Rigged Game

I find it interesting that most of those posting the snarkiest comments and memes about Bernie Sanders getting cheated are not his disappointed supporters (whose posts are generally more measured), but those who would never have voted for him and regularly rage against whatever definition of socialism fits their particular point of pique at the moment. Trumpeters made the same charges earlier in the year, only the RNC was less successful in derailing his train.

I’m not defending rigging the game, mostly because it subverts democracy. But neither should anyone be shocked. The reason that the DNC sabotaged Sanders was because, wait for it, HE WAS NOT A DEMOCRAT. Why would we think a national party, which is not a neutral arbitrator or referee, would support someone who did not belong to the party? Sanders ran for the Democratic nomination not because he was a loyal Democrat, but because he knew that running as an independent would get him neither the platform nor publicity for his ideas. He’d have remained that quirky senator from Vermont.

Donald Trump’s candidacy followed a similar arc. The RNC opposed him because he was not viewed as a Republican, loyal or otherwise. The so-called loyalty pledge was aimed squarely at him. And really, did anyone believe he would have stuck to that pledge? Later down the campaign trail he pretty much guaranteed he would not. My guess is (and because this is America, there is no need for proof) there are similarly incriminating emails out there from Republican poohbahs. 

What I find most disconcerting, besides the easy accessibility and lack of security surrounding emails, is that so many people naively assume that what they write in an email will remain confidential. 

Big Brother Just Might Really Start Watching

Smile, you’re on Candid Camera!

We live in a complex society, centered in an increasingly complex world. Anyone, politician or preacher, who offers a panacea, is a charlatan.

That being said, because it would cost over a million dollars upfront, with maybe another half-million annually, I don’t think we’re going to see body cameras become ubiquitous anytime soon on St. Louis police officers. St. Louis County may have a little more money, but I doubt that it has THAT much more. That says nothing about the larger cities, like my own Webster Groves or Kirkwood, Ladue, Clayton, etc. And then we have mini-fiefdoms scattered around the county. I can see it now: “Good news! Bella Villa police now have body cameras. They only had to triple the outrageous number of (trap) tickets they wrote to pay for them.”

Of course, even being able to spend that kind of money would virtually, if not actually, require approval from the local police union. I think you could get better odds on the Cubs winning a World Series than that happening.

Perhaps I’m wrong in that assessment. Perhaps police officers would recognize that there are protections built in for them as well as citizens when they wear the cameras. How many bogus complaints of police brutality and harassment are filed each year? I would think (almost) everyone would like to see the number of complaints filed be reduced, and it seems to me that body cameras might make a significant dent in that number. Given the fact that (so-called) Smart Phones have made almost everyone on the street a potential recorder, if not reporter, I’m not sure privacy claims have any relevance for any of us any more.

But I get their trepidation. As a teacher I’m pretty sure I would have resisted cameras recording every word, every lesson, every movement of mine in the classroom. It certainly would have changed the classroom dynamic, negatively impacted the establishment of relationships with students. I don’t think I ever used it, but when I moved into the guidance office at Hancock I had a recorder at the ready, just in case, because when you close the door to a small office, even one with a vertical window in it, you (ironically) open yourself up to specious accusations from a disgruntled student or parent.

I freely admit that, for better and worse, I had a less active filter than many teachers. Even when my lessons were sort of scripted, there was no telling what might come out of my mouth based on the background noise of either the class or my mind. That was my style; I like to pretend it made me more effective, more honest, more open, and, probably, at least on occasion, more annoying. Still, it was a style that served me well for over four decades; I don’t think I would have been as successful with Big Brother recording every move.

That’s another cost, incidentally, that no one is talking about, at least not yet. Someone (or, in the case of large departments, schools or school districts, or municipal co-operatives, several someones) is going to have to watch, or be available to watch, all this data (the vast majority of which will be mind-numbingly boring). The good news is that concerns about your every move being watched are overblown; no one has the time or resources to make that happen. The bad news is that one person, with skill and proper motivation, can gain a tremendous amount of power over law enforcement (or educational) personnel. The answer to the old question of Who will watch the watchers? will certainly add to the cost, as well.

While it may sound like I’ve almost talked myself out of supporting these body cameras, we cannot ignore the cost, both financial and social, of Ferguson’s current tribulation. However you see either Michael Brown or Officer Darren Wilson, how quickly might that tragedy have been resolved (or perhaps even prevented) had body cameras been in play and the information immediately available? I’m not sure it would thrill County Prosecutor McCullough, but I’d sure like to see something like that if I were on the Grand Jury. Won’t the overall, and continually rising, price tag of that misfortune be several multiples of $2 million? Wouldn’t ALL of us prefer that? And wouldn’t that expenditure be more worthwhile than an urban tank?

The Tyranny of Numbers

I love computers. I was an early adopter. In the same way that I remember a TV coming into the house (small, black and white screen in a huge cabinet), my daughter remembers a computer coming into ours (small, green screen, 5.25" floppy disks), costing more (in real dollars) than the 27" behemoth that now graces my desk. It was an invaluable tool for me as a teacher. Four years ago my computer went south (well, actually, it skipped town without even saying goodbye); I replaced it the next day, its function having expanded from the early days of keeping grades, and making tests and worksheets to an information and communication source and an unlimited to almost overwhelming supply of help and inspiration.

However, I’m not the only one using this tool in education. It’s also being used in offices and state houses, not just to analyze data but to make decisions and judgments. Are you a good teacher? Let’s look at numbers. Is your school doing the job? Let’s look at numbers. Should we interview a candidate for a job? There’s an algorithm that filters those decisions, too, one which factors in GPA, class rank and test scores, no matter how many years old those numbers may be. The problem is that, all too often, allowing computers to make decisions is not just taking the easy way out, but is also taking the human being out of the equation.

I started using a computer gradebook by about 1985. It was convenient to be able to show printouts when kids and/or parents wanted to complain. That tactic was also disingenuous, because I was the human being who entered the data and, I now confess, the data I entered sometimes helped create the outcome I felt was warranted (never in a negative direction, however). My point is, the human assessment, my professional judgment, never left the equation.

That is what is quickly disappearing, and not just in education. Nurses are, more and more, being channeled into data entry workers, away from their patients’ bedsides. A former student has just left the social work profession, another victim (if I’m reading between the lines correctly) of the tyranny of numbers. Police officers seem to be judged on the numbers they generate, from case closures to traffic tickets. Doctors’ hands are often tied by, and their compensation tied to, numbers from insurance companies. Personnel decisions are (too) frequently based on short-term bottom lines; the personal and social impacts of those decisions play no significant role in the process. I would suggest that the abysmal treatment of our veterans is more the result of bean counters and their numbers than systemic incompetence.

The importance of the human connection is rapidly being overshadowed and replaced by computer-generated numbers. While I understand the need for accountability and assessment, to make some number the primary, if not sole yardstick is absurd, especially in the above-mentioned professions or cases. For years my message to my students was, “Don’t ever allow your self-worth be determined by a number: not a test score, not a GPA, not a class rank. You are more than some number.” Sadly, perhaps I should have added, “However, don’t expect society to return the favor.”

Fading Facebook??

It’s been interesting to watch the evolution of Facebook and its demographic. It may have originally been designed for the young and as a competitor for MySpace, but wherever it’s really aiming, that’s not the target it hits now, at least as near as I can tell. Facebook seems almost as likely to appeal to someone in danger of a broken hip as it is to someone who actually is hip.

It appears to me, although I admit I’m only truly aware of my own FB-Friends, most of whom are former students (now adults and peers), plus colleagues and relatives, that FB is most popular among adults, and not exactly young adults at that. I’m seeing fewer of the embarrassing quotes or pictures that tend to be the hallmark of the immature. I do see, and enjoy, travel pictures, kid and grandkid pictures, celebrations, announcements, wry observations, etc.*

The young have moved on as their elders have moved in (kind of the opposite of modern society, where the young move (back) in, keeping their elders from moving on, but that’s a column for another day, and not a problem I personally have). They are more likely to be found on SnapChat, Tumblr, Twitter or something even cooler (no doubt an uncool expression, but MY target audience understands) I haven’t heard of yet. (I’ll get caught up during softball season.)

To tell you the truth, I like it this way. Facebook may have gotten grayer, but, for me at least, it’s become more interesting and a way for a less than social being like myself to stay connected with people I’m interested in but would have lost contact with, barring a random encounter at a store or mall. Whether that’s a viable business model or not, I don’t know (although it IS scary how accurately the ads reflect my product searches), but I didn’t get in on the IPO anyway.

* FB is also the only way I can follow my former Mirowitz students and I’m thankful for that, as well.

Book Review: The Circle

This near-future novel by Dave Eggers has generated a fair amount of buzz and generally good reviews.

What is the logical extension of a Googlesque company (rebadged The Circle) knowing even more about you than it already does? What are the implications in terms of privacy? The scary thing about this book is that it doesn’t seem at all far-fetched. Google already tells me how often I’ve visited a site, personally tailors my search results; Amazon can pretty accurately predict what I may want to buy; iTunes suggests media based on my music library. I get cheery “Hi, Bob” greetings from innumerable sites. And FaceBook’s targeted ads are just scary close.

You’re reading this on my blog, to which you’ve either subscribed or linked via Twitter or FaceBook. We’ve already voluntarily given up so much of our privacy that the next steps suggested in the novel don’t seem at all outlandish. The technology is both conceivable and existent, for the most part. It’s just a question of organizing and harnessing the data, which is where The Circle comes in.

I’m not “slippery slope phobic,” although I recognize the theory. I think the argument is most often used to hang on to the past or to try to fend off an inevitable future. I tend to be a progressive and believe that change is not only inevitable, but that the pace of change will continue to accelerate. I also think that any lines drawn in the sand will be erased by the morning tide or next storm.

The Circle posits a social media company with the power to not only influence but control our lives. It’s definitely a cautionary tale worth considering. Still, I had to plow through it to the end, and it was heavy going. The true-believer protagonist (definitely no heroine) was neither likable nor sympathetic. I finished the book not because I cared what happened to her but because I wanted to see if the train would be derailed. 

Having spent time “camping” with the true believers I understand how momentum and inertia can take over so that you stop looking at anything except the gilded end-result. I probably steam-rolled my share of doubters, so convinced was I that my idealistic goals more than justified whatever collateral damage might have resulted. (This is quite possibly hyperbole, at least from my perspective; true believers tend to overestimate themselves, but also tend to ignore others’ pain.) I eventually evolved to consider other points of view.

The Circle is too frightening and too realistic to ignore. Whether that future can (or should) be avoided, whether it’s inevitable, those are important questions. I’ve written before about the downsides of secrets. Go ahead and discuss these issues among yourselves. I don’t know that you need this book to do it, though.