively yearned for; we craved the reassurance of hearing him speak, the symbol of our identity as a nation. He inspired us then.
On May 1, 2003, when Bush stepped out of a fighter aircraft that had just landed aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln and took off his helmet, what an awesome gift he gave the American troops. He clearly meant to make a gesture that would honor their achievement and give us all a sense of pride after a time of staggering fear and uncertainty. At the time, I thought it was very cool to see our fit and confident president claiming victory in the war zone. We had little reason to believe that success wouldn’t be swift and unequivocal, as it was in the first Gulf War. It was only in hindsight, given the wrong turns that occurred later in the course of what became a long and tragic conflict, that people began to mock him for proclaiming, “Mission Accomplished.”
Despite the anger that I and many other Americans felt by then, I couldn’t help but like George Bush the day he and his wife, Laura, welcomed the Obamas to the traditional inaugural luncheon in the White House. For just a moment, I got a glimpse of them as just an American couple, gracious and hospitable despite being caught up in a time of forced change.
Even after I came to despise much of what his administration represented, as well as some of the people who helped to shape his destiny, there were times when I had to like Bush the man. With his sometimes boyish, self-deprecating humor, he appeared to really like people. Even when I no longer believed much or all of what he said (although, in all fairness, I think he did believe a lot of it), I sometimes had to admire his turn of phrase.
I was unnerved to learn recently that one of the local colleges is now teaching a three-part series of courses in U.S. history, and the text book for the third quarter starts after I was born. I’ve been around long enough to know that history can be very fickle. I don’t know what history will have to say about George W. Bush. I sincerely hope some future Republican Party, rising like a phoenix from the ashes of today’s, won’t succeed in creating a revisionist image of him, canonizing him posthumously as they did with Ronald Reagan (another really likable guy, as I recall). But it would be nice if he could at least go down in history as a man who meant well.
First, I will always be grateful to Mr. Bush for his calm, steady leadership in the days following 9/11. While so many of us were speechless with horror and confusion, he exuded an air of confidence and unity of purpose. He articulated our national grief and determination not to be defeated. He was the father figure we all instinctively yearned for; we craved the reassurance of hearing him speak, the symbol of our identity as a nation. He inspired us then.
On May 1, 2003, when Bush stepped out of a fighter aircraft that had just landed aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln and took off his helmet, what an awesome gift he gave the American troops. He clearly meant to make a gesture that would honor their achievement and give us all a sense of pride after a time of staggering fear and uncertainty. At the time, I thought it was very cool to see our fit and confident president claiming victory in the war zone. We had little reason to believe that success wouldn’t be swift and unequivocal, as it was in the first Gulf War. It was only in hindsight, given the wrong turns that occurred later in the course of what became a long and tragic conflict, that people began to mock him for proclaiming, “Mission Accomplished.”
Despite the anger that I and many other Americans felt by then, I couldn’t help but like George Bush the day he and his wife, Laura, welcomed the Obamas to the traditional inaugural luncheon in the White House. For just a moment, I got a glimpse of them as just an American couple, gracious and hospitable despite being caught up in a time of forced change.
Even after I came to despise much of what his administration represented, as well as some of the people who helped to shape his destiny, there were times when I had to like Bush the man. With his sometimes boyish, self-deprecating humor, he appeared to really like people. Even when I no longer believed much or all of what he said (although, in all fairness, I think he did believe a lot of it), I sometimes had to admire his turn of phrase.
I was unnerved to learn recently that one of the local colleges is now teaching a three-part series of courses in U.S. history, and the text book for the third quarter starts after I was born. I’ve been around long enough to know that history can be very fickle. I don’t know what history will have to say about George W. Bush. I sincerely hope some future Republican Party, rising like a phoenix from the ashes of today’s, won’t succeed in creating a revisionist image of him, canonizing him posthumously as they did with Ronald Reagan (another really likable guy, as I recall). But it would be nice if he could at least go down in history as a man who meant well.
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