FACTS DO NOT NEED TO BE OFFICIAL; THERE ARE NO "REAL FACTS"

OESTERHOUDT STRIKES

I went to Starbucks this morning to buy a coffee. I wasn't really thinking about anything. I was groggy and I was battling a cold. But as I waited for the barista to serve up my venti bold, I overheard the man behind the espresso machine say to his coworkers: "Wikipedia is written by us. Those aren't real facts."

My mind immediately sprang into action. I really did not care about the man's opinion about Wikipedia. Everyone knows that you need to read Wikipedia with a grain of salt. Its reporting can be unreliable, just like any other source. But I took serious issue with his assertion that Wikipedia does not contain "real facts" because "people like us" write it, as if "regular people" are incapable of reporting "real facts."

I was saddened for two reasons. First, the barista's comment revealed the widespread--and servile--public belief that "facts" must flow from certain "official" sources. Second, it revealed the belief that "regular people" do not deserve credibility when they report "facts."

Let us begin with "facts." More than a year ago, I struggled to formulate a workable definition for "facts." Everyone thinks they know what "facts" are. They think "facts" are "things that actually happened." But it is impossible to really know whether something "actually happened" if you were not there to perceive it. Everyone else must rely on second-hand reports to form an opinion about "what actually happened;" and that opinion may not reflect what "actually happened" at all. Facts intertwine with belief; a person calls something "a fact" as long as he subjectively believes it to be true, even if it is not. A person's belief, too, is a "fact." It is a "fact" to say: "John believes that Mary robbed her mother." It is not necessarily true that Mary robbed her mother. But if John believes it, John's belief about it is "a fact."

Viewing all human existence as a whole, most "facts" are incredibly banal. It is a "fact" that I just moved my eyelid and that I just pursed my lips: I perceived these "acts" through my visual and tactile senses, so they are facts. Facts are rarely newsworthy, and almost never "the stuff of history." Yet many people mistakenly believe that "facts" must be "official." Like the barista, they believe that something is not a "fact" unless some reputable source reports it. To use the barista's term, only certain sources can present "real facts," not plebeian sources like Wikipedia.

What is a "real fact?" How does a "real fact" differ from any other fact? After all, a "fact" is any event, act or condition that is objectively verifiable and perceptible by the human senses. Your own emotional state is a "fact" at this very moment. Whether you're wearing blue jeans right now is a "fact." These are "conditions" and "acts" perceptible by human sense. The New York Times will never report these "facts," but they are still facts. Anyone can recount facts. As human beings, we all can recount our sensory impressions through memory and language. Put simply, the power to recount facts does not require a reputable press pass or an advanced degree.

Facts do not distinguish. There are only "real facts" to the extent that another person chooses to believe them. Source is irrelevant to the inquiry whether something is a fact. Source is only relevant to the question whether a reported fact is credible or reliable.

But the barista confused theses issues in a deeply troubling way. He not only manifested a belief that certain sources were not reliable. He also revealed a belief that certain sources cannot even report "facts" at all. According to the barista's logic, only reputable sources dispense "real facts." Sources like Wikipedia do not. Yet this is pure nonsense. Wikipedia definitely reports "facts." It reports "acts, events and conditions that are objectively verifiable and perceptible by the human senses." True, its reports might contain inaccuracies and falsehoods. But that is a danger inherent in all reporting. And in the end, "facts" are not about "what actually happened," but rather about "what we are willing to believe." Both Wikipedia and the New York Times face the same "factual" dangers every day when they report on matters that occurred beyond their writers' own sensory range. Both Wikipedia and the New York Times ask their readers to believe their words to be facts, no more. In that sense, they are exactly the same.

It is dangerous to believe that only certain sources have the power to dispense "facts." When people believe that only certain "official" reports deserve credibility as "facts," they disempower themselves. They yield their power to judge the truth for themselves by conditioning their belief systems on "official sources." The barista's comment revealed this servile dynamic at work. He demeaned Wikipedia because "regular people" write it, not "official sources." As such, he refused to even believe that it reported a single "real fact," as if any fact were more real than another.

Worse, the barista tacitly acknowledged his inferior station in our society's truth-creating hierarchy. Our society perpetuates the notion that truth can only proceed from certain "official" sources, like news agencies, universities, government offices, courts, churches and science labs. While those sources might deserve credibility in particular circumstances, the ultimate decision whether to believe something is entirely individual. And when people do not do their own research by investigating as many sources as possible, they subject themselves to dominant power systems. They accept some reports as "fact" solely because they flow from some exalted source, not because they verified the reports themselves.

We all can perceive the outside world. We know facts because we perceive them. We can report what we know. When we are honest, we know our word is the truth, even if we are not an "official source." We might even write an article about our knowledge in Wikipedia or some other popular publication.

Yet according to the barista's logic, we do not deserve belief. More substantially, we are not even recounting "real facts," even if we saw them with our own eyes. Only "official sources" can dispense "real facts," not regular people. That is not just weak. That is outright capitulation.

I wish more people would understand that we all can report facts as long as we can perceive and communicate. All facts are "real" as long as we believe them. And we do not have to be news agencies to deserve belief.

BUSY WEEK AHEAD

It looks like next week will be quite busy for me. I have a ton of appointments. They are going to rob my mornings. I'm not looking forward to it, but at least I can anticipate it.

I always put undue stress on myself when I expect myself to generate a post every weekday. But if I explicitly "excuse" myself from writing for particular reasons, I somehow feel better about missing a few days. So I'm going to do that today: Next week, I likely will not have time to write effectively every day. If you don't see a new post each day next week, you know the reason.

Still, I am not tired at all. My inspiration level is as high as ever. I constantly get new ideas. Life is interesting and fresh. It's just that a whole crosscurrent of banal crap converged in one week; and I know it's going to keep me from writing.

There you have it. Thanks so much for reading my posts. And remember to always check the archives or--if you're feeling adventurous--try a word search. I always amuse myself by typing in certain concepts in the dialog. It reminds me how much stuff I've written about so many different subjects. It makes me proud, actually. I have a complete record about my beliefs on every issue that matters in my life. And it will last beyond my years!

Oesterhoudt

LIFE IS NOT RATED PG-13

OESTERHOUDT STRIKES

Movie ratings amuse me. Whenever I see a movie poster, I always look at the rating box. In the old days, the rating box was simple: It just listed the rating (G, PG, PG-13, R or X), plus the general description for the rating. For G, it said "General Audiences." For R, it said "Restricted Audiences."

Now the rating box is a little more complicated. It still gives the rating and the general description. But it also gives "reasons" why the movie earned its rating. For example, it might say the movie is rated "R" because it contains "Nudity, Some Sexual Content and Drug Use." Or it may say the movie is rated "PG-13" for "Some Language, Adult Situations and Scary Images."

I know why there is a rating system. The Motion Picture Association of America started the system in order to help parents decide whether they should take their children to the movies. If a parent sees "R" at the bottom of a movie poster, then he or she would know not to take 6-year-old Johnny to see it.

But the rating system does more than "protect children from unsuitable content." I have written that it can also perform a political function by limiting access to a film if the "raters" do not like its message. An "R" rating, for instance, substantially reduces a film's potential audience by reducing the number of theaters that will show it. That, in turn, makes it more difficult for a film to reach a broad audience. In sum, raters can influence an artwork's communicative outreach by tacking on harsher ratings, even when they are not really warranted.

And who are these raters? What criteria move them? Put simply, they are private Americans with relatively little tolerance for "unconventional" ideas, language, themes, images or messages. They also have a very squeamish moral sense. Sex and nudity put them off more than violence. Breasts are more threatening than explosions and killing. If a movie even remotely strays into "controversial" ground, they will rate it "R." A straight make-out scene might only generate "PG-13." But a gay one would definitely yield an "R;" or maybe even "NC-17" if it is graphic enough. And if you dare to use the word "fuck" once in your movie: Forget it; that's an "R" for you. Hey, you could always opt for "fudge" to save your
box office.

What explains this hypersensitivity? Is it really all about the children? Why should movies that deal with "real-life things" earn harsher ratings than meaningless fluff?

Consider this: I recently saw a movie poster with a "PG-13" rating because it contained "Some Smoking." Say what? Smoking? Since when did smoking become a taboo subject? Do we really believe that our children will turn into criminals because they see someone smoking a cigarette onscreen?

I mention this for three reasons. First, I do not like the moral hypersensitivity in the movie rating system. Second, it is just not possible to shield children from every single allegedly "bad" thing in life. Third, there is little correspondence between what happens in movies and what happens in actual human experience.

Children see smoking all the time. They do not need to be 13 to know that people smoke. In fact, if their parents smoke, they probably have known about smoking since the moment they could form memories. Even if their parents don't smoke, it does not take long to see someone else smoking outside. Smoking is everywhere. Sure, it's not good for your health. But it's part of life. There's no sense morally rebuking a movie simply because it shows something that millions of people do every single day. And there's even less sense in attempting to prevent children from learning about it: Chances are they already know.

There is so much about movies that is totally unrealistic, even in movies that claim to portray reality. Movies are a fascinating medium because they lead viewers into a dimension that closely resembles reality. Yet on reflection, it is clear that they are not real--not even close. Life does not have snappy dialogue, segue cutscenes or a melodramatic soundtrack. It does not have a set run-time, either. Put simply, there is a wide range of human experience that will never appear on a movie screen. And even the most banal things--like going to the bathroom or sexuality--often earn harsh scolding from the raters.

We do and say things every day in our lives that would lead to an "R" rating or worse. Just getting undressed to get in the shower pushes us into "NC-17" territory. The human body, in other words, is a taboo subject. And movies are supposed to represent reality? How could they when they don't even show the most basic things that people do and say every day?

Movies are artificial. They do not represent reality. In that light, it is foolish to rely on them to form impressions about life because there is so much about life that they never portray.

Movie ratings are artificial, too. If anything, they simply measure the moral qualms of a few squeamish Americans. It is too bad that the raters have such a strong influence on what millions of people see on movie screens.

All I know is that my own life is not even close to PG-13. It's been NC-17 since before I could even talk. If you've ever been naked in your life, you're rated "R" at least.

Movies might spare the faint of heart. But life doesn't. This shit is rough.

WHAT WOULD YOU DO FOR $40,000? THE PRICE OF BELIEF

AN ESSAY

Sometimes I wish I weren't so cynical. Cynicism is my life philosophy. Although it almost invariably leads me to the truth, I don't really like it. Although it has predicted the future for me more than once, I wish it hadn't. After all, cynicism assumes that everyone has selfish motives and will ultimately take action to satisfy their own interests. That is a pretty bleak view. Yet in our obligation-filled commercial world, it is a consummately realistic one.

I wish I weren't so cynical because I want to believe that everyone does not have a price. Whenever I think about cynicism, I inevitably struggle with principles. After all, a principle stands at odds with expediency. Self-interested people are always "expedient" when it is necessary to fulfill their aims. Principles, by contrast, are inflexible; they do not bend to expediency. Yet all too often in history we hear about "principled" men who stood up for larger ideas to a point, then caved in order to enrich themselves. In other words, every man--and every principle--has a price. The question is merely how much money it takes to convince a man to abandon what he believes.

As a cynic, I find it almost axiomatic that men sell their principles for the "right price." If human beings truly have innately selfish motivations and act ultimately to satisfy their own interests, then no larger idea could ever induce them to ignore themselves. It is natural to expect men to sell out or betray their beliefs when enough gold appears on the table. Although popular mythology teaches us to revile men who do this (the Judas story is the classic Biblical example), we are never surprised when it happens. We live in a difficult world. No one wants to go hungry or die. If it came between adhering to principle and eating, how can we blame a man for simply "betraying what he believes?" It is easier to revile a man who sells out simply to profit. But sometimes men sell their beliefs just to eat or sleep--or to save their families.

Yet we admire men who refuse to compromise their principles for a price. We admire them precisely because they are so rare. Again, cynicism provides a good way to understand why we deify "martyrs" like Jesus Christ and Saint Thomas More. Both men died because they refused to abandon their principles despite pressure. Both had opportunities to take payment and shut up. Both knew they would die for refusing to renounce their beliefs. And they still refused.

From a cynical perspective, we assume that men will always sacrifice their principles for personal gain or to save themselves. Overwhelmingly in human experience, that is what happens. But when it does not happen, we immortalize the person who resisted the impulse to be selfish. Put another way, when a person defies the cynical expectation to act only for himself, he becomes a saint-like figure--or a saint outright. This is what happens when men adhere to their principles. It leads to eternal honor. And that explains why both saints and honor are rare. Everyone has a price: But those who don't become legends.

But I'm not writing about legends today. I'm writing about everyone else who does have a price. And while it might be pathetic to have a price, I argue that it is completely forgivable.

Why is it forgivable to be a dishonorable person who abandons principle whenever profit beckons? It is forgivable because we inhabit a world that expects us to value profit more than honor. No one pays our way in this life. We learn early that we must make our way through the commercial thicket by any means necessary. Without money, we are finished. We can't pay our rent, we can't feed our children and we can't eat. We spend our lives struggling to find ways that yield money; and we never get enough. We learn that profit is good because profit protects us from hardship. When we profit, we stave off bill collectors, bankers and landlords. We feed our children. We increase our comfort and avoid worry. We stay warm. By eliminating a key source for worry, we actually gain the capacity to enjoy ourselves--at least in theory. We are only human; we have bodies. Profit protects our bodies from ruin. If it comes between preserving our bodies from ruin and adhering to a principle that could cost us our bodily comfort, the natural human response is to preserve our bodies.

Only saints spite their bodies for their beliefs. For everyone else, a price will suffice to buy belief.

Some people require less enticement than others. Potential profits not only dissuade men from adhering to principle. They also encourage men to brutalize their fellow man. Profit underlies criminal motivations crime as well as dishonorable ones. In the movie Fargo, for example, two ex-cons agree to kidnap a man's wife for $40,000. Various difficulties intervene and they murder three people in the process. Due to these "unforeseen complications," they demand $80,000 rather than $40,000. Before the drama ends, another two people die and no one makes a dime. The detective who arrests the killer--exceptionally played by Frances McDormand--then says: "All that for a little bit of money. There's more to life than a little bit of money, you know."

That may be so. But money motivates just about everything that people do, even murder. Contract killings have price. Lives--like everything else in the free market-- have a price, too. How much does it take to encourage someone to kill another? Is $40,000 too much? Some people in American society make $40,000 a year; others make it in one day. How about $10,000? $1,000?

This might all seem macabre. Still, the fact remains that potential profits bring out the worst in people. As bad as that is, however, I still think there is a good explanation for it: People in our society learn to be desperate for profit. Without it, they think they will come to ruin. So for those closer to ruin, there is a greater motivation to do unspeakable things for relatively little money. There might be more to life than money. But try telling that to those who don't have much. They are willing to do just about anything for what seems a pittance to others.

How much potential profit would it take to convince the average person to commit murder? How about lying? How about sacrificing integrity or honor? How about acting in a way that clashes with one's conscience? What if a job requires a person to violate his conscience, but if he loses the job, he loses his livelihood? How much does a conscience cost?

Against this background, can anyone resist a sufficient price? Is anyone noble enough to ignore themselves? That's my real question. All I can say is this: Cynicism tells me, as a general matter, that people can be bought. But there are a few extremely rare cases in which they cannot. I find this sad because it really does not take much for a stronger person to cast aside a weaker person's beliefs. Beliefs and conscience are individual. They are subjective. They belong to the person who holds them and no other. If a "little bit of money" is all it takes to sweep them away, what does that say about the value of individuality in our society? Where are the courageous people? Where are the people who will not abandon their beliefs for a price?

All I know is that they are not in the United States Congress.

BEATING ROBBERS : HOW TO KEEP YOURSELF AND YOUR PROPERTY SAFE FROM VIOLENT CRIME

CRIME WATCH

By : Mr. G. Chadwick Klauenberg, Esq., J.D. (University of Pennsylvania Law School 1980), Former Chief of Police, East Orange, New Jersey (1985-2005); Published Author, Can’t Thug This : Hoodlum Management in 21st Century Urban America (New York Times Bestseller List), a Best-Selling Self-Defense Handbook; Amateur Chef; Property Owner (residence and beachfront properties).

We live in a violent society. For those who inhabit cities in the United States, crime is a very real danger. Murderous gangs roam the streets. Discharged and undiagnosed psychiatric patients threaten to push innocent commuters before onrushing subway trains. Con artists defraud hard-working men and women with fanciful yarns. And thousands of petty thieves mill through the streets every day, picking pockets, stealing, looting, robbing and swindling.

It is essential to know how to deal with crime. But today I do not write to call for greater enforcement against criminals. I leave that to legislators and executive officials in State government. Rather, today I write in order to inform the public about an important skill: How to keep yourself and your property safe from violent crime. Today, we are not talking about theories and abstractions. We are talking about real-life, practical skills that will prevent you from being the next police statistic.

Let’s face it: Many criminals want your property. They want your wallet, your watch, your Gucci handbag, your billfold, your cash, your family amulet, your car and even your furniture. Criminals are not like you or me. They do not work, make money, pay taxes and buy things at Wal-Mart®. No, they have separated themselves from society. Unlike us, they acquire money and property by violence, scheme and coercion. Everybody wants property in our society. Yet there is a legal way to do it. Criminals don’t follow the legal way.

It is illegal to steal and rob. As law-abiding citizens, we find it appalling that some people commit violence in order to obtain property. But that does not alter the fact that many people do it. For that reason, we must be prepared to deal with robbers and thieves. They are out there. They see our property. They want it. And they are ready to hurt us to take it from us. Put simply, we must be on our guard.

I have written many articles about self-defense and practical crime prevention. I always take a practical approach. I do not try to explain social trends and the reasons “why” criminals become criminals. I do not rationalize criminal behavior, nor do I make excuses for criminals, like blaming bad schools, bad parenting and poverty. Rather, I try to keep law-abiding citizens—like you—safe from hooligans. It does not help a robbery victim to understand why her assailant is a hooligan; it helps to prevent the hooligan from attacking in the first place. Hooligans are hooligans. In my book, that fact doesn’t change. And it makes no sense to debate it.

Let’s talk robbery. We must always fear robbers. They lurk everywhere. At this very moment, some thug may be sitting in a car outside your townhouse, observing your daily routine. He may be looking at your clothes, your briefcase and even the grocery bags you carry on the way home from work every night at 9 PM. He may be looking at your house and guessing that you have quite a lot of property. He may be plotting the right moment to ambush you and take your wallet. Put simply, robbers are everywhere. As long as you have property, robbers will try to take it from you.

I was a police chief for 20 years. Before that, I went to law school. From both a legal and law enforcement perspective, I know a thing or two about robbers. My knowledge can help you avert robbery. Robbery has a legal definition. In the law, behavior either fits the definition or it doesn’t. You can legally avoid robbery if you know what robbery actually means. When you understand what robbery actually is, you can take steps to make it impossible for a criminal to rob you.

At common law and in most State law, robbery is “the taking of personal property from a person by force or fear.” That means a person can rob you with a toy gun because he creates “fear” in order to take your personal property. It also means no one can rob your house, or your tree, or even apples from your tree, because those things are “real property,” not “personal property.” “Personal property” is “anything that is movable,” like a watch, a wallet, a pocket-knife, a painting or a jar. Apples are movable, too, but they are an exception to the rule because they come from trees, which are not “personal property.” There has also been some debate whether a mobile home is “personal property.” But let’s not get too philosophical; in most cases, a robber doesn’t want your trailer or your apple orchard.

No matter the circumstances, robbery cannot occur without “property.” A criminal cannot legally commit robbery without “taking property.” From a practical perspective, this means you can completely avoid robbery by refusing to carry, own or otherwise lay claim to property. Consider this: If you own nothing and go about naked on the street, you cannot be robbed. Legally, no criminal can rob you if you are naked, penniless and possess nothing. Now, if you were naked and had a rope around your neck, a criminal could rob you by threatening to kill you unless you gave him the rope. But again, you can avoid that situation by simply owning or possessing nothing at all, not even a rope. Property is the key to robbery. Without property, you cannot be robbed. Thus, refusing to own or possess anything is the best defense against robbery.

Other crime prevention advocates recommend lesser measures to prevent robbery. They offer advice such as “don’t go out by yourself;” “watch your belongings;” “stay away from bad neighborhoods;” and “don’t show off expensive goods.” Yet these are half-measures. They do not make it legally impossible to suffer robbery. Rather, they still allow robbers an opportunity to commit robbery. If you “don’t go out by yourself,” yet still own property, a criminal can rob you because there is property available to “take by force or fear.” Similarly, even if you don’t “show off expensive goods,” a criminal can still rob you because you have “expensive goods” (which are “personal property”) to take “by force or fear.” It doesn’t matter whether you conceal it; if you have it, someone can take it. In sum, then, these measures may reduce the chance that you will suffer robbery. But they do not render robbery legally impossible.

Wouldn’t you rather make it impossible for a criminal to rob you? A 0% chance of robbery is preferable to a 10% chance. The only sure way to make robbery legally impossible is to stop owning or possessing property. No matter how much you conceal or protect your property, a determined robber always has something to “take by force or fear.” But if you are naked, broke and destitute, you have nothing that can be robbed. The minute you obtain property you are subject to robbery. Why increase your risk? Just don’t own anything; it will render robbery a hollow threat.

Law teaches us many things. Many people think that the law does not provide practical solutions to real problems. But here we see that the law allows us to effectively prevent crime. By understanding what robbery actually means, we can stop robbers before they even obtain the legal opportunity to violate our property rights. Let robbers try to rob you. If you are naked and own nothing, you are completely safe.

Now, a would-be robber might get angry when he discovers you have nothing to “take by force or fear.” In that case, he might attack you with a weapon or his fists. If you are a woman, he might try to sexually assault you. In fact, these chances increase if you are naked on the street. Nonetheless, none of these criminal acts would be robbery. They might be rape, or murder, or attempted rape, or attempted murder, or assault, or sexual assault or battery. But they would not be robbery because the criminal has no “personal property to take.”

Let the law work for you. The law is not just a post hoc remedy intended to deter future criminals from violating your rights. It is a proactive tool. You must merely understand what the law requires before setting off on your daily routine. I have dedicated my life to preventing crime. We can prevent crime by understanding legal definitions. That is why I say to you: If you know what robbery actually means, you can make it impossible for anyone to rob you. Just refuse to own or possess anything.

This is not an absurd recommendation. How can we call a solution absurd if it completely prevents a potential problem? In my opinion, a solution that completely removes the possibility of a problem is a winning solution, not an absurd one. To that extent, heed my advice. If you wish to forever free yourself from robbers, simply give up all your property and live penniless—and naked—on the street. If you do that, you will literally have no “personal property” to “take by force or fear,” not even tattered old rags.

Just imagine how good you’ll feel knowing you can’t be robbed. If someone puts a gun in your face while you’re naked and broke, let him say: “This is a robbery.” You can confidently say: “No it isn’t. I cannot legally be robbed.”

THE TRAGEDY OF PROFESSIONAL EDUCATION : PAYING FOR A LONG SHOT

AN ESSAY

We learn that education is a good thing. When we are young, we learn that the good students get into good schools, and that students at good schools get into good graduate schools. Then the good students at the good graduate schools get really good jobs, and they make lots of money. In sum, we absorb a distinctive mythology about education; education tantalizes us into believing that diligent study, good grades and academic achievement translate immediately into “worldly success.”

“Real life” teaches a very different lesson. I always put the phrase “Real Life” in quotation marks because so many people do not understand that it does not reflect an “absolute” or a “norm.” Rather, the words merely describe cruel commerce and all the ruthless human behavior that accompanies it. Still, people who use the term “real life” generally do so in order to scare some dreamer away from “unimportant” pursuits and to focus on what will “make money.” If he doesn’t, after all, he will “not succeed” and go homeless. In commerce, results matter. It doesn’t matter how you get results; you just need to get them without getting caught breaking the law. A guy with $4,000,000 in the bank got results, ethics or no ethics. But an ethical guy with $600 did not get results. What good did ethics do him in “real life?”

But dreamers aren’t the only ones who can’t cope with “real life.” Intelligence and academic success don’t matter, either. In some sense, dreamers court disaster because they should know that commerce doesn’t care about individual expression unless it makes money. But what about everyone who studies hard in school, tries to get good grades and values knowledge? They face the same risks as the dreamer. This is the tragedy of education: It does not prepare students for commerce. In fact, if people prize educational values too much, they will probably fail in commerce.

Still, education is a step along the “traditional life path” leading to “success.” Every “successful” person spent some time in school, somewhere. Some were good students. Others weren’t. No matter a student’s ability, every student hears rhetoric about academic success. They compete with one another to get better grades than their friends. They struggle to outdo one another for accolades and recognition. They proudly advertise their grade point averages next to their names in the belief that a higher number indicates greater intelligence and a better chance at employment. Education, then, becomes an instrument to win employment. While some students truly relish the opportunity to learn, most are satisfied simply to get degrees that enable them to compete for jobs. In other words, wide-ranging knowledge is simply a forgettable means to win some boring, compensated post at a private firm.

In this sense, a mythology develops around education. Students think that smart people get good grades, and good grades grant instant access to the “best jobs.” “Best jobs” mean jobs that pay the most, not the jobs that are most intellectually rewarding or noble. But this is all a myth. Jobs do not depend on intelligence. True, students with good grades have something to flaunt at interviews. Yet no one gets a “job” simply because they are smart. Rather, jobs are private contractual relationships between “employers” and “employees.” Unlike education, employment cares not for enrichment, intellectual broadening or self-expression. Instead, it is concerned with the small-minded advancement of the employer’s financial mission. Students learn to address many issues from many perspectives. By contrast, employees are expected to address one issue from one perspective—all the time. In this light, it is easy to see why truly passionate students could have a hard time coping with “a job.” Jobs, as commercial relationships, are narrowing. Employees are instruments to the employer’s gain. The employer gains nothing from rumination. He gains only from purposeful, targeted activity. Thus, “educational values” differ profoundly from “commercial values.” For years, students learn that their individual ideas and impressions matter. Employees quickly learn that they do not. In fact, they may even be censured for exploring their own ideas. In short, the sole question in employment is: “How does this activity economically benefit the employer?” This unabashed instrumentalism is hard for intelligent people to swallow.

But there are other, less abstract barriers to success in employment. Employment represents a private, contractual relationship. As such, market rules dictate whether there are enough employers to offer work to hopeful employees. After all, employees are a substantial expense. Employers must set aside money for wages, offices, health insurance, payroll taxes, food, and myriad other incidentals associated with keeping a human being working on their land. During profitable times, employers have extra money to hire more people to do their bidding. During leaner times, employers do not have enough money to hire. During losing times, employers must cut existing employees in order to maintain any profit at all. These natural “boom and bust” periods in commerce play a large role in whether employees find jobs. It does not matter how smart, zealous or motivated a student may be. If times are tough, no one gets a job. In fact, people are just happy not to lose their jobs. For those who don’t have a job yet, it’s tough luck time, valedictorians included.

Employment, then, is a matter of both grace and luck. Grace plays a role to the extent that the employer—as the economically dominant party—agrees to allow an employee to serve him for “compensation.” Grace is not objective; employers hire people they like. There is no magical checklist that automatically entitles a hopeful applicant to a job. Luck plays a role to the extent that economic times must be sufficiently robust to allow the employer to spend money on new servants. Contrary to university rhetoric, no academic wizardry can influence these factors. In commerce, bottom lines dictate who gets hired. If there is not enough money to hire, no one gets hired. It’s that simple. It doesn’t matter if Leonardo da Vinci applies; if the company can’t afford to hire anyone, it won’t. Intelligence and merit have nothing to do with it.

This is a jarring truth for students who spend their whole lives studying in the expectation that their academic toils will yield a reward some day. It is even more jarring for students who take their education further than others. Professional schools, for example, advertise their “graduate employment rates” all the time. In recent years, college degrees have increasingly proven insufficient for “really good jobs.” Recent graduates experience this trend when they try unsuccessfully to land even entry-level positions after college. In order to increase their chances to obtain “high-paying jobs” after college, they decide to go to school again, this time to be doctors, lawyers, accountants or even social workers. In so doing, they immerse themselves in an education more rigorous than anything they have ever encountered. They mercilessly compete with one another for grades, knowing that employers do not even interview candidates who fall below a certain threshold. They put themselves through anxiety, stress and personal turmoil to get the degree. After so much work, they expect some results. At this stage, they really could care less about what they study; they simply want a comfortable job after enduring so much academic hazing.

But a professional degree is no automatic ticket to employment, either. Just because a student gets a law degree does not change the commercial dynamic that drives employment markets. Private firms either have extra money to hire or they don’t. A student’s miraculous academic success at law school will not guarantee him a job at a super firm if the firm does not have a healthy profit margin. In this sense, a professional education is no entitlement. It may be grueling and unforgiving, but a student’s academic tribulations do not magically open employment doors. Only grace and luck can do that.

This is tragic. I know from experience that professional school is not pleasant. In fact, it is anxiety-ridden, exhausting and mentally debilitating. School demands so much energy that students must forgo virtually everything else in their lives to keep up. It can ruin relationships, destroy finances and impact health. It seems to go on forever and impose a new reality on students. They must either give themselves fully to the discipline or risk failure. It teaches exacting attention to subtle details and self-excoriation for failing to notice them. Finally—and ironically—many students go into unsalvageable debt to finance this harrowing “learning experience.”

After all this trauma and sacrifice, it is no wonder that professional school students expect a reward at the end. But they don’t get it. Rather, they get a chance to win a reward. Moreover, because employment moves in cycles, it is really a long shot. There are so many things that can prevent a professional student from getting a job. There are no guarantees. In fact, there are a million uncontrollable contingencies that can derail a student’s hopes. A student may get fantastic grades, but lose out on a job because he wore a bad belt to the interview, and the interviewer put special (and unexplainable) emphasis on belt choice. A male student may be a close runner-up for a job, but lose out because the firm wants to hire a woman, not a man. Another student may have conveyed a nervous impression or have been sick on interview day, dashing his chances. Still another may be number one in his class, but really anger the interviewer because the interviewer has a deep-seated resentment toward overachievers. And some other student may send out hundreds of resumes and receive no response from anyone, ever. Worse, there are pernicious, unfair factors at work, too. Some employers may only want to hire students from certain “prestigious” schools. Others may ignore everyone in order to make room for a friend or relative. Still others may only want to hire women they find sexually attractive. Lastly, there is always the “boom and bust” cycle in commerce. When times are tight, no one gets a job, no matter how brilliant they are. In short, only grace and luck lead to employment. Intelligence and sacrifice entitle students to nothing.

Getting a “good job” is a long shot. Despite popular academic rhetoric, diligent study, intellectual curiosity and school success do not magically lead to employment. In fact, educational values have little to do with employment. It is tragic when superb students with real academic promise cannot find suitable jobs.

But there is a way to escape this tragedy. I, for one, do not regret that I obtained a professional education. I saw that employment had little to do with the educational values I cultivated as a student. I did not sacrifice my passion for learning by playing the employment game. Rather, I went to work for myself. By refusing to participate in the “employment game,” I preserved myself from the psychic agony and perpetual disappointment that stem from the employment relationship. It is a more difficult road in the sense that I must find other ways to make money. But what I lose in stability I make up for in happiness. I know that winning employment is arbitrary, and that employers are capricious. Furthermore, I know that getting a job is hardly a “reward;” rather, I view it as a form of surrender. I do not like servility. No matter how “good” the job, employment is a species of servility. Employees are servants. They are conceptually weak and fawning. I do not like being a weak concept. If employers have the power to extend grace, I escape potential disappointment by refusing to even petition them.

Yet I pity all the hopeful students who think their academic effort will lead them to success in private employment. They will soon see that commerce plays by different rules; no one is entitled to anything, unless, of course, they are related to someone in power. Relationships and connections are always better than merit and intelligence. That’s “real life” for you.

THE MILITARY IS SOCIALISTIC BECAUSE IT CARES ABOUT ITS OWN MEN

AN ESSAY

Several days ago, I watched a documentary about American military strategy against Japan during World War II. The basic lesson boiled down to this: “America won not by overwhelming manpower, but rather by overwhelming firepower.” Unlike the Japanese—and especially the Russians—American military leaders recoiled from suffering heavy casualties in battle. Instead, they preferred to leverage massive technological advantages against their enemies, ostensibly because they cared about their soldiers’ lives. In the Pacific, this involved blasting the Japanese with massive battleships, airplanes and tanks. Obviously some infantrymen had to die in the final push to take island fortresses, but not before the Navy and Air Force gravely weakened the defenders with numbing firepower. In essence, although America mustered huge numbers of military personnel in World War II—over 16 million—commanders won battles without subjecting them to unnecessary risks.

That tradition continued after the war ended. In virtually every conflict America has fought since 1945, the military has put a premium on technology over manpower. Manpower is vital to operate the technology, but American strategy bets on technology to win battles, not massed men. In Vietnam, the Air Force dropped countless tons of bombs on the jungle in an effort to root out the Viet Cong. B-52 bombers razed North Vietnam’s cities to the ground. When American troops got in trouble, they called in air support to hammer their attackers. In most cases, the Air Force faced no opposition at all. They freely bombed, napalmed and strafed their enemies. American soldiers died. But a whole lot more Vietnamese did.

In Operation Desert Storm, America took its “technological” approach to war to the ultimate level. By 1991, the United States held sway over a formidable new “computerized” arsenal, including invincible tanks, stealth bombers and “smart bombs” that could home in on individual targets. Again, although America deployed hundreds of thousands of soldiers in the Gulf, the technology did the fighting. Day and night, the Air Force systematically pulverized the Iraqi army. By the time the Army moved in, there was almost nothing left to shoot. And once the advance into Kuwait began, the Army savagely destroyed anything that resisted. This time, only a handful of American soldiers died, while up to 100,000 Iraqis did. So complete was the slaughter that more American troops fell to friendly fire than to enemy action.

Beginning in 2003, America has attempted to leverage its “technological” approach to warfare in Iraq. Despite initial successes against “conventional” resistance on the way to toppling Saddam Hussein’s regime, American strategy bogged down once the conventional battlelines disappeared. The guerrilla “insurgency” that arose after Saddam’s fall continues to this day. American troops must engage in demoralizing patrols. Often, they are hard pressed to tell civilians from foes. In most cases, they never even see their attackers, who either wait in ambush or plant traps for them along the roads. Technology counts for nothing in these circumstances. And this is why—despite the smug confidence of men like former Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld and George W. Bush—the capabilities of “technology-based” armies in the 21st Century have their limits.

Yet I do not fully criticize America’s “technological” or “standoff” approach to war. America fights wars all the time. True, they are not colossal, World War II-style struggles between established States. But they are wars nonetheless. America solves problems with warfare. It defends its ideology and commercial interests with warfare, just as every Empire in history has done. Perhaps this is what dominant world powers must do. And at least America is not reckless when it fights. It does its utmost to ensure that few Americans die. Officially, it tries to reduce civilian casualties, but civilian casualties are unavoidable when deploying such immense firepower. America avoids losing its own men by deploying firepower. If it kills some civilians in order to save Americans, it will. That is just how the game works.

I do not criticize America’s war methodology to the extent that American military leaders care about American lives. There is nothing wrong with wanting to avoid unnecessary deaths. In fact, one might even say it is compassionate. Throughout history, many military leaders viewed their own men with contempt. They did not blink when hurling them into certain death. Generally speaking, however, American commanders rarely do this. While some men always must die to fulfill dangerous objectives, the real question is how many must die. The Russians never cared how many soldiers died. They just threw everyone in and trusted their overwhelming manpower to win. By contrast, American commanders actually take pains to reduce risks to their own troops by first inundating the enemy with firepower. In a strange way, this reflects care for individual lives. It might subject noncombatants to huge risks and inflict horrific losses on the enemy. But it is still “care.” American military commanders don’t hesitate to kill the enemy. They just don’t like seeing Americans get killed. It actually really bothers them.

I mention this because care for soldiers reflects a peculiarly benevolent, well-intentional government paternalism. In America, that is rare. In civilian life, for example, Americans learn to be independent economic creatures. They learn to “make their own way” without State help. They don’t get free health insurance; they bear the full price of irresponsibility, bad luck and failure. American civilians depend on themselves, not State apparati. In fact, Americans are patriotic largely to the extent that the American “Nation” provides them a “liberty sphere” in which they can pursue their own interests without interference from the government. They like America because America “leaves them alone” and lets them get rich. They don’t want help, because help is for weaklings. They want to be happy, independent economic producers who pursue their own self-interest. For the most part, the government lets them do exactly this. It does not step in when civilians suffer hardship or loss. It lets them bear suffering with remarkable indifference. It does not really “care” for them like a watchful parent does.

Not so in the military. The military is a governmental institution that shows incredible care for its members. In the military, the emphasis does not lie on the individual; it lies on the group. There is a “group mission” and “group ethics” that bind everyone to common—and noncommercial—goals. There is common care for each member. It may be harsh care, but it is still care. If a solider gets sick, army hospitals care for him. He does not have to worry about rent, food, clothing or bills. The military provides him everything he needs, leaving him free to focus solely on the “group mission.” Finally, American commanders truly care that their troops do not die in battle. This represents true government care. Symbolically, when military commanders actively worry about their soldiers’ lives, it represents government caring about its citizens. This differs from civilian life. If a civilian encounters unavoidable circumstances that put his life in jeopardy, that’s his problem. The civilian authorities do not care.

Should we be proud about this? Why does government care not extend throughout all of society, not just certain institutions like the military? Do we have to confront mortal danger in combat before the government starts really worrying about our well-being in life? The United States spends half its gross national product on maintaining the military. This includes all the fancy technology that gives the military the “overwhelming firepower” it needs to preserve its “manpower.” People complain that the government spends too much on things like stealth bombers, unmanned robot tanks and sophisticated airstrike guidance systems. But all these expenditures reflect care for individual soldiers’ lives, not just a desire to defeat potential enemies. Stealth bombers efficiently destroy things so that military commanders do not have to put American soldiers in jeopardy to fulfill a particular objective. The pricetag for stealth bombers, then, indirectly saves American lives by insulating American soldiers from combat risks.

For a country that prides itself on “self-reliance” and “making your own way,” it is quite striking that America spends so much money protecting those who are not self-reliant. After all, military personnel are quintessentially dependent: They depend on the military for everything, from equipment to food to accommodations to emotional support. In essence, the Armed Forces represent a massive welfare State dedicated to the safety and well-being of its members. It is ironic that most military personnel consider themselves conservative when they directly benefit from extravagant government largesse on every level.

In fact, they get the best. There are less than 5 million Americans in the Armed Forces, yet half the GDP goes to support them. The other 295 million Americans have to make do with the other half.

America can be socialistic when it wants to be. American support for the military—and the military’s obsessive care for its own members—proves this. That is why I do not think that “socialism” and “America” exclude one another. Our military is a shining example that Americans can truly care about each other from a social perspective. American commanders do not like to see their soldiers die; they take great, expensive pains to ensure that they do not. That spirit should permeate our entire society, not just the military. Yes, it costs a lot. But it bears tangible benefits. When individuals know that they have recourse to assistance when they need it, they feel good to be part of a larger community that cares about them. Soldiers feel proud to be in the Armed Forces for the same reason; they know the military will support them as long as they do not commit some gross infraction.

Considering all these factors, the military is a socialistic institution. It is not capitalistic at all. It might fight to protect capitalistic ideals among civilians, but capitalism in the military would destroy its cohesion and esprit de corps. If the military practiced capitalistic ideals, soldiers and officers would struggle to exploit one another for personal gain, not to advance “common goals” or “the mission.” Soldiers would fight for “themselves,” not their “buddies” or great principles such as “freedom,” “honor” or “sacrifice.” If the military were capitalistic, soldiers on the battlefield would say to their wounded comrades: “That’s your problem, pal.” Some Lieutenants would be richer than other Lieutenants, even though the regulations say that everyone with the same rank is equal. And if the military practiced capitalism, it would not really care if some undifferentiated soldiers died in a battle as long as it did not impose a cost “on profitable operations.” This is certainly not the case in the military as it exists in the United States. It cares too much about others’ lives; that is why it is not a capitalistic institution. Rather, it is a socialistic institution within a capitalistic society. And it would not be effective in battle if it were not essentially socialistic.

America can learn from the military. Military life is in many ways a rarefied existence. Military personnel are insulated from the pernicious “buy, sell, make money” cycle that typifies civilian life. Every soldier has a chance to advance based on his merit, not his money. He does not worry about bills, rent, clothing or electricity. Instead, he focuses his mind and body on larger “missions” that transcend his own commercial gain. And he knows that his officers truly care that he lives. These are not bad ideals. In fact, they are quite noble compared to the usual impulses that drive civilian life. Soldiers are not “on their own” in a society that could care less whether they live, die or go bankrupt. They are part of a family that cares. It may care harshly, but it still cares.

In the American military, commanders care so much about their soldiers’ lives that they are willing to level whole cities in order to protect them. We do not have to go that far in order to care about our fellow citizens. The military experience proves that America can actively care about its own people, even if it professes “self-reliance” and “total independence.” I would find it refreshing to know that civilian authorities cared as much whether individual citizens live or die as military commanders care whether their soldiers live or die. This might be socialistic. But it is also quintessentially humanitarian.

A SHORT BREAK, AND A WORD ON WRITING

I don't like it when "real life" interrupts my writing. But that's exactly what it does from time to time. Today, I have so many nagging administrative tasks that I won't be able to sit down and really generate a good post this morning. With luck, I will have some time this evening, but please forgive me if fatigue compromises my writing muse.

Tracey Ullman recently satirized J.K. Rowling in her State of the Union comedy show. Essentially, she mocked Rowling for obsessively controlling the "Harry Potter" franchise by depicting her suing the most insignificant transgressors against her "intellectual property." During one exchange, Ullman qua Rowling says to a U.S. Customs official who has aspirations to be a writer: "You're really not going to take time off from your job to write, are you? You're not going anywhere with this, are you?"

There was brutal truth in Ullman's satire here. Not only did she excoriate Rowling--who only had time to write because she was unemployed and received government benefits to help her avoid homelessness--but she also hit upon the sad reality that "employment" and "real life" tend to snuff out artistic expression altogether. Rainer Maria Rilke said that you should not even bother writing unless "you must do it." In other words, you "must" write, even if your obligations and commitments pose virtually insuperable roadblocks. That sounds great, and I even agree with it to a point. But Rilke never had to worry about his rent, nor did he have sick relatives to care for, nor did he suffer mental illness, nor did he have crushing debt that required him to seek energy-draining "employment" to pay it off. More importantly, Rilke never spent his hours attending to menial tasks and boring (but depressingly necessary) labors to fulfill commitments to creditors and family members. Because he did not have such commitments, he never arrived home exhausted, uninspired, torpid and incapable of imagination. Yet this is how we feel when we get home after a day of compulsory "service" fulfilling obligations.

In short, we have to slog out a living to avoid homelessness and bankruptcy. Rilke could sit musing in Paris salons and get handouts from scintillated bourgeois women. We cannot all be so lucky.

And it is not our fault. Our circumstances in life dictate whether we have time to write. When I have to take a day off from writing, I do not despair. I do not consider myself "defeated." I wish I could be like Rilke and all the "professional, successful" writers who do not have to worry about creditors, rent, administrative obligations and the myriad annoyances that plague me every day. If I were, I would have bottomless energy and creativity from the moment I wake up in the morning until the evening. But all too often I have to contend with some nonsense, or even work for someone else; and that sucks the very life out of me. By the time I get home, I can do little more than stare, let alone be creative. This is "real life."

Having said all this, I do my best to write despite all the personal and financial challenges that hound me. I try not to describe them in detail; this is not a psychiatry blog, nor do I expect anyone to really care about my issues. This is just the way life goes. Some have it easier than others. Still, I am relatively content with my lot. It could be much worse: I am healthy; I am just broke, in debt and romantically committed. I just resent the suggestion that it is somehow "anti-artistic" to refrain from writing one day because "real writers write" no matter what else they face in life. That is simply unrealistic. For debtors like me with relationships, bills and sick relatives, I have no choice but to be "anti-artistic" every now and then. If I weren't, I would be homeless or emotionally wrecked. And if that happened, my "artistic production" would fall to nothing. Thus, I take a break when I must, Rilke be damned.

As yet, I haven't found a wealthy patron to finance my scribblings. Until I do, I regret to say that I will occasionally need to take days off from writing once in a while in order to stave off bankruptcy and to maintain crucial relationships with important people in my life.

Does this make me a cop-out? Maybe in J.K. Rowling's eyes it does. But please forgive me; I haven't yet published 45 novels with 17 film adaptations. I actually fret over unexpected bills because every single dollar I earn has already been spoken for. To some extent, that stays my artistic hand. If I don't sometimes grit my teeth and handle administrative crap, my creditors would do me in. So I give up the writing some days.

But rest assured. Administrative nonsense only restrains me once in a while. At all other times, you can count on Reason, Commerce, Justice & Free Beer. And thanks again to all those who take the time to read what I write.

COMMITMENTS ARE UNREALISTIC AND USUALLY UNREASONABLE

AN ESSAY

We hear about “commitments” all the time. When we hear that a person has “commitments,” we tend to admire him. In the abstract, we link commitments with positive ideas, such as “a commitment to justice” or “a commitment to goodness.” But we make and break commitments all the time. They do not typically involve lofty ideals or premises. Rather, they concern the forgettable grist of life: Commerce, fleeting relationships, petty plans, timing, instrumental networking—stuff that ultimately no one remembers. Generally, there is nothing intrinsically special about commitments. Rather, they force human beings into a losing game, because commitments try to buck natural changes in life. Just live a few years to learn nothing stays the same for long in this world. That’s why it’s unrealistic—and usually unreasonable—to commit to anything. And in most cases there is nothing we can do about it.

So why do we admire commitments in the abstract? Let us start with the word. “To commit” has many meanings in English. For our purposes, the word’s most relevant meaning involves “pledging, obligation and assurance” to undertake future action or believe future thoughts. Dictionary.com specifies: “4. To bind or obligate, as by pledge or assurance.” A commitment, then, is a statement or promise to do or believe something long in advance. It obligates the speaker to do what he says, even if future events turn out in a completely unexpected way. It forces him into a dilemma between “his word” and the pressures of unforeseen reality. By making a “commitment,” the speaker takes a huge gamble that life will not twist away from him in the time it takes to keep his promise. If he loses the gamble and reneges on his commitment, others label him “dishonorable” and “unreliable.” If he wins the gamble and fulfills his word before circumstances turn on him, others label him “honorable,” “steadfast” and “resolute.” In both events, commitments are risky. If a commitment is long-term, there is a greater chance that intervening reality will undermine the circumstances necessary to fulfill it. But if it is short-term, life has a smaller window in which to unravel it.

Yet our society encourages us to make commitments all the time. In so doing, it leads us into dangerous territory. It insists that we “honor our word” to do things. But if life gets away from us and makes it impossible—or at least extremely difficult—to honor our word, we suffer excoriation for failure. The law adds more thematic baggage to the unofficial “dishonor” stigma that accompanies failure to fulfill commitments. In “regular life,” we make “unofficial” commitments. The law, however, recognizes special “official” commitments called “contracts.” While “regular life” penalizes our failure to adhere to commitments with social stigma and derision for “dishonor,” the law penalizes us in a highly technical way. In so doing, it gives official approval to the prevailing social convention that “commitments are good,” and “word-breaking is bad.” If a commitment fits the legal requirements of “contract,” it is more than just a commitment. It becomes a “cause of action” for money damages when some unlucky soul does not fulfill his word. Fault and circumstance have nothing to do with it. If a person does not do what he promised, the law penalizes him, no matter what the situation may be.

Whether in life or in law, commitments are troublesome. They ask us to ignore and defy inevitable changes that pursue us. In my view, it is not only unrealistic to make certain commitments, but also unfair. This is not to say that it is not admirable to make long-term commitments. It is merely to say that life changes far too much—and men are far too weak—to realistically deliver on many promises. In this sense, life and law overlap. Consider long-term mortgage contracts. Generally speaking, mortgage customers commit—both legally and grammatically—to pay a bank a certain amount every month for 30 years or more. Consider what can happen in one year, let alone thirty. Someone could get sick. Someone could get run over by a train. Someone could suffer crippling depression and lose their job. The economy could tank, causing widespread unemployment. A disaster could strike, destroying the house. Someone could get laid off. Someone could take a pay cut. Someone could have a crisis of conscience and refuse to take a paycheck from a corrupt organization. Someone could lose a limb. Someone could commit a crime and go to prison. Someone could cheat on a spouse, leading to marital strife, divorce, acrimony and reduced income. Someone could lose their parents, causing emotional turmoil. Or someone could just lose interest in life and commit suicide.

All this could happen in one year. Think about what can happen in thirty. Life whips us with unrelenting pressure, from both inside our souls and from the outside world. Yet the bank could care less: You made a commitment. You must pony up the payment every month—like you said you would—no matter what dramatic, unforeseen circumstances you might face. It doesn’t matter that you did not foresee trouble 15 years down the road. You made a commitment. The fact that both popular judgment and the law favor the bank’s position in this situation strikes me as fundamentally unfair—and unrealistic in the extreme. Realistically speaking, we cannot adhere to commitments. Life changes too much. What was normal on the day we signed the contract may no longer be normal five years later. But commitments bind us to our word even when it would be painful or absurd to continue following it. All this ensues because we “pledged ourselves” to an action. When we make commitments, we entirely assume the risk that life will not turn against us in the time it takes to fulfill our word. That is not smart.

Commitments, then, are unrealistic because they ask us to defy inevitable, unforeseen change in life. That is unreasonable because a reasonable person does not take action that is sure to fail. Reasonable people use their sense, experience and memory to judge future actions. If sense, experience and memory reveal that a certain action will likely not yield success, a reasonable person will refrain from engaging in it. Sense, experience and memory quickly reveal to us that life is unpredictable and volatile. What appears tranquil one day may be disrupted and toxic the next. Only a naïve person could ignore that. Why, then, do we continue to make doomed commitments every day? Simple: Because in many cases power plays a role in commitment.

We do not live in an equal society. In our commercial world, we need “things” that we do not have. In order to get what we don’t have, we must deal with people who do. That means we must enter into relationships with people who hold advantages over us, whether they are lenders, merchants, schools or retailers. These people want to make a profit on us, and it is easy to make a profit when you can define the rules of the relationship. If we want money from a bank because we can’t afford a home, they give it to us only if we commit ourselves to paying them back every month with twice as much interest. If we want money from a lender to go to school because we can’t afford tuition, they give it to us only if we commit ourselves to paying them back every month with three times as much interest. When we make our commitment, we do not really think about the future. What do we know what the future holds? We just need the money now, in 2009. We hope that we will have income to pay it back in 2014, 2024 and 2034. We don’t know what disaster might strike in 2013. We don’t know if we’ll lose our job in the financial crisis of 2021. We gamble that we will have the money every month to pay the bank because we made a commitment. Yet that commitment puts the risk on us that our lives will not inalterably change at some time before we fulfill our word. That is a huge risk. And it is an unreasonable one. We take it only because we must. In that sense, our commitments may be unrealistic and unreasonable, but we have little choice in the matter. Either we make an unfair, unrealistic or unreasonable commitment, or we do not get our tuition money. We gamble that we will have a better shot at life with an education, so we take the bet. In this sense, we make commitments in many cases because the relationship is skewed: The powerful party sets the terms, and we must follow.

Not all commitments reflect unequal commercial relationships. Emotional commitments, for instance, do not strictly involve money. Nonetheless, emotional commitments are just as unrealistic and unreasonable as financial commitments. Commitments are commitments, no matter the subject matter. They ask us to defy inevitable, unforeseen changes in life. In emotional commitments, changes can strike from the outside. But more often they originate in human weakness and inconstancy. Human beings’ tastes and desires vacillate as violently as the weather. When two people commit to each other emotionally, they play a dangerous game. They gamble that one or the other will not develop affections for anyone else at any time. They gamble that one or the other will not suffer injury or lose interest in the relationship at any time. They gamble that external pressures will not cause emotional rifts between them.

As was true in financial commitments, these are losing bets. Human beings are weak. They lust for others, no matter what commitments they have made to their mates. Their circumstances change over time, altering the way they look at their partners. The same goes for the other partner. Human beings do what makes them feel happy, not what enables them to fulfill their word. Naturally, this makes emotional commitments extremely difficult to maintain. After all, if the only thing maintaining an emotional relationship is the abstract desire to “keep one’s word” at the expense of happiness, it does not take a psychiatrist to understand that the bond will soon break. The quest for happiness is individual, not joint. It changes with time and circumstances. That leaves a lot of room for mischief in a “committed relationship.” In short, a lot can go wrong over time between two individual people who each want to be happy in their own way. That is why emotional commitments are just as unrealistic and unreasonable as financial commitments. No matter the subject matter, commitments defy change and time. That is why they are losing propositions.

I am certain that readers will find my premise here too pessimistic. My rhetoric might lead readers to think that I have no faith in commitments. This is not entirely true. I think that some commitments can work, and I admire people who adhere to their word no matter what curveballs life throws at them. Honor and commitment do go hand in hand; honorable people do what they promise. But in many cases honor has less to do with it than blind fortune. Some people live relatively changeless lives. Some people do not regularly suffer terrible upheavals or reversals. Some people make plans and no intervening events foil them. They can fulfill their commitments without complaint because nothing bad happens in the meantime. Is it honorable that they fulfill their word? Certainly. Nonetheless, they benefited from stability and changelessness. They could be honorable because nothing forced their hand. We cannot all be so lucky. Our choices do not always define our path in life. Sometimes we suffer reversals and hardship even if we make all the right moves. By contrast, sometimes everything turns out well even if we repeatedly make asinine decisions. Change affects us all differently. And that is really what determines whether we can fulfill commitments.

Honor means that we adhere to principle no matter the circumstances. It means that we take our commitments seriously. I like to think that I have honor. But I won’t deny that life has its own plan. More often than not, life interrupts our plans, alters our values and forces us to change our assumptions. We see things differently from year to year. And sometimes one year will deal us a disaster that fundamentally disrupts everything we thought was true about life. Time poses these challenges to us all. Thus, while it is good to have honor and to adhere to our word, I do not think it is wrong to modify our commitments when life chops the foundations out from under us. There is nothing honorable or spectacular about adhering to commitments when the very reason for those commitments has vanished. In fact, that would be unreasonable.

Yet honor wields a bothersome mystique. It tells us to feel guilty when we must abandon our word, even if life forces our hand in the matter. But should we feel guilty about reneging on a commitment that was unfair and unrealistic in the first place? Or are we to blame for making the commitment to start? At this point, I cannot ignore power. All too often we make commitments under pressure; and powerful parties use our own honor against us to make us feel bad about failing to live up to their unfair conditions. When we give our word to do something under unfair disadvantages, I do not think it dishonorable to renege if we lose the rigged game.

Of course, the law sees it differently. And the house always wins. “You made a commitment....we don't care what happened to you. Tough luck."

But for the grace of God go we all.

AMERICANS PREFER WORK TO DRINKING, POLL REVEALS

NEWS FLASH

NEW YORK—Contrary to popular belief, Americans actually prefer employment and work to drinking and fun, according to a recent poll conducted by InformationPayz, Inc., a leading survey bureau serving Fortune 100 companies. “It’s true,” said InformationPayz’ senior statistician, Mr. A. Anderson Spotts. “No fewer than 93% of Americans say they like their jobs more than beer, wine, schnapps and malt liquor.” Moreover, according to the study, this is not because Americans need money from their jobs. “All those polled said that income had nothing to do with their opinions about alcohol. We can conclude on that basis that Americans like to work more than drink—whether or not they depend on their jobs for necessary income,” explained Mr. Spotts.

Americans gave detailed reasons for their opinions. Their answers were remarkably consistent across all racial, social and economic lines. Whether wealthy bankers or low-wage janitors, Americans revealed that they enjoy the feeling they experience when they work more than the feeling they experience when they drink alcoholic beverages. According to pollee Mrs. Mary E. Bickford, a Caucasian secretarial assistant at a Newark, New Jersey real estate brokerage house: “Just getting to work every morning makes me feel all tipsy and happy. Being around copy machines, paper clips and bitter women in cubicles who complain about their children gets me all warm inside. When I watch the clock and eat my bologna sandwich in the windowless coffee room for 30 minutes each day, I just want to get up, dance, party and find eligible men. By comparison, booze is a cheap high.” At the same time, Mr. Clarence F. Jackson, an African-American Senior Financial Advisor at a major New York investment bank, said: “Commuting makes me feel great. I love waking up at 5 AM every morning knowing that I will need to sit in traffic for two hours listening to bad talk radio, receive castigation from angry drivers, pay $40 for parking then spend 10 hours in an office speaking to an automated phone system. Who needs whiskey when you have a job? Just being at work—or sitting in traffic getting there—makes me feel like I’m on top of the world.” Finally, Mr. B. Jeff Puttz, Esq., a senior litigator at Puttz, Puttz & Stickett, LLP, said: “Nothing can quite match yelling at legal assistants who don’t file things properly. For me, there is something euphoric about waving papers in people’s faces while telling them they will lose their jobs if they put color-coded dividers in the wrong place again. And what’s better than reviewing financial records? Even if we have a losing month, I don’t have an ulcer when I look at cash flow spreadsheets. I start slurring my words, smiling goofily and getting chatty with the receptionists. By contrast, shots and beer don’t make me feel nearly as good as I feel when I’m in the office.”

Americans said they love to work for its own sake. Although critics may find it easy to dismiss InformationPayz’ findings on the ground that Americans must work to pay their bills, Mr. Spotts explained that: “Our findings are guaranteed accurate. We spoke to a representative sample of Americans employed in every significant field. Statistically speaking, our findings cannot reasonably be debated. They reveal that Americans categorically enjoy work for its own sake, not merely because they need jobs to survive. Over 98% of those polled said that work made them feel alive, free, euphoric, giddy, erotic, frisky and ‘young again.’ By contrast, 99% of those polled said that the emotions they experience at work are far more positive than the emotions they experience while drinking. Although these pollees said that work makes them get up painfully early in the morning, endure gossip, plod through mind-numbingly boring assignments, face angry superiors and customers, ignore family and health, expose themselves to contagion, fight for space on subway trains, rush carelessly down streets to avoid lateness, eat poorly, develop various health problems such as hemorrhoids, indigestion, intestinal polyps and stiff necks, beg for permission to use the rest room, attend emasculating quarterly performance reviews, lie to supervisors concerning work progress, betray acquaintances in order to obtain favorable work credit and miss daytime baseball games, they all would prefer facing these challenges than cracking open an ale and getting drunk. “Work makes me feel alive,” said a bathroom contractor in Florida. “Nothing can match the way I feel when I bicker over an invoice. Even a pina colada can’t give me the feeling I get when my boss calls me an asshole and threatens to fire me for forgetting an envelope. It’s not about the money. It’s about doing what you’re supposed to do. No alcohol gives you the high you get when you do that.”

Many pollees echoed these sentiments. They said that work gave them a “sense of direction and purpose” in life, as well as “identity, camaraderie, cohesion and belonging.” Mr. Spotts analyzed the data as follows: “Americans like being part of a team. Over 99% of those polled said they approached their jobs as they would a sports event. These respondents said they enjoyed ‘helping the company win,’ or ‘playing their position,’ even if they receive poor pay for it. For these respondents, winning the game for the team gave them the best possible feelings.” At the same time, the data indicated that pollees generally considered “healthy team feelings” better than “drunkenness.” According to Ms. Maria B. Lopez, a checkout clerk at a Dallas, Texas supermarket: “Putting on my apron and nametag makes me feel like my life means something. I handle a lot of cash every day for the store but I know it’s not mine. I never think about stealing it; I don’t deserve it. It’s my job to make change, smile at the customers and ask if they are having a good day when they come through the checkout aisle. I only make $6.75 an hour but I love my job. My paycheck does not feed my kids, but I would not give up this job for the world. Does it beat drinking? Absolutely. Sipping a margarita and dancing in a club can’t compare to standing on your feet for 9 hours, suffering back spasms, repeating the same words to 500 customers and counting back change every day. Slamming shots can’t compare to getting screamed at by the assistant manager for talking to the lady who works in Aisle 5, or for coming up 2 cents short at drawer check time. I’m part of a team. I like what I do. I like helping my team win. Customer satisfaction beats drinking every time.”

InformationPayz recognizes that its findings may surprise some readers. After all, many readers may find it strange that Americans actually would rather work than drink. To some eyes, it appears that Americans do not want to be at work. To some eyes, it appears that they would rather be doing anything except working. “We often get that reaction,” said Mr. Spotts. “But appearances can be deceiving.” Mr. Spotts pointed out that InformationPayz never publishes misleading reports. He also explained that InformationPayz uses the most advanced statistical and survey methods, aided by several Yale-educated mathematicians. “The numbers don’t lie. And our polling methods are trademarked. They work. Guaranteed.”

What do the numbers show? Mr. Spotts said they show that Americans love work more than life itself. “Who can dispute that drinking makes you feel good?” queried Mr. Spotts. “If 98% of all Americans say they prefer work to drinking, does that not show that work makes them feel even better than drinking? In our professional judgment, we believe that Americans get a bigger high from service than from stimulating their senses with alcohol. This reflects that Americans enjoy acknowledging their positions in life, as well as their desire to identify themselves through their work. Americans like life the way it is. Drinking, by contrast, distorts reality and makes people momentarily forget their problems. The fact that most Americans prefer work to drinking therefore shows that Americans like their lives. The do not want to distort reality; they want to stay in reality. In reality, they are dutiful servants with a job to do. They feel belonging when they do their jobs. Drinking obscures those emotions. That’s why they prefer work to drinking. Americans like service. They like to listen to their bosses and get projects done. They like being part of a hierarchy and wearing nametags. They like commuting and suppressing their true feelings to avoid censure. The numbers show all these things. In short, Americans like reality. That is why they prefer workplace reality to drunken escape. And money plays no role in their preference.”

If Americans prefer work to drinking, what explains the fact that Americans complain about their jobs all week, then flock to bars, pubs and dance halls as soon as the whistle blows on Friday afternoons? Mr. Spotts reasoned: “Statistically, there is a tiny but vocal minority—less than 2%--who prefer drinking to work. These are the individuals who convey an impression that Americans would rather drink than work. In short, these ‘bad apples’ give all Americans an undeserved reputation for laziness. Additionally, even Americans who love work sometimes say they would like to drink, even though they do not really mean it. Experts from our psychiatric department advise us that this is perfectly natural. They inform us that all Americans are raised to respect their workplace superiors and to feel shame if they do not work. These entrenched values hold firm, even if an American employee may sometimes wish to suppress reality with alcohol. In short, these ‘passing desires’ to get drunk represent statistical aberrations. Even Americans who say they would ‘love to get plastered on Friday’ still love their jobs. If they were asked the question ‘Do you prefer beer to work?’ they would invariably answer ‘No.’ The mere desire to drink once in a while does not mean, in other words, that Americans intrinsically prefer alcohol to employment. In short, employment provides far more joy to Americans than beer, whether compensated or not. In short, employment fulfills the program to which all Americans aspire. Alcohol contradicts that program. That is why Americans reject alcohol for work.”

Americans do not like to drink because drinking induces unjustifiable pleasure. According to InformationPayz’ poll, Americans reject unjustifiable pleasures. Before Americans experience pleasure, 95% said that they must “earn” it through work or merit. Because alcohol produces pleasurable sensations without a “job” or “task” to complete beforehand, most Americans revile it. Respondent Mr. James G. Cork, a senior actuary at a Pittsburgh life insurance company, said: “I cannot feel good about anything unless I work for it. When I complete assigned projects at work, I feel terrific. But when I sit at a bar and drink tequila, what have I achieved? Who told me to drink? Not my boss. Basically, I cannot feel good about anything unless I first receive an order and carry it out properly. If I don’t deserve something, I don’t deserve to feel good. That’s one reason I love my job: I know I deserve everything I get, because I know who’s giving me orders. I know what my boss expects, and I deliver accordingly.” When it comes to pleasure, Americans believe that they must earn pleasure through hard work. InformationPayz’ poll reveals that they recoil from “cheap, unearned pleasures” like alcohol, sex, movies, amusements, games and parties. Mr. Cork put it best: “If I don’t receive an order to do it, I will not feel good about it.”

At Reason, Commerce, Justice & Free Beer, we believe in employment, just like the American people. InformationPayz’ studies provide a refreshing insight into American sensibilities about employment. Put simply, they confirm our abiding conviction that Americans love to work, achieve and win—as a team. Once again, fact contradicts cynics who believe that American workers watch the clock all day and secretly dream that they could be off fishing, drinking, dancing, carousing or just watching television. Fact tells us that Americans enjoy service. It even tells us that they cannot feel good about themselves if they are not serving someone in a superior position. From lawyers all the way down to checkout clerks, all Americans relish their jobs. They relish the spirit of achievement and hard work that makes this country great. Despite every contraindication, we now know that they actually prefer showing up at the office to showing up at the tavern—and money has nothing to do with it.

We salute every American who works for a living. Congratulations on living the dream. We do not live to drink; we live to work. After all, the numbers show one thing: Working makes us feel better than drinking. And who can argue with numbers?

WITH MONEY AND CREDIT, ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE

HAPPY HABITATS REAL ESTATE COMPANY OF NEW YORK

“Renting. Buying. Selling. Living. Your Way. Every Day.®”

Dear Mr. Christ,

You recently inquired about relocating to New York City from a Middle Eastern home. True to your word, you sent me all the application materials I requested, including your most recent tax returns, a letter verifying current income, a credit report and bank statements dating back two years. Having considered your application materials, I regret to advise that you will not be able to rent the properties in which you expressed interest.

Manhattan rents begin around $2,500 for a studio apartment. Landlords will not rent to you without a verifiable annual income forty times the monthly rent. Put another way, in order to rent an apartment at $2,500 per month, you must verify an annual gross income of $100,000. In Manhattan, this represents the low end. Your application materials disclose that you once worked as a carpenter, but now you are an unemployed hermit. Your tax returns show that you earned only 12 shekels last year, which you immediately gave to the poor, leaving you with no money at all to your name. Your bank statement said you have never maintained any savings or checking accounts. You do not even know what a portfolio is. You are worth nothing. Unfortunately, this excludes you from renting any apartment currently listed with us.

You advised me that you know you are poor. But you wrote that you were confident you could rent an apartment because: “With men this is impossible, but with God, all things are possible.” Matthew 19:26. At that time, I advised you that you were setting yourself up for disappointment because Manhattan landlords will not rent to you without proof that you make at least $100,000 per year. You responded that you look down upon wealthy people because: “It will be hard for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven,” and “it is easier for a camel go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.” Matthew 19:23-24. I told you that your attitude would not help you win approval for a Manhattan apartment. I also told you that no person without verifiable income—or at least a guarantor with money, such as a wealthy father—had ever rented an apartment before. You responded with a story about Sarah, who gave birth to a child when she was more than 100 years old. You wrote: “Why did Sarah laugh, saying ‘Can I really have a child when I’m old?’ Is anything impossible for the Lord?” Genesis 18:13-14. You said that you could rent an apartment in Manhattan without money, just as Sarah gave birth long past childbearing age, because “with God, all things are possible.”

I am sorry to tell you that without money and credit, nothing is possible in the New York real estate market. You may say that all things are possible as long as you believe in God, but I can certifiably tell you that you will never rent an apartment here without money or credit. Your credit score is extremely poor. You told me you even insulted moneylenders and have no respect for money (“He also found money changers sitting there…[and] poured out the money changers’ coins and overturned their tables.” John 2:14-15). Landlords do not look keenly upon tenants who have no respect for their creditors. Why should they risk renting to you when they know you do not have the money to pay? That is foolish. You cannot possibly expect a reasonable landlord to rent to you, when dozens of other applicants show suitable income, savings and credit. On paper, you have no job. You have no savings. You have no credit. Your net worth is zero. As a financial matter, you are utterly impotent. You have no right at all to expect that a landlord will rent an apartment to you. Not here, they won’t. To use an urban colloquialism: No money, no honey.

I have little doubt that you are a good man. But being a good man does not pay the rent. Money pays the rent. If you wish to rent an apartment in New York City, I suggest that you adapt to your circumstances. Rather than saying: “With God, all things are possible,” be more realistic and say: “With money and credit, all things are possible.” If you had a good income, savings and a credit score over 700, you could rent any apartment you wanted; provided, of course, that the co-op board approves your character. Your attitude against rich people will not help your cause. Unless you start respecting money—and the people who have it—you will not achieve your goal. You say you want to relocate to New York. Well, start playing like it. Where you live, it is about God. Here, it is about money and credit. When in Rome, you need to do as the Romans do. You will get nowhere if you continue criticizing wealth and money. So what if rich people will not enter the kingdom of heaven? While they are here, they are the landlords. You need to start playing by the rules if you want what they control.

Money and credit are wonderful things. If you simply changed your thinking, you could rent the apartment you want, buy nice furniture, go out to eat every night and possibly attract a pretty wife. With good credit, you could buy beautiful entertainment systems and cars without putting down the full amounts, allowing you to enjoy your life without spending all your cash. Can’t you see this? Why do you persist in living like a hermit? Why can you only show an income of 12 shekels per year? Why are you unemployed? And why do you delude yourself with the thought that with God, all things are possible? You must see that you are wrong. Without money and credit, you can accomplish nothing. Belief does not matter. Please try to understand that.

I am sorry to be so frank with you, Mr. Christ. At present, it is simply impossible for you to rent or purchase property in New York City. You have no income, no credit and no savings. You do not even have potential income because you are an unemployed wanderer. You told me that your father is the “Lord of men,” but you could not provide his name, social security number, income, employer, home address or credit score. Your father may be a wonderful man, but he cannot be a guarantor without verifying his income and credit. Based upon your writings to me, I must tell you that you will never succeed in your goals. You think that your belief in God alone will land you in a New York apartment. You are sadly mistaken. Unless you can verify an annual income of at least $100,000 per year with a healthy credit score and bank statements, you will not be approved. I hope you can understand this. If this is disappointing to you, I suggest that you adopt our credo, namely: With money and credit, all things are possible.

We wish you all the best in your future endeavors. Please do not hesitate to contact us again if you attain suitable income and credit levels in the future. We are always willing to work with people with enough money and credit to actually do business. At present, you are not such a person. Thank you for your interest in Happy Habitats.

Yours truly,

A. George Gelders, Senior Consultant