Calling race a “social construct” does not mean that the biological ancestry — and specifically West African ancestry — of African Americans is mythical. It also doesn’t mean that my ancestry has no actual implications. (See the map of sickle-cell density above.) And in the future, it may mean even more. Ancestry — where my great-great-great-great grandparents are from — is a fact. What you call people with that particular ancestry is not. It changes depending on where you are in the world, when you are there, and who has power.
Despite the fact that constructivism is the dominant perspective on nationalism (only instrumentalist, which could be thought of as a peculiar subtype of constructivism, rivals it) in academia, it’s one of the toughest concepts for many students to grasp. Especially since so many academic works implicitly rely on primordial it’s assumptions whenever they tackle ethnicity, culture, religion, or other similar concepts. And especially if they do so in quantitative studies.
From theatlantic:
America is far less served by the endless recitation of calls made and talking points issued than it would be by a hard look at the members of Congress that failed to provide resources, and the bureaucratic hurdles that kept the resources that were available from being deployed. The breathless search for a cover-up has only served to bury those real — and potentially deadly — problems.
Read more. [Image: Reuters]
Yes.
(via Latin American geoeconomics: A continental divide | The Economist)
An interesting geopolitical and economic divide in the region.
Let me also add that I’ve never understood the ALBA treaty. None of the countries involved in it share borders (although Cuba and Haiti are very close—but not stellar trade partners in any case). On that score alone, the Pacific Alliance seems to have a decided advantage. Most members share a border with another member, with the exception of Mexico—but this could be made up by its sheer volume. Additionally, even with the size of Chile’s economy, overall it seems like the Pacific Alliance is more balanced even than Mercosur (which saddles up giants like Brazil with middleweights like Argentina and featherweights like Paraguay and Bolivia).
The one saving grace, of course, is that most ALBA members are also Mercosur members. And Mercosur makes a lot more sense than ALBA.
Besides, I always assumed ALBA was really just a way for Venezuela to play regional hegemon (since Brazil is so clearly top dog in Mercosur).
Still, it’s curious to see Latin America essentially split along Atlantic/Pacific dimensions into two potential rival trade blocs.
Austerians don’t get off on other people’s suffering. They, for the most part, honestly believe that theirs is the quickest way through the suffering. They may be right or they may be wrong. When Krugman says he’s only worried about ‘premature’ fiscal discipline, it becomes largely a question of emphasis anyway. But the austerians deserve credit: They at least are talking about the spinach, while the Krugmanites are only talking about dessert.
Paul Krugman’s Misguided Moral Crusade Against Austerity by Michael Kinsley (via thenewrepublic)
Perhaps.
But here’s a historical analogy that I remember from an ancient civilizations class so many years ago. The anecdote was so radically counter-intuitive to anything I had ever been taught, that it blew my mind. I’ve been thinking about citizenship and democracy in different ways ever since. It’s a story about the Roman Republic.
As a republic, Rome relied on citizen-armies to fight its wars. When Rome was setting off for war, the male citizens would gather in the Field of Mars (the god of war). Military needs would dictate the number of troops that needed to be raised for a campaign. Then, the citizens would be drafted, one by one, until they made up the requisite number.
But here’s the counter-intuitive part: Because Rome’s was a citizen-army, the citizen-soldiers had to provide their own military equipment. So the wealthiest citizens were always drafted first. (According to my professor, in the history of the Roman Republic the poorest class of citizens were never drafted.) Even when they fought, the wealthier (better armed) citizens always took the front ranks.
This seemed to me remarkable. The wealthiest Roman citizens held the most power in the republic. Only they could enter the Senate or hope to serve as consuls or tribunes. And yet they were the most exposed to the risks of war. Because those who exercised the most power also bore the greatest responsibility—and put their own skin in the game.
Today, America’s military is predominantly manned by the lower social classes. Few members of the social elite ever enter military service. Not surprisingly, austerity politics has followed suit. We’re more likely to cut services for the poor than subsidies for the wealthy or middle class.
I wonder. Would an average ancient Roman citizen even recognize our system as a “republic”?
BTW, it’s perhaps not immaterial to point out that the Roman Republic lasted nearly 500 years (that’s almost three centuries longer than the US has existed). By around 50 BC or so, the citizen-army model gave way to “professional” militaries, often recruited from among the poor. These private armies served under individual (wealthy) generals—like Julius Caesar, who gave us the Roman Empire.
From npr:
The U.S. will soon begin to open combat positions to women. That’s already the case in Israel, where women say it is an important step but doesn’t guarantee full equality. The military’s upper echelons remain male-dominated.
— Women In Combat: Some Lessons From Israel’s Military : Parallels
Photo: Larry Abramson/NPR
Because American politics is so closely tied (via foreign policy commitments and for ideological and cultural reasons) to Israel, it’s a case that should be more integrated into the general “comparative” canon of cases. Their civil-military relations are particularly interesting—and perhaps relevant as an alternative model of what “citizenship” means.
Domestic workers … know when one of their employers would rather spend four hundred dollars on a pair of shoes than pay them a living wage, because they watch it happen. It’s a brutal reminder of inequality.
From westernhemisphereanalysis:
From the WashPost, how Latin America voted on the UN Syria resolution this week.
Fairly predictable, on the whole. Though I am somewhat surprised by Brazil and Uruguay (I would’ve expected a “yes” vote). But, in Brazil’s case, it’s probably hedging bets. Brazil wants to be the regional power. It wouldn’t be good to start off choosing sides. Interesting.
From globalvoices:
A fascinating map of the world’s most and least racially tolerant countries
Via Washington Post
I’d really like to look more closely at these surveys. But, then again, I’m not one to trust surveys too much. Why? Because people will often answer a survey based on their knowledge of what they’re supposed to say.
For example, I find it hard to imagine that less than 4.9% of Americans really wouldn’t mind if people from another race moved into their neighborhoods. Several decades of “white flight” and suburbanization suggests otherwise.
Here’s an interesting test: Did you go to either a private or a suburban public high school? Was it mostly white? When was it founded? If you answered yes to the first two questions, I’m pretty sure your school was built shortly after schools were desegregated. The key dates are 1954 and 1971. The first is the year that Brown v. Board of Education was decided. The second is the year that Swann v. Charlotte-Mecklenburg Board of Education introduced forced bussing within school districts to achieve racial balance in public schools (although “white flight” had already begun in earnest in the 1960s). A lot of new private and suburban schools suddenly popped up around that time.
Here’s some examples. This is a list of private schools in Mississippi (pulled from Wikipedia) and their founding dates:
There were many others that simply didn’t have Wikipedia pages. But in this sample, 11.8% were established in the 150 years of statehood that preceded Brown v. Board; the other 88.2% were established between 1959-1972 (the era of public school desegregation). And that’s not even counting the new suburban school districts that suddenly popped up in the 1960s and 1970s.
I should add that this patterns is not unique to Mississippi. It’s pretty true throughout the US, one either side of the Mason-Dixon line. Find a list of private schools in your state on Wikipedia, and then look up their founding dates (if available).
Steven Harper: I think it’s a number of different factors. I certainly wouldn’t let students off the hook. I think that when you have a confirmation bias and you’re reluctant to view the world in a particular way other than the way you want to view it, you have to take some responsibility for what happens. And increasingly there is greater transparency. I think a second factor, to a very large degree has been law school deans. For many years, a vast majority of them pander to the criteria that go to rankings. Some of them are very destructive to the profession and to the students involved. And then there’s the third thing too that’s fueling all of this, and that has to do with the free flow of government money. Don’t get me wrong, I could not have gone to law school had it not been for student loans, and I had plenty of them by the time I came out, but the difficulty now is that there’s no real accountability between the behavior of deans who are really determined to increase enrollments, and the outcomes for their students in terms of not being able to repay their student loans or get jobs that are sufficient to allow them to repay their student loans. If you default on a student loan, the federal government backs it up and the law school is not out a penny as a result of any of that.
Headed to Law School? Lower Your Expectations | PBS NewsHour
I get a lot of students who describe themselves as “pre law.” I often do try to dissuade them from law school—or at least to consider alternatives. Not because I don’t think they could “do the work” (most of them probably could), but because they often have unrealistic expectations of what lawyers do (and also unrealistic expectations of the odds of landing a good paying job). I suspect Harper’s book, The Lawyer Bubble: A Profession in Crisis, is probably mandatory reading for “pre law” students.
BTW, not sure many students know this. But the ABA (American Bar Association) doesn’t recommend political science as a good pre-law major (although it is on the list of “traditional” pre-law majors, including history, philosophy, economics, and English). Instead, the ABA recommends a broad liberal arts education.
Mainstream political science is a fine discipline. But I’m not sure it’s very good for preparing lawyers. After all, law is about interpreting documents or essentially doing individual case studies. I’m not sure how know about how politics “works” (which may have little to do with what the law “says”) or how to execute statistical models would be helpful in any kind of litigation.
From npr:
In Cisco’s Classroom Of The Future, Your Professor Is Just An Illusion
New telepresence software could let you take a class from anywhere and appear as if you’re in the classroom.
Full Story: FastCoExist
Cool. Yet, is it really cool? —Wright
Cool and not cool at the same time.
This kind of technology has tremendous possibilities, and not just for education. But sticking to education, it has the potential to have cross-institutional collaborations and make learning much more dynamic. Imagine if I could bring in a guest lecturer without having to fly him/her in. Imagine if two professors from different institutions could collaborative teach a course together, giving their students a shared experience. Imagine if students in China, the US, and Brazil could take a course on globalization simultaneously. That’s really cool.
But based on my experience in higher education, I know exactly how administrators will choose to use this technology: As a cost-saving device. Imagine 21st century technology being used to replicate static learning models. That’s basically the model. Let’s take one professor (perhaps someone with a great “brand” behind him/her) and have this person give lectures accessible to hundreds or thousands of students, on the cheap. The model presumes little interaction, little ability to discuss, and demands passive learning. You’ve taken 21st century technology and recreated the 19th century lecture and mashed it together with the early 20th century correspondence course. At some point, what distinguishes a “course” like this from a (carefully) curated series of TED talks? Or an audio (or, rather, video) book?
I currently teach a hybrid course that involves about half of my students being in another room at another (satellite) campus. Here’s the problem with that experience, and what is lost in the process: When I taught “intro to comparative” (POL 102) I mixed in lectures with small group discussions with in-class simulations with group projects. The dynamic nature of the class (strengthened simply by my being there) soon meant that we were all engaged in discussions. Because I am not there at the satellite campus, I can’t do any of the above (although I did try one group projects, with some success). If I do the interactive things with the students in front of me, I’m being grossly unfair to the other students. The simple and fair solution is to offer a “standardized” format to all students. This means lectures. And because the technology hasn’t really caught up to the vision, it means I have two choices: 1) Stand still and deliver a lecture or 2) Provide a voice-over for my PowerPoint presentation. I can’t do both. The screen is either on me or the PowerPoint (except for the students in my presence, who do get to see both me and the PowerPoint).
This produces two problems: If my presences as an instructor is reduced to a static lecture, with few (if any) questions, then the students would benefit more from my being able to carefully prepare, edit, and polish those lectures. Instead, I’m essentially giving about 27 live, differently scripted performances (that’s about one full television season, which also uses 50 minute blocks, except without any of the writers, editors, postproduction). If I focus on the PowerPoint presentation (which I did this semester), then the problem remains. Wouldn’t a carefully edited and polished video slideshow be better than a live PowerPoint presentation? In either case, a “taped” version of my lecture/slideshow would allow students to rewind, review, etc.
This semester, I even had two satellite campuses, with one single student at the third campus. That meant this student had absolutely zero interaction with any classmates. Other than the fact that this was a live performance, structurally this wasn’t any different from someone coming in on a set schedule to watch a one-hour program on a small screen in front of him. In the age of DVRs, we don’t even do that for quality television.
Don’t get me wrong: On the whole, my students (yes, including the satellite students) are pretty good. I’m not an easy grader (I do give a good number of Fs). But a lot of my students do seem to enjoy the course (or so they tell me) and they do well on most of the materials (and they’ve gotten progressively better each semester, I might add). The support staff that runs these “hybrid” classrooms is superb, and I would certainly flounder without them.
But let’s be honest. This is not teaching at its best. Perhaps it does provide better “access” to education (but so does Wikipedia, TED, etc.—and all without charging any tuition). But it puts the instructor in a pretty narrow straightjacket. Despite all the technology around me, I know that in that classroom I do my worst teaching. Don’t get me wrong. I try. I try really, really, really hard.
Perhaps some day the technology will overcome these obstacles. But it will require thinking about how these technologies can make learning truly more collaborative. Not how they can replicate the 19th century lecture and package it like a 20th century correspondence course.