climate change policy, science, and activism; photography; cartography and mapmaking
Normally, the Google Earth trick of taking altitude data from radar surveys and mapping aerial and satellite photographs on top has the neat effect of making the terrain look three dimensional. Sometimes, however, the radar map misses something and, when it draws the flat image onto the contoured terrain layer, you get a result like the one below:
There is a strong negative correlation between the number of people in the Cornmarket Starbucks and the number in the Codrington Library. Having spent much of the day reading in each, I can provide evidence that is this statement is true both for different times within a specific day and between days. Unfortunately, when the Codrington closed at 6:30pm, I was left with fewer choices. In the absence of an effective reading partner – who girds you to the task through social pressure – the location of an appropriate study space is crucial. Both together can lead to awesome bouts of productivity of the sort that make it just barely plausible that I got in here by a means other than computer or administrative error. The general absence of such explosions, this term at least, sometimes leads to my questioning the wisdom of that selection.
I’m still not sure how I feel about the whole constructivist argument. While much of it strikes me as likely to have more explanatory power than realism, theory in the abstract is an intractable thing. I think this is slightly akin to how tactics exist both as conceptual possibilities and actual things employed in battle. By the time they are used in the second way, they’ve lost a lot of the rigidity and theoretical elegance of their former role. They get muddy and smashed up. One sort might help you win the day and the other sort might not, but it’s only when they’ve been applied in such ruthless circumstances that you will ever know. Hopefully, we will eventually get to something like that point with these theoretical discussions. More likely, we will just keep sparring like armchair generals over the relative importance of infantry flanking operations and effective artillery placement.
For good or ill, my assessment of theorists frequently comes down to their basic ability to get an idea across. I remember explaining to Tristan my theory of what it takes to become a famous theorist: you need to have a concept that is novel and that can be explained by someone reasonably knowledgeable about it to someone intelligent but entirely ignorant of it. Moreover, this needs to be able to take place at a party of the kind I attend: ie, those quiet enough to allow a conversation to occur. This is a standard that really famous theorists will meet many times. There are a large number of ideas from Plato, or Hobbes, or Rousseau, or Marx, or Adam Smith, that can be explained under these circumstances.
The extension of this is that, in order to be a theorist whose ideas I am likely to seriously contemplate, you need to be able to lay them out cogently in a piece of writing that I am not overwhelmingly tempted to skim through at the end, or clean my room instead of reading. By such measures, Alexander Wendt succeeds. “Anarchy is What States Make of it” has a strong, comprehensible, and interesting argument. This is especially welcome given how incomprehensible the terminology of sociology can become. The fact that I only needed to teach my spell checker four or five words while taking notes on it is a point in favour of Wendt’s piece. Another good sign is that Wendt is generally better to quote directly than to paraphrase: something that is rarely true of academic writing, and certainly not true of Waltz – that great pillar around which the whole of IR theory seems to revolve, whether deservedly or not.
Wendt’s discussion of how a circumstance can be socially constructed but also not subject to change is very interesting. Perhaps that’s because it saves the appearances of the world as viewed by realists without being based on their ontological assumptions – always a neat trick. It’s also an effective response to the lingering doubt I feel about the explanatory power of such sociological viewpoints. If it’s all a muddy, mutually constitutive haze out there, how can we hope to understand it or do anything? If mutual constitution can produce circumstances that are strictly delineated and self-reinforcing, it seems that it is capable of conforming more closely to the often unbending character of world politics.
Housing trouble
A serious snag has arisen in the housing situation. Wadham College won’t let me give up my contract to live in Library Court until the 17th of June, unless I can find another Wadham student who wants the room. Finding someone who wants to live here for just one term seems as though it would be difficult to arrange, though it remains a possibility.
Another possibility is to find someone who wants to live in the new flat between April and June. I could then move in for the following year once my time in Wadham ends. This seems like it might be less difficult than the first option, since somebody from any college could take one of the rooms in the Church Walk flat.
Still further possibilities include having the other two intended residents simply find a different third roommate. It may be easier to do so for the year-and-a-bit period than for just a couple of months. Meanwhile, I would sort out some alternative accommodation. The final possibility would be for all three of us to search out a different place. This seems the least sensible alternative (provided nothing else comes up regarding the Church Walk flat), especially since all three of us would like to move there in April, if it was possible.
Perhaps I can convince Wadham to relent. Alternatively, perhaps I can find someone who wants to take over tenancy of 11 Library Court for a few months. The location is certainly excellent. Indeed, if anyone reading this is interested or knows someone who might be, please pass me the message.
As we were both experimenting with Google Earth tonight, Neal pointed out an area in Nevada to me. You can see the crater where an atomic bomb in the 100 kiloton range was tested:
Surrounding it are more test sites:
They sure felt the need to make sure these things would work:
It definitely makes you more certain that Eisenhower was on to something when he talked about a military-industrial complex in his farewell address:
In the words of Ike: “Every gun that is made every warship that is launched every rocket fired, signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed”
It really defies all belief, doesn’t it?
[Update: 5 November 2005] Here are some more of my posts on nuclear weapons.
Leaving the St. Cross bop relatively early last night was probably a good idea. I actually managed to get a respectable amount of work done today. I’d say that’s because of the combination of the dreary weather outside and the feeling of deadlines actually creeping up on me: weapons at the ready. While I’m not sure if this little pause was terribly well spent, it’s clear that it is coming to an end. Over the course of the day, I read Reus-Smit, Checkel, and lots of Wendt. If this week’s seminar doesn’t degenerate into another theoretical shouting match, I should be able to participate in the discussion.
General school stuff
Portions of two scholarship applications got finished this morning. So far, such efforts have not yielded the cost of postage expended so far in applying, but I am hopeful this tide can be turned. I also read up on British tenancy law, which seems to be reasonably straightforward, though somewhat different from its Canadian equivalent. We will need to pay attention to getting a good tenancy agreement for the flat we will hopefully be renting for the summer and next year.
I should probably volunteer to write a paper for Dr. Hurrell next week. I can write it on the constructivism question, on the basis of the readings and the core seminar discussion. That way, I won’t have two papers due in seventh week, when the second core seminar paper for this term is due. I can write that on the topic for the seventh week discussion.
Upcoming talk
There is a talk this coming Thursday that I will be attending and encourage anyone who is interested to attend as well:
“The impact and role of major international scientific assessments on global environmental governance”
Dr Robert Watson, Chief Scientist, The World Bank
Thursday 23rd Feb, 5.15pm
Martin Wood Lecture Theatre: adjacent to the Clarendon Laboratory on Parks Road at the corner with Keble Road.
Given that is is very closely related to my intended thesis topic, I will certainly be attending.
New Oxford Craigslist
Andy Kim, a member of my program, has apparantly brought about the creation of a Craigslist for Oxford. According to him, it is “for housing, selling things, and all sorts of other weird things that generally happen on craigslist. It has its pluses and minuses, but I think it generally makes for a better connected community. ” Oxfordians should consider having a look. There isn’t much there yet, but I am sure that will change with time.
It’s not a service I’ve used myself, but I remember that Zandara found her really cool flat in Vancouver through it, so it must have its uses.
According to Esther and Wikipedia, it seems that anyone who completes a BA or BFA at Oxford automatically gets a Master of Arts (MA) degree seven years after matriculating, for a nominal fee. According to Wikipedia: “Despite the fact that no greater academic achievement is involved, the MA remains the most important degree in Oxford.”
Since I won’t have done an undergraduate degree here, it seems as though I will never get one of these nominal MAs. As such, once I finish my degree I will have the 28th highest possible rank, and it will never increase. If I had done a BA here, seven years after matriculating I would have risen to the 12th highest rank (provided I went on to do an M.Phil), or the 18th highest, if I just left it at the BA. In either case, I would outrank: “Doctor of Medicine if not also a Master of Arts”
There are apparently 46 ranks of Oxford graduates, the top 18 of which can only be earned if you have one of these MAs, with the exceptions of Doctors of Divinity and Civil Law (not Medicine). Only those with this titular MA can become full members of the university. The highest Oxford academic rank: “Doctor of Divinity” and the lowest: “Bachelor of Education.”
Despite spending two years and an absurd amount of money, I will end up with a degree that is nominally less important than one you get automatically. Completely absurd.
Most of last night was a unpleasant mix of short nightmares and insomnia. Around 7:00am, I decided to give up on trying to sleep and just read The Economist. As a consequence, I felt exceptionally numb today: dulled in all senses and incapable of feeling anything completely. It’s odd to be able to pinch yourself and barely feel it, chew food and barely taste it. And this after a day when I consumed nothing caffeinated aside from a single cup of Earl Grey tea.
I spent much of today at the Oxford Country Library. It’s a place with much to recommend it. It’s close to Wadham, fairly large, and mundane in architecture. It’s the kind of place that exists at approximately the right level of distraction for reading to take place effectively. The Country Library also has dramatically better cell phone coverage than anywhere in Wadham.
Concentrating on readings that take the form of PDF files is especially difficult for me. Things on screen just don’t have the same impact or apparent importance as things on paper. That’s why I print off critical emails and occasionally especially poignant blog posts. Another factor is undoubtedly that PDF files must be read on a computer. Even if the computer in question lacks the infinite distraction of an internet connection, it will always have at least a text editor to draw one’s attention from the matter at hand.
As I am liable to do when feeling less than well, I bought a raft of healthy food today: fruit, three kinds of cous cous, nice olive oil, organic tofu, orange juice, whole wheat bread, and hot sauce. While the ginseng experiment seems to have had a negligible effect or none, the availability of quick to prepare healthy but tasty foods definitely increases both my productivity and happiness.
Musical recommendation
While reading this afternoon, I listened to Jason Mraz’s excellent album Live at Java Joe, one song of which Nick Ellan gave me about five years ago, when the album was released, the rest of which I acquired very recently. It’s both comic and melodic, extremely informal, and with a very authentic live feeling. “Zero Percent” and “Dream Life of Rand McNally” are especially good songs.
In the middle of the afternoon, I made a concerted effort to read the Heidegger paper that Tristan sent me a few weeks ago: The Question Concerning Technology. It was meant to be a contribution to my ‘discretionary reading on environmental politics related matter’ effort. I know it will annoy him to say that I found it mostly incomprehensible – in both approach and diction – but that is assuredly the fact of the matter. Heidegger goes on and on about Greek and the nature of silver chalices. While I am sure the example would be brilliantly illustrative if I had any idea of what he was talking about, it serves no purpose for me. It’s akin, I think, to someone who knows nothing about computers sitting down with a dense text on scripting and the UNIX command prompt.
Just as arcane knowledge of computers alienates you from everyone who does not have it – by stripping you of the ability to communicate as richly as you could if you were alike in ignorance – such knowledge leads to tremendous frustration whenever you deal with someone who has it in the opposite quantity. The computer geek is as frustrating and incomprehensible to the neophyte as the neophyte is to the geek. The knowledge that is a source of pride for the geek is often marked off as unnecessary to the neophyte, for whom it only serves an instrumental purpose: a purpose that can be achieved indirectly, by enlisting the aid of the geek. What enlisting the aid of philosophers means, exactly, I don’t know, but I consider much of philosophy to be marked off in the space of “information for others to deal with.”
This is not necessarily an embracing of ignorance, but perhaps more properly a response to the impossible vastness of knowledge and the sheer variety of dialects in which that knowledge is stored and discussed. It’s paradoxical, but ultimately obvious, that increased understanding of something can actually strip you of the ability to explain it or deal with people who don’t understand it. Attending lectures of someone who has colossal knowledge of a truly obscure field is among the best possible demonstrations of how knowledge is a cage.
Of course, when were talking about the physical sciences, there can be an external referent for expertise. I may not be able to understand what an engineer means when they talk about stress factors or the properties of metals, but I can see whether the bridge stays up or crashes down. Likewise, physicists and chemists can make predictions and develop technologies that demonstrate that their knowledge is – in some sense – correct. What comparable contribution can philosophers or, for that matter, international relations scholars make?
So much of what we do is like the nuances of a traditional Japanese tea ceremony: only those with considerable specific knowledge could ever know whether what was being performed was correct or merely a close approximation. No observer not steeped in the tradition could tell and, in a broad sense, the tradition itself is completely arbitrary. If we had all argued our way to some other equilibrium, it would serve exactly the same role as this one.
UK Pub Smoking Ban
The major reason for which I dislike spending time in most British pubs is apparently soon to be eliminated; I mean, of course, the carcinogenic clouds that seem to be a feature therein. It’s amazing, actually, that people persist in an activity that kills about half a million Americans every year, according to the Centres for Disease Control and World Health Organization. People should consider a pass-time that kills only a tiny fraction of that number: like serving in Iraq. Whatever enjoyment people derive from it, it clearly doesn’t make sense in cost-benefit terms. It demonstrates the extent to which the rational actor model fails in the face of various biochemical and sociological factors.
While my inclinations generally run in a libertarian direction, smoking is largely exempted from the categories of things legitimately subject only to personal choice. Especially in the case of commercial venues, smoking involves exposing other people – including employees who are there night by night – to the myriad dangers involved in the practice. From a personal perspective, it will make it more enjoyable to go to pubs – which is an activity with almost monolithic power, when it comes to the ways in which students relate socially in groups here.
In two words: I approve.
Olympic commentary
Mica informs me that Canada now has eleven Olympic medals. Well done, I say. That said, the only really intense Olympic experience I ever had was during my second year in Totem Park, where the whole undergraduate resident student body became caught up in Canada’s successful race for the men’s and women’s gold medals in hockey. I even watched the game between Belarus and unknown country X (where unknown country X is the one everyone expected to win) where the puck bounced off the goalie’s mask and into the net. Almost all of the time, sports are really boring. Sports and nationalism together: occasionally interesting.
In two words: why not?
Productivity, etc
I finished this week’s Economist today, as well as several of the readings on constructivism for next week’s core seminar. Medium-term projects now include:
Without a looming essay deadline to motivate, I will need to learn to focus energies on the basis of other kinds of deadlines. While it might require an enormous personal adjustment, it’s just the king of thing that’s necessary in order to exist as a crude proxy of the kind of ‘highly effective people’ whose habits are written about. Thankfully, since my habits are written about almost exclusively by me, nobody need know about the instances where I wander ever so slightly from the path of enlightenment through massive doses of academic prose.
In two words: read more!
Another round in an ancient battle played out today. I mean, of course, the battle that has raged over the length of my hair. There is a camp that encourages it to become ever-longer: a camp served by apathy and thrift on my part, but opposed by my will. Short hair is manageable hair, which does not become an embarrassment if briefly slept upon or subjected to a hat. The viability of the hat option makes temperature control more feasible. In short, the advantages of short hair are legion. Of course, the longer-hair crowd always wins out in the short term, as the stuff extends day by day. I always win in the medium term, once I muster the energy to blast it back. The first red line is when it becomes capable of touching my eyes; the second when it begins sticking out over my ears; and the third when it starts behaving unpredictably on the back and sides of my head. By then, it has become a dangerous snarling mass.
When you think about it, winning in the medium term is the best we can ever hope for as human beings. I’m now probably mostly made of Oxford tap water, where once I was made of Vancouver tap water. My ability to continue rebuilding myself out of water and digestive biscuits is ultimately capped by entropy: the central reason for which we are all doomed in the end. As such, it if in the 5 to 50 year time scale that we have the opportunity to snatch what victories we may from the jaws of irrelevance.
Speaking of medium-term victories, Kai and I may have found a suitable flat for next year. It’s located right near St. Antony’s, on Church Walk. It’s farther from Sainsbury’s and the centre of town, but about the same distance from the Department, and closer to Jericho and some nice commercial areas. It’s a basement suite, located underneath some kind of institute. As such, there will be nobody upstairs to bother us or be bothered evenings and weekends. It also includes a sizable back yard: almost as large as all of Library Court. We could definitely hold some nice garden parties there. The three bedrooms all have safety windows looking outside at ground level. (The third bedroom would be occupied by our silent partner.) The kitchen looks good and even the smallest of the bedrooms would more than adequately serve me.
At £85 a week for the two large bedrooms and £75 a week for the small converted living room, it seems quite pricey. That said, my termly battels in Wadham have exceeded £900 for each term and inter-term break period. Having a better kitchen would also encourage me to eat in more often, as well as affording me the chance to actually store prepared food. Those prices include power, water, and broadband internet access (obviously the most vital of the three). In short, the flat itself is very nice with advantages of location and design.
The biggest potential problem has to do with availability. The lease runs from September to September, which is standard, but the three current residents are all moving out in April. They are looking for someone to serve out the rest of their lease, then take one on for next year. My accommodation in Wadham runs until the 17th of July, but I am inquiring as to whether I could move out before the start of Trinity Term instead. Then, I could live in the new flat from the start of April until our exams end in July 2007, at which point we would presumably find people to play the same lease-finishing role as we would be playing from April to September of this year.
This will be the first time I’ve actually lived in accommodation that is private to this extent. I say ‘to this extent’ because the building does belong to St. Antony’s College and it would be through them that we would be letting it. Even so, it is much closer to private accommodation than Library Court, Fairview, or Totem Park have been.
I am excited about the prospect of living there.
PS. The haircut, which I got from the same place on the Cowley Road as the last one, is neither the best nor the worst I’ve received. The best was in Venice and now comprises the picture I show to barbers; the worst was in London, and I am sure it’s now part of my CIA dossier. This one is slightly worse than the last haircut I got in Oxford.
Happy Birthday Kate Dillon
Tomorrow’s qualitative methods lecture, to be given by Dr Sudhir Hazareesingh, is on the topic of “Bonapartism and popular political culture.” This sounds exceptionally esoteric, following four classes divided between the broad areas of Foreign Policy Analysis (woe to anyone who wrote the take-home exam on that topic) and Institutions. That said, holding “a general discussion about the role of myth in politics” sounds like a particularly interesting way to spend a couple of hours. It’s more in keeping with the kind of social and historical examination that Bryony and I were talking about yesterday.
The OED calls myth: “a popular conception of a person or thing which exaggerates or idealizes the truth.” I don’t know if that’s the most useful definition, largely because of the difficulty of accessing a ‘truth’ that exists independently or is particularly important. One of the examples given seems to illustrate this point:
Disraeli set himself to recreate a national political party out of the wreckage of Peel’s following. A new myth had to be evolved.
Without knowing anything about the situation being described, the dynamic can be recognized. The need to create a new story to replace or update an old one is a frequent and comprehensible thing. It’s part of what makes politics such a maddeningly difficult thing to deal with.
Myth – whether in the form of national foundational myths, justifications for state authority, or narratives about national history – seems to have played a fundamental role both in domestic political development and the development of the international system. The social role of myth, it seems, is to serve as a heuristic for justifying and understanding. Just think about Canada’s self-definition as the peacekeeping ‘helpful fixer’ or the American conception of being the ‘city on a hill.’ Neither has always reflected reality; it may be more useful to think about them as touchstones of national identity. That doesn’t mean they are always automatically accepted, but rather that they provide a data point that is always within the range of consideration. Myths provide a hook upon which other ideas can hang, as well as a barrier behind which complexity can be concealed.
Bloggers’ gathering reminder
To remind everyone, the second Oxford bloggers’ gathering is to take place next Tuesday at 8:00pm at The Turf. I hope I will get the chance to meet a few more of the people whose posts I have been reading.