I subscribe to a lot of magazines, sometimes just for the hell of
it. I
have a long standing interest in the genre... And many of them don't
cost very much. So I signed up for Good Magazine
after I took a look at the first issue. This was especially easy since,
remarkably, 100 percent of the cost would be donated to a charity of my choice...
No lose situation... What the hell, right...
Good is a strange bird, but one fully in sync with the
times. Here's the editorial
statement:
We see a growing number of people tied together not by age,
career,
background, or circumstance, but by a shared interest. This revolves
around a passion for potential mixed with fierce pragmatism and
creative engagement. We sum all this up as the sensibility of giving a
damn. But to shorten it, let's call it GOOD. We're here to push this
movement and cover its realization.
While so much of today's media is taking up our space, dumbing us
down, and impeding our productivity, GOOD exists to add value. Through
a print magazine, feature and documentary films, original multimedia
content and local events, GOOD is providing a platform for the ideas,
people, and businesses that are driving change in the world.
The word "business" sticks in the craw a bit, but who
cares, right? Sounds like a good idea, even if the statement doesn't
inspire much confidence as far as a predictor of hard-hitting content.
One imagines post-partisan up-beatness, neo-liberalism restrung as
greenish good will plus tech innovation etc...
But looking back, I probably should have seen what was coming
up the pike. I was shocked today when I opened up the newest issue
arrived and I flipped through to the following infographic feature at
the center of the magazine. (Please excuse the poor scans - hopefully
you'll be able to make them out... Click to enlarge....)
I nearly choked on my dinner when I saw this page, which is a
state by state chart of how much higher the average school teacher
salary (well, not quite... wait for a second) is than the average
"white-collar, nonsales employee" in the US. So we're not even talking
teachers vs. proles and farmers here. This is teachers vs. executives,
managers, administrators, (nonsales) service and clerical workers.
The numbers are shocking. The average teacher in Connecticut
makes 43.1% more than the average white collar worker? In New York,
it's 37.7%. Vermont, 53.9% And in Florida, we're talking a whopping
65.2%. Teachers must stock the upper-echelons of the upper-middle
class, giving doctors and lawyers and corporate vice presidents a run
for their money! Wow! We're not even talking college teachers here -
just plain old high school, middle, and elementary school instructors.
Of course, this is just so much bullshit. The first clue is the
lead name in the list of sources for the infographic. That's right, the
good old Manhattan Institute, an organization renowned for its slippery
use of statistical analysis - a Scaife
and Olin funded
right-wing think tank in the classical mold pledged to "develop and
disseminate new ideas that foster greater economic choice and
individual responsibility."
So what is the trick of the MI study
upon which the Good pages are based? The oldest and silliest
trick in the book when it comes to knocking teacher pay: the
comparisons are based on hourly earnings rather than yearly
salaries. So,
because of the summer and other breaks, as well as the short formalized
work day (8-2 or 9-3 clock in and out), yeah, obviously teachers' rate
of pay looks ridiculously impressive. Basically, when presented this
way, the average teacher in the US, who actually makes $47,674, is
factored as making the equivalent of something like $57,000 per annum.
Which of course they don't make. They make $47,000 per year. The
Manhattan Institute explains
their deceptive method in the following way:
One of the significant benefits available to public
school teachers is that they work fewer weeks per year. Teachers can
use that time to be with family, to engage in activities that they
enjoy, or to earn additional money from other employment. Whether
teachers use those free weeks to make additional money or simply to
enjoy their time off, that time is worth money and cannot simply be
ignored when comparing earnings. The appropriate way to compare
earnings in this circumstance is to focus on hourly rates.
Um, sure. This is true. But let's be clear. School teachers are not
going
to, as a rule, find work during the summer months (and mid-semester
breaks, for god's sake) that compensates them at the same (ridiculously
high - that's the point, right?)
level. Anyone who has been a Ph.D. candidate in need of summer cash can
tell you that the summer temporary work options generally include,
what, landscaping, summer camp counselor, barista, lifeguard,
supermarket bagging - all minimum or in some cases subminimum wage type
positions. Over the summer, one might expect to pull in, oh, $1500 or
so before taxes. Of course, teachers can "be with family" or
"engage in activities they enjoy," sure. More likely, teachers do some
of that type of thing and a lot of class preparatory groundwork, etc.
But the one thing they can't do is go into cost-reductive hibernation
for the summer months, abandoning rent, mortgage, car payments, eating,
and the like. The cost of living runs on a, yes, twelve month cycle.
The salaries, yes, are for a twelve month cycle. In casual parlance,
it's usually called a year, and there is no option to stay alive and
hungry only during a fractional part of it.
OK. Well and good. The MI study is dishonest, cherry-picking a
set of data to work with that paints an inaccurate picture of the
situation. But we expect that of the good folk at the Manhattan
Institute. Still, why didn't I just write a post arguing with the MI?
Why bother with Good?
I bother with Good because they dishonestly made
things even worse. Take a look back at the scans above. While the
Manhattan Institute paper is careful to ground its
claims in the proper nomenclature - they are careful to at every
point describe the comparison as one of mean hourly earnings, which
is the right word for the numbers compared - in the Good
graphs the comparison is erroneously stated as one of salaries.
"CT 43.1% above avg worker's salary." No
one, speaking proper English, uses the word "salary" to denote an
hourly wage or hourly earnings, or really anything other than the total
amount of money one is paid for a job over the course of an entire
year. (Just in case anyone is unclear on this point, take a look
at what comes up when you search
for the phrase hourly salary on Google - a whole bunch of
calculators for converting your yearly salary into an hourly
wage.) This
error on Good's part smacks of hyperbolic, inflationary dishonesty. Far
fewer of its readers would be all that stunned to learn that teachers
have a relatively high rate of pay per hour - the graph is
only provocative because it suggests that the yearly salaries of
teachers is that much higher than other white collar workers.
I imagine the reaction of the average reader would be something like
Holy crap! Teachers make that much money and they
don't even have to work summers!!!! Overpaid bastards!!!! Which
is exactly not the case. The word salary, in other words,
allows Good to score twice against teachers for a single
strike...
I'm sure the reaction of Good would be that this was a fact-checking
error, a non-intentional slip. But of course it isn't -
the proper language is right there for them to take from the MI piece,
and the fact is salary sensationalizes the piece, makes it
seem provocative and convincing in a way that mean hourly earnings
does
not. You can hear the number crunching, the figure forcing in the
latter - the former seems to be clear as day, a simple calculation.
So why would the good folks at Good play the
truthiness game? Why would they take up this issue, which seems a bit
distant from the overall focus of the magazine, in the first place? Go
take a look at some of the press
on the founder, and I think the picture starts to clear up a little
bit, especially in regard to his family foundation's investment in teaching
entrepreneurship in the schools. (Hint:
public sector teaching jobs are not very entrepreneurial... But
privatized, deunionized schools, well, that would be a different
story... Hell, while we're at it, why not scrap the whatever shreds of
public sector infrastructure are left in the world, as tech savvy
scions of media capitalists with their checkbooks + 25-40s with their
green and good intentions (organic eats etc) would do a far better job
at this whole taking care of poor folks than the... You get the point.)
It's a shame, really. The magazine, in general, seems like a
partly noble gesture. But it is hard to see how this infographic jives
at all with these philanthropic intentions. (Even if
schoolteachers were overpaid, which they of course aren't, not by a
longshot, this is an issue that Good thinks
is worthy of attention, among all the other very grave problems there
are in the world?) And above all else, we suffer from far too much
bullshit in the realm of politics and popular sociology, far too much
fact bending and bad faith argumentation, which makes this sort of
thing, in the end, truly unforgivable.
The short seems, at first glance, to be an eco-redemptive
narrative. The tyger appears in a nihilistic urban setting and
unleashes the primitive core of each character, animalizing them. These
characters are, to borrow an often quoted term from Deleuze and
Guattari, becoming-animal, their repressed primitive essence exploding
onto the bleak world and illuminating it.
But this becoming is not as simple or as easy as my theoretical
shorthand suggests. Becoming, first of all, has nothing to do
with
essence, nor does it have much to do with the animal. As Ron
Broglio
and Fred Young suggest in the subtitle to their essay Animal
Revolution, "there are no animals." Steve Baker's The
Postmodern Animal
argues further that Deleuze and Guattari's becoming-animal is a mode of
experimentation in which the language of subjectivity is sacrificed for
the awkwardness of finding a new style, a new way of participating in
the "unthinking or undoing of the conventionally human". One
does not become an animal when one is involved in a
becoming-animal.
Tyger struggles with the line separating interpretation and
artistic experimentation associated with becoming-animal. The
film
must contend with another becoming that haunts literary scholars: its
uncertain relationship with William Blake and his poem "The Tyger"
written around 1794. "The Tyger" argues against the violence of
symmetry by allying it with the ferocity
associated with tigers and disrupting the otherwise orderly and
arguably symmetrical meter and rhyme with the word "symmetry."
The
poem performs the violence of symmetry by highlighting our desire for
order in poetry, suggesting that this order can only exist by
sacrificing the most important word in the poem and
foregrounding our frustration when the orderly structure of the poem is
subverted.
Marcondes and Valentin’s film replaces essentialist conceptions of
ecology and authorship with one that celebrates the awkwardness and
uncontrolled enthusiasm of artistic experimentation. Its setting
suggests the carnivalesque, with early images of roller-coasters and
tents replaced with the neon foliage surrounding the drab, flat
cityscape at the end. The tyger is manipulated by shadowy
figures, its
joints expose a kite-like structure to the animal. The shadowy
figures
highlight the tyger’s artificial nature and suggest a sinister presence
behind the tyger’s actions. The distinction between artificiality
and
nature becomes difficult to maintain in the film as it represents
nature with artifice and imagines the cityscape (and its resonances of
artificiality) with realistic photographs.
The filmmakers situate the background with filmed images, and place
their flat, artificial characters on top. As the film progresses,
the
distinction between the background and the foreground becomes more
apparent. This celebration of artifice in the face of authenticity or
realism becomes the rallying point for the filmmakers'
Deleuzo-Guattarian clamor of being—as the artificial, flat animals rise
up and obscure the photo-realistic cityscape at the end. It also
suggests that the becoming-animal is not natural or related to nature,
but that to be becoming-animal, one must also be
becoming-artifical.
Following
from Barret's post on interdisciplinarity, one might also wish to
enquire into the problem of disciplinarity. In our case - Barret and I
are both doctoral students in Canadian sociology departments - our
professional association is engaged in a series of
"professionalization" measures which, to be sure, are at once also
disciplinary (in the sense of imposing discipline on those who call
themselves sociologists or who study or teach or research in sociology
departments) measures. This comes into close relief in two instances:
first, changes to the structure and organization of our annual meeting
and, second, larger arguments regarding the structure of the discipline
in relation to other disciplines (this is external, boundary policing).
In large part, this follows what from what is perceived as a 'coming
crisis in English Canadian sociology' (for the most part, there is no
communication between French language and English language sociologists
in Canada - mostly because English Canadian sociologists can't be
bothered to learn to read French and French Canadian sociologists have
closer ties with other non-Canadian French language sociologists than
they do with Canadian English language sociologists) premised upon the
fact that most senior sociologists who presently dominate the
discipline in Canada were more or less hired at the same time and will
more or less retire at the same time, thus creating a power vacuum. The
question, then, becomes what to do with sociology once the old
guardians are gone.
For whatever reason, Canadian sociologists tend not to discuss these
issues in public - our dirty laundry is aired in unread journals and
unread newsletters. (For my part, I have a stack of unopened copies of
the Canadian Review of Sociology, formerly the Canadian
Review of Sociology and Anthropology.
First boundary policing measure: cut off the few anthropologists who
still participate in what was called the Canadian Sociological and
Anthropological Association.) Other disciplines, such as English
language philosophy, however, enjoy bringing their reasoned debates to
the level of a visceral spectacle more commonly found in celebrity
gossip blogs, such as the Superficial, and fully, openly and gleefully
engage in disciplinary policing right out in the open. (It makes for
great reading in the same way that the Superficial does.)
Now, I have no desire to revisit the tired question - fought mainly
by those who already control the discipline of philosophy anyway - of
analytic vs. continental philosophy and the apparent delegation of the
latter into "literary" or "social" or "political" or "cultural" theory
housed at the margins of other disciplines... (I am in a sociology
department in large part because of two reasons: (1) political theory
has a distinctive conservative slant in the major departments in Canada
and (2) the generally insular, hostile and venomous atmosphere
displayed in English language philosophy.) It seems, the philosophers
just can help themselves: endless quantifying of "the most important"
or "greatest" philosopher through online polls, endless quantifying of
"the most important" or "best" journals, publishers and doctoral
programs, and endless disputes over, say, political theory and
philosophy. (See here
replying to here;
and here
and here
and here
and here
and here
- you get the idea!) Other than reeking simple-minded aristocracy, what
do these endless fights - fought mostly on one or two blogs but
involving dozens of people - mean, if anything?
Note: I expect John Emerson to step up to the plate on
this one.
Following
from Barret's post on interdisciplinarity, one might also wish to
enquire into the problem of disciplinarity. In our case - Barret and I
are both doctoral students in Canadian sociology departments - our
professional association is engaged in a series of
"professionalization" measures which, to be sure, are at once also
disciplinary (in the sense of imposing discipline on those who call
themselves sociologists or who study or teach or research in sociology
departments) measures. This comes into close relief in two instances:
first, changes to the structure and organization of our annual meeting
and, second, larger arguments regarding the structure of the discipline
in relation to other disciplines (this is external, boundary policing).
In large part, this follows what from what is perceived as a 'coming
crisis in English Canadian sociology' (for the most part, there is no
communication between French language and English language sociologists
in Canada - mostly because English Canadian sociologists can't be
bothered to learn to read French and French Canadian sociologists have
closer ties with other non-Canadian French language sociologists than
they do with Canadian English language sociologists) premised upon the
fact that most senior sociologists who presently dominate the
discipline in Canada were more or less hired at the same time and will
more or less retire at the same time, thus creating a power vacuum. The
question, then, becomes what to do with sociology once the old
guardians are gone.
For whatever reason, Canadian sociologists tend not to discuss these
issues in public - our dirty laundry is aired in unread journals and
unread newsletters. (For my part, I have a stack of unopened copies of
the Canadian Review of Sociology, formerly the Canadian
Review of Sociology and Anthropology.
First boundary policing measure: cut off the few anthropologists who
still participate in what was called the Canadian Sociological and
Anthropological Association.) Other disciplines, such as English
language philosophy, however, enjoy bringing their reasoned debates to
the level of a visceral spectacle more commonly found in celebrity
gossip blogs, such as the Superficial, and fully, openly and gleefully
engage in disciplinary policing right out in the open. (It makes for
great reading in the same way that the Superficial does.)
Now, I have no desire to revisit the tired question - fought mainly
by those who already control the discipline of philosophy anyway - of
analytic vs. continental philosophy and the apparent delegation of the
latter into "literary" or "social" or "political" or "cultural" theory
housed at the margins of other disciplines... (I am in a sociology
department in large part because of two reasons: (1) political theory
has a distinctive conservative slant in the major departments in Canada
and (2) the generally insular, hostile and venomous atmosphere
displayed in English language philosophy.) It seems, the philosophers
just can help themselves: endless quantifying of "the most important"
or "greatest" philosopher through online polls, endless quantifying of
"the most important" or "best" journals, publishers and doctoral
programs, and endless disputes over, say, political theory and
philosophy. (See here
replying to here;
and here
and here
and here
and here
and here
- you get the idea!) Other than reeking simple-minded aristocracy, what
do these endless fights - fought mostly on one or two blogs but
involving dozens of people - mean, if anything?
Note: I expect John Emerson to step up to the plate on
this one.
Following
from Barret's post on interdisciplinarity, one might also wish to
enquire into the problem of disciplinarity. In our case - Barret and I
are both doctoral students in Canadian sociology departments - our
professional association is engaged in a series of
"professionalization" measures which, to be sure, are at once also
disciplinary (in the sense of imposing discipline on those who call
themselves sociologists or who study or teach or research in sociology
departments) measures. This comes into close relief in two instances:
first, changes to the structure and organization of our annual meeting
and, second, larger arguments regarding the structure of the discipline
in relation to other disciplines (this is external, boundary policing).
In large part, this follows what from what is perceived as a 'coming
crisis in English Canadian sociology' (for the most part, there is no
communication between French language and English language sociologists
in Canada - mostly because English Canadian sociologists can't be
bothered to learn to read French and French Canadian sociologists have
closer ties with other non-Canadian French language sociologists than
they do with Canadian English language sociologists) premised upon the
fact that most senior sociologists who presently dominate the
discipline in Canada were more or less hired at the same time and will
more or less retire at the same time, thus creating a power vacuum. The
question, then, becomes what to do with sociology once the old
guardians are gone.
For whatever reason, Canadian sociologists tend not to discuss these
issues in public - our dirty laundry is aired in unread journals and
unread newsletters. (For my part, I have a stack of unopened copies of
the Canadian Review of Sociology, formerly the Canadian
Review of Sociology and Anthropology.
First boundary policing measure: cut off the few anthropologists who
still participate in what was called the Canadian Sociological and
Anthropological Association.) Other disciplines, such as English
language philosophy, however, enjoy bringing their reasoned debates to
the level of a visceral spectacle more commonly found in celebrity
gossip blogs, such as the Superficial, and fully, openly and gleefully
engage in disciplinary policing right out in the open. (It makes for
great reading in the same way that the Superficial does.)
Now, I have no desire to revisit the tired question - fought mainly
by those who already control the discipline of philosophy anyway - of
analytic vs. continental philosophy and the apparent delegation of the
latter into "literary" or "social" or "political" or "cultural" theory
housed at the margins of other disciplines... (I am in a sociology
department in large part because of two reasons: (1) political theory
has a distinctive conservative slant in the major departments in Canada
and (2) the generally insular, hostile and venomous atmosphere
displayed in English language philosophy.) It seems, the philosophers
just can help themselves: endless quantifying of "the most important"
or "greatest" philosopher through online polls, endless quantifying of
"the most important" or "best" journals, publishers and doctoral
programs, and endless disputes over, say, political theory and
philosophy. (See here
replying to here;
and here
and here
and here
and here
and here
- you get the idea!) Other than reeking simple-minded aristocracy, what
do these endless fights - fought mostly on one or two blogs but
involving dozens of people - mean, if anything?
Note: I expect John Emerson to step up to the plate on
this one.
You can follow this
conversation by subscribing to the comment
feed for this post.
