Occasional Tales

No delays. Unlike previous experiences in China, my departure from Fuzhou proceeded without any hiccups and a little good fortune. Internet access and a land line were already live, so none of this nonsense about China Telecom using a debt of ¥3 to cut off the phone and demand a bunch of money to get a new line installed. The flat's all right, but there are downsides. The view is awful; the shower would be better if the bracket for the nozzle wasn't broken; there's nowhere to put books or DVDs; and not really enough room for clothes. There's a large cupboard at the end of the sitting room, but it's only really good for hanging things in or for items such as towels. I need a chest-of-drawers. Chengdu feels more lively than Fuzhou ever did, although I note that there are lots of foreign tourists around. All the pretty girls? Well, there are some, but no more than anywhere else, it seems. Short shorts are on display, but that's no different from Fuzhou or Beijing.

Who's the boss? It seems that the whole matter of being ferried from the airport when you arrive and to it when you leave is a mere courtesy. Formally speaking, the people who actually employ me should be doing that, but the school has to do it in their stead. In other words, I'm on my own tomorrow when I depart. Do I have any regrets about leaving Fuzhou? A couple. One is that I never had a bike so that I could explore the city more widely. I think there's rather a lot that I missed seeing because of my comparative immobility, and once I knew I was departing, there was no point in getting a bike. The other is a couple of cute girls here, but since I'm told that the most beautiful girls in China live in Chengdu, I may find that there's ample compensation for that loss. (Yes, I know. I'm a sad old perv who knows that age, academic and cultural differences really preclude any chance of meaningful relationships here.)

Attitudes when foreigners depart. In a couple of days I'll be leaving Fuzhou. It wasn't my choice because although I said I had no objections to departing, I preferred to be spared the bother of packing everything up yet again for a second year running. Instead, Central Command asked me to go to Chengdu and I agreed. I'm still with the same programme, but at another school. I'm also still under contract. Unfortunately, the school's attitude, regardless of the circumstances of your departure, is that you're a dirty, traitorous scoundrel who deserves no help whatsoever. It doesn't matter one iota that you're still under the current contract. That's a contract which, throughout the time it covers, is used as a stick with which to beat you, but otherwise ignored when they don't think it's in their best interests. Every contract I've signed here has been violated by the schools to a greater or lesser extent. The people who actually employ us l...

It was in the phial marked "Secret Deadly Formula". There's a crackdown on Death STUMP and the usual suspects get rounded up. Lina invents some super deadly virus as a kind of nuclear deterrent, but her assistant (Igor?) pours the stuff down the drain. ( I thought it was old mayonnaise , he said apologetically. He was probably right, but I think it was yoghurt-based, since hippie tree-huggers like yoghurt, the most vile-tasting dairy product known to humanity and an apt base for some sort of 100%-lethal biological weapon.) But whose fault is this mess? Ultimately, it's Lina's fault. Firstly, it's obvious that Igor is some cheap factory second that she bought from Lackeys 'R' Us. Secondly, she should've labelled the phials and she should've at least ensured that Igor (one GCSE in Media Studies) could recognise what the label said. Thirdly, she should've locked the phials away in a secure cabinet where Igor couldn't get his hands on them....

It seemed like a good idea at the time. STUMP's leader, Mad Dog, notes, as I did yesterday, that e-Ville Corporation is faking it. The reforms are a con. It's time to get radical. That splits STUMP, and Lina, who still likes it hard and violent, becomes part of Death STUMP. Lina ends up making small bombs for STUMP which are used as incendiary devices. The bombs cause varying amounts of damage, but one seriously endangers the lives of the director of e-Ville and his family (resulting, I should think, in the wholesale dismissal of his security providers who let a bunch of bomb-wielding hippy tree-huggers get past them) and the fire that resulted from another, led to the death of a fireman. Lina isn't so bothered about the former, but she is about the latter. Nonetheless, they're saving lots of people in the Third World, so it's a small price to pay. Besides, can Lina be held responsible for the unintentional death of the fireman? Well, yes. I suppose that it might be...

If it works on a telly… e-Ville Corporation (yes, we're back to unreality) has climbed down on a few things such as stir-fired baby koalas and whole, roasted panda chunks, but it seems to be window undressing [sic!] more than anything else. To Lina it seems that mindless violence has achieved something, and it's time to kick some more skanky corporate arse. Lawrence, all sandals, memories of being a fluffy-headed Egyptian princess, and tripitaka (well, he saw the word once when he was glancing through the Dummies Guide to Buddhism ), decides that enough's enough. Is STUMP's new policy a success? e-Ville Corporation's response to STUMP really seems to be a matter of changing their image rather than altering their substance. STUMP, on the other hand, seems to be losing the moral high ground by resorting to force to achieve its ends. Or, perhaps more accurately, STUMP seems to be joining e-Ville Corporation. Well, the saying is If you can't beat 'em, join ...

The social problems of the Australian Aborigines. I thought I'd turn my attention to an ethical dilemma from the real-world. It's been reported in The Guardian ( Aboriginal abuse plan denounced as racist ) that the Australian government is trying to do something about alcoholism and child abuse in Aboriginal communities. The proposal is to ban alcohol and porn. The Australian PM, John Howard, is being accused of using this as a political opportunity since such measures are being taken ahead of a general election. The viability of the scheme has also been called into question. From what I've read in the past, the lives of Aborigines are pretty dreadful. I know that they have a low tolerance for alcohol. I didn't know about the child abuse part until I read the article from The Guardian. Regardless of the political circumstances, isn't it better that some effort should be made to alleviate the lot of Aborigines than that they should be left to pass their lives in such...

Or, you do it your way. STUMP organises another protest against e-Ville Corporation, but this time it's a more traditional affair with wanton vandalism and an accidental death. Lawrence, who's obviously a sandal-wearing vegetarian who's totally into Buddhism (well, he has pictures of Richard Gere on the wall at home and is pretty certain he's the reincarnation of an Egyptian princess), is against all this violence since the result is that STUMP has lost the moral high ground in the fight against e-Ville Corporation. Lina, on the other hand, who likes it hard and rough, disagrees, and they break up. It's the old question about being nice and reasonable, or unnice and unreasonable to achieve your aims. Most people would say that violence and vandalism is a little much, but it may be the only language the boardroom understands, unless you can muster some economic clout against it. In other words, you could try to get the shareholders to do the dirty work for you.

But it's all for the good. It's a tale of whiny Sparts today. Lawrence and Lina hate the e-Ville Corporation in all its forms and join some activist group called STUMP (no doubt run by skinny boys with pathetic excuses for beards – good guess me, it seems). It's time for a little non-violent civil disobedience. Yeah, that means a bunch of dippy hippies playing guitars. If I were the e-Ville Corporation, I'd be running up the white flag so as not to suffer the horrors of guitars, caftans, and twentysomething, eunuch-like boys who strain to grow beards. The protest was a great success in that it was well managed and there was little disruption, but it didn't get much media coverage which focused on the response from the e-Ville Corporation. STUMP decides to up the ante to civil disorder (I suppose that means things like paying for something in a shop and then running away without it or the change). Lina and Lawrence are opposed to violence, but since the e-Ville Corpo...

There's always one. Before the vote on the compulsory chewing of tobako leaves can be taken, there's an objection from someone who had the disease and survived. Chewing tobako leaves might kill him, but he knows that he has a natural immunity to the disease which the flies have been spreading. In spite of this hysterical outburst which ignores the fact that not everyone has a natural immunity to the disease, the Health Secretary's proposal is passed. When all the risks are weighed up, this seems to be the best option open to the Marjonians since no one knows who's naturally immune to the disease, nor who's allergic to the tobako leaves. The question is whether this is fair and democratic or unfair and despotic? The Community Council would say that it was for the good of the people and, therefore, a good thing . But that argument can be extended to all sorts of unplesantness. As far as I recall, Marjon is not a democracy, although the voting system in the Council wen...

What doesn't kill us makes us more susceptible. The Marjonian Community Council decides to opt for majority decisions rather than unanimity. They've also built themselves a network of irrigation channels, which would be all well and good, but they're a breeding ground for flies which spread a lethal disease throughout the population. Two-thirds of the population is going to die. Anyway, the Secretary of State for Health (aka the Druid) says that if the people chew the leaves of the tobako [sic!] plant, they'll be immunised against the disease. The Council is about to pass the proposal for the immunisation programme when someone mentions that some people react badly to tobako. The Health Secretary admits that about one in twenty might die, but that seems to be a better proposition than two-thirds succumbing to the disease. And just to twist the tail a little more, the disease is highly infectious and once you have it, chewing tobako won't help. So, should the scheme ...

If you can't share the breadfruit, you can at least share the water. One obvious solution to the water shortage in Marjon was an irrigation system. I was going to mention this yesterday, but fortunately looked ahead in the book. Seems like a good idea, but some people have got used to the changes that have happened because of changes to the climate, and are opposed to this newfangled idea. The Council shows the sort of inertia which is typical of a government, and the proles walk out to take matters into their own hands. Are they justified? Well, if everyone else is going to sit on their arses and expect breadfruit to come falling like manna from heaven, then perhaps the peasants need to take matters into their own hands. Irrigation would solve a problem, although that's not to say it wouldn't create further problems, because their might be a point at which the amount of water becomes insufficient and replacement of the supply cannot keep up with demand. In other words, the...

Perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea. There's been a shift in the Marjonian climate so that most people are now unable to grow enough food, while 10% who have access to springs can produce more than they need and use that power to control the rest of the population. They also say that even if the breadfruit was shared out, there still wouldn't be enough. Besides, what's their motivation to do any work if they don't benefit from it? The Community Council doesn't know what to do. The head of the Council suggests that hardship is a price worth paying so that no one's forced to do what they don't want to. Is the Community Council still right? Is hardship a price worth paying to stave off tyranny? If you're one of Marjon's starving masses, then it'd probably be tyranny all the way, although tyrants don't seem to be bothered about fairness, even the ones who claim they're acting on behalf of the people. But ordinary people are not renowned for...

And why do they call it breadfruit? We take a trip to the tropical paradise of Marjon. The people live an idyllic life and are governed by a Community Council. All decisions must be unanimous. One night someone proposes that their crops should be owned collectively and shared out evenly according to need. The Marxists have been in town peddling their own brand of pseudo-religious irrationality. No one is much interested. It seems to promote laziness since anyone can help themselves to the communal store of breadfruit. No one is in need anyway, and if they want more, they can grow more. Is the council member right? Well, in Marjon, the answer seems to be yes. If no one wants food, then there seems no point in a communal store of food. Society seems happy and stable, but if things went pear-shaped – unlikely though that prospect seems to be – then the Marjonians might be up in arms and down in breadfruit. But even if everything wasn't so idyllic, why should there be any sharing? My s...

When students can't make their minds up. We finished yesterday's story with the stupid dog getting itself drowned. It seems that Professor Purple's students were less inclined to be charitable about the dog after the first occasion. But the next day one of them reads out a statement that the prof. flouted his fundamental duty to save the life of a sentient being. Sentient? It's a dog and a very stupid dog at that. It seems that Professor Purple is going to be damned for having done and done not. He rescues the dog – they complain; he doesn't rescue the dog – they complain. I must admit that this is the sort of irrational response I'd expect from the more hysterical members of the student body. Anyway, the result of all the whining is a bunch of protests. What did the professor miss? Well, prof., you should've done what I suggested yesterday. By removing the dog to a place where it either couldn't get into trouble or to a place where it'd become someo...

He's fallen in the water. Professor Purple, already a little late for his lecture, is delayed further by his rescue of a dog which has fallen into the university lake and can't get out. His students forgive him when they learn why his arrival was delayed. The week after, the dog has fallen into the lake again and again the professor's arrival is delayed. His students are now generally feeling less charitable towards the dog. The week after, the stupid creature has done it again. Professor Purple merely informs a porter and gets on with his lecture. His students agree with his policy, and the dog drowns just in time to prevent a rescue. The question is whether there's a flaw in the reasoning of the prof. and his class, or whether the dog's been unlucky. My inclination is that there's a flaw in the reasoning, but pragmatics glosses over it. We've all been in situations where we attempt to help someone or something only to find that we've wasted our efforts...

Don't just eat your veggies. Eat granddad as well. In spite of Nanny's permanent brain sickness and an initial general uncertainty about the likely prosperity of this blog, I find I've reached my 100th post. Today's dilemma is about eating granddad. Or relativism. Professor Quesay has been invited to Granddad Alloi's 70th birthday. But the prof notices that at the celebration itself, Granddad's strangely absent. Actually, he ought to be reconsidering whether he's such an expert in the customs of his hosts because he's forgotten the unforgettable – when someone reaches the age of 70, their children kill them and eat them. The professor isn't so keen on the main course, although it'd be an insult to decline grandpa stew, or his rissoles. Worse than that, the failure to eat granddad is to put a curse on him in the afterlife. So, why shouldn't the prof eat granddadburgers with the same pleasure he had before he was reintroduced to the entrée? I...

More powerful than a Presocratic. Aristotle, Rousseau and Kant are going for a walk when Rousseau notices that a slave girl (wearing a sexy bikini, of course) swimming in the lake has found herself in difficulty. Rousseau has merely made the observation, but is otherwise not inclined to endanger himself. Kant jumps into the water, but finds himself in difficulty in short order. Aristotle rips the branch off a tree, and throws it unerringly to Kant who then extricates the slave girl, and they return to the bank safe and sound. Aristotle praises Kant for his intentions, but is less forgiving about his lapse in common sense. His good intentions just weren't enough. Rousseau, meanwhile, says nothing and merely cops a sneaky feel. Who's the hero? Overall, if we're scoring this on points, then Aristotle. Kant comes second for attempting to be heroic. Rousseau doesn't exactly lose, because he's most likely to score with the slave girl afterwards. That is, of course, unless...

Those bargain executions in full. Another ethics problem, but this time from the book on philosophy problems. You can wait for the conclusion to the story about the magnanimous man until tomorrow or perhaps the day after. Today's story takes us to the fun-loving People's Republic of Diktatia (formerly the Autonomous Soviet Republic of Diktatskaya) where the national pastime is attacking the government. After one attack, the President orders the Security Minister (aka Uncle Bttplgg – yes, they speak one of those languages which thinks vowels are for sissies) to round up the thirty most likely suspects. They're given an ultimatum. They can either tell the authorities who was behind the attack, or they'll all be shot. If they feel like sharing, then two names will be expected. In fact, none of them have the faintest idea who was behind the attack, but they're left with the question whether to save themselves, they should sacrifice two of their number. That seems better...

Magnanimity. John Donne famously told Death not to be proud; but according to one definition of pride, Death could justifiably be proud, because what is not to say that Death doesn't have a good and noble character? That is, goodness and nobility are necessary prerequisites for pride. A proud person is moderately pleased when they are praised by their peers, but not remotely interested when they're praised by lesser mortals or for lesser actions. In other words, pride is not one of the Seven Deadly Sins of snivelling Christian tradition, but a kind of virtue, albeit one that's limited to a small number of allegedly deserving people. The idea comes from Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics . Is pride such a bad thing? If I've achieved something difficult, for example, is it wrong to be proud of my achievement or of myself for achieving it? Or should I only be proud of the thing achieved and let others be proud of me for my achievement? What if there's no one to be prou...

The Pursuit of Constant Pleasure. I know. You're all going to accuse me of being an Epicurean (and thus misunderstanding Epicurus) or a hedonist (and simply misunderstanding me). Today's ethical issue brings us back to the Greek proverb I mentioned a couple of days ago – μηδὲν ἄγαν "nothing in excess". In other words, the happiest state is one where we're satisfied. Wanting more makes us unhappy, although this seems to condemn people who don't have enough to say stupid things such as "At least we have each other". Similarly, an excess of pleasure is merely a temporary state which, again, leaves us wanting more. Am I generally satisfied? Does the Pope shit in the woods? Or bears? (I'm not sure which is the right answer.) I'm more satisfied than I was a few years ago, but still less satisfied than I might be. My expectations of life are still a long way from being fulfilled. But I'm used to being in a situation where my desires are never go...

Or disgrace? Chrysippus the Stoic said that pleasure is not good. There are disgraceful pleasures and nothing disgraceful can be good. Are we talking about you or me, Chrysippus? Your morality or mine? If I assume that someone else will enjoy what I enjoy, then I may be disappointed. Just look at my classes. The book has many exercises of the sort that I enjoyed doing in English class when I was at school, yet I know from long experience that the odds of them enjoying some unit or exercise which I think might stimulate their interest are already against me. In general terms, of all the things which humans find pleasurable, most of us find only a subset of them to be enjoyable. It should be remembered that our subsets don't always coincide. Just because you might like it, doesn't mean that I will.

Advice to the emperor. One day Qin Shihuang was wondering why people didn't live as long as they used to. His chief minister, Qi Bo, should've said, "Well, dude, if you keep massacring whole families, it's no wonder no one's living as long. This is the age of Butchery, Buggery, Burning and Burial. And that's just a fun afternoon out for you. No one else enjoys it. So long as people live in absolute terror of you, they're going to be dropping like flies." But Qi Bo, knowing that the emperor was never in a mood to be gainsaid, waffled on blandly about moderation, regularity, and balance, perhaps hoping that Qin Shihuang would moderate his human rights abuses; be regular in them; and let everyone share in them. Can you imagine the disgrace for prominent families of the realm if the emperor wasn't even bothering to execute any of them? Should the emperor have followed Qi Bo's actual advice? That was his choice. Besides, Qi Bo was just making a few ...

Evil – I'm lovin' it! St Augustine began life as a fairly normal sort of chap and then got religion. He might've been remembered as the most fun person in history. Well, he'd probably be remembered for stealing pears and for enjoying the act rather than the fruit, which was fed to the pigs. The dilemma in the book is whether Augustine knowingly chose to do evil when he became the Pear Tree Raider. But this situation makes me wonder about motivation. We tend to judge people's actions in terms of the reason for that action. It's clear that we have a gradient scale where this reason is sufficient, but that reason is not. We like to know there's a good reason for something. Gustino's reason was the act itself, but this is regarded as weak motivation, and although we might disapprove of theft, we understand if there was some utilitarian purpose behind it. But Gus didn't want the pears for himself or for anyone else; he didn't even steal them for the...

Now you see me; now you don't. What would you do if you had a ring that made you invisible? Would you go round saying "Yesss my preciousss" and falling into rivers of lava? Gyges was shepherd who found a magic ring and abused its power, which culminated in the murder of the king and the usurpation of his throne. I should note that Mrs King was in on the plot and had put out to the invisible man. How easily could we be tempted to do wrong if we had such a ring (provided, of course, Sauron – bit thick if you ask me – hadn't put much of his power into it)? My inclination would be to keep the ring secret for a start. What would I do with such a ring? I don't know. I'm not inclined to larceny; I'm not a stalker; I couldn't use such a thing to eavesdrop because I don't understand Chinese well enough. I couldn't sneak into and out of the airport because I'd still give off a heat signature and thus register on the cameras that check people's t...

The Man is still a Machine. Today's problem is that Dr Descartes is talking about the division of body and soul, which makes the former little more than a machine controlled by the latter, which is independent of it. The question is that if the body's a mere machine and the soul is independent and immortal, then is there any reason why people could not be killed as freely as animals? Of course, this would assume that animals don't have a soul or, at best, have lesser souls than ours, which makes them fair game. When you live a short, miserable life, where Death waits round every corner with Famine, Pestilence and War, perhaps you want some reassurance that there is something beyond death to make the brevity of life seem less of a waste of time. Also, what an odd sort of existence, to be alive so briefly and then spend eternity either strumming a harp on a cloud or having demons prod your arse with pitchforks. The afterlife does seem sadly unproductive, pointless and rather ...

Tighten the nuts. Dr Descartes is now putting forward arguments about how to distinguish people from mere mechanoids. One is that they'd be incapable of using language creatively (i.e., language use that goes beyond what could merely be learnt), even although they might be able to give a verbal response to various stimuli. ("Ouch! You should not poke my diodes like that." "Check out the software on her.") The other is that a machine wouldn't have our range of capabilities, although there might be one thing at which it excels. Unless our brains are badly miswired, humans can produce novel utterances, whereas creatures which can "speak" merely mimic human speech, but are incapable of producing new strings of words. People who are born deaf and dumb still manage to communicate creatively. The question is whether the gulf between humans and animals is that great. Animals have ways of communicating and they aren't exactly wholly specialised in their...

What are we? We continue with the slightly deranged ramblings of Dr Descartes. This time, it's that little matter of free will. If we didn't have free will, then what would be the difference between humans and animals? What's to say that we have free will at all? I'm not saying that some god is the puppet master and we're the marionettes, but what I am saying is that we don't have as much free will as we like to believe. What we do have is choices. If I had an infinite number of choices open to me every time I made a decision, then I'd have free will. But I don't have such choices because my actions often lead me in very specific directions. If I do A, then B is going to result. The only choice I might have is not to proceed to B, although I might, and probably want to do that anyway. Or perhaps we always have infinite choices, but we can instantly exclude 99.99999…% of them. For example, I might need more breakfast cereal. My obvious course of action is...

Continuing from yesterday. I didn't realise that there was a bit more to yesterday's problem than the picture by Hogarth. The next part is about a lecture which involves the lecturer, Dr Descartes, an obvious subscriber to the Confucian School of Animal Rights, cutting the heart out of a live chimpanzee to demonstrate that animals are just machines. But one student notes that what can be said of non-sentient animals can also be said of human beings. The little swot has a point, of course, although while I recognise that humans are part of the animal kingdom, I recognise that we have more going for us than mere instinct. Humane or ethical treatment of animals, yes; but to give them right equal to that of humans is to overpromote them. Besides, Nature's a hard bitch. If lions were the dominant species on the planet and we were still humans anyway, they'd be snacking on us because that's what lions do. It wouldn't be a matter of lions thinking they're better, t...