a sibilant intake of breath – Page 843 – climate change activist and science communicator; event photographer; amateur mapmaker — advocate for a stable global climate, reduced nuclear weapon risks, and safe human-AI interaction

With beaded bubbles winking at the brim

Not to open every post with a weather report, but the weather in Oxford today was stunning. Not quite ‘jacket optional’ stunning, but definitely getting close. As is often the case during really beautiful Oxford days, the sun was generally either shining through thin clouds or being reflected off of them. In either case, there was lots of bright, soft, warm-coloured light out there to enjoy.

This afternoon, after a morning of reading and sleeping in (following a 2:30am completion of the ORS application), I met with Margaret and took a walk through the surprisingly extensive grounds of St. John’s College. Neither of us had been there before and, while it is universally known to be rich, I was surprised to see just how extensive it is, as well. I didn’t count the quads and gardens, but the place is definitely of such a size that it is a small campus unto itself. It would take you a while to learn your way around.

As seems to be the norm for Friday nights, there was an MCR event tonight. In keeping with Wadham’s status (as Nora informed me tonight) as the 10th richest of the 39 Oxford colleges, there is some kind of Scotch event tonight, following the Burns Dinner whose Haggis I have opted out of. I shall make an appearance: as ever in the determination that this social foray will be a mere prelude to the intense academic and scholarly work the later portion of the night will involve.

About that, my foray to the Burns Night event became an expedition to Jericho with Andy, Abra, Dave, Bilyana, Briana, and others. From a pub in Jericho initially packed to the point of being almost shoulder to shoulder, we eventually shifted to a pseudo-New Year’s party at Green College that was equally well populated. Spending time with Wadham MCR people now, I feel partly as though – for various reasons – I have missed a term, in terms of forging social links within the college. My determination to correct the oversight can be taken as partial credit against my failure to actually complete the aforementioned scholarly and academic work tonight.

Lesson of the day: overcooking tortellini produces a smily mass that is essentially inedible. Sainsbury’s brand tortellini, I have since been told, is particularly vulnerable to such decomposition.
Tristan has some new photos up on his photo.net site. Taken at his family’s cabin, the contrast of the icy lake with my memories of our post-graduation retreat is striking.
I was delighted to learn, just now, that Allen Sens already sent off my second ORS reference letter. As small a chance as I have of getting it, I am glad to know that all the application materials are en route to Wellington Square.

Canadians go to the polls on Monday

With the election three days away, the news source I respect most has endorsed Stephen Harper and the Conservative Party. The Economist‘s argument is a straightforward one: the Liberals have become a problematic governing party as the result of corruption, internal divisions, and an ineffective Prime Minister. This is a sentiment I have frequently expressed myself. They portray choosing the Conservatives as a gamble, but one that is worth taking. As usual, it is a defensible position, though not one that I agree with.

Despite the extent to which it seems to have dominated this campaign, the sponsorship scandal has been overblown. The levels of money involved are fairly small and the furor needs to be set beside the strong governance record that the Liberals have had. We’ve had a long period of growth, low inflation, and the like. Whether the Conservatives would be able to perpetuate macroeconomic stability and economic growth of not, credit should be given to the Liberals for carrying it this far.

The second half of the equation is whether the Tories can be trusted in power. They have taken pains to at least appear different from the ugly face they took on during the teeth-gnashing days of the Canadian Alliance. Even so, it’s quite legitimate to ask whether things have really changed on the blue side of Canadian politics. One of Paul Martin’s best moments as PM was defending same-sex rights as an equality matter under the Charter:

The Charter was enshrined to ensure that the rights of minorities are not subjected, are never subjected, to the will of the majority. The rights of Canadians who belong to a minority group must always be protected by virtue of their status as citizens, regardless of their numbers. These rights must never be left vulnerable to the impulses of the majority.

That said, he could certainly have done more to shift Canada further towards a sensible policy on narcotic drugs (based on harm reduction among users and combatting the violence and organized crime that a criminalized drug trade spawns) and could generally have given a more impressive demonstration of leadership and direction. He could also have done rather more to repair Canada’s contribution to the international system.

Clearly, the Liberals are in need of rejuvenation and reform. Ideally, a new leader should emerge who is both more capable of delivering policy progress and less connected with all the advertising and Quebec ugliness that has tainted the present Liberal leadership. Perhaps a Conservative government is the only outcome that would allow the Liberals to reorganize. Indeed, giving Paul Martin another shot as Prime Minister would hardly send a message that change is required. Having a Prime Minister with a stronger connection to the west would probably be a good thing, and might serve to help counterbalance the self-obsession and cronyism that seem to be involved in Ontario and – especially – Quebec politics.

While it’s hard to predict the outcome of an election, it’s easier to predict what each possible outcome would resemble, at least in the medium term. A majority Liberal government looks out of the question, and would be a perverse outcome anyhow from an election in which they definitely failed to outmaneuver their opponents. A minority Liberal or minority Conservative government is the most likely possibility. Another Liberal-NDP coalition would be a return to politics as they have been lately, more or less. I am less certain what kind of coalition the Conservatives would form. Indeed, that might be the most mysterious possibility of all. A majority Tory government, while not impossible, also seems highly unlikely. Canada, it seems, is likely to end up with a muddle: a situation that definitely reflects my own feelings about this election.

Mihi Cura Futuri?

We had our first qualitative methods seminar today, and I am of a mixed opinion about it. 28 people in a lecture hall does not make for a very effective seminar format. Likewise, the discussion was unfocused and struck me more as messily attempting to identify the relevant issues, rather than dealing with them directly. With only two weeks to cover foreign policy analysis, perhaps it is inevitable that the coverage will not be comprehensive.

Part of the problem, I think, has to do with the limitations of the whole broad discipline of ‘international relations.’ We are in the business of quick and dirty answers. That’s fine, really, since we’re rarely interested in capital T truth. All international relations is done for a purpose – whether explicitly normative or not – and most of it relates to questions of a kind where a rigorous conception of truth simply doesn’t apply. Either our conclusions are so vague as to be untestable or our answer is only one of many potentially valid ones. For me, most of these apparent problems evaporate once you adopt an explicitly normative agenda. It doesn’t matter where the boundary between foreign policy analysis and international relations lies (if it even exists). Rather, we can pick and choose whatever tools are helpful for advancing an agenda. This strikes me as fundamentally more honest, and obviously less frustrating.

During the lecture, I also found myself thinking worriedly about exactly what I am going to do with all of this. The lack of a summer job and housing for next year is uncertainty enough for me, but that’s just peanuts compared to the big question of “What next?” Once I become Milan Ilnyckyj, M.Phil (Oxford), what am I going to do with myself? Going straight into a PhD seems unwise. It would be better to see a bit more of the world before making such a commitment. Working at something relevant and interesting, while writing, has a lot of appeal, but I really have no idea of how to bring it about.

Hilary Term Outline

15 Jan 06: Term begins
20 Jan 06: ORS application due
24 Jan 06: First paper for Andrew Hurrell due
31 Jan 06: First core seminar paper due
07 Feb 06: First qualitative methods take home exam
28 Feb 06: Second core seminar paper due
01 Mar 06: Two more scholarship applications due
07 Mar 06: Second qualitative methods take home examIndeterminate dates: 3-4 other papers for Andrew Hurrell
List subject to later additions

I paid another tranche of my Oxford fees today. I am now paid up for Hilary term: as far as battels, college fees, and university fees go. I will keep paying for all my groceries and as many other expenses as possible on my Canadian credit card, but it will definitely be necessary to make another expensive and time consuming bank transfer in order to pay next term’s fees. Then, I will be halfway done paying for the whole Oxford experience.

I think that Emily and others are right in thinking that the best job for me that is within reach has to do with either writing or editing. That said, I know nothing about the industry. I suppose I had better learn, if I don’t want to end up working in a computer shop or a pub this summer…

Apologies to those who read the Atom feed, but I had to switch it from full syndication to just snippets. The reason for this is that other pages keep grabbing my content and then using it to drive their own advertising. If I am going to pay for this URL and hosting this content, without even enabling advertising on this site, I definitely don’t want other people profiting off of it.
Many kudos to Google for not turning over their search records to the DOJ. If you’re serious about the commitment to “not be evil,” this is just the sort of thing you need to do. Not to mention, if you want to maintain the trust of thousands of people storing huge amounts of email with you (including most members of the Oxford M.Phil in IR program).
Here’s a question for my wise and tactful readers: my supervisor hasn’t been explicitly told about my blog. While the simplest of Google searches yields it immediately, the fact remains that he has been mentioned in it a number of times without necessarily knowing about it. Nothing personal, of course, but it’s still there. The question, therefore, is whether I should tell him directly. The relationship is an entirely professional and academic one, that hasn’t taken on any kind of extensive personal dimension. Otherwise, I would have probably told him long ago. No appropriate chance has arisen. Who can advise may speak.

“The thing you’re most proud of”

Last night, I had an extremely diverse collection of dreams. Most enjoyably, I dreamed about being in well-loved places with old friends: some of whom I haven’t seen in years. The strangest thing about such dreams is not how this familiar house can get transposed into that well known place or how these two friends, known years apart and who have never met, can appear together; rather, it’s how all these sorts of things can happen without eliciting surprise, often for several hours after you wake up, start drinking tea, and steel yourself for another day of academic reading.

After reading his entry about his father’s ‘journalling jar,’ filled with possible topics for journalling or blogging, I asked Tony whether I might make an attempt at one of them. The topic dutifully provided: “The thing you’re most proud of.” To me, this is an extremely straightforward question. Without a doubt, the thing I am most proud of is my group of friends.

Why does that come instantly to mind as my response? The reasons are both numerous and compelling. Firstly, one’s group of friends is not primarily a matter of chance. Anyone who lives in a city and goes to schools with 1,000 or 40,000 students has ample opportunity to meet people (though shyness and other factors may work against you). Even so, most people just glance off one another: interacting, perhaps, in some very brief and superficial manner before rebounding on diverging courses, perhaps to meet again in similarly anonymous circumstances. To meet people in the first place, therefore, takes both an application of effort and an acceptance of risk. The latter is especially significant for young people. The risk is generally one of ridicule or embarrassment, each of which stings a great deal for those lacking a solidly defined and defended identity. Indeed, I remember instances of severe embarrassment from five or ten years ago enormously better than those involving any other kind of harm.

Of course there is some element of chance involved in meeting people in such a way that you remember one another and seek each other’s company again. It helps to have one of the right sort of dispositions. It helps to have a memorable name or appearance. One cannot ever completely expunge chance from any complex human behaviour. That said, in this case it does not seem to me that chance is so serious a factor that it belittles the point I am trying to make. There’s nothing random about which people from around the world I would most like to come visit me here, or travel with somewhere else.

Spending the last four months or so in Oxford has been a reminder of another reason for which I am proud of my group of friends. Even with all my deficiencies with regards to long distance communication – my response to Meghan’s elegant letter from October still sits incomplete on my table – I have generally been able to maintain some kind of contact (perhaps infrequent, perhaps fairly concise) with almost everyone who I particularly want to know in ten and twenty years’ time.

I am proud of my friends because I feel them to be a diverse group and – critically – not one that would have assembled as it has without my involvement. One of the reasons for which I most enjoy throwing parties is because it gives me the chance to introduce people who might otherwise never see each other, but who are likely to have a connection. Introducing friends from one school or another, one group or another, or other combinations of times and places is a very gratifying experience. Perhaps that’s because it fosters the illusion of being central. Of course, there are many nodes to any social group (as many as there are participants, really) and there is a danger of this becoming some kind of Facebook-mimicking ‘look how many friends I have’ declaration. While that is related to what I mean, it has entirely the wrong tone.

The biggest reason for which I am proud of having developed the collection of friends I have is the way it changes the appearance of the future. In a profound and comprehensive way, a future that is peppered with people like Tristan, Jonathan, and Alison is much more easily embraced than one filled with faceless possibility. Partly, that’s the same sense of shared endeavour as is making the M.Phil program feel so rewarding. Partly, it’s the important knowledge that I will not be alone during the years ahead: perhaps the single greatest anxiety of the nervous extrovert.

In closing, I should stress one point that isn’t entirely obvious in the self-obsessed paragraphs above. This really is a remarkable group of people: honest, communicative, interesting, talented, and genuine. Every person who I call my friend impresses me in some way and has some capability that – even if I know I will never possess myself – I know myself to be the richer for having nearby. Likewise, I feel deeply indebted for all the instances of unprovoked generosity and aid that have taken place over the years. Particularly when I’ve been languishing in some sudden feeling of lingering solitude, it has been welcome indeed to be dragged off for a walk, a cup of coffee, or some more ambitious adventure.

Academic and non-academic reading

Ten January nectarines, a pound of red peppers, garlic, cherry tomatoes, and ginger: at Emily’s suggestion, I went to the Wednesday Market in Gloucester Green today. As I’ve said before, ‘green’ is a definite misnomer. That said, to get a sack of fruit and veggies for £5 makes for a nice contrast with Sainsbury’s.

Aside from reading, not a great deal happened today. In a productive piece of procrastination, I read Around the World in 80 Days. I hadn’t not read it before, but only heard parts of it read aloud during one of my family’s traditional trips down the Oregon Coast (on which both Jonathan Morissette and Kate Dillon accompanied me more than once). While rapidly digestible, it’s certainly not the most complex of novels: fuelled more, perhaps, on national stereotypes and an early anticipation of the consequences of globalization than on solid characterization or description. Verne’s frequent misunderstanding about knots – thinking them a unit of distance, rather than velocity – is particularly irksome, despite being only a very minor point. A steamer that goes “eight and nine knots the hour” would be going very fast indeed after a few days. Reading it after the demise of the British Empire, one cannot help being struck by a tinge of collective nostalgia. Collective because the British Empire is something I’ve only experienced by distillation, and by virtue of being Canadian.

Tomorrow, we have our first qualitative methods class. The three focuses are foreign policy analysis, interviewing, and archival research. All strike me as things likely to be useful.

No sign yet of the form I need for formally request exemption from future college meals. I will make a third request for one tomorrow morning.
Hardly anyone from Oxford is on my MSN contact list. If you want to be, send me an email, find my MSN username from my Facebook profile, or contact me by some other means. I am also on AIM and Skype.
Everyone back home is fixated on the new series of 24. I rather liked the first series, watching the whole thing twice, but found the second ridiculously implausible, in terms of politics. That said, their energetic accounts make me envious of those with television access: a very unusual feeling for me.
At times, we must all curse how there are no university run wireless networks in Oxford. The DPIR IT people tell us it’s because the colleges can’t agree how to do it: an explanation I believe, even as I find it frustrating. The iBook would certainly wander farther from my desk if it could talk to other machines from elsewhere. This is part of why Oxford’s continued devotion to old ideas and old rivalries will sink it in comparison to American schools in the next few decades, unless things change a great deal.
Seth’s blog directed me to a community of LiveJournal users all trying to get into Oxford. Take a look, if it interests you.

Real academic work has resumed

Lectures

Unfortunately, I missed the first Philosophy of the Social Sciences lecture today, because I didn’t know when it was happening. I learned when Marga Lyall sent me an email: 3/4 of the way through the lecture and I was busily writing up presentation notes on neorealism. It seems that most of the other M.Phils missed it as well, so I am not overly worried. It’s also a supplemental, rather than examined, piece of coursework – though it is mandatory.

The first core seminar went extremely well. Both Jennifer Welsh and the talkative David Williams provided good direction for what proved to be a very interesting discussion. The seminar opened with a brief discussion of what theory is and should be. I think it would have benefitted significantly from the presence of a philosopher or two, especially when questions about the nature of knowledge and science arose.

Somewhat uncharacteristically, I volunteered to present, as I felt myself to have a fairly strong grasp of the topic. It’s always nice to get these things out of the way, even when they are not explicitly for marks. My general sense afterwards is that the presentation went quite well, though the importance of them doesn’t extend too far beyond offering some starting point for discussion.

Strategic Studies Group

Tonight, there was a presentation on Saudi Arabia being made to the Oxford Strategic Studies Group (OUSSG) at All Souls. I attended along with Claire and Madgdy. The speaker was Colonel (Ret) Brian Lees and he spoke for about an hour about the various characteristics of the Saudi Kingdom: geographic, political, strategic, etc. It was an interesting summary, not dissimilar in overall content from the survey recently printed in The Economist, though notably more favourable towards the Saudi Royal Family.

Apparently, three positions have opened up on the executive committee of the OUSSG. Since I don’t have any experience with the group, the sensible position to aim for would be that of secretary. Consider this a formal declaration of candidacy. Since it is basically a communication and paperwork position, it seems an intelligent starting point for an outsider: as well as something relatively unlikely to be hotly contested. I spent about an hour after the talk and subsequent questions talking in The Turf with the current President, Secretary, Webmaster, and a number of members. They seem an interesting group and this seems a good way to expand my range of Oxford activities, as I have expressed the intent to do in previous posts. At ten Pounds for membership, it’s enormously more reasonably priced than the Union.

Later in the year, there is also a highly subsidized expedition to Brussels to see the European Parliament and NATO headquarters. It’s happening during the next inter-term break and it seems entirely sensible to part with three days of revision time and one hundred Pounds or so for such an opportunity.

Miscellaneous

With Philosophy of the Social Sciences lectures from 10:00 to 11:00, the core seminar from 11:00 to 1:00, the Changing Character of War series from 1:00 to 2:30, and Professional Training in the Social Sciences from 5:30 until 7:30, Tuesdays this term look as though they will be fairly hectic and good for displacing meals to awkward times.

This afternoon, I made a second written request for the form I need in order to make a written request to opt out of all future meals in college. Along with having NatWest make another bank draft and finishing the ORS application, I am well stocked with paperwork. As I’ve said before, completing a scholarship application we’ve been told that we have virtually no chance of winning is frustrating.

After much urging from Jessica, I’ve abandoned the buggy Mac version of MSN Messenger for the open source client Adium. It looks as though it will take some tweaking before it is working the way I want it to, but the general wisdom of avoiding Microsoft products (especially where the internet is concerned) is enough to make me stick with it, at least for now. The existence of an optional Hobbes (the tiger, not the philosopher) Dock icon is also a selling point. The default duck icon is just hideous. There is something rather nice about being able to use one relatively elegant program to access a diverse range of IM services, though I am only using it for MSN and AIM at the moment.

Apple has responded to the many people who complained about a spyware feature in the new version of iTunes. You are now able to decline installation of the component in question: an iTunes ‘Ministore’ to which information about any song you clicked on was sent. This goes to show both that some companies listen to their customers and that it isn’t so hard to address customer complaints after the fact. Well done Apple.

Elliot Cohen and the Canadian Forces

After the today’s core seminar, I went to a Changing Character of War presentation given by Professor Elliot Cohen. Focused on examining the American military, especially with regards to counterinsurgency operations in Iraq, if offered a familiar but well expressed perspective. All the standard big issues came up: public opinion, the differences between the branches of the military with regards to the conflict, current controversies, military relations with allies, private military firms, and the rest. I asked him afterwards about the perspective he has seen on the Canadian armed forces, among those serving in the United States. His response was a typical one: that they are good people profoundly hamstrung and sapped by a lack of financial and material support. The operational tempo of the Canadian Forces has never been higher relative to its capabilities. As Allen Sens so effectively conveys in his Canadian Foreign Policy lectures at UBC: by almost any measure, both long-term procurement and short-term funding are grossly inadequate.

Right now, Canada has about 62,300 active forces personnel (the 60th largest army in the world) and it is funded at the level of $12.9 billion per year. That is 1.1% of Canadian GDP. We have 114 tanks (obsolete, in Germany), about 300 infantry fighting vehicles, and about 1000 armoured personnel carriers. The Maritime Command has four Victoria Class submarines (diesel, obsolete), three Iroquois Class destroyers, and 12 Halifax Class frigates (the backbone of the navy) – all hampered by completely inadequate helicopter support. We also has 12 Kingston Class coastal patrol vessels, used for things like search and rescue and fisheries enforcement. That is one boat per 16,840km of coastline: the equivalent of 2.38 boats to patrol the entire circumference of the earth.

In terms of airlift capability, the best we have is 32 CC-130 Lockheed ‘Hercules’ combat transports. Stripped of all other cargo, they can carry two Light Support Vehicles (ie. jeeps). We entitled the 2005 International Policy Statement: A Role of Pride and Influence in the World, but when we sent the Disaster Assistance Response Team to Asia after the tsunami, we had to rely primarily on private chartered airlift to deliver the bulk of their equipment to the theatre of operations. We do have five CC-150 Polaris aircraft, but they are incapable of carrying large equipment and lack any defensive capability. One of the five was converted into a VIP transport during the 1990s and two more are slated to be converted into air-to-air refuelling vehicles.

At present, more than 1400 Canadians are deployed overseas: more than 1000 of them in Afghanistan as part of Operation Archer. To field a force of that size, about another 8000 individuals need to be in the process of preparing for deployment or returning from one. The next largest commitment is 190 troops serving in the UN Disengagement Observer Force (UNDOF) in the Golan Heights. The next largest operations are 32 people each in the Sinai and Sudan. Of the 15 missions ongoing, five involve ten or fewer people. Eleven involve fewer than 20, according to the Canadian Forces webpage. We may have opted to put Canadian peacekeepers onto some of the new pieces of currency, but we haven’t opted to put terrible many out there in the world. In those places we have, they are often equipped at an inadequate level: the lack of armoured jeeps in Afghanistan being a notorious example.

Canada likes to maintain an international image as a helpful fixer and a leader in peacekeeping. We expect to be treated as an equal by our allies and generally considered a contributing member of the internatioal community. We take pride in backing things like the worldwide land mines ban through the Ottawa Process and the concept of the Responsibility to Protect. If that’s a role we want to play – or at least an image we want to maintain – we’re going to need to commit the necessary resources.

While it’s not particularly clear that any of the political parties running in the present electoral campaign is serious about making that commitment, it’s something that Canadians should be asking about. Whether you support the military or not, whether you support peacekeeping and other forms of international military engagement or not, it seems clear that trying to do these things on the cheap is the worst of all strategies. It endangers the lives of those serving while not producing the security which is the object of the mission. Looking at the numbers above certainly makes Stephen Harper’s plan to militarize the Arctic seem particularly wasteful of scarce resources.

“Nothing is more deceitful,” said Darcy, “than the appearance of humility.”

Realism and neorealism

With a litre of dark coffee beside me and tables heaped with books, I can tell that the term has begun. During my core seminar tomorrow morning, there’s a one in seven chance that I will need to present for fifteen minutes on the differences between realism and neorealism. One approach, I suppose, would be to take Waltz’s conception of ‘thought’ as compared to ‘theory’ and build a presentation out of examining it. By a lucky coincidence, I have a copy of a take home exam for Robert Crawford’s international relations theory course written on that precise topic. You can get a sense of Crawford’s hostility to Waltz from the question itself:

In an obviously self-serving argument, Kenneth Waltz distinguishes between “thought” and “theory” in international relations. What is the basis for this distinction, and to what extent does it further, or undermine, the pursuit of knowledge in world politics?

I don’t know anything about David Williams, but I am pretty sure Jennifer Welsh is no neorealist. Come to think of it, she probably knows Robert Crawford.

I am decreasingly of the opinion that Waltz is ‘wrong’ in the sense normally applied to the word. It’s more that he has quite an unusual project. Waltz identifies theory as “a means of dealing with complexity” and goes on to say that “in making assumptions about men’s (or states’) motivations, the world must be drastically simplified; subtleties must be rudely pushed aside, and reality must be grossly distorted.” What he is doing is fundamentally more artificial than a straightforward attempt at getting a sense of how world politics works and how we might hope to change it. Indeed, that kind of unstructured approach is exactly what Waltz would categorize as “mere thought.” Hoffman says that: “Waltz’s own attempt at laying the groundwork for theory is conceptually so rigorous as to leave out much of the reality which he wants to account for.”

The danger arises when Waltz makes the same move as many sleazy economists. They build theories strongly abstracted from reality (high school dropouts have perfect understanding of the advanced mathematics involved in generating net present values, and other ludicrous assumptions) in the hope of developing a parsimonious explanation of a good part of the phenomena being observed. The devious step is when they come to love their models too well and carry on, by sheer momentum, applying them in situations where their own assumptions make them entirely invalid. Especially when making normative judgements or advocating policy, all those bits of real-world complexity that were deliberately forgotten need to be considered again. Likewise, there is the need for an awareness of how theory itself impacts the world. Otherwise, theory becomes nothing more than “an anti-political apology for brute force and cynicism” as Kalevi Holsti pointedly described neorealism.

Given the passions that tend to get inflamed both within supporters and opponents of neorealism when the subject gets debated, tomorrow’s seminar promises to be an interesting discussion. Indeed, among IR scholars, the position you take with regards to IR theory is one that goes a long way towards defining your personal and intellectual identity. As Robert Walker identified in 1986, theory is never a neutral thing: “Theory is always for someone, for some group, for some purpose.”

In the end, I would contend that ideas pertaining to vital questions about world politics are necessarily ‘thought’ as opposed to ‘theory’ as defined by Waltz. While he would probably agree, using the cover that theory can never be comprehensive, I don’t think that’s an adequate response: at least not if people are going to go around identifying themselves as neorealists. If neorealism is a partial explanation, it cannot comprise our whole intellectual outlook.

Richard Dawkins

Apparently, on Monday February 13th, there will be a lecture in London presented by Richard Dawkins. It’s entitled: “Darwin’s meme: or the origin of culture by means of natural selection” and I would be interested in going if I can find at least one other person who would also be so inclined. It is happening at the Darwin Lecture Theatre, Darwin Building, UCL, Gower Street, London at 6:30pm.

On a related note, Louise apparently knows Professor Dawkins’ daughter Juliet. Regrettably, I did not get the chance to meet either her or her father before Louise made the journey back to Lancaster. Along with Philip Pullman, Richard Dawkins is probably the Oxford resident who I would most like to meet.

To do in the next few days:

Prepare realism v. neorealism presentation (ASAP)
Opt out of another term of college meals in hall (ASAP)
Merifield application (Wednesday)
Complete ORS application, submit directly to University Offices (Friday)
Pay Hilary term fees and battels (Friday)

1000 Extra/Ordinary Objects

This afternoon, in little jots between reading Keohane and Waltz, I finished the coffee table style book that Margaret gave me for my birthday: 1000 Extra / Ordinary Objects. Edited by Peter Gabriel and part of the Taschen series, it’s much less innocuous than the title and skillfully photographed pages would suggest. Indeed, it deals constantly with themes of warfare, violence, oppression, and abuse. Throughout, objects intimately connected with some of the worst of human activities are presented, often ironically situated alongside a more innocent item with a thematic connection.

Jello is presented alongside a description of the mechanical slaughter of 6-month-old calves, from which it is made, and on the page beside a sauce designed to be used for flavouring dead animals found alongside the road. Packets of branded heroin adorn the same pages as chocolate bars. All told, the book presents a fairly disturbing picture of humanity: a glimpse into an image-obsessed, casually violent, and quite possibly seriously deranged collective.

As you would expect from a Taschen book, it is certainly elegantly presented. Each object is photographed under studio conditions, devoid of context except insofar as it is not provided by the sans-serif gray descriptive paragraphs – written in English and French. The tendency to associate even innocent objects with disturbing descriptions highlights the extent to which the book sets out to shock; the Pikachu doll comes accompanied with a description of how children were accidentally given epileptic seizures by a flashing light display in one episode of the Japanese television show. All this makes the strange Japanese products that are staples of the curious object genre seem particularly innocuous, by comparison. This book could easily be reformatted into a gallery show at the Tate Modern.

Contemplating the future

The Stardust Mission

One piece of exciting news today is the safe return of the NASA Stardust capsule, after a seven-year mission intended to collect dust from the tail of a comet. If the aerogel-filled compartments are, as expected, saturated with this material, it will be the first time such a thing has ever been collected and it may contribute important information to understanding the early solar system.

This is also the first mission since 1976 to return solid material from an extraterrestrial body: a measure both of diminished interest in the moon and the exceptionally longer distances involved in reaching other planets and asteroids.

Whereas there is a great deal of controversy about the usefulness and safety of manned space travel – especially the Shuttle Program – there are few people who contest the scientific usefulness of robotic exploratory missions. Indeed, there is a very satisfying record in the past few years of improved understanding of cosmic phenomena, both within and outside our solar system.

The really exciting prospect is the possibility of seeing new developments in particle and theoretical physics start to match up better with improved cosmological models. The biggest questions in physics today are probably the questions related to dark matter and energy, the explanation behind the profusion of subatomic particles that have been discovered, and the generation of a theory that is able to deal with the contradictions between quantum mechanics and relativity. While this mission doesn’t necessarily speak directly to any of those goals, it’s part of a process of improved data collection that feeds the development and testing of explanations. It seems likely that interesting times are ahead.

The second term schedule

On Tuesday, the second core seminar begins: Contemporary Debates in International Relations Theory. While the subject matter is inherently somewhat less interesting than the historical analysis of the first and third term, I am excited about the course. Partly, that is because of the instructors: David Williams and Jennifer Welsh. Partly, that is because of my fellow seminar members. If I recall correctly, I am in the same group as Roham, Sheena, Andy Kim, Bryony, Claire, Robert Moore, Emily, Matt Pennycook, Shohei, Alex, and Robert Wood. Collectively, I think this will make for interesting discussions.

Just like last term, I have a one in seven chance of being called upon to give a fifteen minute presentation on one of the week’s two topics. This week, mine would be:

‘For classical realists conflict stems from human nature, while for neo-realists conflict stems from the nature of the international system’. Is this an accurate assessment of the differences between classical and neo-realists?

Thankfully, I have some recollection of Robert Crawford’s IR Theory course at UBC to fall back upon. The sensible approach seems to be to quickly summarize and contrast some of the biggest names in realist theory: E.H. Carr, Hans Morgenthau, and Kenneth Waltz, in particular. Tomorrow, I will be in the SSL formulating some speaking notes.

Aside from the core seminar and qualitative methods, I am not entirely certain what we are meant to be attending this term. I’m not sure if the ‘Advanced Study of IR’ course is persisting into the second term; nor am I certain about whether the ‘Philosophy of the Social Sciences’ course that was delayed in Michaelmas will be happening now. Then there are things like the undergrad IR lecture and the ‘Professional Training in the Social Sciences’ course that were poorly attended and never discussed last term. I am sure it will all become clear in the first week or so, and I can ask Dr. Hurrell about it in our first supervision.

One thing I am scrambling over is the ORS application. For some reason, I thought it was due months from now. As such, I am having a real struggle coming up with two letters of reference before the due date on the 20th. That is particularly true since Dr. Hurrell is not supposed to provide one, since the department will be making the selection of which ORS applicants in the program get passed along to the university. It’s frustrating to have to do all of this for a scholarship we’ve told we have almost no chance of actually receiving. I am personally more hopeful about the Chevening, for which all applications were due in Ottawa today, and a few others that are coming up in the next few months. Suffice it to say that having some funding for next year would be exceedingly welcome.

Housing for next year and a job for the summer

Both at the back of my mind for the whole break, neither of these problems has found a solution yet. I am increasingly inclined to staying in Oxford: partly because of the availability of research materials for my thesis and partly due to the lower cost of living and the correspondingly increased probability that I will be able to find a job that will at least cover them. I would be happiest with a job doing academic research or working as a writer or editor in an academic, journalistic, or publishing context. Anyone with ideas is very much encouraged to contact me.

I have preferences but no possibilities regarding housing as well. I’d like to have a room in a house shared among some of my friends (ideally, at least a few of them members of the M.Phil in IR program). The Jericho and the Cowley Road areas seem to be the desirable ones for students. Jericho is closer to university stuff, but is less of a low-cost residential environment. The existence of the Tesco on Cowley Road could single-handedly account for a somewhat lower cost of living there. As for the building itself, my critical requirements are:

High speed internet access.
Decent security – I really can’t afford to have my laptop stolen
A clean and effective kitchen
Tolerable proximity to classes and services
Affordability

Of course, a big part of the quality of any living arrangement has to do with the people with whom you are living. My thuggish former roommates from my first year in Fairview may be the ultimate example of how bad roommates can ruin a residence experience. While I don’t think I could possibly do that badly again, I’d really like for my first experience in private accommodation to be with people whose company I enjoy. This will be the first time I’ve ever rented a private room. At UBC, at L’Universite de Montreal, and at Oxford, so far, I have always lived in university housing.

I may well apply for a space in Merifield, just so that the option of living there remains open.