Fear and Loathing of Madison Avenue

US network television in recent years has become shy and predictable, not very groundbreaking, with a tendency to be extremely formulaic. When other networks saw that CSI was successful, for example, they started developing their own forensics shows to see if they could emulate those ratings. Once Glee became a hit on Fox, NBC responded with Smash. The slew of reality shows coming hard and fast on every network are another illustration of the way the networks mimic each other in an attempt to keep ahead in the race.

Truly radical, remarkable television is becoming rare on the US networks. Some cable networks are changing the dynamics a bit, and meanwhile PBS is achieving astounding success with British imports like Downton Abbey. The British media struggle to make sense of why the show is so popular in the US, probing deep into our psyche and attempting to explain our strange fascination with it; it’s apparently inconceivable that some of us just like good television and are excited to have a show we can really sink our teeth into. Maybe we like it for that reason alone, and no particular motivation beyond that, because some of us happen to like good television.

There are a lot of explanations for why network television in the US seems to be on the decline. Some people point to the changing landscape of media as a whole, and the impact this has had on television. Viewers are using more platforms to follow their favourite shows, may not always see advertisements, don’t gather around the television at the appointed time to catch something. They also have differing expectations from their television, and these changing demands and standards force networks to adapt if they want to continue growing and attracting viewers.

A deep fear of advertisers also seems to be playing a role. Advertisers have growing clout at the same time that they are increasingly vulnerable to outside pressure. Since the nature of media is shifting and advertisers have so many options, television shows have to appeal to them, and offer a good deal, for them to be willing to fork over the cash for a spot on a show. A handful of shows have highly competitive commercial slots, while others are less so, and networks struggle to make them more competitive in order to attract funding.

Meanwhile, consumers are more aggressive than ever about pressuring advertisers, in larger part because of social media. If something appears on a show and viewers dislike it, they can look up the advertisers and the brands involved in product placement and shoot them complaints. They can organise campaigns to put pressure on advertisers, demanding that they withdraw support. This pressure comes from all areas of the political spectrum, from members of the religious right protesting abortion storylines to progressives demanding to know why advertisers are willing to be associated with shows that contain offensive content.

Advertisers are more cautious about what they associate with because they do not want to alienate their base, a base which has become a lot more vocal and powerful. They are extremely careful when it comes to the kind of material presented on television shows alongside their ads, and because networks need their support, they have more vetting power over what does and does not appear. Producers warn creative teams away from storylines that are likely to upset advertisers, run potentially sensitive subjects past sponsors, and effectively live in fear of advertisers. Agencies get to dictate the nature and presentation of content on television, and this means that what consumers see is really shaped by advertisers, from beginning to end.

Not just the ads themselves, but the content sandwiched between them. For every ‘controversial’ storyline that does manage to make it to air, many more end up on the writing room floor, never to be spoken of again, because they represent too much risk for the network. Forced to think about bottom lines, the network wants to appease prospective advertisers and knows that the most effective way to do so is to keep content light. Unchallenging. Neutral.

This is one of the reasons US television is not as exciting as it could be, or as it once was. Great creators have their expression limited by simple economic concerns. Once advertisers start to withdraw support, it can create a ripple effect as more and more companies pull out. They don’t want to be associated with controversy, and suddenly a single advertiser cutting ties can turn into a cluster, an event that will be thoroughly covered by the media, leaving the show without sponsorship because of a creative decision.

The decision may have been a good one for the show and for the characters, it may have been the right move, but it would also be the show’s death knell. So producers warn their writers and their creative teams, direct the focus of shows with advertisers in mind. They make small moves that they present as ‘bold’ and ‘revolutionary’ so viewers don’t feel like they’re watching a watered-down version of television that doesn’t have any real spirit or teeth.

And thus, shows are rewarded for storylines that really aren’t innovative or remarkable at all, because there’s nothing else to take note of, and nothing else to celebrate. It creates a system that feeds itself, as creators retreat to safe ground to retain good relationships with advertisers and are rewarded for it. They take home diversity awards and other recognitions, they remain employed, the network wants to continue working with them into the future.

Viewers, meanwhile, are left wondering why they’re still watching television at all, if it’s going to be so dull.

31 March, 2012 – 10:23 am | By s.e. smith | Posted in television | Tagged , |

Laying Some History On You: ‘Yellow Peril,’ Anti-Coolie Sentiments, and Institutional Racism

In the 1800s, Chinese labourers began flocking to the Americas seeking work, many traveling on board dangerous ships and into even more dangerous situations. They made minimal pay, had few to no legal protections, and were a driving labour force in South America long before they started looking to California with the Gold Rush of the 1850s and the promise of wealth it had. Contract labourers or ‘coolies1‘ as they were known headed for California in the hopes of finding their fortunes, and encountered discrimination when they got there.

White agitators organised boycotts and took other measures to drive Chinese labourers out of their communities. They argued that contract labourers were undercutting them, making it harder for them to find work, and many people supported them:

In the 1870s, the Anti-Coolies Association and the Supreme Order of the Caucasians ran boycotts of Chinese businesses and laborers and caused riots in Chinatowns across the West. Many immigrants returned to China, while others fled to San Francisco, home to the largest Chinese community and Chinatown in the United States.

White labour unions did not want Chinese or other Asian labourers entering the market for reasons of racism, but they of course made it about finances. They warned that respected US citizens would have trouble finding work with all the discount labour around, since Chinese workers were willing to work for much less to support their families in China. And, of course, they raised the spectre of the ‘yellow peril,’ suggesting that the US was in danger from China and the influx of Chinese workers. Chinese labourers were labeled thieves and rapists, a threat to society, a danger in particular to white women.

In 1862, anti-contract labourer activists accomplished two rather significant legislative victories in California and Congress, respectively, both of which are sometimes known as ‘anti-Coolie laws.’ The first was a law in California that specifically targeted Chinese workers. In ‘An Act to Protect Free White Labor Against Competition With Chinese Coolie Labor, and To Discourage the Immigration of the Chinese Into the State of California,’ legislators required Chinese workers to pay a $2.50 monthly tax to remain in California. Many made less than a dollar a day. The legislature’s move was designed to make it difficult for Chinese labourers to survive, and to send a clear message to people in China considering immigration; come to California, and you’ll have to pay for the privilege of living there.

On the national level, Congress passed ‘An Act to Prohibit the ‘Coolie Trade’ by American Citizens in American Vessels,’ targeting the people involved in the movement of Chinese labourers. It specified that US citizens could not be involved in the transportation of labourers and set fines for those caught doing it, but assured people that ‘voluntary emigrants’ would still be allowed into the United States, of course, as long as they carried a consular certificate. Vessels involved in the trade could be seized by the United States, which was authorized to take possession of their contents and use them or sell them at auction.

Both laws created a hostile culture for Chinese immigration, and were structured specifically to target Chinese, not labourers from other nations. The message sent to China was clear: The United States was interested in cheap labour, but wasn’t interested in granting Chinese immigrants full rights, and was unhappy with the amount of immigration occurring. So it was ready to fight, in the form of a series of laws designed to make it not only hard to get to the United States, but hard to work and survive, as well.

This is only a small sampling of laws designed to limit Chinese immigration and specifically attacking contract labourers. There is much to criticise about the historic use of contract labour, including the fact that some people were tricked into traveling to the United States, abused and treated like garbage by their ‘employers,’ and forced to labour in harsh and dangerous conditions. Yet, these weren’t the issues politicians were worried by in the 1800s. The concern was not about how to protect Chinese workers, but specifically how to erase them from the landscape in the United States, replacing them with the white workers who agitated against them.

It is rhetoric that rings especially familiar now, as crackdowns on South and Central American immigrants are used by the government to squeeze people out of the workforce. Citizens are assured that no ‘legitimate’ immigrants will be harmed by such laws, but of course they are, as indeed are US citizens caught in the ripples of such laws. The same kind of tactics used in the 1800s against Asian immigrants can be seen now as the government attempts to cut off support, limit access to social circles, crack down on immigration, and drive people deeper and deeper underground.

The end result of these laws will probably be similar to that seen in the 1800s, when Chinese immigrants facing a shrinking number of occupations and safe environments clustered in highly insular and private communities where they struggled to make a living. The institutional racism that forbade them so many avenues of employment also played a role in how they interacted with the justice system, where they couldn’t even testify against whites, could be condemned on minimal evidence, and rarely received justice for crimes against their communities committed by white people.

These laws were specifically designed to protect white communities and their values, and it is chilling to see them reenacted over 100 years later in a nation that claims to have learned from the impact of anti-Chinese racism in the 1800s.

  1. Note for those not aware: In modern English this is a racial slur. ↩
30 March, 2012 – 10:04 am | By s.e. smith | Posted in race | Tagged , |

Notes From the Urban/Rural Divide: Accents

I have an accent that most people would consider fairly innocuous. It is ‘standard.’ It is the kind of accent well-educated Californians have, one that sounds unremarkable to many ears and would not be considered unacceptable in public spaces, including in the corridors of power. I grew up with a native English speaker, interacted with lots of educated native English speakers in childhood, and continue to so, and therein lie the origins of my accent. It is a powerful and useful social tool, because I can sound authoritative when I speak. More than that, I can sound informed, confident, and, yes, educated.

I sound like a person who should be listened to, like someone who has something to say. In part, my accent is a class marker. It may not tell you how much money I make, but it tells you that I grew up in an educated household and interact with a specific social circle. It is also, to some extent, a locational marker. Most people in my rural area are close enough to the Bay Area to have accents very similar to mine. That is not the case with everyone, of course, but my accent is not uncommon here. No one looks at me oddly when I open my mouth, and I don’t sound like I am putting on airs when I speak to people in my community. My voice is ‘ordinary’ for the kind of locations I frequent.

When I’m out of state, it’s often obvious to tell that I’m from Somewhere Else, but my accent is usually considered inoffensive and within the bounds of normality. I may not be From Here, wherever Here is, but I clearly have the markers people look for when deciding whether to listen to someone, or turn away.

This is not the case with all people from rural areas. Some regions are more isolated by social and class barriers or simply geography, and they have their own distinct regional accents and sometimes dialects. They sound different. As with me, their accents are nothing extraordinary in their communities, but when they open their mouths somewhere else, their accents mark them clearly and unequivocally as ‘other.’ And not just other, but not worthy of respect.

Many well-educated people who grew up in urban areas on the West Coast have accents similar to mine. There are also other urban accents from other parts of the United States, including lower-class urban accents. As with their rural counterparts, lower class urban people have voices that become social markers used to isolate them. They don’t ‘speak correctly’ and this makes them targets for a number of embedded associations about what your accent says about you and who you are.

There is a very common belief that rural accents are markers of poor education and limited intelligence, as well as poor manners. If you ‘sound country,’ you are clearly not worthy of interacting with educated people from urban areas. This has been a continual joke in pop culture for literally centuries; rural accents have been targets of fun in plays, songs, stories, film, and television for a very long time. All you need to do is insert a character with key markers of rural origins, and whether the drama is set for a Chinese audience or a US one, people will instantly get the reference. They understand what is being said through that character and with that character’s voice.

Rural Southern accents in particular are highly stigmatised in the North, particularly in these oh-so-enlightened urban hotbeds of intellectualism in places like San Francisco, Chicago, and New York City. People attempt to imitate rural accents when they make fun of each other, they tease people with Southern accents, they make dismissive comments about public figures who have obvious Southern accents. Many of my friends from the South have two voices; the one they use in public and in interactions with people from outside the community, and the one they use in private among friends and family.

They have learned this as a survival tactic, because they are not taken seriously when they use their original accents, especially if they come from lower-class Southern backgrounds. So they have developed different voices to use for different audiences, in full awareness that they need to conceal part of their identity if they want to be respected. People are sometimes surprised to learn about their real accents, because they hide them so thoroughly.

Accents are complex social markers; they can betray someone’s geographical and racial origins, class, and native tongue. They can be tools for accessing power and control, and they can also be used against people, to keep them in lesser positions and remind them that they are not considered members of society. If you have an accent people consider rural, you’re a hick with no redeeming qualities, in the eyes of people with cultivated, educated accents. Your opinion doesn’t matter, you have no potential, you aren’t educated, and you probably have narrow-minded conservative politics.

All because your accent. Simply by opening your mouth, you put yourself in a position to be judged and classified by people who may not even be listening to the words, because they are listening to your accent and making decisions about you on the basis of what they hear. Or think they hear. They hear the country in your voice, and think that means they know something about you. Who cares what you’re saying, when your voice says it all?

29 March, 2012 – 10:30 am | By s.e. smith | Posted in politics | Tagged , , , |

Forced Sterilisation Still Happens to People With Disabilities

Conversations about forced sterilisation of people with disabilities often focus on discussions of ‘what happened in the past,’ and how this sort of thing does not happen any more. Thus, it is not an issue that people need to be concerned with now, and shouldn’t be considered a pressing reproductive rights topic.

This is not true. Forced sterilisation continues to happen to people with disabilities, as well as other marginalised groups; several nations, for example, have policies that effectively force binary trans people to get sterilised if they want their genders to be legally recognised. In order to change their names on their identifications, they have to provide proof of reconstructive surgery, which involves eliminating reproductive capacity.

Forced sterilisation happens to people like Ashley X, who was subjected to a number of nonconsensual medical procedures. It happens in institutions where people appointed as guardians for people with disabilities opt for sterilisation, citing a number of reasons; periods are traumatic for a woman with developmental disabilities, for example, or they are worried about the risk of pregnancy1. In these cases, people are not given agency and autonomy and they are not included in this decision. It is done without their consent and they may be lied to about the nature of the procedure and why it is being performed.

This is considered permissible because institutionalised people with appointed guardians are not treated as full human beings. Just like underage people, their guardians can make life and death decisions for them against their will, and effectively control their bodies. The guardians get to decide which treatments they receive and how. While there would probably be some moral outrage if a parent attempted to have a child sterilised, if that child was disabled, there would be little protest. Likewise for disabled adults who are sterilised at the behest of their guardians.

Or on court order. A judge ruled in January that a mentally ill woman should be forced to have an abortion, followed by sterilisation:

Earlier this [January], a Norfolk probate judge declared a pregnant woman with schizophrenia incompetent and ordered her to undergo an abortion, stating she could be ‘coaxed, bribed, or even enticed’ into the hospital for the procedure…Unbidden, the judge further directed that the 32-year-old woman be sterilized ‘to avoid this painful situation from recurring in the future.’’

This is the world that we live in, one where a judge feels free to directly interfere with the bodily autonomy and reproductive freedom of another human being simply because that human being is considered ‘incompetent.’ This judge also violated ‘Mary Moe’s’ religious freedom, insisting on an abortion despite the fact that Moe is a devout Catholic and considers abortion a sin. Terminating the pregnancy, the judge argued, would allow the patient to take antipsychotic medications that can’t be used in pregnancy due to danger; the judge was issuing an order that told the patient what to do with her body, and how to manage her mental illness.

Thankfully, this decision was later reversed, but it’s certainly not the only one of its kind, it’s simply one that happened to attract media attention. Forced sterilisation of people with disabilities is rarely covered in the mainstream or progressive media because it’s not considered a topic of much interest. This is largely because many people accept the idea that it is something that should happen; even if they may feel slightly uncomfortable about it, they still support the idea overall because they think it is ‘for the person’s own good’ or makes life easier for caregivers. Or, though few will admit this, they believe forced sterilisation of people with disabilities benefits society as a whole.

Yet, this should be a topic of interest, especially in progressive and particularly feminist spaces. People who are fighting for the right to choose must fight for all choices, and that includes full bodily autonomy and the right to retain your capacity for reproduction, to carry a pregnancy to term. The fact that this case attracted very minimal attention in reproductive justice circles was troubling, though not unusual. It did attract attention in the disability community and was viewed as a ‘disability issue.’

But it wasn’t just that. It was a gender issue, and it was a bodily autonomy issue, and it was a reproductive justice issue. The fact that judges can compel people to receive abortions and be sterilised, and tricked, no less, into undergoing these procedures, is a problem. It’s a problem that the reproductive rights movement needs to be paying attention to, because this is no slippery slope argument, here. This is a clear-cut case of the state deciding it has rights over the body of an individual, and believing that it can make complex personal medical decisions by virtue of declaring someone ‘incompetent.’

The evaluation process required for determining legal competence can vary, and many people may be certain that they would never be declared incompetent, and that the system is designed to identify only those who truly lack capacity for decision making, but what does it mean to be able to make decisions? Mary Moe knew what she wanted, and in a second evaluation, authorities independently determined that she would still refuse an abortion if she was legally competent. That sounds a lot like she had the agency and capacity to make a choice in this case, and the court attempted to take that away from her.

This case highlighted the contempt with which society views mentally ill people. Despite considerable gains in recent years, autonomy is still not a given, and capacity hearings are still a potential risk when the people around a patient can make a few phone calls if they don’t like what the patient is doing. Compulsory medication programmes, court orders like this, forced sterilisation in institutions, all of these are tied to the idea that the bodies of mentally ill people are not their own.

  1. Since pregnancy in institutions is usually the result of rape, there are some sinister underpinnings here. ↩
28 March, 2012 – 10:56 am | By s.e. smith | Posted in disability | Tagged , |

I’m Already Done With Political Advertising, and It’s Only March

Here is what I hate about Presidential election years: The advertising. I hate it with a flaming passion and it gets worse and worse every year, and it’s starting to spill over into other elections too as more and more money becomes involved in political campaigning. With money comes an endless stream of radio and television spots, unwanted mail, and other intrusions into your life attempting to sway your politics left or right, to make you vote this or that way on a given initiative, to inform you that candidate A is giving everyone a free pony while candidate B hates puppies.

I don’t have a television and don’t listen to very much radio, but I’m still surrounded by political advertising. It’s becoming extremely hard to avoid, and it’s pissing me off. As a voter, I have concerns about the way advertising is used to manipulate people, and how some consumers may not have the resources to sift through facts and lies, to follow the money, to find out more about the messages they are being fed. I dislike the heavy influence that campaign contributions have on elections, and think voters need to be empowered with tools they can use to make their own decisions, rather than being guided into them by canny ads.

As an individual, the constant stream of advertising materials is infuriating. I hate ads and take considerable steps to avoid them where I can, and I dislike having them thrust in my face constantly, with no break from the incessant messaging.

I can’t imagine what it must be like for people with radio and television, judging from the deluge of campaign advertising I’m already dealing with. My landline, which very few people call, is ringing multiple times a day some days, often at very inconvenient hours, usually with robocalls, which are not legal in California—no, not even for political campaigns. Some even call my cellphone, which they are not supposed to do, because I shouldn’t have to pay for the privilege of being robocalled by someone I would never vote for, never in a million years. I don’t know how they got that number, and when I trace the source to attempt to complain, it usually ends in a dead-end.

My mailbox is overflowing with election-related crap every time I go to the post office. To be fair, I don’t go there on a regular basis, but a few day’s accumulation of mail shouldn’t be so immense that it’s actually impossible to pull out my mail because so much is wedged in. When I go through it, I find that 90% of the bulk is campaign advertising, 8% is bills, and the remaining 2% is the obnoxious weekly circular from the drugstore that ends up in everyone’s mail boxes. As I dump the unwanted political mail into the recycling bin by the door, I can’t help but notice that it’s overflowing with copies of the same flyer or brochure, some slick politician’s face smiling on the front cover, or a list of supporting organizations encouraging you, yes you, to support a ballot measure.

I’m tired of it. I’m in election burnout and the primary isn’t here yet, let alone the actual election. I understand on a rational level why election advertising ramps up every year, and the sort of arms race that happens with campaign promotions. As one person adds advertising, the other needs to follow suit, as one group gets mailers out against a ballot measure, supporters need to counter, but I really just want it to stop. Simply banning advertising doesn’t sit quite right with me because it is still an expression of free speech, it’s just not free speech I want to hear.

Opt-out systems seem like one way to handle it, but they would be expensive and difficult to implement. As it stands now, I can’t ask the post office to selectively not deliver any campaign materials to me, and they are not treated like junk mail in terms of providing an option to opt out in many cases. Likewise, I can’t actually opt out of political phone calls because they are exempt from the do not call list. I can complain about robocalls and attempt to get people nailed, and I do, but when it’s a live person on the line there’s nothing I can do, other than be extremely grumpy but try my best not to take it out on the phonebanker.

It’s a reminder of all the intrusive things that surround me; I have no choice when it comes to being exposed to campaign advertising. The intrusion of ads in general into all spaces is on the rise, and it is sometimes hard to tell the difference between ads and legitimate content. This is why, of course, publications like newspapers have to clearly mark ads, but the lines are blurring. If a television show promotes a product, is it an ad? Or just a product placement? If I choose to use a specific service as a feed reader and it inserts ads, can I complain?

Political advertising is a scourge I dread every year, most particularly the invasive calls to my home, particularly when they happen after hours. Once you let a genie out of the lamp, you can’t exactly stuff it back in, so it appears we are stuck with this, the ads that increase in frequency and intensity every year, the endless campaign promotions filled with lies and half-truths deliberately constructed to deceive, the phone calls that come while you are eating dinner or trying to care for family members or perform any number of tasks in the comfort of your own home, a place where people should not be allowed to call to harangue you about politics.

If the balloting process is supposed to be secret, surely people from political campaigns should not be allowed to call my home to demand to know how I plan to vote.

27 March, 2012 – 10:40 am | By s.e. smith | Posted in politics | Tagged , , |

Heavy Expectations: Grief and Performance

Our society has a deeply conflicted relationship with grief. It doesn’t really want to see grief and mourning or be made aware that they happen and that people experience real sensations of pain and loss. People want to see grief neatly boxed away and tidied up, want to see people ‘moving on,’ by which they mean that the subject will never arise again and the deceased should simply be forgotten. At the same time, though, they also demand performances of grief; the bereaved is expected to walk the walk and will be viewed as suspect for not performing grief in the expected way.

People seem to maintain a sort of internal rubric for acceptable grief levels, based on degree of relation with the deceased. Dead parents and children rank high on this scale, as intense personal losses that would be intensely traumatic. Siblings. Partners. The rubric tends to rate down aunts and uncles, cousins, more distant relatives. Friends. Pets. For each, there is an assigned level of grief that is allowed, and you should not exceed it, but you also shouldn’t perform below standards.

Not everyone grieves in the same way. Some people may be deeply, deeply upset but they don’t communicate it in ways that are familiar to others. When one friend of mine lost her mother, her boss made arrangements for her to take time off work, but she said she didn’t want time off, and came to work anyway, and worked. People called her cold and hard even though she sobbed at home for months—she just needed one thing, work, to anchor herself to the world, to give herself something normal to do, something to focus on. One place that she didn’t associate with her mother, that was hers. And people condemned her for not grieving the way she was supposed to.

Some people are criers and screamers and tearers of hair. Others look at photo albums or lie quietly in bed. Others work ferociously. Grief takes many forms and they are all valid, despite the beliefs of those who seem to think there is one right way to grieve. Some people want to share their grief with the people around them because they cannot imagine a world without the deceased and they want to cry it out to the heavens and make sure everyone knows. Others are more private and prefer to mourn in closer circles, or entirely alone. The fact that someone isn’t manifesting an outward appearance of grief doesn’t mean that person is not mourning.

And others have nothing to mourn, which many people seem to find particularly discomfiting, especially when they lose someone close under the grief rubric. People are disturbed by the idea that someone might not mourn a parent, for example, and place judgments on that person for not performing grief. There are all kinds of reasons why people may be past the point of mourning; perhaps that parent was hostile and abusive and the survivor is finally free at last. Maybe that parent disowned the child for reasons of identity or affiliation, and the child has lived for years with a parent who is effectively dead. Maybe that child drifted apart from the parent, joined a close religious sect that doesn’t permit contact with outsiders.

It is not for us to speculate why someone might not experience grief after the loss of someone else. Perhaps it is not a loss at all. It might frighten us to think about it, the idea that someone might not mourn. Society puts tremendous pressure on people in this situation. Either they need to perform grief they do not feel to satisfy the needs of those around them, the people who want to see them manifesting emotion, or they need to explain why they are not grieving, which requires disclosing personal information. Information that may be sensitive and uncomfortable for them to discuss.

The pressure to grieve publicly and to do so in a certain way is yet another thing for people to navigate in the wake of a loss. They must do it just right or be branded as cold, or too emotional, or any number of other unpleasant things people can come up with to describe people who do not stick within the confines of the rubric. It is not enough to admit that yes, you have experienced a loss and you want to process it in your own way, not when you are living in a world where everyone thinks that everything is their business, right down to how you deal, or do not deal, with the death of someone in your life.

Pop culture repeatedly stresses the right way to perform grief, whether it’s television shows or novels, and the personal columns people write about death and grieving, the memoirs, also tend to fall within a very narrow range. A model of acceptable grieving behaviour for everyone to take note of. Those who dare to stray outside the lines attract eyebrows, because they are breaking the rules, suggesting perhaps that the rules should be broken and maybe don’t belong there in the first place. And this, we simply cannot have, because it would create a world where people could mourn how they want to, without having to consider what society wants for them during a time that may already be an extremely difficult one.

Death and dying are tangled, messy, complex things. Responses to them cannot be neatly summed up in a set of rules for everyone to read and obey, because death itself does not obey. Death is a cheater, a thief, a sneak, a stealer, and in the face of that, sometimes you have to fight dirty.

26 March, 2012 – 10:10 am | By s.e. smith | Posted in commentary | Tagged , , , |

On the Outside Looking In: Class and Home Shows

With the explosion of reality television in the early 21st century came a particular genre: The home show. Whether people are swapping houses and decorating rooms, demonstrating home improvement techniques, hunting for real estate, or showing off their cribs, viewers love to tune in for a look at other people’s houses. Some entries in this genre are mainstays for their network and have become an important part of popular culture; chances are you caught at least one of the references above, and may even have seen an episode. Or two. Or possibly make sure to record them whenever they air.

The home show is a fascinating exploration of class and aspiration in the United States, because it says so much about the observers. Reality television is very much about being on the outside and looking in, viewing the world through the lens the producers have placed upon it to frame something in a particular way. As an outsider, you are acutely aware that this is not your world, and that you are instead being granted a look into someone else’s life and habitat. You explore it and relate with it as someone who isn’t part of it.

Many of these shows are very aspirational, or designed to be so. People are showing off their houses, letting viewers see what they can do with their available resources, and the specific looks created on design and home improvement shows are signals to viewers. They let people know what they should be aspiring to and trying for in their own lives, creating a sort of code. When marble counters are in, everyone wants marble counters, or at least something that looks like it, and people know they’re in because they show up on home improvement shows, letting them know, as outside observers, what the insiders are doing.

The showcasing of real estate is also designed to be aspirational. Some people watch these shows because they want a glimpse inside homes they will never see in person, but also because they want to bask in the idea of these kinds of houses. They know they will never be wealthy enough to own high-value property, and thus can only view it as an invited guest, an outside observer, while at the same time longing to be on the inside. Shows aimed at a more middle class demographic push the American dream of home ownership, encouraging viewers to take part in the system of home buying and sales to find realisation and meaning in their lives.

These shows are rooted in the idea that home ownership is something everyone should aspire to, and is also something that many people have achieved. You need home improvement tips because you own a home, and thus need to make sure it is beautiful and stylish. These shows do not profile renters or tout the advantages of renting; in fact, they often imply that renting makes you substandard. It’s okay as a temporary measure, but isn’t really the done thing. People shouldn’t aspire to remain renters for life.

Messaging in home shows is often subtle, but it’s still there. Looking between the lines, you see a world where home ownership is the pinnacle of class achievement, and where owning things is a marker of social success. You see a lifestyle modeled for you that you should aspire to, as a viewer, because it is the dream, the goal, the end purpose of life. It is also modeled as a way to show you how you can use class signaling; you may not have the money the design team or the homeowner does, but now you know which look is ‘in’ and you can fake it as best you can to fool the people around you.

Because signaling membership in a higher social class is often also projected as aspirational. No one wants to look poor. People may want to look ‘funky’ or ‘bohemian,’ but not poor, and these differences are clearly distinguished for the benefit of any viewers who might have trouble distinguishing between ‘art’ and ‘trash.’ At the same time, lower class viewers are reminded that their world is trashy, because it’s not ‘artful’ in the way that these careful and deliberate designs are. Garbage becomes a ‘found object’ in an ‘eclectic and edgy living space’ when it’s presented by a designer on television and it has an exciting backstory, but it’s just garbage if it’s in your yard or perched on your mantle, backstory or no.

These shows demonstrate to viewers how to do it ‘right,’ how to live in a society with very specific and detailed rules about what you can aspire to and how you can express it. Whether you are peering at the homes of the rich and famous and learning about all the things you will never have—unless you get off your lazy ass and bootstrap your way into Grammy-winning fame—or you are viewing a ‘design on a budget’ show that shows you how to conceal the shameful and awful fact that you are poor, you’re learning about how pop culture wants you to live. You’re learning about how to send the ‘right’ messages and signals to the people around you, Oh Aspiring Homeowner, because you wouldn’t want to make a misstep and reveal how gauche and tragic you truly are.

You will always be an outsider, but for a little while, you can pretend you are someone on the inside, someone who knows, the kind of person who matters and might be featured in a reality TV series for your artfully constructed drapes. You can make your home look like that of an insider, become that which you consume instead of being trapped on the far side of the glass.

25 March, 2012 – 10:50 am | By s.e. smith | Posted in economy | Tagged , |

Anyone Can Be A Rapist

Rape statistics are extremely difficult to untangle, and a wide variety of numbers get thrown around, but it’s hard to pin down which one is accurate. Statistics for cis women are more widely discussed and reported, while statistics for cis men are harder to access and are probably even less reliable. Coverage of the trans population is even more sketchy. Thus, it’s hard to say exactly how many people are likely to be raped in their lifetimes, although it is definitely safe to say that even one rape is too many.

Someone, though, needs to be doing all of this raping, because rape requires at least two people. There is a common perception of the rapist as a murky figure who jumps out of the bushes, and a great deal of work has gone into breaking down that perception. Acquaintance rape is much more common, involving a rapist the victim knows and may be familiar with—could even be in an intimate relationship with, in fact. While the popular media may continue to maintain outdated ideas about who rapes and why, progressive circles have really changed the way they talk about rape, rapists, and victims.

Rape is rarely neat, tidy, and easy to define. It very rarely stays within the boundaries defined by traditional media, of a victim fighting and struggling and screaming ‘no’ while an attacker rapes. Sometimes it is within the boundaries of a relationship, where a ‘soft no1‘ isn’t taken seriously. It does not necessarily involve penetration. It is not necessarily perpetrated by men against women. There is not necessarily physical violence, and emotional coercion can take many forms. Many progressives recognise this in conversations about rape and how to address it in society, noting that narrow definitions can really harm victims/survivors and make it hard to seriously tackle the subject, to get people to stop committing rape.

These circles, though, have trouble talking about specific instances of rape that occur within them2. Progressives widely believe that they, themselves, cannot be rapists, because they are progressive and they care about social issues and they think about rape, consent, and gender equality on a regular basis. When someone they know, trust, and respect is accused of rape, or even when there are suggestions that rape may be occurring in progressive spaces, the first reaction is often a denial, a backlash, and it can become very ugly.

Suddenly, progressives are using the same words they’ve always condemned. ‘Not the man I know.’ ‘That’s totally not like her.’ ‘There must have been extenuating circumstances.’ ‘I don’t think we’re hearing the whole story.’ They are so very eager to deny that rape, this terrible thing, has happened in their own space, that people they know have been involved not as victims, but specifically as perpetrators. They are horrified to think that rape can touch their communities in this way.

And the end result is further isolation for the victim. Reporting rape and talking about it openly is a terrifying thing, even when you are in a community where you know you are likely to be supported and helped through the process, where other victims/survivors may be willing to talk with you and help you through the process. Reporting rape when your rapist is someone in that community is extremely difficult, just as it is in any other intra-community rape. Because there are people who are going to defend your rapist by ejecting you from the community and isolating you from the resources you need, as well as your friends.

Dealing with rape in any community is hard, but progressive spaces attempting to cultivate an environment where victims/survivors are safe have a special responsibility to make sure it is taken seriously and handled appropriately, by whatever means the victim/survivor is comfortable with. That might mean taking a matter to court, and providing support through the trial, which is likely to be emotionally grueling and extremely difficult. It definitely means having a long, hard conversation about whether a rapist should continue to be welcome in the community. The answer to that should be ‘no,’ but it can take a long time to get there, and sometimes people don’t get there at all.

People have a hard time with this because they have a hard time understanding that anyone can be a rapist. All of us human beings have the capacity to commit rape, and have an obligation to make sure we do not. Need to solicit consent before engaging in any sexual activity with anyone, need to play an active role in doing so; this is not about ‘negotiating consent,’ which comes dangerously close to coercion at times, but obtaining consent. Because sexual activity against someone’s will is never okay, no matter what the circumstances and who is doing it.

It is difficult to come to the realisation that someone you know, someone you trust, perhaps someone you admire, someone who shares your politics and is passionate about the same causes, can commit rape. But it happens. Good people can do terrible things. People who fight for social justice and inclusion can do terrible things. People who are very aware of the complex issues surrounding rape and how it is treated in society can still commit rape. Understanding this, recognising it, confronting it, is key for progressive communities that want to combat rape in their ranks and cultivate safer spaces.

They owe it to the victims and survivors among them, including those who are too terrified to speak, and they owe it to each other. Stopping rape within our own communities is just as important as stopping rape everywhere else.

  1. I use scare quotes here because no means no, period, but this term is very commonly used to describe situations where people feel immense pressure that makes it hard to say no. ↩
  2. Please note: This post is not a discussion about specific people or incidents. ↩
24 March, 2012 – 10:32 am | By s.e. smith | Posted in gender, social justice | Tagged , |

We Are More Fascinated By the Stars Than the Oceans

Humans have spent an extremely long time being fascinated by space. It’s a fascinating place, no matter how much you know about astrophysics, whether you just like looking at the stars or trace out the constellations or study supernovae with radio telescopes. Space has a deep, intense allure, which is part of why we are so excited when space probes launch, and when crews soar high above the Earth in rockets and shuttles. They are doing something that many of us deeply want to be able to do, and they are seeing the planet and its surroundings in an entirely unique way that is impossible to truly grasp from the ground. Astronauts are heralded as heroes and figures of mystique because they have taken the first step into the final frontier.

In some ways, we actually know more about space than we do about the world’s oceans, some of which haven’t even been fully mapped. As a species, we are also much more interested in space than in the ocean, despite the fact that the ocean is a deeply fascinating place. Deep in the heart of ocean valleys lie creatures more strange and curious than any dreamed up in science fiction; researchers routinely uncover new species enduring conditions that shouldn’t sustain life.

The rich colonies around hydrothermal vents are one illustration, but not the only one. Some creatures living in the depths of the ocean never see light, ever, and have developed senses to enable them to survive in an environment where predators and prey alike drift through endless cold darkness. Their bodies are specially adapted for tremendous pressure that would destroy a human body, that could take advantage of a tiny crack in the hull of a submarine to crush it in an instant. The ocean floor is covered with a legacy of centuries of living organisms, most of which came and gone without us being aware of them.

Yet, the oceans are more than just fascinating. They are critically important, environmentally. Space is interesting, and learning more about space is undeniably important, but most events in space are distant, objects of curiosity rather than being of pressing importance. When a star explodes or a galaxy forms, it is fascinating to observe, but it has no direct impact on Earth. Learning more about these things helps us understand what will happen to us, eventually, but we are speaking on a time scale of billions of years, rather than one which could unfold over the next decade.

The world’s oceans are a delicate and complex ecosystem. They are a critical part of what makes the Earth unique, and keeps it in balance. Weather is highly dependent on the ocean, as is oxygen production to sustain life on Earth. Setting aside their role as sources of food for many organisms, and as beautiful sights, and as avenues for epic journeys, the oceans are critically environmentally important, and that importance is becoming more evident as researchers probe the world’s oceans and what is happening to them.

Humans are trashing the ocean, literally in the sense of the garbage that makes its way into the ocean each year. And also figuratively, with activities that affect the ocean and in turn create a ripple effect that is extremely difficult to stop. This has very real implications; coral bleaching, for example, isn’t just ugly, but an indicator that an ecosystem is dying, and can no longer sustain life. It is also indicative of changes occurring in the ocean concurrent with warming, and mixing warming trends with the ocean is a very bad idea.

Oceanic circulation plays a huge role in global weather patterns, which is why understanding the ocean is so important. And why acting before circulation is affected is also important. Issues like temperature and salinity are key to how the waters of the world move themselves around, and when they are disrupted, circulation changes. It happens by bits at first, but accelerates over time, and has a very real risk of creating radical changes in the world’s weather. Changes which will not be reversible. Complemented by existing climate change, this is a recipe for disaster, whether you’re living in an area that will be destroyed by rising sea levels, flooded with incessant rain, or parched by endless drought.

People should be fascinated by the oceans because the oceans are fascinating. And because they hold the key to our continued existence and future. Conservation efforts focused on marine habitats aren’t just about saving organisms that are amazing and cool and wonderful, that demonstrate the diversity of life on Earth and the myriad ways in which life adapts itself to its environment. They are also, in a very real way, about conserving humans as a species, and ensuring that we, too, have a habitat we can live in.

While we are looking at the stars and admiring the vastness of space, pondering the mysteries of human existence and wondering when we will travel beyond our own galaxy, parts of the ocean are dying. This is a sad thing in and of itself, to watch something beautiful fade away because it can no longer sustain itself in a hostile world. It is also a bad thing for us, because we rely on an Earth that functions in a very particular way, and that way is enabled by the ocean. If that changes, we may never have an opportunity to travel into the depths of space, because we will all be gone, and the Earth will once again go through a period of adjustment and change that may or may not lead to the emergence of new life.

23 March, 2012 – 10:13 am | By s.e. smith | Posted in environmental issues | Tagged , , , , , |

Some Empathy With Your Food Movement?

One of my most frequent criticisms of the food movement and the way it frames food reform is the lack of empathy for people who are not in a position to implement some of the changes recommended. Perhaps they are parents who are trying to balance work and children with food preparation, and need to consider the needs of members of the household who may have very specific ideas about what is edible and what is not. Maybe they are people with disabilities who have limited financial resources and can’t make a big investment in sustainable food. Or they’re people living in low-income neighbourhoods with limited access to fresh foods, let alone those produced sustainably.

The movement has long had a habit of primarily considering food issues from the point of view of middle class folks with stable living situations and no additional factors that might complicate their ability to do things like buying organic, making meals from scratch, or buying in bulk to save money in the long term on food purchases. This has resulted in fundamental alienation for a lot of people who might have been interested in the movement, because it is so clearly presented as not for them.

Why bother, after all, to join a movement where recipes start with ingredients you can’t obtain, steps you can’t physically complete, time estimates that are laughable, given your schedule? And why participate in a movement that shames you for your inability to follow the teachings of its leaders, that makes you feel bad for not having time, money, or health? Foodies acted surprised about some of the backlash against the movement when they really shouldn’t have been, because so much of the core messaging of the movement was in fact highly elitist.

I’m pleased to see some shift in the way the food movement presents itself and talks about food, because this suggests that real change is definitely possible. In January, Ali Benjamin ran a column at Grist that really cut to the heart of a lot of issues with the food movement from her perspective as a parent—a parent who belongs to the movement, at that, and wants to see people eating more sustainably, considering the sources of their food, and working to achieve a more just world.

I’d like to propose a change to how we think about parents and food: that rather than seeing parents’ constant reaching for convenience food as some sort of moral failing, let’s view it instead as a call for help — a form of crying “uncle” amidst a staggering number of stressors in our not-very-family-friendly society.

Benjamin went on to connect a series of important issues in her post, arguing for more compassion from the food movement to make it possible for parents to participate, for a radical change in the way people approached food politics, and it was exciting to see someone bringing intersectionality into the conversation. Especially since parenting, and the fact that this society is not very supportive of families, are subjects that are often not covered in the food movement; in fact, the movement sometimes reinforces sexist attitudes about who should be responsible for preparing food, which puts more pressure on mothers.

Working mothers have a hard time balancing their work and their home lives unless they have supportive employers who are willing to be flexible, and are willing to value family life as an important part of the lives of their workers. Many of them work long or irregular hours, and when they get home, they have a second shift of housework to do; truly labour-balanced households are hard to find, and the other partner may also be working outside the home, which makes it hard to assign household duties fairly.

When you are concerned with feeding children, thinking about how to provide them with nutrition, you need to think about how to balance time for food preparation, what a child will actually eat. Some people don’t know how to cook, and can’t make the connection between a static recipe and active cooking, Benjamin pointed out; as someone who has been cooking and participating in food preparation my whole life, many things are intuitive to me, but I wouldn’t know how to explain them to someone who hasn’t cooked. I can’t explain when a quiche is done or not done, I just know.

Benjamin’s argument is one integrating compassion into messaging in the food movement, and meeting people where they are instead of standing at a distance and making inflexible demands. She recognises that for some people, what the food movement says is ‘right’ and appropriate is just not doable, not under current conditions, so you have a choice: You can either continue to not include people, or you can make a conscious effort to make them part of your movement. And by doing so, you may win new converts who can add to the movement, reach out to the people they know, and build support for greater integration within the movement.

At the same time, it’s also important to tackle some of the systemic issues behind why working parents, and mothers in particular, are disadvantaged in the food movement. Why is it that many parents have little time to spend on food preparation? Why is it that many parents lack cooking skills? Why is it that many parents lack social support? These are issues that also play a role in whether, and how, parents can participate in the food movement, and they are about larger social problems, not just those specifically related to food. By making these issues their issues, members of the food movement can start to deconstruct some of the larger problems making it hard for people to use, and access, sustainable food.

22 March, 2012 – 10:52 am | By s.e. smith | Posted in Food, social justice | Tagged , , , |