OK...we are all angry. It has been a good week to raise our voices, proclaim our disgust and make suggestions that go beyond recoup and verge on revenge.
There. Do you feel better now?
Will anything we, the President or the Congress does to recover these funds help the economy recover, establish one new job, save our monetary system, send stocks soaring?
No? Well then, how about moving on the the real stuff. It is not that the anger wasn't deserved. It was. It's not that the perpetrators of this shameful episode shouldn't know what the public thinks. They should. And it is not even that appropriate, considered steps shouldn't be taken in response (Note that response may or may not include recovery.) They should.
But we have bigger fish to fry. Anger over the economy channeled at a convenient, but incorrect target won't get a job, a home, a family or a life back. Instead it will be a distraction working to slow or prevent true recovery. Or to hide the real dilemmas and the real culprits.
Get real. Move on.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
MISSING THE POINT WITH AIG
Who among us is worth a multi-million dollar bonus? Even the justifiable public anger seems to have its face turned in the wrong direction. And shameless greed, while accurate to a large degree, still misses the moral target.
No one is talking here of robbing multi-millionaire Peter, who earned it, to pay street bum Paul, who did no work.
No one is talking here of equal pay for all work, regardless of effort.
No, what we have here is a system so out of whack, so filled with individual greed, so focused on personal gain even at the expense of the hand that feeds you that its workers can no longer distinguish right from wrong; because "that's how the system works."
Or currently, doesn't work. Contrary to common wisdom, it is not the presence of taxpayer dollars which makes this system and its minions wrong. It is just plain, old fashioned wrong.
I am tempted to remind one and all of every time management said during contract negotiations that they could not pay a living wage, provide insurance or allow sick leave because to do so would bankrupt the company. But the current company robbery makes unions look like wimps.
The more potent question we all should be asking is "what is work worth"?
All too often this discussion devolves into comparisons of doctors, daycare, teachers, emergency services - those who directly enhance or save lives versus sales, tradesmen, factory workers, municipal workers - those who keep our lives clean and filled with the material things we both need and want. (My vote goes to Mothers for the highest paid job on earth.)
Such a false premise for dialog can only lead down dead end paths. And one such dead end path is the belief of an individual employee that doing his or her job well should be monetarily rewarded beyond the remuneration set for that job.
For example, what about all those AIG employees who did not receive a bonus? Are we to infer that they did not do their job? That they are about to be fired for failure to perform? Of course not. It is likely they received fair pay for the job they were expected to do and did well.
One irony with AIG is that even they agree that the people who received bonuses are not the only people who could have done the jobs for which bonuses were paid.
So...they did their jobs, probably quite well, and they got paid well for doing those jobs. But bonuses not tied to the well-being of the company for whom all this was supposedly done? Bonuses, based on a single year, not the long haul for the company, lead to a whole lot of freelance "I must get mine and the rest of the world be screwed" attitude.
Still, who are these people so bereft of a moral compass; so blind and deaf to the larger world in which they are a mere disposable piece? Are they a portend or a symptom of what we all have become?
And when will the United States build a country and an economy in which all are paid on how well you do your job and not on which job creates wealth for a select few.
No one is talking here of robbing multi-millionaire Peter, who earned it, to pay street bum Paul, who did no work.
No one is talking here of equal pay for all work, regardless of effort.
No, what we have here is a system so out of whack, so filled with individual greed, so focused on personal gain even at the expense of the hand that feeds you that its workers can no longer distinguish right from wrong; because "that's how the system works."
Or currently, doesn't work. Contrary to common wisdom, it is not the presence of taxpayer dollars which makes this system and its minions wrong. It is just plain, old fashioned wrong.
I am tempted to remind one and all of every time management said during contract negotiations that they could not pay a living wage, provide insurance or allow sick leave because to do so would bankrupt the company. But the current company robbery makes unions look like wimps.
The more potent question we all should be asking is "what is work worth"?
All too often this discussion devolves into comparisons of doctors, daycare, teachers, emergency services - those who directly enhance or save lives versus sales, tradesmen, factory workers, municipal workers - those who keep our lives clean and filled with the material things we both need and want. (My vote goes to Mothers for the highest paid job on earth.)
Such a false premise for dialog can only lead down dead end paths. And one such dead end path is the belief of an individual employee that doing his or her job well should be monetarily rewarded beyond the remuneration set for that job.
For example, what about all those AIG employees who did not receive a bonus? Are we to infer that they did not do their job? That they are about to be fired for failure to perform? Of course not. It is likely they received fair pay for the job they were expected to do and did well.
One irony with AIG is that even they agree that the people who received bonuses are not the only people who could have done the jobs for which bonuses were paid.
So...they did their jobs, probably quite well, and they got paid well for doing those jobs. But bonuses not tied to the well-being of the company for whom all this was supposedly done? Bonuses, based on a single year, not the long haul for the company, lead to a whole lot of freelance "I must get mine and the rest of the world be screwed" attitude.
Still, who are these people so bereft of a moral compass; so blind and deaf to the larger world in which they are a mere disposable piece? Are they a portend or a symptom of what we all have become?
And when will the United States build a country and an economy in which all are paid on how well you do your job and not on which job creates wealth for a select few.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
WATCHING HOUSE
Dr. Gregory House isn't much of a role model either as a doctor or a human being. Not on my list of 'be sure to watch' - or more commonly, record and watch - still I found myself sitting glazed and unmoving in front of House reruns several times in the last few weeks.
I like the show in the same weird 'slowing for an accident' way I suspect is a large part of viewing CSI or NCIS. (Did texting come first or the other way around?)
There is this draw to those shows, and my personal favorite Cold Case, that goes beyond the story line and pulls me in via the group dynamics. It is the interplay of the ensemble that intrigues. Teamwork is represented in all its lively exchange, building on each other, agreeing, disagreeing, good feelings, bad feelings, sharing, withholding and successful glory. Our politics might be better if more politicians watched television.
Yet, House relies more on it's leader and the group doesn't quite make the teamwork definition with House in control. No, House appeals on a much more personal level. Any one of us who has had even the slightest illness, encountered the medical system or just worried about our health couldn't fail to recognize what House means to a patient. It's not his bedside manner you want in your life. You might want to punch him in the nose, but the next time you need a doctor you want one that is as persistent and as brilliant and successful as House.
I like the show in the same weird 'slowing for an accident' way I suspect is a large part of viewing CSI or NCIS. (Did texting come first or the other way around?)
There is this draw to those shows, and my personal favorite Cold Case, that goes beyond the story line and pulls me in via the group dynamics. It is the interplay of the ensemble that intrigues. Teamwork is represented in all its lively exchange, building on each other, agreeing, disagreeing, good feelings, bad feelings, sharing, withholding and successful glory. Our politics might be better if more politicians watched television.
Yet, House relies more on it's leader and the group doesn't quite make the teamwork definition with House in control. No, House appeals on a much more personal level. Any one of us who has had even the slightest illness, encountered the medical system or just worried about our health couldn't fail to recognize what House means to a patient. It's not his bedside manner you want in your life. You might want to punch him in the nose, but the next time you need a doctor you want one that is as persistent and as brilliant and successful as House.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
ON THE ROAD AGAIN Part 5: Final Thoughts
Airline flights around the country dotted my professional life. My favorite parts of each flight were the ascent and descent where the lives of those below played out in streets and buildings and homes that could be seen from above. My mind whirled furiously as I tried to imagine not only what people below were doing, but why the landscape told me their stories.
Fields, farms, row homes, mansions, rural, industrial, suburb, city, lush, dry, busy, silent, gravel or paved; each landscape begat the people therein. And within each landscape were individuals, families, friends and strangers - past and present - acting upon one another to shape their lives.
For me, travel by any mode of transportation brings not only personal pleasure, but expanded knowledge. Knowledge of our global condition, both shared and unique. It's hard not to become a cheerleader for how much more we understand if we see with our own eyes, hear with our own ears and touch with our own hands the varieties of our world. The fanciest computer, photos or video can never really fully match being there.
And knowledge becomes understanding, concern, compassion and a willingness to act on behalf of others as well as ourselves.
Sadly, despite global expansion, less travel may be one more consequence of our collective failure to resolve the environmental issues upon which travel depends; bound further by the current economic crisis.
Perhaps not, but it is up to us. Each generation must now only share what it knows of the world, but make it possible for future generations to discover their own reality in our rapidly changing world.
Fields, farms, row homes, mansions, rural, industrial, suburb, city, lush, dry, busy, silent, gravel or paved; each landscape begat the people therein. And within each landscape were individuals, families, friends and strangers - past and present - acting upon one another to shape their lives.
For me, travel by any mode of transportation brings not only personal pleasure, but expanded knowledge. Knowledge of our global condition, both shared and unique. It's hard not to become a cheerleader for how much more we understand if we see with our own eyes, hear with our own ears and touch with our own hands the varieties of our world. The fanciest computer, photos or video can never really fully match being there.
And knowledge becomes understanding, concern, compassion and a willingness to act on behalf of others as well as ourselves.
Sadly, despite global expansion, less travel may be one more consequence of our collective failure to resolve the environmental issues upon which travel depends; bound further by the current economic crisis.
Perhaps not, but it is up to us. Each generation must now only share what it knows of the world, but make it possible for future generations to discover their own reality in our rapidly changing world.
ON THE ROAD AGAIN Part 4: Rhyolite & Manzanar
While Death Valley presented more than adequate opportunities for exploration, two forays out of the park, one east and one west, served as highlights for our vacation. Both sites flourished for only a few years, but each served very different purposes in intent, emotion and the impression left on our national psyche.
Just a few miles past Death Valley's eastern boundary, delineated by the California/Nevada border, lies the ghost town of Rhyolite, Nevada. Springing to life at the beginning of the twentieth century it was spawned of mines, gold and hope - perhaps foolish, perhaps not - of a better life in a new territory. No small town, Rhyolite boasted nearly 10,000 people in its heyday. In addition to the usual train depot, churches, stores, saloons and lodging houses, Rhyolite had 8 doctors, 2 dentists, a stock exchange and an opera. The largest ghost town in the Death Valley area, many ruins remain and it is easy to imagine the vitality, ambition and faith in the future which was present for a few short years.
Stark contrast lies outside the western boundary of Death Valley; over the Panamint mountains and into Owens Valley. Manzanar Japanese War Relocation Center, active from 1942-1945, opened as a National Historical Site only in 2004. The former Assembly Hall and School for the camp houses the beautifully done displays and is one of few buildings still standing. Except for a guard tower. Its brief and painful life speaks of fear, angiush and national shame yet also resilience.
Serendipitously, last fall my book club read Farewell to Manzanar, an early and moving account of one family forced into the internment camp. Words from the book rose into clear pictures among the hardscrabble, dusty and now vacant landscape. From any angle, the guard tower is a startling reminder that no person inside, mostly American citizens, was here by choice. The graveyard, also the site of a lovely memorial, stands as concrete permanence in opposition to the windswept desolation alternately revealing and hiding the scars of a national mistake.
Just a few miles past Death Valley's eastern boundary, delineated by the California/Nevada border, lies the ghost town of Rhyolite, Nevada. Springing to life at the beginning of the twentieth century it was spawned of mines, gold and hope - perhaps foolish, perhaps not - of a better life in a new territory. No small town, Rhyolite boasted nearly 10,000 people in its heyday. In addition to the usual train depot, churches, stores, saloons and lodging houses, Rhyolite had 8 doctors, 2 dentists, a stock exchange and an opera. The largest ghost town in the Death Valley area, many ruins remain and it is easy to imagine the vitality, ambition and faith in the future which was present for a few short years.
Stark contrast lies outside the western boundary of Death Valley; over the Panamint mountains and into Owens Valley. Manzanar Japanese War Relocation Center, active from 1942-1945, opened as a National Historical Site only in 2004. The former Assembly Hall and School for the camp houses the beautifully done displays and is one of few buildings still standing. Except for a guard tower. Its brief and painful life speaks of fear, angiush and national shame yet also resilience.
Serendipitously, last fall my book club read Farewell to Manzanar, an early and moving account of one family forced into the internment camp. Words from the book rose into clear pictures among the hardscrabble, dusty and now vacant landscape. From any angle, the guard tower is a startling reminder that no person inside, mostly American citizens, was here by choice. The graveyard, also the site of a lovely memorial, stands as concrete permanence in opposition to the windswept desolation alternately revealing and hiding the scars of a national mistake.
A visit to Manzanar leaves a lasting impression of sadness and despair, not merely for the internees, but for our country. Perhaps its very existence as an official national site provides the glimmer of hope and the path ahead for learning from the past.
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