Sunburnt Suburbia

Better Angels of Our Nature

This week I finished reading Better Angels of Our Nature, a momentuous book from Steven Pinker. In it he argues that that humans have never lived through such peaceful times as they do now. He assembles a massive body of statistical evidence, and then performs a particularly rigorous analysis of that evidence, to show that Western people have the lowest probability of suffering from violence than at any time in the last 500 years, and most probably in all human history. 

Unsurprisingly his book has generated a huge reaction from the intellgencia. His thesis flies in the face of what the news media and popular sentiment the world over would have us think. He particularly offends conservatives, who always argue from the assumption that the past was better than the present. 

However I have been doing an informal poll with friends over the past few weeks on this topic. I have asked them to given an opinion on whether compared to 100 years ago, people had a higher likelihood, a lower likelihood, or about the same likelihood, of suffering harm at the hands of another person. I clarified that this covered all forms of violence including war and terrorism, as well as murder or assault. None of my friends thought that they were more likely, most thought that they were less likely, and a few thought that it was about the same. 

Thus certainly most people can see from their own experience, and that of their friends, that things have improved compared to their knowledge of the past, which was gained tnrough reading, watching documentaries and watching works of entertainment. They are all sceptical of the media, where truth suffers at the hands of the showman. 

I think Steven Pinker has proposed a fundamental truth, and that his book will be one of the most significant of this decade. I have read a few of the counter arguments given in reviews, and none of them provide anywhere near the same level of statistical evidence, or apply the same strong logic. If anything, the weakness of the criticism just adds to Mr. Pinker's thesis. 

One thing that I must make clear - Steven Pinker does not think that such a decline in violence will always remain, irrespective of future events. Though he shows that the decline has resulted from a serendipitous combination of changes in how people think, he also points our clearly that these trends could just as easily reverse. Our future could easily become more violent again. Mr. Pinker appears to hope that by writing this book, we gain a better understanding of the blessings that prevent violence, and thus do more work to preserve them. 

Cruise fantastique - day three

Today's cruising again packed the day full of indolence, well at least the morning. We passed the morning on the Lido deck reading and listening to audio books. That deck gets crowded, and so seats in the shade were rare. These seats increased in value once the rain started.

At 12:15pm we did a basic Salsa lesson and has some fun with that. The ship docked at Noumea on time at 3pm. The clichéd welcome of Melanesian dancers turned up - all a bit embarrassing I think. However the scene inside the docking terminal was chaotic, reminding me of the dockside scenes in old movies.

Noumea has about the same population as Geelong, but looks particularly run down. The city centre contains only a collection of cheap, rough buildings. Outside the town hall there was a Kannak independence gathering. Given that it looks like New Caledonia suffers from poor government, and a lack of investment, that an independence movement exists should not come as a surprise.

We resisted the many over priced tours on offer, got a free map and started walking towards the beaches. We wanted to view the museums, but the ship arrived too late for that. Our walk did leave an impression. Noumea reminded me more of Auckland than any Australian city, but with many more apartments and a more frayed at the edges.

After about 2 hours walking we got to Anse Vata, a recommended beach, by which time the wind had risen to an uncomfortable speed, the clouds closed in and rain hinted. As night fell we caught the public bus back to the centre of the city, did some supermarket shopping for snacks, and returned to the ship.

We were surprised at how expensive goods were in Noumea. A bar of chocolate that in an Australian supermarket sells for AU$4, in a supermarket in Noumea sold for AU$8. I saw a pizza billboard ad quoting equivalent of AU$26 for a single medium pizza. However one lesson learnt about the currency exchange business was that P&O provided the best exchange rates, not the Noumea banks.

Politics of cleavage

Bettina Arndt has written about sexuality over many years, and she has stood out with her perspectives. Bettina Arndt bases her perspectives on evidence that she has gathered. Most recently, many of her ideas have come from analyse of diaries that volunteers have kept.

As part of spreading her ideas she regularly writes in The Age newspaper. Today she wrote well about the politics of cleavage. She argued that a women who dresses in a manner that 'society' would regard as sexy makes a political statement. Dressing sexy doesn't promote Liberal or Labour, it drops into the centre of sexual politics, and the woman is probably doing so subconciously. Like any political statement, it may get a reaction. Bettina argues that the woman shouldn't feign surprise when it happens. 

Based on the biology of sexual behaviour, Bettina appears to argue that statement takes two forms:

1) 'I am available for a relationship with the right person.'

2) 'I unavailable for a relationship, but I want to stir you up.'

In either case, problems occur when the woman receives unwanted attention from wrong men.

The primary criticism of this perspective responds that humans do, and should, exist outside the constraints of their biology. According to the Bettina's critics, women can wear what they like and should not be seen as making a social statement. In parallel with this men should act as spirits, and to do otherwise is subhuman. Almost all critical comments came from this perspective.

As a Christian I believe that we can, and should, act as spirits, but that we also should embrace our bodies, accepting the joy that they can provide. That makes for a complex duality, but that is the example that Jesus set. 

This article pushed me to some self-reflection. I strongly encourage Susan to dress sexily. My motivation rests on the idea of 'erotic undercurrent'. With such an undercurrent running through our days, we experience some fun at several levels. However maybe part of my motivation comes from ego. In encouraging Susan to dress more erotically than 'normal' I am making a statement of social success to other men. I do not agree with social posturing, as Christ taught that all look the same to God. I need to change. 

New Year's Eve in Melbourne

Last night we changed the pattern of our New Year's Eve. Susan and I went into the centre of Melbourne to watch fireworks. The City of Melbourne hosted two firework displays. The first at 9:15pm for families, so we went along, without children, to enjoy it too. 

After the firework display we sat waiting for the crowd to clear. With such a warm night, we were comfortable finishing our picnic in the dim twilight. We were not the only ones waiting for the crowd to clear. Susan noticed a possum come down to feed on the food left about from the families. 

The animal was surprisingly tame, unafraid of Susan and happy to take the dried veges she offered. 

We then wandered through the crowds up to Flinders Street Station. The size and friendliness of the crowds astonished me. We decided to skip the midnight fireworks, but due to complications around the station only managed to get on a train at midnight. We got to see the first few seconds, and then escaped the crowd for a comfortable journey home. 

The Rehearsal, Playing The Dane

Last night Susan and I went to The Rehearsal, Playing the Dane as part of the Melbourne Festival. Though there were moments of humour and insight, overall I found it too pretentious and mannered. It was probably exploring the idea that time is not necessarily linear, and the same narrative can occur with a different series of events, but the artifice irritated. 

For example the show opened with a great dane dog on stage, and after the interval the dog reappeared. What was the point in that other than a silly pun? Susan did like the dog though. 

Political Mother

Last Thursday Susan and I went to Political Mother, one of the Melbourne Festival shows. It stunned and excited us.

An on-stage mixture of rocker guitarists, drummers, and dancers made a visceral impact. On occasions the wall of sound suited the almost vicious choreography of shivers, askew arms and hunched backs. At other times the dancers flowed across the stage in wide, graceful arcs. When dressed as samurai, they reminded us of the fight dances that occur in Chinese martial arts movies. 

The show filled our minds with strong images - the complex choreography of adoring crowds before a raving speaker on a podium - the line of prisoners hanging from chains while being inspected by a man with an ape head - the circular running with subtle patterns of shape moving through dancers' bodies. 

After the show we wandered along St Kilda Road to examine the Angels-Demons Parade. These highly polished and huge statues of babies with dragon wings and demon tails grab memory space too. 

National War Memorial

Today we visited the National War Memorial, and ended up staying for over 5 hours there was so much to do. First we found the entry on the Roll of Honour for Susan's mother's cousin, a Lancaster pilot who died in World War 2. He was R. F. (Raymond Frank) Cripps, and went missing in action over the coast of Holland on a sea mining mission. 

After placing a poppy in the wall by his name, we went inside to watch the presentations on Lancaster bombing raids during WW2. By a restored Lancaster airplane there was an excellent video display about night-time bombing, and later there was a short live performance. A woman radio operator gave a monologue about the personal impact on aircrew and base personnel from the bombing raids. These two performances added significantly to the perspectives presented, and made for a much richer experience at the museum. 

I then focussed on the World War 2 and onwards galleries, and this took the rest of the day. There were more excellent audio and visual displays, including a video of a helicopter and infantry operation in Vietnam. This was next to a life-size diorama of a helicopter landing. 

To finish our visit we went to the Hall of Memory. 

And appreciate the view down ANZAC Avenue. This scale of vista can only happen with a big vision in city planning. Is it worth it? I think yes!

Another brush with kindness

Last Saturday we went out past Narbethong to help a woman do more clean up after the Black Saturday bush fires. Habitat for Humanity organised the day. We cut down a hazelnut orchard that the fires had killed, and cut into firewood a large gum that had also been killed. 40 people came out, all to help one person deal with the aftermath of disaster.

It is now 2 and a half years since the bush fires, but Pam still has some time to pass before she can rebuild her house. Standing in the setting sun brought on stories of recovery, and how it was not going well. It appears that for many, things do not go well. It sounds like the risk adverse bureaucracies plan to avoid future disasters by depopulating the area. They make the permits necessary for rebuilding so difficult to get that many just give up and move on. 

For Him Magazine: it feels unhealthy

Last Saturday a friend offered me His stack of FHM magazines to peruse. This publication aims upmarket, with tasteful portrayals of women in lingerie and articles about expensive cars, soldiering, and computer games. Articles about sport also appear, particularly extreme sports. It's art design mimics the style of Vogue.

By the time I flipped through 2 or 3 issues I felt distinctly uncomfortable and queasy. I am sure reading the magazine is unhealthy for my mind, but I do not have a strong explanation why. I think it is because the magazine encourages the reader to think of the world as something to be bought. And it indulges a lot of macho fantasies, portraying as real the world in which James Bond lived.

I really enjoy a good Bond movie, but somehow a movie shows the fantasy clearly. I think that For Him Magazine wants to make us think that such a world is real for those who buy what it sells. That deceit makes it dangerous for my mind - it might succeed.

Plague of locusts

Yesterday I went to Ararat to visit a friend. Just on the outskirts of the town I encounter a plague of locusts. Last year on our way back from Wilpena Pound we encountered a plague of locusts around Mildura. They seem to have moved slowly south. 

I thought plagues of locusts were of the ancient past. However the right climatic conditions must bring them back. The news reports that they still do lots of damage, but we starve no longer from such an plague. Food prices do not even rise significantly. We have a more robust civilisation now than did the people of biblical times. I wonder whether we have enough robustness for major climate change?