Some Big Ideas for Little People

Downsizing

Scanning the reviews on IMdB one notices a wide-range of opinions from 1/10 to 10/10, which can be a sign that a film has - at least - potential. This is a film with potential but is definitely not for everyone. 

I had expected a more dystopian angle: the noble goal of saving the resources of the planet by reducing everyone down to roughly six inches tall is certainly a recipe for the powers that be to oppress by compression on a global scale. The political abuses are an important part of the story in the character of Ngoc Lan Tran (Hung Chau) who is shrunken against her will by the communists in Vietnam but the abuses are not a major part of the story.

The scenario is this: in the future scientists discover a way to reduce any organic matter to a fraction of its original size. The benefits for economizing on existing resources are terrific: one could make a saltine cracker last for months. The economics are also tantalizing. For Paul (Matt Damon) and Audrey (Kristen Wiig) they can get a dream home and comfortably retire at a small-person paradise called "Leisureland," just by selling their existing home. It sounds too good to be true, and when Paul opts to proceed with the shrinky-dink procedure, Audrey backs out without Paul's knowledge -- leaving him stuck without a spouse and stuck with a penurious divorce.

Paul finds himself working at a call center for Land's End and near the end of his rope in Leisureland without a whole lot of leisure. When things don't work out with a single mum, Paul reluctantly accepts an invitation from his playboy neighbor Dusan (Christoph Waltz) to let his hair down. This leads Paul to a night of excess and later meeting the aforementioned Ngoc Lan Tran who escaped Vietnam via a TV box but lost her foot. Paul finds himself commandeered by Tran who is a lady who will not take No for an answer: Paul is shanghaied to help Tran's dying room-mate and repair Tran's prosthesis which he breaks and finds himself working for her to pay off the debt. 

Dusan looks with pity at Paul's decline in fortunes and suggests Paul join him in a smuggling operation to the original tiny guy colony in Scandinavia. Tran insists that she join him. The northern Europeans have science on their side and have become convinced that THE END has come for planet Earth. They scurry down a rabbit hole and Paul is tempted to join them. However his affection for Tran overcomes his instinct for self-preservation. 

Dusan notes that the Swedes have been hollering about a global catastrophe for years and well, so far, so good! Paul returns with Tran and he spends his days helping the poor in Leisureland's ghetto. 

While the film is unsure which direction it wants to take (satire, social criticism, comedy, drama...), it ends on a very interesting note: the secular northern Europeans are sharply contrasted with the religiously inclined poor living in the shadows of prosperity. Paul's decision to stay with the poor despite the uncertainty suggests a subtle but powerful critique of the view that technology, science and consumerism can save us. In the words of Tran: See, Paul? Jesus smile for me. Indeed He does.

Read more: https://www.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/movie_script.php?movie=downsizing

Plots for and against America

Topical Review

Roth, Philip. The Plot Against America. Vintage International, 2004.

Roth's novel demonstrates the resiliency of the American republic and the inherent decency of "average" Americans, Gentile and Jew alike. It also raises troubling questions for what "best for America" means on the global stage. This tension between pragmatism and ideals is shot through the novel but it is also found in the appended 9/11 (1941!) speech by Charles Lindbergh to an a gathering of America-Firsters. Lindbergh notes that the push for war is backed by three groups: "the British, the Jewish and the Roosevelt administration" (Roth 386).  

At the level of facticity, Lindbergh's claim was certainly true: all three favored military action by the U.S. against the fascists. But it also true that it was deeply naive to think that the USA could be a kind of super-Switzerland that could avoid worldly entanglements outside our borders and shores.

Were the world compartmentalizable to the degree that the America-Firsters envisioned, Lindbergh's splendid isolation could make some sense (political, if not moral). But here Lindbergh suffered from a kind of temporary blindness: his underestimation of the totalitarian threat and its voracious appetite. It is now unimaginable to think that the Axis Powers would have simply stopped at a certain point and "left well enough alone." But Lindbergh's blindness was temporary: after the attack on Pearl Harbor he fully supported the war effort and actively trained pilots and personally participated in combat operations in the South Pacific.

When push came to shove, we could all be Americans: Jew and Gentile, Democrat and Republican, Catholic and Protestant. Yet it is by a slender thread that we have remained one. "Could," not "always will." There is no guarantee in the future that our better angels will succeed. Roth's book illustrates this truth in ways winsome and evocative. 

A Little Push...Military History

Door Number One or Door Number Two?

Frankly, I don't remember which door, but behind one of these years ago was Sherman Oaks Elementary's library. Sometimes I wonder where my fascination with military history came from. Some of it from my father who avidly read about aviation history (which lends itself directly to military history, too).

I recall going to the school library and wanting (really wanting) to read Guadalcanal Diary by Richard Tregaskis. I think the version we had had some pictures but the text was way too dense for my fourth or fifth grade self.

Our teacher gave us time to just browse the library. What a luxury and an education in itself.

A blog. A resting place for what's unfit to publish.

Denver Post? Not interested. Denver Catholic Register? Not interested. My blog? Well, of course I'll publish my own material.  This is a response to an article entitled "Discrimination is not Religious Liberty" and found in the Denver Post.

Editor, 

 Any time a privileged white male starts speaking for all women, I get suspicious.  Nathan Woodliff-Stanley knows what all women want and need: contraceptives, abortifacients and sterilization. He also knows who should pay for it: all Americans. He sees no problem with the State mandating the coverage of these newfangled drugs, devices and procedures in the name of “health.” 

 
My understanding of health is that it refers to the correct functioning of an organism. The Pill and sterilization -- chemically or surgically -- ensure that a woman’s body malfunctions. How is that healthy?  Heavens, Orwell would love this: Sterility Is Health.  Fertility is a sign that a woman is healthy. Any dumb white male ought to be able to figure that out.

 
We Catholics are not opposed to legitimate healthcare for all. What we are opposed to is the imposition of a degenerate sexual ethic on all Americans by the State in the name of health. The HHS mandate is no law, but a kind of bureaucratic violence. Years ago, Richard John Neuhaus wrote about a “Catholic moment” in American history; it appears we Catholics now have something even more interesting: our “Gandhi moment.” I pray we’re up to it.

Sometimes soundbites speak volumes...

I caught this on the radio (AM 710, KNUS), but I'll have to paraphrase it because I didn't write it down (nor could I find it on the station's website).

In an interview about a sexually explicit texting case at an area school, the principal said in response to a suggestion that students be barred from bringing cell phones to school, "We can't do that, cell phones are so much of their culture."

Ah, yes. The schools don't have a culture of their own to propose; rather, they are in perpetual retreat against the forces of barbarism. Yet another example of how schools simply react instead of acting.

A simple question: What is the purpose of education? If it is just to keep kids busy, well, then yes, the principal is correct: short of killing each other, let them do what they want. If, on the other hand, school is a place where cultural presuppositions can be challenged, then perhaps the cell phones can and should go. Placate or educate? The choice is ours.

One small step...

It's only what I can conceive of in terms of providence: the Denver Post published a guest commentary by me for their online edition. This is my attempt to articulate the logical connection between school funding and a meaningful education in 21st century America. The full article can be found via the above link.

The Hubris of Low Expectations

I recall a Catholic retreat I attended in the early '90s while attending Metro State. The theme was "Peace, Peanut Butter and Cooking with Jesus." I'm not even kidding. One can well imagine the content and spirit of such a retreat!

Nevertheless, the retreat was useful in this sense: I met two people who had a benevolent influence on me (Ann Brna and Mike McManus). The latter had this to say: God, we're surrounded by theological midgets! This brief aphorism captured my feelings perfectly. I remember it often when I think of education reform.

Generally one thinks of the hubristic in terms of over-reaching or some form of presumption in the extreme: Hitler waging war on two fronts, Gary Hart daring reporters to follow him around, Bernie Madoff creating his elaborate Ponzi scheme, etc.

But when it comes to public education, we seem to suffer from chronic under-reach: we have no vision but the technical and all of these various techniques (often manipulative of the students) are not related to any other greater meaning. I groan inwardly when I hear teachers emphasizing college for their charges. "Alas," methinks, "Do you think deferring questions of life's meaning is useful for anyone?"

Somewhere Scripture has it: My people die for lack of vision. There's the education crisis in a nutshell: not what and how, but why. Finding the missing why is the key to education reform.

"Honey, I shrunk the kids (and myself)!"

Teachers and parents (not to mention students) often deplore the increased use of standardized tests and assessments. That horse has been pulverized into subatomic particles, so I don't wish to dwell on stadardized tests, per se; rather, I'd like to briefly explore what existential or spiritual factors may lead to inordinate desire for "hard data" or "proof of learning."

In God at the Ritz, Lorenzo Albacete describes two elements of human work.

Human work has an "objective" and a "subjective" meaning. The objective meaning of work measures progress in terms of practical tasks accomplished. The subjective meaning of work measures preogress in terms of the fulfillment of the deepest needs of the human heart (140).

A moment's reflection will reveal that test-taking represents a desire to obtain an objective accounting of what a student knows and can be expected to accomplish in the future.

So far, so good: parents, employers, and indeed the student himself all have legitimate needs for this kind of knowledge. The danger is when the objective eclipses the subjective. In other words, when human desire and its fulfillment are marginalized or ignored, the result is alienation.

The student begins to reduce his conception of himself to what is needed to please others or to do "what's important" according to measure of those who hold power. Good grades are not nothing but they don't answer the question, "What, in the end, makes life worth living?"

The teacher too is put into an awkward position: When promotion and tenure are linked to student performance according to what is measurable (and only to what is measureable), a "reasonable" (if amoral) teacher will focus on teaching those knowledge, skills and abilities that are testable -- to the detriment of the immeasurable.

Each of us knows from real life that the immeasurable, is, well, immeasureable. The most important things in life are non-quantifiable: affection, self-giving, generosity, etc.

Question: Where are those places where human flourishing is encouraged?

Education, Institutions and Accountability (Part I)

Earlier this week there was a horrid article by Susan Greene in the Denver Post entitled "Who would Jesus fire?" that lamented the firing of a Director of Religious Education at a Catholic parish because of her sexual immorality - oops, I mean her "preference." Ms. Greene was mortified that a church and pastor would actually expect a staff member to practice what she (allegedly) teaches, namely, such things as the sacrament of marriage and lacking that, sexual continence.

This article did get me thinking about what it is that secular institutions such as public schools and universities do stand for. Is there anything beyond competence in subject matter? I think there is very little that would get one censured or remove from a post unless the activity were illegal. That's a fascinating thing, really: secular has come to mean all is permitted unless it is illegal. Thus, in theory, if bigamy were legalized (and with the push for gay marriage, it is difficult to find grounds to argue against bigamy), the bigamist would have as much job security tenure as anyone else.

Beyond these moral questions, the deeper question is, "What do institutions of learning stand for?" Hmm.

For the Sake of the Children

Hearing this phrase is also grounds for reaching for the proverbial Luger or perhaps a reason for paying close attention to what the speaker says next.

On talk radio and during an interview
A local radio station (KHOW) has a show called "Caplis and Silverman" co-hosted by Dan Caplis and Craig Silverman; they are a great pair - far more interesting than, say, Hannity and Colmes were. Last week they were discussing a sick out by Boulder Valley teachers. Caplis was suggesting that everyone should agree to do "what is best for the children." Hmm, sounds good. But so does "pro-choice" unless you think deeply about what is being chosen. Yet unlike the "pro-choice" mantra, "for the children" is far more ambiguous.

Short term or long term?
In my experience, "what is good for the children" is sometimes proposed without reference to what is good for teachers. I've heard administrators say such things as "this isn't about teacher comfort, but what's good for the students" in reference to an inane and insane requirement that teachers call each student's home at least once per week. This was at a charter school where the parents were predominately Spanish-speakers. Call 120 homes in a language I don't speak; this benefits whom, how exactly?

On the "Caplis and Silverman Show," Dan Caplis was suggesting that teachers should always do what is best for the students, not themselves. (Not to get Kantian here, but does Mr. Caplis in his law practice do what is best for his clients without reference to himself - does he routinely foreswear compensation?) Implicit in this naive remark are at least two facts:

1. What is "best" for the children is rarely univocal.
Is it always best that teachers stay on the job and never strike? Well, that would depend on the rationale for the strike. Teachers might be striking because of bad adminstrative policies that "dumb down" the curriculum or teachers might be asking for an unreasonable pay raise; in the former case one would say, "strike," in the latter, don't.
Is a longer school day always best for the children? It depends on how the time is spent and what provision is made for teachers having adequate leisure [I find it interesting that the only people I hear say how "easy" teaching is, are either (a) incompetent teachers or (b) more likely, those who don't teach]. I met a guy recently who was fired from a charter school chain because he suggested that teachers have more time to meet together and fewer contact hours with students. In other words, because he was concerned about an "assembly line" approach to teaching, he was deemed to not be a "team player" (even as he was asking for more time for "the team" to coordinate their activities!)

2. What is bad for teachers is also bad for students.
Suppose you have a cadre of teachers that always believes a principal when he says, "This is good for the kids, so we're going to do it," and these teachers nod their heads in assent. If the administrator is wise, benevloent and saintly, then, well, perhaps all of these good things shower upon teachers and students alike. If however one lives on this planet, we would soon find out that "what is good for the children" (for now we'll assume that these are actually good things) -- things such as longer school days, more instructional time, and more lively instruction -- these things have a price that teachers must pay. Let's take them in order with the assumption that there are no changes in staffing:

A. A longer school day. This means that either teachers make their families and friends suffer by cloistering themselves away and continuing to grade papers long into the night and skip time with the family or these teachers, say, "Screw it, I used to ask for essays, but now I don't have time to grade them, so I'll start handing out multiple choice quizzes" or some other time saving measure. In the long term, students pay the price.

B. More instructional time or "contact hours."
Teachers teach more but they might also communicate less. A great booklet I recently read was Julian Carron's "Educating: That is, a Communication of Yourself." Carron makes it very clear that the most important thing a teacher communicates is not content per se, but how the teacher views all of reality. This is not pie-in-the-sky, but quite concrete. More contact hours may translate into uninspired teacher, which helps no one.

C. More interesting or lively instruction.
This one kills me: the vision of the teacher as entertainer and the assumption that students should be distracted into learning. In any event, where does the time for creativity come from? It has been taken away. If the teacher does make instruction more entertaining, it will in fact be less interesting; bells and whistles will have replaced curiosity and wonder.

Abstractions are useless
What I love about teaching is that reality is unavoidable. My students challenge me to ask daily why I do what I do (and if, in fact, it is worth doing!); I cannot just fall back into some ideology to explain reality: they won't let me.

Those who use ideological phrases like "it's for the children" aren't working with the children (even if there is a classroom of kids in front of them); they are working with abstractions. In The Schools We Need and Why We Don't Have Them, E.D. Hirsch has a great glossary of terms and he shows how eduspeak is a dodge from thought. Let's add "for the children" to the list.