“Just because you don’t know anybody from the right-hand side of the bell curve doesn’t mean they’re not there”
navigating the second Gilded Age through humor, invective and insight
“Just because you don’t know anybody from the right-hand side of the bell curve doesn’t mean they’re not there”
One of the weirdest – and least understandable – things about the “gender wars” is this:
Why the frack do the people who get their underwear in a bunch about gender identity care about it?
Are we trying to force the people who object to expanding the definition of gender to identify themselves in a new way, a way they don’t want to? Or in any way at all? No. They’re still free to check the box they’ve always checked.
Does someone assigning themselves a non-traditional gender harm these stalwart defenders of what they believe to be right and proper? Their feelings, maybe (in some cases, definitely).
But — stop me if I’m wrong here — having your feelings hurt occasionally isn’t damage. It’s part of being an adult in a diverse community. Not to mention the person being forced to identify themselves in what they believe to be an incorrect way could also claim damage under such a definition. What a mess that would be!
Do they think forcing someone to check a particular box on a form magically makes that person traditionally male or female? I wouldn’t think so. But then again, the rampant, demonstrated inability of Trumpanzees to think critically makes me wonder if they do, in fact, believe in magic.
I remember the first time I encountered a significant number of non-traditional gender people. It was in a disco in Cleveland my then girlfriend and I went to with her roommate1 As best we could tell we were the only straight couple in the place.
When I went to the bathroom, I ended up using the urinal next to a well-dressed “woman”. I recall “she” was quite good-looking…but I didn’t feel threatened by “her”.
A bit uncomfortable, sure, like I did on the dance floor with my girlfriend. But if you can’t tolerate a bit of discomfort in public from time to time, you’re leading a very sheltered, and limited, life. Fine for you if that’s how you want to live, of course.
But why take away someone else’s pursuit of happiness when you can just ignore what they’re doing? Particularly since they aren’t asking you to play a role in their life?
My podcast buddy Seth tells the story of how his young son, when gay marriage was being battled over in court, wondered if granting a man the right to marry another man meant he himself would have to marry a man when he grew up. Seth explained that it didn’t; he could marry whoever he wanted.
To which his son replied “Then I don’t get it. Why are people arguing?”
If an eight-year-old can figure it out, why can’t those nimrods who insist on limiting how others define themselves?
It was also the night my girlfriend learned her roommate was gay or bi. ↩
For many reasons, I will never forget Mr. Muchio, who taught me algebra in the 7th grade.
One of the biggest challenges in learning algebra isn’t the math itself. It’s learning how to parse descriptions into mathematical equations you can then use the rules of algebra to solve. It’s a process of abstraction, figuring out what are the essential details and what is “merely” descriptive and/or reflective of a particular situation. This is commonly known as learning to solve word problems.
We quickly became masters of this…or thought we had.
As Mr. Muchio pointedly kept reminding us, what we were actually doing was leaving stuff out to overly simplify the problem. I still remember his admonition, decades later: “You’re using a silly rule: ‘when in doubt, leave it out’. But it means the problem you solve isn’t the one you were supposed to solve. Be careful about what you leave out!”
Once upon a time I was chief financial officer of a startup biotech company. One day my boss, the CEO, and I were traveling back to meet with investors to pitch them on why they really wanted to keep buying our stock.
During the flight I reviewed the financial models and presentation I’d spent days creating. Somewhere over the Midwest I suddenly realized several of the key summary values, which were central to my analysis, had gotten hard-coded. They didn’t reflect the revised assumptions I’d made.
This meant my beautiful and compelling pitch was completely wrong. In fact, we didn’t look like such a good investment after all.
Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep that night. I had to revise everything.
Ever since, my Excel models are littered with “check figure” lines, that confirm totals are, in fact, reflective of the data they claim to summarize.
One of my earliest political memories was of Joe Namath, a very talented and famous quarterback in 1968, being asked who he thought should be our next President. I was 13 at the time.
I remember thinking “He’s a phenomenal quarterback. But why in the world would anyone think that’d make him an expert on national politics and the Presidential candidates?”
It takes a lot of time and effort — and focus — to become an expert in anything. Very few of us have the resources to do that in many different fields.
This spillover expertise effect really comes into play, at least in the United States, with business titans and governing.
Just because someone is successful in business, they don’t necessarily have a clue as to how to successfully lead a community in its pursuit of happiness and the greater good. Business, for all its challenges, is a much, much simpler environment to operate in than government. I know this from personal experience because I worked in each for 20 years, as a financial executive and as a local elected official.
In business, you succeed by focusing on making money while not breaking the rules. Or at least not breaking them too much.
In government, at least in a representative constitutional democracy, there is no single goal, and no marketplace in which to value tradeoffs from moment to moment. In fact, there’s often no market at all.
The Michelson–Morley experiment, which produced the data that overthrew Newtonian physics, was performed in 1887.
But it went unexplained until 1905, when Albert Einstein published the special theory of relativity.
What were the world’s physicists doing during those 18 years? Ignoring the data and hoping it would go away? Playing pinochle?
No, they were trying to jam the empirical data into Newtonian physics. Because that just had to be true! It’d successfully explained everything (well, almost everything) for centuries!
Once you accept the box you’re in, it’s damn hard to break out of it. Or even realize you’re in a box.
Ever wonder why research reports in Science, Nature, or any other scientific journal are terribly boring and hard to read?
It’s because the authors are required to disclose, fully, materials and methods, how they did their analysis, etc. They have to establish provenance, and reproducibility…both of which are key to critical thinking.
They only get to discuss what their results (might) mean in the last few bits.