Saturday, January 31, 2009
Happy Niu Year!
It’s hard to describe the sound, though I’m sure any one reading this has heard fireworks. Imagine the end of a gigantic fireworks display, except you’re in four corners Arizona and each state has their own display for their respective corner. Add in the “cracklers,” which are as to our little cracklers like a tarantula is to a picture of a spider drawn by a four-year-old, and you have a foothold. Loud, continuous. Our fireworks displays have the pace of moderate rock, with some climaxes of sixteen notes on the snare drum. This is more like jungle trance: 240bpm, and all sixteenth notes, directly next to your apartment building, which is a concrete wall in a giant sound rebounding maze. In war, sitting under a tin roof in a furious hail, while shots from automatic rifles scream around you mixed in with an occasional chorus of mortar fire, you would hear that same mix of percussion, but the anxiety would likely not give you space to listen, or hear.
Hear, as opposed to see, being operative. Despite the night bringing out all varieties of exploding colored lights and streaming jets of sparks, in the day, it’s all about the noise. Vaguely, and I don’t at the moment of writing have the internet so I will not confirm this, I remember that fireworks in the superstitious mythos that is the Chinese motivation for doing all things are supposed to frighten off evil demons, and so their powers are needed the most at the end of the old/beginning of the new year, I suppose because demons have off from work during this time as well and are disposed otherwise at their offices. Most of the fireworks that go off during the day are either the aforementioned cracklers, or large M-80 style noisemakers, which is not to say they are not present during the night, merely that any association of “fireworks,” with “pretty,” or “majestic,” is purely a nighttime phenomenon.
As is the association of “fireworks,” with “children.” While kids certainly enjoy the fireworks, they’re not setting them off. Most of what I have seen in the last two days of setting off fireworks has been single men, by themselves, usually in their forties or beyond. It’s a little creepy, their approach to the task eerily robotic. But that is not to say there is nothing childlike about it.
In fact, one of the greatest things about being here at this time is the sense of wonder and simple joy on people’s faces, from the young to the old, as they watch and hear fireworks blast off all around them. It is as if the stodgy no-fun discipline of the rest of the Chinese year were simply a show, and the time off (just about everyone has a week off, at least) and periodic unexpectable bursts of sound act as just enough of a counterweight to keep everyone aware that life is fun, the burst of sound behind a young woman making her grasp for her ears in her winter coat and turn her beaming laughing face towards her companion, blurting out something like “oh that surprised me!” If this seems like an extreme reminder, it should only go to hint at what the other 360 days of the year are like.
There is, after all, a reason this is a tradition held so strongly. If (and I think this is true) the more rigid a society is, the more unflinching its rituals must be honored, each holding up its own inch of the society, then the Chinese adherence to tradition becomes clearer. I realized this week an interesting way of putting the difference between American and Chinese culture. In America, if we say, “it’s just a tradition,” we mean that there’s no solid reason to keep doing it, and if for one or another reason, we have to or want to do something else, it’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a tradition, after all. In China, “it’s just a tradition” means, “even though no one knows why we do it this way, this is the way it is done, so it is how we must do it.” This became clear for me when I asked my girlfriend why it’s so important to eat dumplings the first day of the New Year, (and noodles the second, and on and on…that’s how specific some of these are) and she responded, “I don’t know, it’s just a tradition.” There’s a great pride in the Chinese traditions, and the sense that this is what brings Chinese together as a people, something that not only creates but also in a sense is their cultural identity. Evangelical Christians have the literal word of God in the Bible; this is what gives them their identity. But the Chinese have only Chinese-ness, and so all of these rituals, all of the history, the shared sense of hard work and study as children, and the reverence for their ancestors come together to create the sense of identity. While all these internal factors are true for Evangelicals as well, at least they can point to the book to cover it all up. Chinese only have this, which is likely a factor making them so aware of the boundaries between “us,” and “them.” You’re either Chinese, or you’ll never be, and will never understand. (Because you don’t eat dumplings on the New Year?)
There’s another interesting contrast between our two societies I have noticed but have not so far been able to find an example for: the difference in degrees and places of freedom that society allows. One might think that China and America are simply at two ends of a spectrum, Americans being more or less “free,” and Chinese not, but this is a gross over-simplification. Exhibit A: in the public square last night, there were probably 2-3 thousand people, all setting off fireworks, and very very few cops, or authorities of any kind. In the square, it was absolute anarchy, which is not to say chaos, only that the crowd had its own logic. In the middle was a huge open space, around which people were gathered. Most of the fireworks were set off in the middle of the square, and all went well. It was all done privately, by the people. Juxtapose this to a fireworks display in America, where people aren’t involved in it at all, except as spectators. The point I’m trying to make is that while in America the range of activities allowed people (by society, I’m not exactly saying by law) is broader, there is almost always still a set of rules one must abide by. In China, the range for free activity is greatly circumscribed: 360 days of the year, there is no spring festival, and you can’t choose when to have off. However, within this circumscribed area, when allowed, you can do 100% as you please. I had noticed something similar when teaching in a primary school: between fifty- minute classes there is a ten minute break of complete chaos you’d never see in America, and students run as fast as they can wherever they’re going, unless it is with the whole class. In America, you don’t run in school, only on the playground. In America, if the students were allowed to go ape for ten minutes between classes they might never calm down. But, this is China. As soon as that class bell rings (actually a twenty second song) kids are in their seats, if not ready to learn, then at the least orderly. Again, I don’t quite have an explanation for this, other than to say perhaps it is the tradeoff for circumscribing free space so totally: within that space, freedom is also total. But they’re trained well: when the bell rings, kids are sitting, when the lights in the square went off (at 12:10) people began to filter out in droves.
Another fascinating social phenomenon is the yearly four-hour pageant, broadcast all over the world, and without commercial interruption, that precedes the 12 AM turn of the year (in a way it’s odd that they’re so westernly precise about the exact time the year turns when they are using the lunar calendar, but, such is modern China.) This year the theme was overtly a celebration of the last thirty years of economic reforms, which have brought the country great wealth. In this generally tame and traditional setting (one song featured the lyrics “Mao ZeDong has to lead us” over and over again…actually that may have been the Beijing pageant the next night, but same idea) where the comedy acts were snow-white and everything family friendly, one act stood out: a dance/rap routine featuring a man, a woman, and a ten-year old. It was overtly hip-hop inspired in fashion and in music, and it stuck out precisely because the older generations find the hip-hop fashions of the youngest generation revolting. Far from an embrace of hip-hop, however, this seemed to be far more a way of acknowledging the youth culture and bringing it in ever tighter into the fold of society, defusing any element of rebellion and individuality. It was, after all, only a display, lasting ten-minutes in a four hour program, a way for China to say, “don’t forget, kids, what’s underneath the adidas pants.” Oh, there was break dancing. But the kid was wearing a helmet.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Mistakes are systematic.
What I mean by this is that people tend to make the same mistakes as large groups of other people, and that they fall into a few easily recognizable categories. I mean this in the broadest sense possible: in anything one could possibly make a mistake in, from cooking eggs to managing money to much larger life decisions, the mistakes made are basically the same from person to person. However, mastery of any of these is personal. That is, if grandma's recipe is delicious (I'm talking out-of-this-world-delicious), it's because she made it according to her own circumstances, and adjusted where necessary. If you mimic her recipe, it'll taste good, but it won't be the same. It'll be missing the intangibles. Now, if you take that recipe and use it as a base, learn the basics, and then adjust according to your taste and circumstances, and do it a thousand times until it's just right, your recipe will be out-of-this-world-delicious as well.
The less complicated this is, the less difference there will be between individuals, walking, say, or cooking eggs, though still, mistakes will be systematic, and brilliance will be individual.
But the more complicated the subject is, living one's life, for example, the greater the appearance of difference is between individuals, though they are making systematic mistakes (and so, the more and larger mistakes there are to be made) and the more infinite and incalculable the difference will be between those who do it well.
So, learn form others' mistakes, but know that ultimately at some point in your life you'll get to the point where models and predecessors are entirely unhelpful, if you're good at what you do. Unfortunately, if they're even aware of doing it, most people follow the examples of others too closely, and you get whole industries that build up around following in others' footsteps, parsing their words and actions and ideas for meaning, rather than just taking the leap to do it for one's self. Unfortunately, because the world would be much more diverse if this were not the case, and it would be easier in contrast to see what the tie that binds is. It's not bad, though, it's just the way we do things.
As a practical example, take playing the guitar.
At first, if you don't have a teacher (not necessarily a literal person) you'll suck, hardcore, and for a long time. However, following his or her example, you'll learn how to play, mostly things that have come before. But, if you only stick to the known, stick to playing in the styles of the master's, and playing their songs, you'll be no more than a recording of someone else, and you'll never be quite as "them" as they were. Think about how many really good guitar players there are out there (not to mention how many infinite more mediocre ones there are) and then think of how many truly great, unique ones there are. Getting stuck in others' ruts is not the only reason there aren't a billion immortal guitar players, another reason is just lack of practice, but it's one of them. The mistake is thinking that you ever could copy someone a hundred percent. Without their body, their mind, their past, how is that possible? Your fingers are unique, the guitar you're using is different, if only very subtly, and you are a different person. It's impossible! Use examples to learn from, but never forget that they are only examples, and you are you.
So, if you find a teacher (of anything) that tells you the way they do it is the only way, be very skeptical. They're probably caught in someone else's wake. Don't, however, make the opposite mistake of rejecting all examples and sliding back to the stone-age. One needs to get as high (or far) as possible on the path of others before striking out for one's self. When to do it? It really doesn't matter. Just be aware of it, and you'll know.
Also, be aware of the above, that it is impossible to walk in the literal footsteps of someone else, just as it is impossible to shape your fingers in the same way as your guitar teacher's and that every step includes your own individuality necessarily. Learn every stage, then play with it. When you've learned as much as anyone can teach you, if you've been playing your own tune and making the practice your own, you shouldn't find it so difficult to jump at the end.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Integral Academic Healing
Basically put, anthropology is divided into two camps: the right-handed (objective) approach, evolutionary anthropology, and the left-handed (subjective) approach, social anthropology.
The simple dividing line between them is whether people's behavior can best be explained in terms of animal mate-finding drives, in an entirely impersonal sense, or whether behavior must be viewed through the lens of culture.
Of course, this seems almost silly. Can't it be both?
That's the problem; each side claims basically to have the "inside-track" on why humans REALLY do what they do, and so they are both wrong. There is no possibility of separating evolutionary drives from human culture, or (at least as far as humans are concerned) vice-versa.
That's the basic story. Now to the article, to illustrate the issue better.
"The schism between the two is simple but deeply ingrained. Academics in the subject clearly align themselves with one side or the other; once that choice is made it defines their career."
-Firstly, the schism is as simple as is possible, do you ignore the subjective or the objective, and as deep as possible, the most basic division. Secondly, the "once that choice..." part shows a basic problem within academia at the present time: it's not just that your field is interesting, or helpful, it's that your field is right, and everyone else's field is only properly viewed from one's own, and this often dismisses fields entirely. Not only cross-field, but, as here, within one field.
"A lot of anthropologists are interpretivists; they are interpreting what they see. They're not working within the framework of the scientific method," says Ruth Mace, professor of evolutionary anthropology at University College London. "That's all well and good, but why should we be more interested in one person's interpretation over someone else's interpretation unless we have got some commonly accepted grounds for testing competing hypotheses?"
-There's a little too much in here. Humans are always interpreting, even math is an interpretation, that is, 2+2 is an abstraction, with correlates in our experience of reality. Denigrating somebody as an interpretivist is forgetting that you can't really use the word "reality," without the qualifying "our experience of..." Dr. Mace also isn't counting a rather thorough, and evolutionary, means of testing competing hypotheses: bunk gets junked. That is, the best and most likely hypotheses pass on, in the long term, because people start to agree with them because they work better, let alone the fact that commonly accepting grounds is a form of interpretation. Of course, she has a point in the end, and that is that it is certainly worthy and important to ground understandings in the world of experimental data. It's just not a litmus-test for validity.
"The scientific method is a common currency across all scientific disciplines, most of the social sciences included. In that way, disciplines can speak to each other."
-An example of the "all through my field" way of looking at things. As Dr. Ingold says, "They already assume they have the correct answer."
Now, it's not all bleak. The integral idea is growing in the world, and mostly from the ground-up, that is, not with the explicit help of people grounded in integral theory, but because it's practical, and leading/fringe thinkers in their respective fields are beginning to understand the limits of choosing either one (interior reality) or the other (exterior reality.) Dr. Whitehouse, the main example in the article, being one of them, along with the Royal Anthropological Institute. Dr. Barton's quote exemplifies this, " I don't think there's any future for an anthropology that doesn't combine the different approaches and perspectives." That, of course, has been the integral call for quite some time, substituting "understanding of humanity and its/my/your interaction with reality" for anthropology. (Though ironically in a way that could be thought of as being anthropology, I think we can mostly agree the scopes of these two projects are rather different.)
Of course, looking at the comments below, this magical age is still far-off, and of course, won't happen for at least another generation, as things change most not when individuals change their mind, but when generations die off. However, if a truly integral understanding can begin to pull all of this together, it could be a catalyst. That, of course, is in danger of falling into the same trap: everything must be viewed from an integral perspective, or it's not valid. This is not what I mean. The integral perspective itself is, of course, not really a single perspective, it's the injunction to state the weaknesses clearly just as you state the truths of your work and viewpoint. Every concept and argument is resting on a point of impossibility, there is nothing without caveat. Even the caveat. So live your life.