Happy International Women's Day!

This time last year, I thought privilege was just a car insurance company, then procrastination from final year exams drove me to take a dip in the world of feminist (and anti-racist, LGBTQ, anti-ableist, etc) blogs. 

A couple of years ago, I would have made rape jokes without qualms, never stopping to consider who might be listening and whether it would remind them of the worst experience of their life. 

5 years ago, I scoffed at the idea of doing a Feminist Politics module in my Government and Politics class ("I don't like feminists, they're so angry") and, sadly, I didn't get to take that module in the end for reasons beyond my own dickery.

7 years ago, I made the argument that - based on my own experience of failing to get a part time job in retail - the job market was skewed in favour of women.

10 years ago, I had a conversation with several other 12-year-olds in which we decided the best way to get a girl to like me was to insult her. coz gurlz lyk tht.

I mention these instances - not to point out how great I am for not thinking them anymore (though I love flattery as much as the next narcissist) - I mention these instances to demonstrate that I have been cluelessly wrong about so many ideas, and I am probably still wrong about dozens more; for some of these ideas it took years of debating and reasoning until someone made an especially good argument that flipped my perspective; for others it took a long break of simply not thinking about the ideas in question so that I could look again with fresh eyes a few months later; a few were simply sloughed away like old skin when I realised they were just as dead and useless.

The point of this post is for me to say, there is nothing... Erm, wrong... with being wrong - as long as you take the time and effort to challenge your own ideas regularly (and listen up when others are pointing out the errors in your reasoning); that's just how we grow as people. I still have reservations about some feminist ideas, maybe I'll look back at this post next year and shake my head at how I missed the blindingly obvious; or maybe the reservations will prove their worth by repeated challenge and I'll have to find some way to resolve things.

But either way, International Women's Day isn't about me, or any other man who knows he's been wrong - it's about the contribution of women to the world we live in, raising awareness of the plight of many women today, and taking the time to acknowledge those women who make a difference to us personally. As the UN theme of this year's International Women's Day is taking "action to end violence against women", I'm going to make a donation to Edinburgh Rape Crisis (you could do it too, here). And in the spirit of acknowledging the women who personally make a difference to my views, there is one last paragraph before I go to the pub with a friend who will be using her "female real ale fan credentials to celebrate International Women’s Day".

I am tremendously thankful to everyone in Edinburgh Uni FemSoc for forming an entertaining, education and pro-active space every Sunday evening. To all the feminist bloggers and writers who provide a stream of information and knowledge anywhere with a 3G connection. To my sister, Arianne, with whom ideas have been drunkenly bounced back and forth until we understood them. To Sarah, for being just as interested and enthusiastic. And to my mother, for being indescribably wonderful.

Fucking Bastard

"Swearing is a really important part of one's life. It would be impossible to imagine going through life without swearing and without enjoying swearing [...] The sort of twee person who thinks swearing is in any way a sign of a lack of education or a lack of verbal interest is just a fucking lunatic [...] they say 'it's not necessary'. As if that should stop one doing it! It's not necessary to have coloured socks, it's not necessary for this cushion to be here, but is anyone going to write in and say 'I was shocked to see that cushion there, it really wasn't necessary'? 

No, things not being necessary is what makes life interesting - the little extras in life."

Stephen Fry in Stephen Fry: Guilty on BBC4

When did you first learn to swear?

I use swear words with reckless abandon at times (I used to think that phrase was "reckless abaddon" because of a location in Diablo II), at other times I am selective. Often I am very worried about the implications of using certain words, particularly any words relating to sex for fear of breeding an anti-sex atmosphere e.g. if I say someone is a dick for doing something bad, I imply that dicks are bad (which they certainly are not), the same goes for pussy, twat, cock, arsehole, wanker and, of course, fuck.
As a cis male, I am especially concerned about the implication of using the cunt-word (this modified way of saying the c-word amuses me greatly but spits in the face of the concern I have) as well as the many names for lady-bits out there.
Wanker portrays someone who enjoys a bit of the ol' self love as somehow bad. Arsehole and ass suggest that there is something wrong with those potentially fun parts of the body. Slut, slag, whore and hoe (not that I would say hoe anyway) are linked with women who enjoy sex being wrong. Bastard implies that there is something wrong with being a bastard; yet, by some definitions, I myself am a bastard and there's nothing wrong with that. Even less "serious" swear words like bugger are connected to oppressive ideas of sex.
I don't want my language to promote homophobia, misogyny or puritan ideals of sex which leaves me with shit, crap and piss, and even these present problems for people who are into that kind of thing.


All of this is kind of off the point, I want to have a myriad swear words which don't have a nasty history full of negative connotations that could be socially damaging; I want to be able to use strong words that are meaningless but I expect that is impossible. To insult someone or something, or to add emphasis, there needs to be some meaning and history; this brownie isn't just good, it is fucking good; that guy isn't just mean, he's an arsehole. To really insult someone, or say something is great, meaning is important; that guy is a misogynist - now that has meaning and if it's true then it is a great insult (whilst I would be very insulted - or driven to question why - it wouldn't insult everyone) but it requires consideration and analysis that can't be dedicated to every encounter. Maybe this means I should avoid these swear words in negative contexts, or maybe I'm fine to use them provided I bear in mind the problems. I don't really know the answer.


Anyway, I've gone off the point again, my point was a memory of learning a couple of swear words...
I learnt the expression "fucking bastard" in the dining hall of Willow Farm Primary School. A boy told me the phrase, he was various things to me throughout primary school; a best friend, a worst bully, an expert manipulator (in my eyes), the reason I was scared enough to run home from school, the reason I played Final Fantasy VII, the reason I tried to enjoy McDonalds, the reason I am damned to the Hindu equivalent of hell (according to him) and in the end he was a powerful force for making me independent - I chose to spend the last 2 weeks (this was a big thing to me, at that age) of primary school with no friends instead of going back to that friendship group.


He was a false witness. He told my mum I'd called him gay when I'd done no such thing (the group had been calling me gay). My mother asked my what I thought that word meant, and I replied "It's when two men love each other" along with something about how I didn't think there was anything wrong with that (I honestly believed that and thus felt the whole situation was very unfair) and I hadn't said it anyway. That is the first time I remember her telling me that it was totally ok if I was gay and that my family would love me no matter what (or something to that effect).
I have just remembered something my parents would tell me when I was younger, if there were mean people who bullied me then they would not go far in life since people wouldn't give them chances and they wouldn't be happy as grown ups - that was what happened if you were mean to people. Whilst it obviously wasn't entirely true, I still liked to see the world in this somewhat Karmic way. I suppose I still do in some ways.


For many years after we parted, I wished suffering on him, I hated how he'd made me suffer and how he'd compounded my discomfort in social situations. I spent secondary school with his shadow in every social interaction I had, I also spent that time with the firm expectation that he was suffering for his cruelty.
I was a bit shocked when I got to college and he was a healthy functional person who shared some of my maths classes so I spent 2 years stoically avoiding eye-contact and outwardly ignoring his existence. I was resolved that if I saw him unconscious on a trainline, I would leave him there - I genuinely think I would have done.


Back when we were in school, he and his little sister used to come to our house as his parents finished work late so when my mum found out that he'd taught me the expression "fucking bastard", she was not impressed and asked him where he'd learnt it. He said, "It's what my mum calls my dad when they fight". It seemed that this was a regular occurrence and there were even hints of domestic abuse.
For all the years of suffering, for the unknowable psychological damage I may have suffered; he was, in many ways, just a product of his environment, as was I. I had the benefit of a loving, supportive family who rarely fought; I can't be sure how much of this he had, but I know he must have suffered. My worldview has changed in many ways in the 10 years since he was last able to bully me, I would certainly not leave a man who made mistakes as a child to die under a train but I also doubt I could make eye contact with him.

Oh Lord. Oh Lordy Lordly Lords.

"An influential member of parliament has not only to pay much money to become such, and to give time and labour, he has also to sacrifice his mind too - at least all the characteristic parts of it which is original and most his own."

Walter Bagehot

Many atheists and secularists do not think there should be bishops in the House of Lords; the idea that these "Lords Spiritual" get to vote on legislation which everyone then has to follow seems obscene. We are a secular nation, more or less, yet 26 Church of England Bishops get to sit there being all unelected and acting like they have some kind of revealed wisdom. This doesn't just seem odd from the perspective of a secularist, a Quake or a follower of Islam; it is also at odds with the view of UK Christians in general of whom only 12% believe that religion should have special influence in public life.


I disagree with this view of Bishops in the HoL, provided there are several hefty strings attached. Here is an over-simplified summary of what is required for legislation to become law; it must be drafted and passed in the House of Commons ("The First Chamber"), it must then be passed in the HoL ("The Second Chamber"); the HoL can suggest amendments and send it back to the HoC for these to be passed.


There is are plenty of problems with the HoC, two of which are important here; firstly, members of the HoC are forced to balance the long-term interests of the country with the interests of their voters and this means they will sometimes do the wrong think to please their voters (in the words of the great scholar Super Hans, "People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis. You can't trust people, Jeremy"); secondly, the members of the HoC are almost all professional politicians, whilst quite a few were once lawyers there is a shameful lack of scientists, engineers, healthcare professionals and other experts with the end result being that the HoC doesn't always know what's best for the country.


For the HoL to add anything to the system, it needs to combat these problems; currently, the Lords do not have any voters to please and they are not in real danger of being removed from their role allowing them to act for the long-term benefit of the country; additionally, many peers gain their role because they are specialists in a particular area and this means they can scrutinise bills that pass through.


Making the Lords elected would make the HoL a valueless copy of the HoC (there is the suggestion that a longer time between their elections would allow Lords to act more in the country's long term interest however that just seems to water down the previous problems) so here is my suggestion, we create a HoL that is dynamic, specialised and diverse. Currently, not all Lords vote on all issues, many Lords don't even show up so instead of allowing any Lord to sit and vote on any issue, we tag each Lord with areas of expertise in which they can speak, vote and otherwise pontificate. 


With this more dynamic, "mix-&-match" HoL we could increase their numbers allowing greater diversity and include individuals with expertise as well as individuals from various walks of life. By setting topics for Lords before they are appointed we can avoid anyone selecting favourable Lords to vote on a chosen issue; for those occasions where a Lord has expertise that isn't specified, the other Lords for that topic could vote to allow them to speak.


It would be no biggie to include lawyers to ensure law is written in a clear and unambiguous manner following this we can add scientists and statisticians to check for factual accuracy; philosophers (or logicians?) to check for logical consistency; even academics of social or political science to criticise the legislation. After all this scrutiny, the bill has to be approved by the HoC anyway so the democratic safeguard against some kind of totalitarian elitism is maintained.


Where do Bishops come into this? Whilst I don't think they have anything that could meaningfully be called expertise, they do represent the views of a meaningful number of citizens and therefore come under the various walks of life category along with Imams, Rabbis and (I'm being serious here) Jedi Masters. In this new HoL, religious representation is not that big of a deal so it gets to stay.

Something of a Lottery

"Isn't it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?"

Douglas Adams

This is a post about my father. This is not a emotional post, at least that's the plan. There are points when this post reads like he died - but don't worry - he is still alive and healthy, it's just the events I describe happened quite a while ago.
It is a post about something I didn't appreciate in my father until quite recently; that he gave my sister and me two really great pieces of advice over the years and I didn't notice how good they were at the time. (I hope) this advice has led to my sister and me developing Skeptical mindsets in which we were ready to challenge views of the world as informed by gut-feelings and tradition.


The first was given to me as he drove the two of us into Nottingham (northbound on the A612, to be shockingly precise); in a conversation about the lottery, I was saying something about having seen certain numbers around repeatedly and wanting to bet with those since I must be seeing them for a reason (I was too young to gamble but the lottery seems to hold an inexplicably innocent place in English culture). 
In fact, I even pointed out one of my numbers on a billboard at which point he told me that I was probably seeing these numbers more often because I was looking out for them. That's it. It might not seem like much but it bought a new idea into my consciousness that hadn't been there before. My perception of the world - and presumably, everyone else's - can change as a result of one's own biased perspective. I don't know whether he was aware of ideas like selection and confirmation bias (or whether they are the correct categorisations of my error) however I know this he planted the seeds of these concepts within my mind. I spent much of our shopping trip spotting numbers I hadn't considered "lucky" before then.


The second piece of advice was given to my sister, I don't know precisely where or when because I wasn't there; I wasn't even sure he held this perspective until I had pizza with my sister this evening and she mentioned it. When she was younger, my sister asked my father what "god" was, and why some people thought it was so important; his response "it's like grown up people believing in fairies". Fucking beautiful. Those words resonate deeply with me nowadays, they just scream to be linked with the quote from Douglas Adams at the start of this post.

As I said, I'm not sure when he gave that advice but I'd hazard a guess it was before a particular lunchtime which I was at but have no memory of. This lunchtime occurred when I was in pre-school (making me 4) and my sister was in the adjoining primary school (making her 8); this school was some combination of state-funded and (Christian) religiously-run and therefore we said prayers before our free school dinners.

It is at this moment in the story that I bristle with that mixture of pride and anger that always arises when someone weak and innocent - an 8-year-old girl - confronts someone powerful and cruel - the dinner-ladies and teachers.

My big sister told the dinner-ladies that she didn't want to say a prayer because she didn't believe in god. Evidently, they saw this meek objection with significant outrage; to them it must have been an utter scandal because they stood my sister up and they made her stand in front of all the other children in that large dining hall (plus things were waaay bigger at that age!) and they told the other children that this little girl didn't want to pray because she didn't believe in God. They stood her up there to shame her in public, in front of all her friends, because she didn't believe in fairies like these grown ups (I hope you are bristling too).

The story ends well enough without the need for fairy-intervention; there was no need for fairies because there were enraged parents ready to tear apart a cornered head master; humiliate our child will you?

The idea that attempts at humiliation are the right way to respond to someone with views that differ from your own is ancient and pervasive across all people I have seen or read about; I expect most thinking people would agree that it's not a good way to do things - even if we all do it unthinkingly now-and-again.

So there's two (among many) gifts my father has given us and I think that - after being an almost-constant presence in our lives (despite our parents divorce) with holidays and day-trips and games of footie - I think that they are some of the most valuable.

Consenting Lemons

 "No dogs were harmed in the filming of this episode. A cat got sick, and someone shot a duck. But that's it."

The Simpsons, Season 3, Episode 19, "Dog of Death"

I want to shop ethically; I want to live my life without harming the environment or exploiting others. This may be an admirable aim but the fact of the matter is that I simply don't have the time to research every purchase before I make it; I have a life to lead, revision to be doing and a blog to never update. I feel that when I buy a product, I should not just be paying to take it away but also to have the company, with it's wide resources, perform the ethical due diligence on my behalf. Sadly but predictably, this idea is not well placed in our capitalist system so I need another way to short the honest wheat from the sinister chaff.

This issue has been rattling around my consciousness for a while now, I purchased the Better World Shopper app to identify "good" companies and this has steered me away from a few unethical purchases as well as surprising me with a few genuinely decent companies that I always thought were just, well, companies. Sadly, "over 1000 companies" is not nearly enough, particularly not if those companies were selected for US consumers; I'm just not covered, how am I to know if my Pimms is topped up with Schweppes (drained from the veins of South American orphans) or Schweppes (massaged from consenting lemons by well-paid farmers with full health insurance), where for that matter do the Pimms, strawberries, oranges, lemons, cucumbers, mint (fucking mint, getting in the way of the deliciously marinated fruit) and apple come from?!

I had a minor mental battle with myself (both me and myself knew what the outcome would be but sometimes it's nice to pretend there are dilemmas in your life) when choosing between Ethletic Hi-tops or GODDAMN BATMAN Converse:

May have some child Sweat on them, from when they are handled in Shops.

The former won out and even if the renewable Amazonian tree rubber soles of my Ethletics have already worn out, the same can't be said for the non-renewable English neuro-rubber soul of my mind.

The issue has become yet more focused today as I was linked to an article about how evil iPhones are and whilst I'm sure this applies to most other tech, the words were particularly poignant as I read them on the small iPhone screen in front of me; the battery is damn-near fucked and it'll need replacing soon. The truth is, I've become so accustomed to the dissonance that arises when considering the source of tech components that I was genuinely surprised to be presented with an alternative; I'll certainly hang on to see if ADzero can live up to it's potential.


All of these examples may sometimes seem bleak, there may be no strong public or political will to change the situations, there may even be stigma for swimming against the tide; nonetheless, I feel optimism that things can get better through the little changes I make, along with influencing others to make those changes. 
One area where my confidence is low - along with my knowledge - is that of chemicals for scientific experiments, many chemicals must be mined and there is plenty of room for exploitation before anyone gets to transfect cell culture with the processed and purified product. As I research the area and my knowledge grows, I may rationalise my use of unethically-sourced chemicals as a necessary evil to reduce greater harms elsewhere - whilst this may be the case, it is a highly seductive idea and I should tread carefully.