Pop psychology and the ideal character

When reading popular psychology and self-help books one often encounters that the aim of the writer is to help the readers 'to get it right'. What this means varies from book to book: it can be about becoming self-confident, more creative, less anxious, making better relationship choices, being less of a slacker, and so on.

The success of these works relies in their capacity to make people believe that they can actually offer them what they (often mistakenly) think they need. As with all simple solutions, these ones are also bullshit. But their popularity lies exactly in this. They do not do the careful analysis needed for proper treatment, they do not adjust for individual differences, and they do not tell their readers that what they seek is not achievable, or that for moral reasons they shouldn't achieve it. Although this might often be the case.

The idea behind this claim is always one of the following: (1) that everyone, independently of personal differences has the same potential to be (x) - substitute the desired trait in question in place of x; (2) that there is a norm of behavior and of feeling which everyone should aim to achieve - say, there is a norm of being social enough, of not being anxious, of being a happy person for most of the time, etc.

These assumptions then get coupled up with (3) the illusion of there being one more-or-less complicated recipe. You only have to think through it. And don't think too hard! God forbid, that you should actually think hard and long. The book isn't gonna sell if it can't be read on the train or in the evening before going to sleep. Also, it won't be popular if you have to think in a way that you aren't used to.

We can point out the following problems with the above: regarding (1), it can and should be admitted that there are individual differences both in emotions, in the reactions people have, in their interpersonal relations and skills, and in a host of other important personal qualities. Why then assume that (1) is true? Because it makes readers believe that they don't have to accept themselves, or work hard on realizing what would make them happy. Instead, they are led to believe that it is fine to want to live in the same way that others do or popular stereotypes suggest. These books do not make people reflective and make them think about whether their preferences are the ones they should stick to. They just affirm that they are, and they can actually be fulfilled, by everyone, in the same way.

The problem with (2) is similar. It suggests that it would be normal for everyone to have the same feelings towards the same things. We all should like funny series. We all should like dancing. We all should appreciate deep thoughts. We all should find poetry a bit dull and outdated, except if it is really easy to understand and is about love or emotional suffering. But why would this be true? Is there any harm in having very different preferences in social matters? If one co-worker is happy being silent, thinking about his own affairs, should she adjust herself to the preferences of the talkative people? Don't get me wrong, I'm one of the talkative, community seeking ones. And I can also see reasons for fostering community centered activities. They help exercise abilities which work well only in groups (like reasoning and planning), they help a lot for the more socially inclined people, the more insecure people can get reassured, and interaction also fosters a sense of community and leads to commitment. But does this mean that only these things matter or these things can only be achieved in one way? Of course not.

I'm not going to waste much effort on (3). Any person of a more mature frame of mind knows that there are no magical overall solutions. The interesting thing about life is exactly the multitude of little social-engineering tasks we are faced with. And of course if we don't like to bother with these we can devise good strategies on how to get into the sorts of situations we are comfortable with. But how you can do that while still getting good results for yourself will have to be figured out by you.

Doris Lessing passed away

Doris Lessing died. See the news here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-24979129

I read her book The Fifth Child a year ago. It was a shocking experience and very humbling. It actually helped me to understand those people - among them a very close relative - who cannot let the hands of their children go, even if this cripples their own and their families lives. It is a touching and terrifying account of the strength of attachment, and I think in a sense speaks well for the claim that a mother would belie her self if she would abandon her child in that way.

In the novel the father character grows distant and alienated from the child. Is is sad that he cannot help in supporting him, but the good side is that he is still there for his wife and is a firm financial support - don't underestimate the value of that in such situations.

A wonderful writer is gone now, and I hope many will take up some of her books and remember her in the best possible way: by reading her work!

Signs of getting tired...

Suddenly longing to read works which are totally unrelated to my research and I don't find generally useful or entertaining...
Suddenly being angry at people in the library who have a not-so-typical voice...
Suddenly starting to plan my holidays...

...are all sings that I'm getting tired of work for today.

Coetzee on Humanities and Universities

The link is here, it makes a good read during lunch break:

http://mg.co.za/article/2013-11-01-universities-head-for-extinction/

I agree with Coetzee very strongly that a certain amount of universities should be financed in keeping up decent humanities units. The question how many and how many students should be supported by the state to study there is a more difficult question.

What I've witnessed so far is that most Humanities disciplines are too difficult for a great many of the students attending, who then tend to blame their education instead of realising that they are not cut out for it. Of course I'm not saying that failure is only their fault. It might be the result of many components: engaging in these disciplines is hard, one needs a good background in culture and history, one needs to be motivated and willing to work hard (you cannot pick literature to learn a bit about good books, or German to learn the language). At the same time many of these diplomas are not preparing you for a specific job, so you will have to gather other skills after or besides your education if you want to land a job not related to your education.

Also, due to terrible financing schemes on the part of the government many uni's needed to accept huge numbers of students to finance their departments. This is very destructive for humanities. Instead of valuing a good academic stuff tutoring few quality students, and doing important work on culture, social issues, education, and cooperating with local communities and government on such issues, the teachers have to conduct mass classes to people who don't really know why they are there and often do not read the compulsory texts.

All in all, I would opt for retaining larger research and public engagement oriented humanities units, with less students.

Structure in Jude the Obscure

An interesting structural feature of Hardy's Jude the Obscure that I have just discovered, being half-way through the book:

1. Part first, chapter 2: helping animals (letting the birds feed on corn) - leading to problem (loss of job at farmer Troutham).

2. Part first, chapter 10: helping an animal (killing the pig quickly, instead of letting it bleed out) - leading to problem (Arabella gets mad at him).

3. Part fourth, chapter 2: helping an animal (killing the rabbit caught in a trap on the night of his aunt's funeral) - leading to problem (getting into a conversation with Sue at night and telling her that he'll give up his religious goals) - which then leads on to further problems (he loses even the small amount of motivation he had so far to resist his urge to be with Sue). 

The help Jude offers is quite ineffective in all cases, but it throws light on his compassionate and kind character. At the same time his acts of mercy symbolize that he is trespassing constraints: he ought not let the birds eat the farmer's crops, he ought to kill the pig in the best way for making money out of selling its meat, he ought to let the rabbit that someone else caught alone - the last one meaning the rabbit and Sue at the same time; Sue being caught in the marriage with Phillotson. A bad catch, so to say: the trap causes her much pain. But Jude ought no to interfere.

I do not yet know the outcome - I can make guesses. George Eliot's The Mill on the Floss keeps coming to my mind...Hardy depicts his characters in a similar way to Eliot as being driven to their fate by their passions. Both seem to point out at the same time the irrationality and pitiable lack of self-control of the character, while also criticizing social structures and institutions which do not give people like them the chance to fulfill their desires.

The fact that Jude's misfortunes are in parallel with his acts of mercy can also be interpreted as a criticism of lack of justice in the world. Those who follow the right moral principles will be frustrated in life because the dominant concept of what counts as rational, what is allowed does not leave room for the tender and gentle.

Help channels for typhoon victims

CNN has compiled a useful list of organizations that try to alleviate suffering and help the needy after the typhoon. See here:

http://www.cnn.com/2013/11/09/world/iyw-how-to-help-typhoon-haiyan/index.html

As usual with donations, every little helps - 5-10 dollars can make a difference.

Karoly Kernstock's paintings

Kernstock was a member of the group called 'The Eight', active at beginning of the Twentieth century in Hungary. They were a revolutionary group, and Kernstock played an important role in holding the eight differing characters together. I won't go into the details - partly because I'm still tired from being sick, partly because I have some friends and colleagues who know so much more about The Eight than do I that it would put me to shame if they read this. If you want to get a taste of what the exhibition was like in Budapest, at Museum of Fine Arts check out this nice account based on first-hand experience, by Stefan Van Drake. What I do want to share with you are some of my favourite Kernstock paintings.

Park detail (1908-1910?)

On the way home

Cardboard of the Glasswindows in the Schiffer Villa (1911)

The cold season

Being sick is a strange thing. People with the same disease lament different things sometimes. Or then again people with different illnesses have the same issues. For me the worst is the sense of being crippled. I don't mean this in the physical sense. Of course a cold, a flu, or even a more sever lung inflammation doesn't make you unable to move around and get things done. But in those periods my attention span becomes much-much shorter than usual. It is just hard to get things done.

Earlier when I became ill I just tried to ignore it as long as it was possible. This was okay around 10-12 years ago when my body somehow managed to draw an unknown resources and get through such periods. But nowadays I have to pursue a different strategy. When I notice that my immune system is in trouble again and won't hold against the attack I just switch to defense. I do minimal work - only the absolutely inevitable. I stay at home, have tea, do relaxing things like reading a good literature book, talking a bit with friends, have a proper cooking afternoon or read a few good poems. And sleep a lot. And hope that the storm will pass soon, the sky will clear, and I wake up feeling energetic and ready to complete all the items in the notebook.

Sadly, these passing sicknesses also affect my blogging. As much as I would have loved to update more often and finish three entries (one on the Hungarian exhibition at the Venice Biennale, one on philosophy of action, and one on feminism) I had to postpone writing them.

Your goals in life and your diploma

For a long time I bought into the currently dominant story with which governments are enforcing change in university finances. That is, I subscribed to the view that the universities should be used 1) to train people who can contribute to GDP, or 2) to train people who can do research on generally important topics, such as engineering, water cleaning, heart and lung diseases, etc.

I think this was a mistake and it was caused by a very one-sided view of things. Here is the stuff left out: the most often targeted courses and programmes for cuts are Humanities and Arts programmes. Critiques say that people finishing with such diplomas very often don't get jobs in the field in which they were trained. Thus, they spend years in the uni system, which is costly to the government, even if people pay high tuition fees.

But here is the deal. If a person is interested in a field, that means that he or she thinks the field important. If then that person studies the field she probably enjoys what she does. Even if she does not get a job in that field, a proper training might very well be necessary for properly enjoying works in that field (this is definitely true of literature, painting, music, but probably also of many other things). At the same time, many fields in the Humanities (teaching, pedagogy, linguistics) have lots of practical applications and there is need for well trained people in these fields.

Now, even if the people who received such training didn't get a job with it, it is very possible that 1) they acquired useful skills, and 2) that they can practice something that they like. Since money is not the only and most important thing for many of us, one can live a nice life with an average job, if one can at the same time do things in one's free time which one likes or loves. If the education has enabled one to do this in a fulfilling manner then it has bettered that person's life, and thereby also of those around her.

I think the main mistake that can lead us to forget that this might be a worthy goal of education in itself is that often in the media such people are represented as somehow having failed - they went to uni but they don't earn the big bucks. But many of us know since a long time: that's not necessarily what one wants to study for.

Frayn's 'The Tin Men'

Michael Frayn has written a funny and, according to P. G. Woodhouse, 'brilliant' book about the absurd workings of the modern university, where academia and administration are merged into a strange mutant. The Tin Men is a competent, workmanlike novel...Now, enough of this. What was it really like to read The Tin Men?

The book is short and witty, a good easy reading for long and tiring periods. Frayn's humor is great, but the novel becomes at some points monotonous. The plot doesn't propel itself forward, rather it is noticeably driven by the need to make more puns.

Some of the scenes would probably work better on film, being shorter and quicker and aided by mimicry and gestures from a good author. This is surely true of the ending of the novel, which is mostly filled with the running around of high-profile people, who are act like lunatics. Maybe in a movie one would be inclined to laugh all the way through, but during the slower experience of reading through the pages at some point one cannot resists asking the question: is this still funny? I mean, these aren't confused people, these are madman.

The lack of satisfaction I felt after finishing the book might have been caused by too high expectations on my part. I read Frayn's 'Copenhagen' with great pleasure, and that's much more the sort of work I prefer. I thought a book by him, that picks up the topics of ethics and artificial intelligence, would contain a much more sophisticated treatment of some of the main problems in these fields, even if only at the level of mentioning them in jokes.

Some of the passages where Frayn makes fun of the wannabe-writer Rowe are hilarious: Rowe begins by writing the reviews that will appear about his work first, and then goes on to write the novel itself, and subsequently commits all the mistakes typical of ambitious amateurs.

Altogether I would recommend the book, but it's not the sort of classic in humor that Douglas Adams is, nor the vivid painter of still human absurd like Joseph Heller, nor the genius of short grotesque like Istvan Orkeny, or the intellectually very fine-tuned works of Thomas Bernhard.