|
Read the rules in the OP before posting, please.In order to ensure that this thread continues to meet TL standards and follows the proper guidelines, we will be enforcing the rules in the OP more strictly. Be sure to give them a re-read to refresh your memory! The vast majority of you are contributing in a healthy way, keep it up! NOTE: When providing a source, explain why you feel it is relevant and what purpose it adds to the discussion if it's not obvious. Also take note that unsubstantiated tweets/posts meant only to rekindle old arguments can result in a mod action. |
On August 30 2017 11:21 Kickstart wrote:Show nested quote +On August 30 2017 11:18 Plansix wrote:On August 30 2017 11:14 Kickstart wrote:
How is it racist to assume it is an Islamic terrorist. First of all you haven't even see the person, so it isn't like you saw an Arab and assumed Islamic terrorist. Secondly Islam is an ideology not a race. And at this point the percentage of terrorist attacks within recent times that are related to Islamic extremism has to be really high. I have no idea on actual numbers but I imagine it is quite high, which further justifies assuming that when a terrorist act does occur that the perp is a muslim extremist. Did you read the discussion like at all? Like at all? His question was "Am I racist for thinking Islamic terrorist after truck drives into crowd/knife attack/ whatever terroristic act". I think what I said is a fairly straightforward response to that question.
I think you might have missed the purpose of the discussion, which was to define racism in tangible terms. The question was used at a starting point for that discussion. In which we also gloss over the fact the Muslim is not a race.
|
Racism has a definition already. Trying to expand the definition of it is part of the problem.
|
Thanks for weighing in, your opinion is noted.
|
Stating that something is already defined isn't really an opinion. But if being flippant and dismissive is your preferred method of engaging people perhaps we shouldn't continue. In the event you do want a serious discussion, could you put forth your definition? Since you hold the view that the dictionary definition isn't adequate it might be illuminating to know what definition you would deem adequate.
|
On August 30 2017 11:29 Kickstart wrote:
Racism has a definition already. Trying to expand the definition of it is part of the problem.
Great. Could you explain then, briefly? You might be the key then to fruitful discussion.
All yours.
|
Sure. I would appreciate it if others reciprocated with their definitions. I would define racism as holding biases/discriminating against specific racial groups on the basis of their race.
For example, I had a grandfather who kicked a black neighbor out of his pool when my dad and aunt invited the kid over over and afterwards told them 'no nigger is going to swim in my pool'. That is racist. Some of the things being discussed, such as assuming the persons ideology given that they commit a terrorist act, wouldn't qualify as racism to me.
|
Nancy Pelosi released a statement condemning antifa beating Trump supporters in berkeley
San Francisco — Democratic Leader Nancy Pelosi released the following statement denouncing the violent protests carried out this weekend in Berkeley, California:
“Our democracy has no room for inciting violence or endangering the public, no matter the ideology of those who commit such acts. The violent actions of people calling themselves antifa in Berkeley this weekend deserve unequivocal condemnation, and the perpetrators should be arrested and prosecuted.
“In California, as across all of our great nation, we have deep reverence for the Constitutional right to peaceful dissent and free speech. Non-violence is fundamental to that right. Let us use this sad event to reaffirm that we must never fight hate with hate, and to remember the values of peace, openness and justice that represent the best of America.”
www.democraticleader.gov
I do have to say fucking wow at that being her actual website. Would've sworn that URL would be a parody.
|
On August 30 2017 09:36 ChristianS wrote:Show nested quote +On August 30 2017 09:16 KwarK wrote:On August 30 2017 09:13 mozoku wrote:On August 30 2017 09:12 KwarK wrote:On August 30 2017 09:08 mozoku wrote:
Okay I think I've got a reasonable definition/explanation of racism that is consistent with its general use.
Racism is the idea that one race is superior to another. A racist believes the idea. Just as a speech can be conservative or liberal (as they're ideas), it can be racist. As a speech that espouses an idea is often described by the adjective form of the idea.
Since policies don't have ideas and their primary function isn't supposed to be communication (speech), a policy technically cannot be racist (though it can be discriminatory and consequently potentially immoral/unfair). On the other hand, we often say things like "it's a liberal policy" to describe policies promoted by liberals or policies that promote liberal beliefs, so using the phrase "it's a racist policy" can be an understandable linguistic shortcut. Still, it isn't valid grounds in a good faith debate about policy merits to argue against policy "because it's liberal." Likewise, arguing against a policy "because it's racist" isn't a real argument. The argument to be made would be "the policy is discriminatory." Using "racist" instead "discriminatory" in a policy merits debate serves no other purpose than to invoke a moral and/or emotional response.
Lastly, since a racist is someone who believes an idea, few people are actually racist. Since few people really believe some races are superior to another. When people say "everyone's a little racist", that's simply not true. Furthermore, it's difficult to know if someone is racist because knowing if someone actually believes an idea or not is really hard (impossible?). However, after observing someone for a while, you can conclude "this person is probably racist" and, with enough evidence, the "probably" approaches "certainly." What threshold someone wants to reach before labeling someone as a "racist" is up to the individual judging, but I'd argue it's wise to keep that threshold high to avoid weakening the term. You're using the definition which excuses everyone not currently burning a cross. Did you even read my post? You can conclude someone is racist imo with as little evidence as you want. I even stated that. But your version requires an active belief to be racist. The person has to actively say "I'm going to dismiss this issue because fuck blacks". That's irrelevant to the actual incarnation of racism. People don't consciously decide to be racist, they just are. The issue isn't that they think about why they believe what they do and decide to be racist, it's that they don't stop to question why they believe what they do at all. It's actually narrower than that. By mozoku's definition, someone saying "Fuck blacks" might not even be racist because they might or might not believe in the racial superiority of one race over another. We'd have to inquire with the person whether they were saying "fuck blacks" because they're inferior, because they're superior, or some other reason. If it's some other reason, it's not racist. A broader definition than mozoku's, which I still think is too narrow, is any sort of biological essentialism with regards to race. If you believe that being black causes someone to be a certain way, even if that way is not necessarily superior or inferior, that's essentialist. Note that this doesn't include thinking that blacks tend to be a certain way because of cultural or socioecenomic factors; that wouldn't be "essential." But at least with this definition we can catch slaveowners who insisted "I don't think blacks are inferior, I just think they have different strengths and weaknesses than whites," which was a common belief from what I understand. Blacks were thought to be happy, carefree, musical folk who lacked the intelligence or concentration or discipline or something to make it on their own; by mozoku's definition, that's not racist.
I considered both of these, but concluded they were both ultimately indistinguishable from a belief of superiority.
If you say "fuck blacks", you're implying they're inferior in some (unspecified) way. Even if you believe they're mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually equal to other races, you're still implying they're less worthy of something (their life, your attention, whatever it may be).
As for essentialism, I find it hard to imagine a case where someone finds different races to have different abilities but are equal on the whole (i.e. no belief of superiority). For example, if someone said something like "blacks causally are better physically but weaker mentally", I'd consider the person ignorant and confused, rather than racist. If they refuse to change their belief upon receiving contradicting evidence, see the next paragraph.
I've made arguments in the past that stereotypes/prejudices (I take them as priors) aren't inherently bad, but they wade into racist territory when you refuse to update them in the face of new information (either on an individual or race-wide basis). So similar to what Yango is saying.
As for conscious vs subconscious racism, I'll go back to what I said and make a few edits.
mozoku wrote:
Lastly, since a racist is someone who believes an idea, few people are actually racist. Since few people really believe some races are superior to another. When people say "everyone's a little racist", that's simply not true. Furthermore, It's difficult to know if someone is racist because knowing if someone actually believes an idea or not is really hard (impossible?). However, after observing someone for a while, you can conclude "this person is probably racist" and, with enough evidence, the "probably" approaches "certainly." What threshold someone wants to reach before labeling someone as a "racist" is up to the individual judging, but I'd argue it's wise to keep that threshold high to avoid weakening the term.
After that, nothing about it was specific to conscious or subconscious racism (even the struck out part wasn't though it implied I was only talking about conscious racism). As an outsider, whether the prospective racist person is consciously racist or subconsciously racist is mostly hidden to you (the person judging) anyway. And if you're judging yourself, there's no lack of certainty for conscious racism and evaluation of subconscious racism is going to come down questioning your own priors, words, and actions.
|
On August 30 2017 11:45 Kickstart wrote:
Sure. I would appreciate it if others reciprocated with their definitions. I would define racism as holding biases/discriminating against specific racial groups on the basis of their race.
For example, I had a grandfather who kicked a black neighbor out of his pool when my dad and aunt invited the kid over over and afterwards told them 'no nigger is going to swim in my pool'. That is racist. Some of the things being discussed, such as assuming the persons ideology given that they commit a terrorist act, wouldn't qualify as racism to me.
I gave my personal definition on the last page, but i do give it to someone if he's saying that it might be "insufficient" for all nuances.
Although, being me, i generally would argue that yes, it might be insufficient, but is way more than enough to be able to fight racism effectively already.
To your last sentence, that was the entire point. After seeing the same thing being discussed over and over again, i think it's time to just figure out what we all perceive as racism, and if every racist thought is one that you should be ashamed of ("not again", for example). Or of course if that even is racist. Which i gave my opinion to as well.
|
Saying a word has a fixed definition is factually incorrect. Words and language evolve and change. That is how we arrived here today, speaking on the internet through computers. The word computer itself finds its roots in the word compute and old adding machines known as computators.
So yes, your claim that a word is already defined and should not be expanded further is an opinion.
In the case cited by m4ini - I don't consider his thought process to be racist, since he is clearly aware and uncomfortable with it. He has the self awareness that automatically assuming a knife attack is caused by Muslims is probable, but that should not inform his over all opinion of Muslims. If he acted on these impulse in a way that disparaged or repressed Muslims, even after this critical review of it, that would be racist. But as stated above, he has not acted on that impulse.
|
Again, if you think the traditional definition is inadequate you should put forth a definition. You should also not be surprised when people take issue with those who expand the definition in order to contain a group that wouldn't previously be considered as racist.
You are correct that the meaning of words changes over time, but I see that as the root of the problem with this part of the discussion - that some people already have a definition of what racism is while others think the definition is broader. How you bridge the gap of different people having different definitions I have no idea.
|
Can we all agree that this is probably the worst take on houston we'll see?
Article is here :
www.slate.com
With the debilitating rain in Houston fell a rain of inspiriting images. Everywhere on Twitter, in the papers, in internet slideshows, we saw Texans improvising rescue canoes and gathering scared dogs in their arms, bearing them away to safety. First responders waded into the water-choked arteries of the city and dragged people out of cars. Uniformed men hoisted grandmothers on their backs (like Jason fording the river with the goddess Hera on his shoulders) while, elsewhere in the country, beer companies filled cans with fresh water and celebrities spearheaded donation drives.
The flood, the animals: It all felt so mythic. In coverage of Harvey, the word hero is almost as ubiquitous as the stills of intrepid reporters, their rain slickers swirling like capes, and hunky National Guardsmen in life jackets. During a speech to the press on Monday, President Donald Trump noted that crisis showcases “the best in America’s character—strength, charity, and resilience.” (This was a reprieve from his popcorn-gobbling tweets about Harvey’s unprecedented, riveting destruction.) The Washington Times echoed Trump with a piece spotlighting the many Clark Kents and Diana Princes vaulting into action: “Hurricane Harvey Brings Out the Best in America.” There is an adage that “adversity doesn’t build character, it reveals it.”
But does catastrophe illustrate, or does it transform? What if America is less a glorious nation of do-gooders awaiting the chance to exercise their altruism than a moral junior varsity team elevated by circumstance? In her book A Paradise Built in Hell: The Extraordinary Communities That Arise in Disaster, Rebecca Solnit argues that emergencies provoke from us a conditional virtue. They create provisional utopias, communities in which the usual—selfish, capitalistic—rules don’t apply. “Imagine a society,” Solnit writes, “where the fate that faces [people], no matter how grim, is far less so for being shared, where much once considered impossible, both good and bad, is now possible or present, and where the moment is so pressing that old complaints and worries fall away, where people feel important, purposeful, at the center of the world.”
The point here is obviously not to diminish the bighearted men and women who rose to the occasion when Harvey, a “once-in-a-lifetime” storm with a spiraling death toll, slammed into Texas. But it is misleading to characterize Houston as an exhibition of the “best of America” when what it represents is a contingent America, a “paradise” specific to the “hell” around it. These waterlogged suburbs have become zones of exemption, where norms hang suspended and something lovelier and more communal has been allowed to flourish in their place. Disaster scientists have repeatedly punctured the myth, perpetuated by Hollywood and the media, that cataclysm awakens our worst selves. Rather, disruptive events loosen our mores just enough to permit new kinds of compassion. As Slate reported in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy, researchers at the University of Colorado–Boulder discovered “that panic is not a problem in disasters; that rather than helplessly awaiting outside aid, members of the public behave proactively and prosocially to assist one another; that community residents themselves perform many critical disaster tasks, such as searching for and rescuing victims; and that both social cohesiveness and informal mechanisms of social control increase during disasters, resulting in a lower incidence of deviant behavior.”
These findings put a frame around the cooperative society that has lately emerged in Houston: It is a beautiful anomaly, a liquid note of silver momentarily liberated from its sheath of rust. The inverse of such a phenomenon is the bystander effect, by which individuals might walk past someone prone in the street without offering aid. We rarely feel responsible for a stranger’s suffering if others around us seem unmoved or if we can comfortably assume that some nearby person will step in to help instead. Humans may possess inherent goodness, but that goodness needs to be activated. Some signal has to disperse the cloud of moral Novocain around us. Some person, or fire, or flood, has got to say: now.
|
Racism is the act of prejudice, discrimination, or antagonism directed against someone of a different race, based on their race. It does not need to be intentional or conscious. People do racist things accidentally all the time. The key word in there is antagonism, which a lot of people disregard in favor of the other two because they are easier to avoid.
This differs from institutional racism, which is systematic and is made of laws and policies.
|
On August 30 2017 12:12 Nevuk wrote:https://twitter.com/SethAMandel/status/902717500240125952Can we all agree that this is probably the worst take on houston we'll see? Article is here : www.slate.comShow nested quote +With the debilitating rain in Houston fell a rain of inspiriting images. Everywhere on Twitter, in the papers, in internet slideshows, we saw Texans improvising rescue canoes and gathering scared dogs in their arms, bearing them away to safety. First responders waded into the water-choked arteries of the city and dragged people out of cars. Uniformed men hoisted grandmothers on their backs (like Jason fording the river with the goddess Hera on his shoulders) while, elsewhere in the country, beer companies filled cans with fresh water and celebrities spearheaded donation drives.
The flood, the animals: It all felt so mythic. In coverage of Harvey, the word hero is almost as ubiquitous as the stills of intrepid reporters, their rain slickers swirling like capes, and hunky National Guardsmen in life jackets. During a speech to the press on Monday, President Donald Trump noted that crisis showcases “the best in America’s character—strength, charity, and resilience.” (This was a reprieve from his popcorn-gobbling tweets about Harvey’s unprecedented, riveting destruction.) The Washington Times echoed Trump with a piece spotlighting the many Clark Kents and Diana Princes vaulting into action: “Hurricane Harvey Brings Out the Best in America.” There is an adage that “adversity doesn’t build character, it reveals it.”
But does catastrophe illustrate, or does it transform? What if America is less a glorious nation of do-gooders awaiting the chance to exercise their altruism than a moral junior varsity team elevated by circumstance? In her book A Paradise Built in Hell: The Extraordinary Communities That Arise in Disaster, Rebecca Solnit argues that emergencies provoke from us a conditional virtue. They create provisional utopias, communities in which the usual—selfish, capitalistic—rules don’t apply. “Imagine a society,” Solnit writes, “where the fate that faces [people], no matter how grim, is far less so for being shared, where much once considered impossible, both good and bad, is now possible or present, and where the moment is so pressing that old complaints and worries fall away, where people feel important, purposeful, at the center of the world.”
The point here is obviously not to diminish the bighearted men and women who rose to the occasion when Harvey, a “once-in-a-lifetime” storm with a spiraling death toll, slammed into Texas. But it is misleading to characterize Houston as an exhibition of the “best of America” when what it represents is a contingent America, a “paradise” specific to the “hell” around it. These waterlogged suburbs have become zones of exemption, where norms hang suspended and something lovelier and more communal has been allowed to flourish in their place. Disaster scientists have repeatedly punctured the myth, perpetuated by Hollywood and the media, that cataclysm awakens our worst selves. Rather, disruptive events loosen our mores just enough to permit new kinds of compassion. As Slate reported in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy, researchers at the University of Colorado–Boulder discovered “that panic is not a problem in disasters; that rather than helplessly awaiting outside aid, members of the public behave proactively and prosocially to assist one another; that community residents themselves perform many critical disaster tasks, such as searching for and rescuing victims; and that both social cohesiveness and informal mechanisms of social control increase during disasters, resulting in a lower incidence of deviant behavior.”
These findings put a frame around the cooperative society that has lately emerged in Houston: It is a beautiful anomaly, a liquid note of silver momentarily liberated from its sheath of rust. The inverse of such a phenomenon is the bystander effect, by which individuals might walk past someone prone in the street without offering aid. We rarely feel responsible for a stranger’s suffering if others around us seem unmoved or if we can comfortably assume that some nearby person will step in to help instead. Humans may possess inherent goodness, but that goodness needs to be activated. Some signal has to disperse the cloud of moral Novocain around us. Some person, or fire, or flood, has got to say: now.
That take is far to hot for anyone. They should have let that thing cool off before publishing it. Once the heat was gone, they would have seen that is was just shit in the shape of a pie.
|
@mozoku (quote is long and it's a pain to trim down on an iPhone):
You're assuming a meaning to "fuck blacks" that I don't think you can reasonably assume. If I say "fuck the Detroit Red Wings," maybe I think they're an inferior team, or maybe I think the players are morally inferior. But maybe I just like an opposing team and the Red Wings beat them. That doesn't mean I think they're inferior in any way.
And while I too suspect that essentialists are really supremacists, they'll swear up and down that they're not. Even the fact that they deny it means it's useful to refer to them differently than someone who straight up says white people are better.
|
On August 30 2017 12:15 Plansix wrote:Show nested quote +On August 30 2017 12:12 Nevuk wrote:https://twitter.com/SethAMandel/status/902717500240125952Can we all agree that this is probably the worst take on houston we'll see? Article is here : www.slate.comWith the debilitating rain in Houston fell a rain of inspiriting images. Everywhere on Twitter, in the papers, in internet slideshows, we saw Texans improvising rescue canoes and gathering scared dogs in their arms, bearing them away to safety. First responders waded into the water-choked arteries of the city and dragged people out of cars. Uniformed men hoisted grandmothers on their backs (like Jason fording the river with the goddess Hera on his shoulders) while, elsewhere in the country, beer companies filled cans with fresh water and celebrities spearheaded donation drives.
The flood, the animals: It all felt so mythic. In coverage of Harvey, the word hero is almost as ubiquitous as the stills of intrepid reporters, their rain slickers swirling like capes, and hunky National Guardsmen in life jackets. During a speech to the press on Monday, President Donald Trump noted that crisis showcases “the best in America’s character—strength, charity, and resilience.” (This was a reprieve from his popcorn-gobbling tweets about Harvey’s unprecedented, riveting destruction.) The Washington Times echoed Trump with a piece spotlighting the many Clark Kents and Diana Princes vaulting into action: “Hurricane Harvey Brings Out the Best in America.” There is an adage that “adversity doesn’t build character, it reveals it.”
But does catastrophe illustrate, or does it transform? What if America is less a glorious nation of do-gooders awaiting the chance to exercise their altruism than a moral junior varsity team elevated by circumstance? In her book A Paradise Built in Hell: The Extraordinary Communities That Arise in Disaster, Rebecca Solnit argues that emergencies provoke from us a conditional virtue. They create provisional utopias, communities in which the usual—selfish, capitalistic—rules don’t apply. “Imagine a society,” Solnit writes, “where the fate that faces [people], no matter how grim, is far less so for being shared, where much once considered impossible, both good and bad, is now possible or present, and where the moment is so pressing that old complaints and worries fall away, where people feel important, purposeful, at the center of the world.”
The point here is obviously not to diminish the bighearted men and women who rose to the occasion when Harvey, a “once-in-a-lifetime” storm with a spiraling death toll, slammed into Texas. But it is misleading to characterize Houston as an exhibition of the “best of America” when what it represents is a contingent America, a “paradise” specific to the “hell” around it. These waterlogged suburbs have become zones of exemption, where norms hang suspended and something lovelier and more communal has been allowed to flourish in their place. Disaster scientists have repeatedly punctured the myth, perpetuated by Hollywood and the media, that cataclysm awakens our worst selves. Rather, disruptive events loosen our mores just enough to permit new kinds of compassion. As Slate reported in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy, researchers at the University of Colorado–Boulder discovered “that panic is not a problem in disasters; that rather than helplessly awaiting outside aid, members of the public behave proactively and prosocially to assist one another; that community residents themselves perform many critical disaster tasks, such as searching for and rescuing victims; and that both social cohesiveness and informal mechanisms of social control increase during disasters, resulting in a lower incidence of deviant behavior.”
These findings put a frame around the cooperative society that has lately emerged in Houston: It is a beautiful anomaly, a liquid note of silver momentarily liberated from its sheath of rust. The inverse of such a phenomenon is the bystander effect, by which individuals might walk past someone prone in the street without offering aid. We rarely feel responsible for a stranger’s suffering if others around us seem unmoved or if we can comfortably assume that some nearby person will step in to help instead. Humans may possess inherent goodness, but that goodness needs to be activated. Some signal has to disperse the cloud of moral Novocain around us. Some person, or fire, or flood, has got to say: now.
That take is far to hot for anyone. They should have let that thing cool off before publishing it. Once the heat was gone, they would have seen that is was just shit in the shape of a pie.
What would you say is incorrect about that article?
|
To me it is much easier to address policy issues / institutional racism than people's own biases. Trying to convince people that they may hold views that are racist isn't productive UNLESS they are willing to take that criticism and address it. I don't think this is ever going to happen in a political context. Perhaps between friends and family, but it is infinitely more difficult to get someone from across the political isle to listen to you when you say 'hey this view you have is problematic and moreover it is racist'. I think the way to go is to argue specific policy and its effects, such as felon disenfranchisement. Focusing on just policy aspects is the way to go in a political context. Combating actual racism in people is more difficult, I think its something people have to grow out of more than be convinced out of.
That said, I think confronting racism or prejudice in day to day life is needed and a good thing, my only point is that in a political context I question how fruitful that can even be (as far as convincing political opponents that they hold racist views).
|
http://www.uuworld.org/articles/course-im-racist
This is a short article by a liberal blogger about how he was brought up in an all-white neighborhood that resulted in him being racist in ways that really aren't active racism.
This segment is a nice, concrete example of racism that doesn't involve any specifically racist thoughts.
My snap judgments of black people continue to be more sweeping and negative than my judgments of similar whites. If a black driver cuts me off in traffic, my anger flashes hotter. If a black clerk or waitress is slow to serve me, I’m less likely to consider the kind of day she’s had and more likely to assume character flaws like laziness or sullen resentment.
This is racism in probably its most minor form. It doesn't make someone a bad person to have those thoughts or reactions.
Also, addressing the people arguing for a broader definition of racism in this thread - It's probably better to approach things as "That was a racist thing to do/say/think," rather than "You're racist for doing/saying/thinking that."
The article above doesn't directly address institutional racism, but it's pretty easy to extrapolate from what the author talks about to phenomenon such as white sounding names getting more responses when applying for jobs.
|
On August 30 2017 14:20 Kyadytim wrote:http://www.uuworld.org/articles/course-im-racistThis is a short article by a liberal blogger about how he was brought up in an all-white neighborhood that resulted in him being racist in ways that really aren't active racism. This segment is a nice, concrete example of racism that doesn't involve any specifically racist thoughts. Show nested quote +My snap judgments of black people continue to be more sweeping and negative than my judgments of similar whites. If a black driver cuts me off in traffic, my anger flashes hotter. If a black clerk or waitress is slow to serve me, I’m less likely to consider the kind of day she’s had and more likely to assume character flaws like laziness or sullen resentment. This is racism in probably its most minor form. It doesn't make someone a bad person to have those thoughts or reactions. Also, addressing the people arguing for a broader definition of racism in this thread - It's probably better to approach things as "That was a racist thing to do/say/think," rather than "You're racist for doing/saying/thinking that." The article above doesn't directly address institutional racism, but it's pretty easy to extrapolate from what the author talks about to phenomenon such as white sounding names getting more responses when applying for jobs.
When conservatives listen to liberals talk about racism and conclude that by liberal definitions racism is ubiquitous, this is the type they're probably referring to. But when they say that use of the term is so broad it's meaningless that isn't true. "Racism" in this context is a clear and useful term to describe one's own biases. But the frustrating variability of the term leads them to, somewhat understandably, assume that someone saying "everybody's racist" is using the term the same way as someone saying "Joe Arpaio is racist."
|
On August 30 2017 12:12 Nevuk wrote:https://twitter.com/SethAMandel/status/902717500240125952Can we all agree that this is probably the worst take on houston we'll see? Article is here : www.slate.comShow nested quote +With the debilitating rain in Houston fell a rain of inspiriting images. Everywhere on Twitter, in the papers, in internet slideshows, we saw Texans improvising rescue canoes and gathering scared dogs in their arms, bearing them away to safety. First responders waded into the water-choked arteries of the city and dragged people out of cars. Uniformed men hoisted grandmothers on their backs (like Jason fording the river with the goddess Hera on his shoulders) while, elsewhere in the country, beer companies filled cans with fresh water and celebrities spearheaded donation drives.
The flood, the animals: It all felt so mythic. In coverage of Harvey, the word hero is almost as ubiquitous as the stills of intrepid reporters, their rain slickers swirling like capes, and hunky National Guardsmen in life jackets. During a speech to the press on Monday, President Donald Trump noted that crisis showcases “the best in America’s character—strength, charity, and resilience.” (This was a reprieve from his popcorn-gobbling tweets about Harvey’s unprecedented, riveting destruction.) The Washington Times echoed Trump with a piece spotlighting the many Clark Kents and Diana Princes vaulting into action: “Hurricane Harvey Brings Out the Best in America.” There is an adage that “adversity doesn’t build character, it reveals it.”
But does catastrophe illustrate, or does it transform? What if America is less a glorious nation of do-gooders awaiting the chance to exercise their altruism than a moral junior varsity team elevated by circumstance? In her book A Paradise Built in Hell: The Extraordinary Communities That Arise in Disaster, Rebecca Solnit argues that emergencies provoke from us a conditional virtue. They create provisional utopias, communities in which the usual—selfish, capitalistic—rules don’t apply. “Imagine a society,” Solnit writes, “where the fate that faces [people], no matter how grim, is far less so for being shared, where much once considered impossible, both good and bad, is now possible or present, and where the moment is so pressing that old complaints and worries fall away, where people feel important, purposeful, at the center of the world.”
The point here is obviously not to diminish the bighearted men and women who rose to the occasion when Harvey, a “once-in-a-lifetime” storm with a spiraling death toll, slammed into Texas. But it is misleading to characterize Houston as an exhibition of the “best of America” when what it represents is a contingent America, a “paradise” specific to the “hell” around it. These waterlogged suburbs have become zones of exemption, where norms hang suspended and something lovelier and more communal has been allowed to flourish in their place. Disaster scientists have repeatedly punctured the myth, perpetuated by Hollywood and the media, that cataclysm awakens our worst selves. Rather, disruptive events loosen our mores just enough to permit new kinds of compassion. As Slate reported in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy, researchers at the University of Colorado–Boulder discovered “that panic is not a problem in disasters; that rather than helplessly awaiting outside aid, members of the public behave proactively and prosocially to assist one another; that community residents themselves perform many critical disaster tasks, such as searching for and rescuing victims; and that both social cohesiveness and informal mechanisms of social control increase during disasters, resulting in a lower incidence of deviant behavior.”
These findings put a frame around the cooperative society that has lately emerged in Houston: It is a beautiful anomaly, a liquid note of silver momentarily liberated from its sheath of rust. The inverse of such a phenomenon is the bystander effect, by which individuals might walk past someone prone in the street without offering aid. We rarely feel responsible for a stranger’s suffering if others around us seem unmoved or if we can comfortably assume that some nearby person will step in to help instead. Humans may possess inherent goodness, but that goodness needs to be activated. Some signal has to disperse the cloud of moral Novocain around us. Some person, or fire, or flood, has got to say: now.
No. We can't all agree. I like the take.
|
|
|
|
|
|
EPT
