Friday, December 9, 2011

Racists: Still Crazier Than Mad Hatters

A friend recently mentioned the incendiary fact that white people tend to have higher IQ's than blacks, at least when measured as a group.  While this idea is politically provocative beyond almost anything one might say in the public arena today, it soooo misses the most important fact about race, which is that race may be the least significant factor in predicting a person's IQ.  For that matter, race may be the least important factor in predicting anything significant about an individual, except the color of a person's skin tone ... and even here you can't always know for sure what shade of skin color belongs to which race!  

More importantly, I believe there is something ominously wrong about focusing on a person's race, at least to the extent that one loses sight of a person's unique and irreplaceable attributes as an individual.  

The evil of racism is that it is collectivist, meaning that the racist loses sight of a person's precious individuality.  The danger of lumping individuals together is not merely an evil characteristic of Nazis and the Ku Klux Klan.  This habit of viewing people through the lens of race is a defining characteristic of the left as well.  In fact, the left is obsessed by the postmodern tendency to define individuals according to the tribe they were born into.  

Let us remember that it is wrong to judge individuals by factors they can't control.  Our skin tone and eye color at birth, like the very time and place of our birth, are outside our ability to control.  Any matter that is outside the realm of personal choice is therefore outside the realm of morality.  Whether a person's actions are right or wrong depends crucially on that person's ability to choose one action or another.  Choice is therefore a crucial element in judging a person as good or bad.  But the left seems to think of people only in terms of their race, class, and gender, all of which are beyond anyone's ability to control, at least at the time of one's birth, transgender surgery notwithstanding.  

Let me amplify the point: judging people according to standards that are outside their ability to control is a bad thing, just as bad as old fashioned racism, insofar as it fails to regard people as fully realized and unique individuals.


Thomas  Sowell is an economist and prolific author who does scholarly work at the Hoover Institution of Stanford University.  He is, not incidentally, a black man who grew up in Harlem and graduated with honors from Harvard University at a time before affirmative action made it possible for minorities to be admitted to prestigious schools without measuring up to the admissions standards traditionally required of everyone. 


One of Sowell's academic specialties, on which he has published many books and a flood of articles, is precisely this matter that white populations tend to have higher IQ's than blacks. 


This statistical fact of higher IQ's among whites should give no comfort to  the Klan bigots who feel superior to blacks, because this statistical difference is highly correlated with environmental factors such as nutrition and the socio-economic accident of the time and place of one's birth. 


In sub-Saharan Africa, where nutrition is as abysmally lacking as electrical power and safe drinking water, IQ's in some of these countries tend to average around 60!  If we take any of those kids at birth and rear them in an affluent, educated home, their IQ's will certainly become dramatically higher than their siblings' and parents who were left back in Africa.


Among white men tested as Army draftees during World War One, IQ's were very significantly lower than today.


When white Europeans began sailing to the far reaches of the oceans and came upon all the backwards peoples of the world, they falsely concluded that Europeans were inherently superior to all those tribes that had never invented the wheel or developed any technology more sophisticated than open fires and  canoes. 


These Europeans didn't know that Homo saps have been on the earth around a 100,000 years (or, for what it's worth, is the true number closer to a million years?  For the point I am making, this question does not matter much, in the context of Biblical literalists who believe that God created the universe around 6,000 years ago.)  Until roughly 10,000 years ago none of our ancient ancestors had risen any higher than the primitive peoples of today. 


The Europeans also could not know that the DNA evidence discovered in just the last two decades proves beyond the slightest doubt that all of our ancient ancestors are from Africa!  In other words, all human beings come from the same stock.  We are one species.  There is no essential difference, certainly no moral difference between us, insofar as the biological roots of our most ancient ancestors.


These matters of race need to be put into a proper context. 


These same Europeans, in their great age of discovery, starting around 500 years ago, could have thought about their own ancient ancestors.  One thing they might have pondered is that just 2,000 years ago, almost all of the northern Europeans were living in a condition of poverty that was as abysmal as the poorest populations on the planet today.  These were people who wore animal skins and lived in twig and log huts sealed with mud, who slept on dirt floors with their domestic animals beside them.  They burned animal dung and wood for heat and fuel to cook, and so must have suffered horrible lung disorders from all that toxic smoke, just as modern primitives in Africa do today.  Their lives embodied the very essence of that condition described by Hobbes as solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.  Life expectancy was not even 30 years.  I would not think that their IQ's could have surpassed by much the poorest populations today.


So the proper context here is to note that the difference between the savage  populations of Europe and Africa is a separation of around 2,000 years.   So what?  Two thousand years is a long time!  No, it's not ... not by  the measure of how long man has been on the earth.  Consider the following idea, which I heard in a lecture some years ago by the great economist, student of Ludwig von Mises and Ayn Rand, and Objectivist scholar, George Reisman:


It's clear that Homo saps have been on the planet for around a million years (backwards Biblical literalists to the contrary notwithstanding, who believe that the God of Abraham "created" the earth around six thousand years ago.) 


Let's put this very starkly:


During most of his million years, man was a hunter-gatherer.  It was only  around 10,000 years ago that man first began to develop agriculture.  So, 10,000 of 1,000,000 years equals one percent of the time man has been on the earth.  In other words, it was only in the last flash of our existence that we developed agriculture.

Still briefer is the percentage of the time since our ancient northern European ancestors wore animal skins, compared to the time that man has been on the planet:  2,000 out of 1,000,000 equals just one fifth of one percent of the time Homo saps have walked the earth. 
  
Think about that. 

Finally, the insanity of judging people according to their race is confirmed by the facts assembled by such scholars as Thomas Sowell which prove that the differences among people of the same race are vastly greater than the differences between the races themselves, regarded as groups.  In other words, there is a vastly greater difference between the brightest and and dullest specimens within each race than the differences between the races, measured as groups.


In short, to be white, black, yellow, or red does not reliably predict anything about an individual's intelligence or potential.  But, as usual, the collectivists are  obsessed by the differences between groups, and are blind to individuals and individualism.  

Collectivists are pixilated by the evil fairy dust of group membership, which is to say membership in groups into which individuals are born.  Collectivists do not seem to know how to consider people as the unique, precious, irreplaceable individuals that each one of us is. 

Collectivism is a dull and coarse way of viewing the world, and, ironically, it is just as characteristic of the liberal left as it is of the Ku Klux Klan. 

In fact, the Klan's crude bigotry is based just on the one criterion of race, whereas the liberal left adds class and gender to this evil collectivist stew into which they drop all people. To an even greater degree than the Klan, lefties regard people not so much as individuals, but as members of the groups into which they were born.
 
Shame on all these collectivists!  

To be human is to be an individual first, and a member of a group only secondarily.  
 
The only groups that matter, morally speaking, are those in which one's membership is a matter of an individual's choice, and such choice is politically open only to those who live in societies which enjoy some degree of freedom.

You may argue that this concern with individuals versus groups is as pointless as wondering whether the chicken or the egg came first.  

My answer is that this question of individualism versus collectivism has life-and-death importance.  

Collectivism, treating people as good or bad according to which groups they belong, tends to promote totalitarian political systems that lead to the death camps which were the very emblem of the 20th century's worst problems.  

By contrast, individualism unleashes the creative power of Homo sapiens where it lives, which is inside each person, and thereby animates this astonishing eco-system of peaceful cooperation and production, which is the free market, where we enjoy voluntary trade of values to mutual advantage.  This freedom has improved the quality of life on earth as never before.

E  P  N

Revised 2015.0801




Thursday, December 8, 2011

Gandhi v Lamb Chop: Philip Glass & Shari Lewis

Gandhi versus Lamb Chop:

Philip Glass and Shari Lewis


My Everything-but-Wife, Terri, and I drove to Danbury last night to see the encore broadcast in HD of the Met Opera's new production of Philip Glass' groundbreaking opera, Satyagraha.

Incidentally, in case you're not familiar with this development, the Metropolitan Opera has been broadcasting via satellite to movie theaters around the world live performances in high definition of some of their productions, and then rebroadcasting an encore performance a couple weeks later.  We've been attending these Met Opera Live in HD performances for two years now and we find these broadcasts are absolutely stunning and wonderful experiences, like nothing available live in the opera house!  The singers are big enough on the movie screen to see every nuance, the sound is marvelous, and there are interviews with musicians and staff backstage.  I highly recommend these performances.  And they're dirt cheap compared with attending Lincoln Center live!

I could easily have devoted this essay to praising one of the other operas that moved us deeply and filled us with appreciation and wonder for the astonishing work of the Met Opera.  But here I am again, wearing my curmudgeon's costume, and singing with ire and bafflement at the spectacle of Philip Glass, this gloriously gifted composer who, in my humble opinion, appears to have sawed off his talent at the toes and put it to sleep in a Procrustean bed made up in the sheets of postmodern philosophy.  Allow me to explain.

Now, Satyagraha presents not so much a story about Mohandas Gandhi, as perhaps something like a musical montage, a meditation on passages from the Bhagavad-Gita that Gandhi read daily for inspiration.  These words, sung in Sanskrit, are the only source of lyrics in the libretto (and I'll bet that the big chorus of the Met Opera, having learned the libretto, doubled the Sanskrit-speaking population of the world!)

This work can hardly be described as a story, given the paucity of action and conversation, not that operas are best known for the brilliance of their books.  Instead of a story, the characters sing with reverence and awe all these abstract phrases, pronouncements mostly on a theme of denying selfishness to uphold the common good.

The big exception to this reverential atmosphere is the opening of Act II, a long scene crafted to  beat up on all the rich and greedy people, and do so with a spirit of mockery that would be worthy of an old tub-thumping Marxist.  I've read that these beliefs are on the same side of the color spectrum as the politics of the composer.  Very odd piece, this.

Knock, knock.

Who's there?

Knock, knock.

Who's there?

Knock, knock.

I say, who's there?

Knock, knock.

Well, who is it, for crying out loud?

Knock, knock.

Damn it all to hell, who is it?!?

Philip Glass.

Now, to my ear, the only thing groundbreaking about the musical minimalism of Glass is how such little musical material can be inflated to such proportions as to make a jelly bean look like a Macy's Day balloon.

I don't want to tar all minimalists with this same dismissive brush.  We just watched another Met opera production by another composer who is widely associated with musical minimalism, John Adams' Nixon in China, and found it to be an engaging story set to music of far greater variety and imagination than that of Philip Glass, in my opinion.

I remember the first time I heard something by Glass, a piece called "Facades."  I was freshly arrived at New College, at Sarasota, in the Fall of 1980.  I was up studying after midnight, listening to the local PBS radio station.  An arresting phrase of music filled the air.  I froze, fascinated.  Then the phrase was given out again.  And again.  And then again, and again and again.  I thought, surely the equipment was stuck in an endless loop.  But no....

Now Glass is a top drawer talent of superb training and accomplishment.  He was in the last generation of students in the legendary Parisian atelier of the great Nadia Boulanger.  So how could such a well-trained and marvelous talent drive into such a ditch?

Philosophy, of course.  Philosophy, as always.  Philosophy, the mother of everything, the bedrock (or quicksand) on which all knowledge must rise (or sink).

So it was no surprise for me to learn that Glass majored in philosophy at the University of Chicago.  I will not now wander off into my baleful thoughts on the crazy, cockamamie intellectual viruses of postmodern philosophy, but suffice it to say here that I will put a tall stack of dollars on the proposition that it is this bizarre contemporary philosophy that steered Glass' very great talent into this postmodern musical sausage machine.

Glass has the ability to create eight measures of beautiful and arresting music and, by a process of extrusion, squeeze out 20 minutes of musical catatonia.  At the end of this soporific exertion, there is no evidence of the man's wanting to go hide in shame.

I imagine that it is his crazy postmodern philosophy that has so stripped him of aesthetic conscience that his heartless musical cranking leaves him stripped of the ability to feel guilt or any desire to atone for these crimes against his own talent, this sad abuse of his shimmering gifts from the gods.

Instead of going into a thoughtful few pages on this baffling postmodern philosophy, let me offer instead a little meditation on Philip Glass and Shari Lewis, the creator of the hand puppet, Lamb Chop.

Consider Gandhi and Lamb Chop ....

The last act of Satyagraha ends with an empty stage, but for the character of Gandhi, who is singing a rising scale passage again and again and again, and then endlessly again and again.  And then a few more times, for good measure upon measure upon measure.  Oh, and did I mention that the phrase repeats itself?

The tune is in triple meter, say 3/4 time, in 8th notes (except the last note, which is a dotted half note), with an upbeat before measure one; it's a rising scale passage from mi to mi, if you know these solfege syllables:

mi fa sol la ti do re meeeee ...

(on the white notes of the piano, this passage rises from an E to the E an octave above, which is the C major scale, beginning and ending on the third degree of the scale.  The upbeat is on mi, or E, the first beat on fa, or F.)

As I did my stretches and calisthenics this morning, this passage from the end of Satyagraha wrapped itself around my mind and refused to let go.  Words kept setting themselves to this musical passage that recalled Shari Lewis and her hand puppet, Lamb Chop.  Do you remember this Shari Lewis song? --


     This is the song that does not end,
     It just goes on and on, my friend.
     Some people (clap!) started singing it,
     Not knowing what it was,
     And they'll continue singing it forever just because
     This is the song that does not end....


sol la ti do ti la do ti ... (G A B C B A C B, on the white notes of the piano, using the moveable doh system of solfege.)

This song, made famous by Shari Lewis, starts on the 5th degree of the scale, and the first line ends, hanging expectantly on the leading tone.

Back to Philip Glass' concluding passage (although it may be a misleading overstatement to call this phrase "concluding.")

These are my words to fit this phrase from the end of Satyagraha:

(Remember, it goes, "mi fa sol la ti do re mi," with mi an upbeat to fa, the downbeat.)


Miss Shari Lewis would be proud!
Because this song will never end!
But surely Death will intervene?
And take this song away from me?
Before I die and lose my chance,
I need a chord from Five to One.
But what's it mean, this Five to One?
The odds against a closing theme?
God help me find a way to stop,
Before the Union locks the door
And leaves me here to starve to death!

Abandon Hope, who hopes to find
In Philip Glass, a work succinct!
Instead, we have much brilliant work,
Created by this best-trained man,
Where tunes that ought to last a breath,
If written by a Brahms or Bach,
When written by this Philip Glass
Go on at soporific length!
A little tune that ought to have
Proportions of a toy balloon,
Are Zeppelins, the Hindenburg!

So what explains this so sad turn
Of brightly burnished talent spoiled?
Postmodern academic thought!
Philosophy should help us find
Life-serving purpose, sight, and joy!
Philosophy should clear the mind
Of Bullshit no one can believe,
Just like the cant that poisoned Glass,
Extruded, endless sausage link,
But tangled as a tumbleweed:
Postmodern surf that drowns the mind.


(Sorry ... if you don't know any music theory, I should briefly explain that "Five to One" means a harmonic progression, the movement of chords built on the 5th and 1st degrees of a musical scale.  In C major these chords would be built on G and C.  The chords are triads here, namely three notes sounded simultaneously at the interval of a third, like the distance from C to E, with each chord rising up from G and C.  Roman numerals denote the scale degree on which these triads are built.  So the notes of the V chord would be G-B-D, and the I chord is C-E-G.  The I chord is the home key, called the Tonic; the V chord is called the Dominant.  The significance of this progression from dominant to tonic, from V to I, is a transition from tension to relaxation, of musical struggle to the serenity of arriving home, which is precisely what this passage at the end of Glass' opera singularly lacks.)

Or how about that Neil Diamond song ...

"Song sung blue, searching for a cadence ...."

No, no, no, I'm not going there.

All right, enough for now.

     *  *  *
revised 2013.1118,
and 2015.0828