Declining by degrees

We have practically forced more than a generation to go after post-secondary education, only for them to realize later that it might not deliver the pot of gold after all.  Perhaps even makes them worse off than otherwise.

First, remember "Declining by Degrees" from a few years ago?



Over the years, we have pushed college so much that we have diluted the quality of education and, certainly, the economic worth of the college degree itself.

I have been commenting for years now that the problem began with linking higher education to nothing but employment benefits, which then made an undergraduate degree nothing more than a credentialing process.  If we want to return to the grander ideas of higher education, then, we have to re-think how we measure what we value:

Here's a simple exercise that will help us appreciate how much we are missing the target right now. Think about how to answer the following questions. Which is the more important outcome?
1. A.) Acquiring knowledge or
B.) Improving critical thinking

2. A.) Getting a job or
B.) Getting a job you love

3) A) A graduate who gets a job or
B.) A graduate who creates jobs for others

4. A.) A good job or
B.) A good life

5. A.) A good life or
B.) A good society

The vast majority of us would answer B's across the board. ...
Aside from a hint of measurement of critical thinking, we are not currently measuring any of the most valued outcomes of an education. ...
The answer won't be found in running faster and harder toward the targets currently in front of us. And it won't be found in a new government standard or ranking system. We have to aim higher, for a wholly different -- and much more meaningful -- set of outcomes. They may be harder to measure than the ones we have now. But that's no excuse. Colleges and universities everywhere can measure these outcomes now, and if we want to defend the value of higher education, we must measure them.

Cartoon of the day tests whether I have a sense of humor!

First the cartoon:

Hilarious!

But, apparently not everybody loves such humor.  Some find, gasp, offensive, writes the New Yorker's cartoon editor:

But offensiveness, like love, is in the eye of the beholder, and there are enough eyes eying The New Yorker that even cartoons that seem innocuous can trigger outrage.

But, .... how can anybody possibly be offended with this cartoon?  Oh well ...

I have always enjoyed humor and satire.  Even the cliched ones--for instance, if somebody comes up with a new twist to the cliched cops-and-doughnut theme, I will chuckle.  Italians and the mob, I will laugh.  Indians and snakes, I will smile.

But, I have problems when the joke is said with ulterior motives.  Though, this is easier a problem to deal with than when people laugh at them for the wrong reasons--one of the major reasons why Dave Chapelle quit the comedy scene.

So, if I detect such ulterior motives, then the serious side of me comes out and I might then choose to make pointed remarks.  Once when I did, a faculty colleague wrote back to me (while copying a few others):

Some people have no sense of humor.

I am sure students in my classes will find that remark about me to be hysterically funny :)

Seattle, I'm listening :)

Because, it is past midnight and I am Sleepless in Seattle? :)

Exporting coal is stupid and unethical. But, who listens to me!

I cannot believe that we Oregonians are actually considering the idea of partnering with Wyoming and Montana in order to export coal toChina and anybody else who might want it.

Without a doubt, coal was an integral component of the revolution that transformed the world over the last two hundred-plus years.  Coal’s heat melted iron in furnaces, generated the steam for the “iron horse” locomotive engines, and accounts for nearly 45 percent of the electricity generated in the US.

However, the days of coal as a resource that fuels the economic engine are behind us.  To quite a large extent, we need to start thinking about coal the way we think about wood as a source of fuel.  Three centuries ago, wood was by far the dominant source of energy—but, that does not mean that we harvest trees in order to export them as firewood, do we?

Our energy sources are quickly shifting towards better and cheaper alternatives.  Even now, it turns out that joule for joule, natural gas is rapidly becoming a better bargain than coal, similar to how coal itself displaced wood in our economic history.  While natural gas extraction and use is not without controversies, its price has been rapidly falling over the last few years, and is expected to decrease in the immediate future as well.  The price for natural gas, which accounts for about a quarter of the energy consumption in the US, has halved over the past year.  So inexpensive it has become that even coal-fired power generation plants are now being converted to make use of this better source.

I do understand the practical aspects of using coal in the developing countries.  I grew up in an industrial township in Indiawhere low-quality coal was mined, which continues even now, in order to generate electricity.  Every visit to India is a stark reminder of the tremendous energy shortage there.  Countries like China and India, which are experiencing rapid economic growth rates, will need a great deal of energy to sustain this pace and they simply cannot dig enough coal fast enough from under their own soils.  Hence, they import coal, typically from Australia and Indonesia.  One can, therefore, easily see why a Wyoming might want to export coal—domestic demand is dropping fast, and there is an external demand for the same commodity. 

That there is a global market for coal shouldn’t surprise us, when, after all, even now, there is quite an active market for firewood in villages in India or Tanzania. But, that does not automatically mean we should hitch our economic wagons to these coal trains.  This is not expected to generate a great deal of long-term sustained jobs and incomes, nor will the few dollars have significant local economic multiplier effects.  To cap it all, coal is not a growth industry, but one whose obsolescence is underway.

And then there are serious ethical problems.  We regulate coal—right from the mining stage—because we understand its potential to severely affect human and other life forms, and the natural environment itself.  The burning of coal is regulated because of its various byproducts, including carbon dioxide.  When we are so worried about the use of coal, shouldn’t we pause to carefully consider whether we would want to export it to countries where regulatory and oversight structures are considerably below our standards?

Finally, I find it disturbing, to put it mildly, that affluent countries like the US and Canada, to merely name a few, are vociferous about the fragile global environment, and yet are eager to sell to poorer countries the very resources that are confirmed harmful agents.  Whether it is coal or asbestos, which Canada gladly exports while banning domestic consumption, these super-rich countries are only too happy to export to the much poorer cousins materials whose continued use is not in the best interests of anybody on this planet.

I would rather that we developed and exported technical knowledge so that the developing countries can afford to bypass the mistakes the richer countries made in their industrial revolutions.  But, by exporting coal, we do these countries no favor at all. 

The Daily Show
Get More: Daily Show Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,The Daily Show on Facebook

Obama's re-election hinges on unemployment and the Euro crisis?

What is the connection?

for all the attention on Syria, Egypt and other areas of conflict, the most important crisis for Mr. Obama remains the European economy because of its impact at home. “Europe’s weakness is likely to blow back on Obama’s efforts this fall — just at the wrong time,” she said. “He’ll have to run harder because of it.” 

Spending time and energy on the Euro crisis and the rest of the world's problems mean that Obama will have that much lesser to devote to his own re-election campaign. 

Kind of crazy, therefore, that Obama's re-election might heavily depend on the strict European mom, Angela Merkel:

The clouds in Europe are casting a shadow over the American economy, which, in turn, is casting a shadow over the president’s re-election effort. And Obama administration aides admit there is little they can do except cajole European leaders not to let a big Spanish bank go under or to let austerity measures drag the continent’s economy down even. German Chancellor Angela Merkel, who has her hand on the German finance spigot, has more far more control over this piece of the president’s re-election puzzle than does the president himself.

Meanwhile, the tension over the Euro crisis is building up, which then makes the political theatre that much more unscripted;

[European Commission President José Manuel] Barroso, asked by a Canadian reporter why North Americans should help pay for Europe's crisis, broke from his conciliatory tone and effectively blamed U.S. practices for causing the European troubles.
"This crisis was not originated in Europe," Mr. Barroso said. "This crisis was originated in North America. Many in our financial sector were contaminated by unorthodox practices from some sectors of the financial market."

Nice try, Mr. Barroso, to blame the US for the crisis across the Atlantic.  His cause would be better served if he had instead said that we are all in it together.

All these get way too complicated for Obama because not everything is well on the domestic front.  For one, it is only a matter of days before the Supreme Court rules on Obamacare. 

And then there is that huge problem that remains awfully stubborn: unemployment. 

The year-over-year increase in part-timers not working at their capacity is troubling in light of the decline in unemployment. The unemployment decline may paint a rosier jobs picture than is warranted and would mask the persistent fact that 18% of U.S. workers are having difficulty finding the level of employment they would like. Anyone who works at least an hour per week for pay is considered "employed," by both the BLS and Gallup.
For example, if a worker spends two hours a week mowing lawns and gets paid, that person is counted as employed, even if he or she wants to work full time. So while fewer people are unemployed, many are still not working at their desired capacity, as measured by Gallup's underemployment rate.

The following cartoon from the Economist captures well how unemployment influences Obama's re-election:

Drones, Defense, and Deficit. More than alliteration!

Crazy life we lead!

I climbed up tamarind trees, too

In this opinion piece, the writer worries about tamarind trees being chopped down in order to construct buildings and roads:

men come with axes and saws for the slaughter of these trees. They bring heavy bulldozers and earth movers — construction equipment powered for destruction — to gouge the ancient roots out of the earth. Trees that stood for centuries are brusquely despatched in a matter of hours. 

How terrible!

Until I read that essay, I had no idea that the tamarind tree, like us humans, is also from Africa!

Its name, derived from the Arabic ‘tamar-ul-Hind' or the ‘the date of India', finds mention in written historical accounts of India going back centuries. There is irony in this, for the tamarind is native to Africa and not a species that grows naturally in India's forests. Despite being alien to India, the tamarind has not run wild and become an invasive pest, becoming instead what biologists call a naturalised species. Embraced by a deep tolerance and cultural acceptance into Indian cuisine and culture, the tamarind is today a familiar and inseparable part of Indian life and landscape. 

I now imagine that the humans wandering out of Africa brought along the tamarind seeds because they were so much in love with the tree and its fruits, and that love is what I experienced as a child.

All my years till I completed high school and went off to college were in the same house at Neyveli.  One of the many charming aspects to it was the number of trees in the compound.  I forget the precise count, but, as I recall now, there were six tamarind trees, eight mango trees, one cashewnut tree, and a couple of trees that did not yield any edible fruits.  It was a jungle out there, come to think of it.

By the gate was a giant tamarind tree.  It was huge.  As my sister recently recounted, kids were brought up with ghost stories in which tamarind trees were almost always the favorite "hang out" for the spirits.  Even in the best of the lighting, the compound was in semi-darkness at best, and some of the trees were in utter darkness.  Most of this old tamarind tree by the gate was in the dark.  It is, therefore, easy to imagine that some of the school friends coming over wanted to get past the tree as fast as they could.

But, we kids were never afraid of that tamarind tree.  After all, we did not know any better.  The tree was always there from the time we remembered the world.

That particular tamarind tree, more than the other ones in the compound, had blossoms and fruits that were phenomenally tasty.  Yes, the blossoms.  I drool now for that taste.  Oh the money I would pay now to grab a few and eat a mouthful of them!

And then came the fruits.  The tiny green ones were wonderfully tasty.  I would pay even more to climb up a branch right now and taste a few.

The tiny green ones mature and bulk up to become the tamarind fruit that is an important ingredient in every Tamil kitchen.  This tree's fruits were a tad sweet, in addition to the usual sourness that made one shut the eyes in response.  It was sheer ecstasy for the kid that I was to enjoy this naturally sweet and sour taste.

Had I known that I would live this far away from tamarind trees, I would have eaten a lot more blossoms, tiny young ones, and the big brown fruits.

A few years ago, when we visited the old home after more than twenty years, the jungle had become even more dense and green.  It looked fantastic.  The few photos that have survived the ten years since, well, there is nothing of that old friend by the front gate.  I do have one where I can spot the green of the Tamarind tree in the rear of the compound:

The man in the photo was the gardener taking care of the property.  It was a German consultant who lived in the house, and was away when we visited.  There is a good probability that the German had no idea about how to enjoy the tamarind trees.

I suppose this is what life is also about: we have no idea about the wonderful stuff we have.

Sometimes we are aware of them and we enjoy them.

Other times, perhaps all too often, we abuse what we have--like cutting down tamarind trees so that we can build roads :(

After the Rodney King verdict, when I witnessed rioting in Los Angeles

The news reports and commentaries on the death of Rodney King stir a whole lot of memories.

As a starving graduate student at USC, I lived quite close to campus, which is not any hot piece of real estate.  After living in an apartment complex that was only a few blocks of a walk to the campus, I moved to significantly cheaper housing more than a mile away.  I didn't understand, until much later, that it was also a drug-crime infested area; oh well, that is a story for another day!

There were many moments when I used to wonder how the neighborhood I lived in could possibly be there at all in the phenomenally rich country that the US is.  Of course, a trip to New Orleans and walking through some of the neighborhoods there quickly straightened me out: my LA neighborhood was much better than some of the places I saw in LA's New Orleans.

To cut a long story short, the rioting took on crazy dimensions.  People in buildings up and down the street were rushing here and there in their pickups and cars and coming back with shoes, tires, television sets, and anything they could lay their hands on.  One guy told me to go to the Pep Boys store that was round the corner and grab whatever I wanted.

The building manager, who was a Japanese-American (his stories will be for yet another day!) advised me, in his halting English, that I should not even peep out of the window.  I thought it was good advice, and turned the TV on.  Every local channel was covering the riots big time, and then in one I saw my neighborhood.  A view from a helicopter above.  I could see my own building.  That was when the seriousness really hit me. 

Two days or so later, when things had calmed down enough, I biked down the usual path, on Hoover, to the campus.  Odd shoes were scattered all along the road--people were rushing that they couldn't be bothered to stop and gather the spills, I suppose.  I passed the Pep Boys store, which had some awful black coating from the fires. 

I reached the campus, where the perimeter was heavily patrolled by university and city police.  I remember trying to talk to one officer, who simply brushed me off. 

The entire riot was surreal.  But, even more surreal was the original event--the beating of Rodney King, which was captured on camera.  It felt to unreal that real cops would really beat the crap out of a guy like that.

As the riots continued, I do remember watching on TV Rodney King uttering those now famous words: "can we all get along?"

It was so profound.  Such simple words with such heavy weight in those dramatic moments.

A few months after that, I think, when I was an intern at a public agency in downtown LA, I was one of the few people who rode the Long Beach Blue Line in its trial runs, and when they were filming publicity campaigns.  From the train, I could see the Watts Tower and I was reminded of the narratives I had read and heard about the riots in the 1960s.  Another reminder that even as things change, they remain the same?

A few years ago, I drove by those old haunts. Every building, including the apartment complex where I lived, looks so much more spruced up and bright than ever.  Perhaps no more riots?  Wouldn't that be an achievement?