Travel – Page 50 – a sibilant intake of breath

Late December London Expedition

Happy Birthday Gabe Mastico

Preface

Yet another perspective upon the blog has reinforced the sense that people see it as a kind of elongated lament, or, at least, a complaint. Almost without reservation, that is used as a way of suggesting ingratitude. How can you be in such a place and yet dare to be unhappy? It’s that judgmental edge that troubles me.

My response to this is twofold. Firstly, I am not anywhere near so troubled as people seem to think the blog indicates. That is partly a reflection of how, and I am sorry to admit it, the blog is thoroughly sanitized. It is a drama – more of a dramatic reenactment of a life than a direct account thereof. The reasons for that must be obvious. Real lives are boring, especially when they revolve around pubs and libraries. Likewise, real thoughts jar in people’s minds. They provoke negative emotions, recriminations, jealousies, and the rest. The line to walk is one between honesty of direct statement and honesty of intention. The fact that even carefully worded entries are so frequently misunderstood is a reminder of why this must be done.

The second part of the response is to raise the question of what leads to happiness. Certainly, being involved in a worthwhile enterprise is a great boon. Some of the frustrations of the program circumscribe that, but certainly do not reduce it to such a point as some people seem to believe. Ultimately, I want the freedom to launch my own inquiries and begin tackling questions from my own direction and on the strength of my own arguments. This is what I thought grad school would be. Additionally, I am troubled by the increasing evidence that the meritocracy that feeds this place is a kind of sham. It’s not that people haven’t worked very hard to be here. Everyone here is clever and nobody is really lazy. At the same time, nobody is particularly disadvantaged either. Certainly, they have done more than people with comparable advantages – even people with greater ones – but they are not drawn from all the corners of humanity. We come from the corners of similar streets. Seeing that further increases my admiration of people like Viktoria Prokhorova, as well as Kerrie and Noral Hop Wo, who are out there working very actively to help mitigate some of the problems and injustices in the world.

Finally, the non-signposted part. The vital foundation of human happiness, at least for me, is in being surrounded by people who you care about. While I’ve made some really interesting friends here, there simply can’t be the kind of emotional depth that allows you to confront frustration, disappointment, loneliness, or anger. Those kind of anchoring relationships take years to form and are not lightly left behind, thousands of kilometres away. Also, life becomes much more animated when it is based around some shared romantic project: a tackling of problems together, a sharing of disparate interests and areas of knowledge, and the development of an identity that is at least provisionally shared. The lack of any such project is an impediment to realizing potential: both for achievement and enjoyment.

In hopes that this might help my perspective be more easily understood, I shall proceed.

Two Days in London

Unsure of when we were meant to meet, I lingered in Oxford on Wednesday until I got a call from Ian (Dr. Ian Townsend-Gault of the UBC Law School, to be formal about it). It was then a scramble to the train station – where news of a delay was conveyed – and thus to the bus station. Even allowing a three minute pause to buy an Oyster card, I made rather good time to the house in Islington where we had dinner with Ian’s uncle-in-law, two of the uncle-in-law’s daughters, and another family member. Apparently, the house belongs to one of the members of the Barnes and Noble families, of book selling fame. Ian’s uncle-in-law also seems to have led a fascinating life: interviewing Mao in 1941, while living in China, for instance. The house was certainly nicely adorned with art, as well as being well saturated with interesting conversation.

Included in that conversation was an invitation to meet Ian’s uncle-in-law’s ‘circle’ at a pub in London today. While I accepted enthusiastically, having heard them universally described as a highly interesting group, it did not work out in the end. Despite arriving my standard fifteen minutes early and waiting a full hour and a half at what I am certain was the right pub, nobody I recognized arrived. I even conducted five complete reconnaissance missions through the whole pub looking for them. After the staff began to universally direct scowls of disapproval in my direction (despite having bought a drink some time ago in an attempt to placate them), I eventually departed. Perhaps I misunderstood something about the place and time where we were to meet.

But, I am getting ahead of myself. After the fine dinner and interesting conversation, I spent the night at the flat of another former student of Ian’s. After waking at an hour I usually strive to avoid, I accompanied him to Victoria Station and the Heathrow Express before making my ultimately ill-fated trek to Mulligan’s. My thanks go out to Ian, once again, for his hospitality, as well as his overall – and very welcome – way of listening to you. Neither patronizing nor overpowering, I have always appreciated it.

After abandoning my vigil at the pub, I met Michelle Bourbonnais: a young woman with whom I graduated from UBC, who was also part of my international law seminar with Michael Byers, and who is low living and working in London. We met at the Tate Modern and took a wander through the newly reorganized galleries. Everything has shifted around since I went there with Sarah Johnston in September. I couldn’t even find two of my favourite pieces: a spherical, organic looking sculpture evocative of a shell (used as one of my LiveJournal icons) and an animated film from South Africa called A History of the Main Complaint.

One new piece that Michelle and I both enjoyed was a large abstract painting done by Joan Mitchell. The work is untitled, and I found it particularly captivating insofar as it includes the kind of patterns that your brain tends to just mark off as ‘very complex,’ unless, for some reason, you choose to really delve into them, or are compelled to. The impossible intricacy of an oil spot on cement you cannot really delve into until you can cut off the part of your brain that trivializes and ignores it. Then, you can just wander down its avenues – each filled with ephemeral epiphanies about the nature of space and perception.

After wandering back across the Millennium Bridge towards Saint Paul’s, we walked to Covent Garden and spent a couple of hours conversing in a place indelicately called ‘The Coal Hole.” Along with the traditional smoky pub atmosphere, it had the noteworthy flourish of a collection of friezes near the ceiling: cross-illuminated and made from something resembling white marble. It was a curious touch, but an appreciated one. It was certainly good to see and speak with Michelle. I was in good spirits when I boarded to coach back to Oxford at Victoria Station.

PS. I am reading an excellent new book, but let that be a subject for a later post. I’d rather get back to it than yack about it, right now.

Demure day

The possibility of having to walk through snow to reach the Library Court showers was realized for the first time today. As described on Ruth Anne’s blog, we got a dusting last night that has not endured through the warmer part of the day. Indeed, having to tramp through it in bare feet was actually proof of my waking up acceptably early. I was initially alerted to this unexpected meteorological phenomena by Tanushree’s audible jubilation this morning; my fellow Wadham inhabitant had not previously encountered snow. It’s rare enough for Vancouverites, as well. I wouldn’t mind getting a foot or so of it at some point, if only so I could zip around Oxford getting photos that look at least a bit different.

I heard, but did not see, that Abra – one of the Canadian law students here – has returned to Library Court: increasing the population by 50% over yesterday. No indication yet of where Nora is, though I am quite sure she has returned to the U.K. from North Carolina. The prospect of re-population is a welcome one, as is that of trying the recipe for dahl that Tanushree gave me today. Perhaps an upcoming New Year’s party will provide it. I’ve been a fan of lentils for as long as I can recall, and could certainly make use of some additional protein.

Tomorrow, I am making my third trip to London since arriving in the UK, as well as my second for which the city itself is my objective. In the evening, I will be meeting with ITG, but I will probably go a bit earlier and take a wander through the Tate Modern and a few other places. Perhaps there will be some opportunity to meet with Sarah Johnston, if only for a quick cup of coffee.

Having tallied up the surprisingly high cost of the Baltic jaunt, I must actively try not to further increase a credit card bill that has already become somewhat daunting. At the same time, I need to resist the urge to overcompensate by falling back on a cheese and bagels diet (which I’ve sworn off, for now) or complete social isolation. With snap peas 80% off, after Christmas, there is no need.

There was one nice thing that happened this evening, but this isn’t really the place to discuss it.

People concerned with putting images on the web might find this page interesting and useful. It’s about the nuts and bolts behind different image formats. In particular, the discussion of the specifics of JPEG compression is probably useful for digital photographers.
If you are younger than 30 today and living in the developed world, you are likely to be alive when the human population peaks: at around ten billion people, around 2050. It’s an astonishing thought, and a welcome one, given that slowing population growth should increase our ability to reduce poverty, and decrease the strain we are putting on the planet’s resources.
Finally, I love The Economist‘s Christmas issue. It’s full of exactly the kind of wonderful, obscure facts that prompt people to ask “How do you know that?” in astonished tones, when you relate them. If you buy only one issue a year, this is the one to choose.
General Sir Rupert Smith, who I saw speak in late October, has a new book on the changing character of war out: The Utility of Force. It seems to have been well reviewed, and has consequently been added to my ever-lengthening discretionary reading list.

On the ‘bombs and rockets’ side of IR

This afternoon, I got an invitation to attend a briefing on the final recommendations of the Bi-National Planning Group: one of the bodies that we met with in Colorado as part of the NASCA trip. Formed after September 11th, 2001, their mandate is to investigate security cooperation between Canada and the United States and make recommendations for improvements. They have been involved with projects like the Smart Border accord. While I obviously will not be able to go, I encourage the other NASCA participants to attend, if they can manage it. The briefing Dr. Baker gave us in Colorado Springs was certainly a solid demonstration of the good work that the BPG has been doing. When writing the report (PDF), I remember the BPG as an organization that received nearly universal praise. I look forward to reading their final report on enhanced military cooperation, once it gets released in May.

In a related point, I think I should start attending the meetings of the Oxford Strategic Studies Group, as I know some members of the IR M.Phil program have been doing. Much as I try to concentrate on environmental politics, the international use of force is obviously and permanently central to the study of international relations. As an IR scholar, you would never go hungry with war as your area of interest, especially since the pervasive ‘war on terror’ began. The fact that the strategic studies group meets at All Souls is also a significant point in favour of attending.

For me, environmental politics and strategic studies have a number of common factors that are appealing. They involve interaction with professionals who, as a social scientist (a term I remain skeptical about), you need to understand but not replicate. Scientists and soldiers are both fascinating kinds of people for me. They are endowed with specialist knowledge, which inevitably carries cachet for someone embedded in academia. They are also pleasantly straightforward and expected to be. That’s the reason why our NORAD / NORTHCOM briefing was so satisfying, as conversations with military people of all ranks from both countries have generally been. Speaking with Major General Lewis Mackenzie or cadets at West Point, you get the sense that they are at least making honest arguments that they genuinely want you to understand. Their apparent candour makes a nice contrast with the fiddly, theoretical bits of politics that seem to fascinate some of my friends and colleagues and that mostly just exasperate me. The same goes for scientists: whether those working at the UBC Fisheries Centre, people involved in the Northern Contaminants Program and Stockholm Convention, or others. Part of that comes from being unusually willing to admit when something is uncertain: perhaps the true mark of professionalism in such disciplines.

Another appealing commonality is the obvious possibility of making real-world improvements in both our approach to the environment and to war. These aren’t just areas that we should study for the sake of understanding better. We need to step beyond that and direct that understanding towards improvement. Again, the kinds of philosophical arguments that assert that such progress is impossible – that, in some complex way, such efforts are self-defeating – are exasperating to me. If we can significantly reduce the number of people who get malaria or AIDS, who suffer malnutrition from depleted fisheries, or who get killed by unexploded munitions, we’ve taken concrete steps towards a more just, more preferable world. Ultimately, that’s what I want to be a part of.

Anticipating the next holiday

When places are largely devoid of people, they often feel at their most pure. It conforms to a kind of open-space ideal that at least some of us have built into ourselves. It’s the same aesthetic drive that made the clay hills we found on the Arizona Road Trip so compelling, as well as the view from Crown Mountain or the overlook near Petgill Lake. While it can certainly be creepy – especially in spaces that are fundamentally public, like city streets – it can also be empowering and evocative of thought. I certainly have plenty to think about, as I carry on trying to plow through my huge pile of vacation books. One of the slimmest, the Very Short Introduction to Cryptography by Fred Piper and Sean Murphy, I have now finished. While it was interesting, it certainly was not worth buying. In the future, I will make furtive attempts to lurk inside Blackwells (or even a library) and digest a few more of these volumes without having to shell out for them.

The search is beginning now for some kind of New Years plan. Apparently, ITG is going to be in London at some point quite near the end of the month. For those who don’t know who I am talking about, Ian Townsend-Gault taught my international law class at UBC, for which the original version of the infamous fish paper was written. He also helped me considerably to bring it forward to the point where it was rejected by a journal no less esteemed than Marine Policy. Dr. Hurrell says that it could probably be tightened in scope and re-submitted, but I haven’t the energy for another attempt just now. The point of the introduction, in any case, was not the paper but the person. Indeed, I am starting to see the hazy outline of some kind of an end of month plan.

My mother has said that I am welcome to stay in London for a night or so with her friend and former roommate Lessia. Additionally, I have a helpful standing offer from Chris Yung of spending a night on his couch. Given the determination that Claire and I have mutually expressed to find something interesting to do in order to usher in 2006, this may provide the necessary logistical base. If people are aware of specific, interesting things that are happening, I would appreciate the information. More precise plans will have to wait for Claire’s return from Kent. With the return to Oxford of Margaret, Emily, Alex, and others, this will become a much more active place. (And one in which I am even less likely to read a good amount about neorealism.)

Anyhow, I must be back to my books.

Anyone computationally minded should have a look at this amusing comic. This episode is also interesting, as is this one.
My PGP Public Key is now hosted on this server.
Tony has a post on why having daughters seems to make people more left wing.
Some of the jokes posted as comments on the last entry are pretty good, though one is a reminder of how I have a statistics exam in eighteen days. Prior to then, I need to borrow a graduate robe again – since exams here are written sub fusc – and figure out just what kind of statistics they mean to test us on. Anyone from the M.Phil program interested in forming a study group?
It looks like Zandara is having an interesting road trip. She has some photos posted.
After a particularly unsettling post yesterday, Frank’s blog has vanished. I hope he is ok.
Here’s an interesting article from The Economist on some of the connections between law and health. I would be especially interested in knowing what some of my medically inclined friends (Astrid and Lindi) think of it. Clearly, the health care system risks being rife with perverse incentives – such as the ones that strongly discourage drug companies from developing products like new contraceptives or vaccines – and poor approaches to problems – like using juries with no particular medical knowledge to make decisions about complex, technical questions. While the solutions to such problems aren’t evident, it strikes me as particularly important that we work on finding some.
After difficulty and labour hard, the sidebar now renders properly in every browser except IE 5.2, for Mac. The extent to which I will sleep better at night is considerable.

Merry Christmas, to family and friends around the world

I am really excited about this vegetarian cookbook from Hilary. Emboldened, this afternoon, I bought materials for an exceptionally healthy Christmas dinner. I have red peppers and potatoes and garlic and ginger, pita and hummous and tofu and potatoes, sugarsnap peas in pods, tomato basil soup, and hot sauce. While I’m not entirely sure how they will combine, I am entertained by the sheer novelty of making things more elaborate than sandwiches. All this matter was acquired along the course of a long sweep from Wadham out to the end of the shops on Cowley Road, and then back by means of the large Sainsbury’s, near Nuffield.

Among my other books, the Hume guide leaves something to be desired, though the introduction to cryptography is informative – most notably for the use of good examples and analogies. Tonight, aside from a few culinary experiments, I should dedicate myself to finishing the issues of The Economist that piled up in my absence, as well as the books that demand completion before the next term begins. Also wise would be to write a few of the letters that I had been postponing until the anticipated leisure of the inter-term break was at hand.

My immediate family is traveling now, I think, towards North Carolina, where they will be spending the next little while visiting members of my extended family. Other members of that group are in Toronto, Bennington, Prague, and elsewhere. My friends are in England, across Canada and the United States, in New Zealand, Australia, Japan, Ecuador, China, Ghana, and elsewhere. My best wishes extend to all of them.

Perhaps it is a bit hypocritical for me to attribute an importance to Christmas, when I do not subscribe to the faith to which it is attached. At the same time, Christmas has never really been a matter of faith in my family but rather, and at its best, a time to celebrate and reinforce our ties to one another. Only insofar as it is social – a collective enterprise – is life in this world pleasant and purposeful. My sincerest thanks extend to all those who have let me participate in their enterprises and understand their purposes, and with whom I have been able to share my own. May you all feel connected to one another, tonight.

The Lesson of the Tallinn Occupation Museum

One lesson you cannot help taking away from the Occupation Museum in Tallinn is that the protection of individuals from government is one of the most essential kinds of security. This is a point that is being completely missed in a wide variety of circumstances, especially as it relates to the so-called “War on Terror.” The question is not whether the government can protect citizens from terrorism, but what the ultimate balance of risks should be. Perhaps giving powers for increased surveillance or ease of detention decreases the likelihood of suffering a terrorist attack, though that is by no means proven. What it certainly does is increase the danger of the arbitrary and unjust use of force against civilians.

Given the enormous power and resources of government, the danger that it is capable of posing to citizens is extraordinary. That is why governmental accountability is absolutely essential. All power entrusted to government simply must be granted in conditional fashion: subject to revocation should it be abused. In turn, the only way we can be aware of the presence or absence of abuse is through public, civilian oversight. Government cannot be trusted to regulate itself, because to do so it to instantly accept a kind of de facto tyranny. Without knowing what is being done, supposedly on our behalf, we run the risk of being subjected to unjustified and difficult to reverse power grabs. There is almost incontrovertible evidence that this has taken place, in almost every developed country, since September 11th. Once again, this point is largely being lost in political debate in the west. As I wrote in the the NASCA Report (PDF), submitted to the Canadian Department of National Defence:

Maintaining openness about the measures being put in place, as well as allowing independent examination and discussion of both threats and responses, is a crucial mechanism for ensuring that an appropriate balance is being struck on matters of security. It is worth recalling that security is always a trade-off: with costs of various kinds rising to greater or lesser degrees as safeguards are created. For those safeguards to be a justified and legitimate part of a democratic society, they must be subject to public awareness and scrutiny. (21)Protection of the individual from unreasonable or arbitrary power – in the hands of government and its agents – is a crucial part of the individual security of all citizens in democratic states. While terrorists have shown themselves to be capable of causing enormous harm with modest resources, the very enormity state power means that it can do great harm through errors or by failing to create and maintain proper checks on authority. (25)

While it’s personally satisfying to have presented a document including such sections to policy makers, I have no way of knowing whether it will ever be taken seriously.

Looking at the photographs above, affixed on the inside of one of a whole line of doors from secret prisons formerly operating in Estonia, drives home the the point of human vulnerability contrasted with the facelessness of power. It’s an image that should stick in our minds when we are choosing to confer legitimacy upon governments, or seeking to withdraw it.

Baltic Trip Photos: Fifth Installment, conclusion of the photo binge

The building on the Tallinn seafront that so bewildered Sarah and I. Apparently, it is an ice rink, bowling alley, and concert hall. I still think it looks like a bunker for storing chemical weapons. Photo taken in the Museum of Architecture, also near the port.

The upper gallery of the architecture museum.

One of the great many liquor stores in Tallinn.

High density residential building Sarah and I found while looking for lunch.

A step on the long road home: after the delayed flight and the car breakdown.

Baltic Trip Photos: Fourth Installment

If I fell in, I definitely hope these people would find me soon. Helsinki harbour.

A ship that seemed to be unloading coal, near the Cable Factory. The former factory is now a collection of art studios, galleries, and free schools – along with a French cultural centre.

Industrial park about two kilometres from downtown Helsinki.

A wok full of vegetables. Along with free salad and bread, this is probably the best eight Euro lunch in Helsinki. At the cafeteria in the Cable Factory.

Miscellaneous meters in the Cable Factory. I really like converted industrial buildings, like the excellent Tate Modern in London.

Journey completed, much to do

Now back in Oxford, I am a bit overwhelmed with how many tasks there are to be completed in the next little while. The first group of them is post-trip consolidation. That includes finishing up the running tally of expenses for Sarah and I and choosing a way to repay her the difference between our contributions. It includes doing laundry, unpacking, and dealing with a huge mass of mail: both electronic and physical.

Also to be completed are the buying of Christmas gifts, the reading of books of neo-realism, and the making of further and more extensive lists.

Just being back on my Mac makes me feel hopeful, however. The blog only looks truly right under Firefox in OS X. Let it be known to one and all that Internet Explorer is a lousy browser. Just look at all the idiotic bugs web designers need to deal with, knowing people will choose to view their pages in IE. After trying for hours to get the sidebar to always appear on the right hand side and not have wierd formatting errors in the lists, I am letting it be for now. For those of you still using Microsoft’s substandard browser, here is a glimpse of how the blog is meant to look:

For your own security (IE has as many security bugs as it does of other sorts) and for the sanity of amateur and professional web designers, please get Firefox. Once you install it, you probably won’t even notice the difference most of the time. When you do, it will be because you note with appreciation how much better a blog or other page now looks.

In Radlett, once again

After a great deal of travel, I’ve arrived in Radlett much later than expected. Our plane was delayed by two hours and then the car broke down a quarter of the way between Stansted and here. Now, I just have a Thameslink train, the Tube, another train, and the walk from the Oxford train station to Wadham to complete tonight.

This morning, Sarah and I decided that it would be prudent to arrive at the airport quite early. Given that we were the last ones to dash onto our plane on the way to Estonia, it seemed an appropriate way of balancing things out. Unfortunately, the flight was delayed considerably. Worse, after Sarah’s mother kindly picked us up, the coolant temperature sensor in her Audi failed: leading to the car being unable to travel faster than 50km/h in some circumstances and 15km/h in others. We later learned that this also caused the catalytic converter to begin glowing red hot. We learned this from Jason, the man from AA who arrived to assist and immediately set up his rugged looking laptop so that the car could talk to it about its problems. Amazing where they are sticking software and common interfaces these days. [Section removed. 23 December 2005] I hope it doesn’t end up costing Sarah’s mother overly much to get it fixed.

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