outsidein »

• Di-Aping, climate change and the Holocaust

  December 21, 2009 @ 8:28 am | by Bryan

  

  [The Copenhagen Accord] asks Africa to sign a suicide pact, an incineration pact in order to maintain the economic dominance of a few countries. It is a solution based on values, the very same values in our opinion that funnelled six million people in Europe into furnaces. – Lumumba Stanislaus Di-Aping (Chief negotiator for the G77 at the United Nations Climate Change Conference in Copenhagen).

  You’ve got to hand it to the Sudanese chair of the G77. Europe is still pretty touchy about the holocaust, and the suggestion that the continent is helping to get the gas chambers cranked up was always going to evoke a response. Di-Aping knows how to make headline grabbing statements, but is there any substance to his charge?

  First of all, there’s the suicide pact stuff. On that, I’m with Di-Aping. The smaller countries don’t really get much consideration (and that’s me trying to be as generous as possible to the rich and powerful ones). Barack Obama didn’t take Malawi, Bangladeshi, a couple of Pacific Island nations and Paraguay into a private room to discuss their grievances. Part of that is Malawi et. al. aren’t responsible for much of the greenhouse gases the world produces so they can’t be expected to be at the forefront of a new green revolution. That said, because they aren’t very well off and don’t have much political clout, the views of Malawi et. al. aren’t going to be seriously considered. Let’s face it, Greenpeace have a better chance of getting a hearing from the Obama administration on the effects of climate change than Malawi. I’m not the only one who thinks as much. According to Michael Levi of the Council for Foreign Relations, “The climate treaty process isn’t going to die, but the real work of coordinating international efforts to reduce emissions will primarily occur elsewhere.” “That elsewhere,” speculates the New York Times, “will likely be a much smaller group of nations, roughly 30 countries responsible for 90 percent of global warming emissions,” i.e. the 30 most powerful nations. As for the weak, heard of Darwin?

  Then there’s the values stuff. What values led to the holocaust? I’m no expert in this area. On some level, ‘The Pearl’ must be right – there was money to be made in the exploitation and murder of millions of innocents. More interesting philosophical and sociological explanations have been put forward, but when all is said and done, most come down to the fact that we (people) like situations that work to our favour, especially if the consequences (or victims) are safely out of sight. The structure of the global political economy, for example, is such that I can easily afford to buy a cup of coffee most mornings, while the farmer who grew and harvested that coffee might struggle to feed her family. The distance between us allows me to sleep peacefully at night.

  So maybe Di-Aping is right on both counts. Maybe the small and vulnerable will continue to pay the price for the short-sightedness of the rich and powerful so long as ‘the dollar bill’ lies at the centre of our global value system.

  Comments (15)

• Gordon Brown, the people’s champion?

  December 15, 2009 @ 10:42 pm | by Bryan

  

  This is, without a doubt, one of the best magazine covers that I’ve seen in a good while.

  That said, while I agree with the suggestion that Gordon Brown is doing his best to put on a populist suit that reeks of inauthenticity, The Economist carried the idea of ‘class warrior’ too far. They make a strong case for the idea that we largely see the world from our own vantage and are often blind to the perspectives of others. It’s class politics when politicians pander to poorer voters, but not when wealth is transferred from the working classes to the financial sector?

  Still, it’s a brilliant cover. Reminds me of Ali G. How desperate is Gordon Brown, I wonder? Because if he’s really desperate, I reckon taking on the The Economist on tv could shore up the Prime Minister’s standing among working class voters…

  Especially if he called out the paper by name and said, “Is it coz I’s black?”

  Comments (5)

• Things superfluous and things important

  December 14, 2009 @ 4:22 pm | by Bryan

  I spent the last few days in London visiting an old friend who works in the city’s financial services sector. Most of our time together was spent arguing, and ultimately, those arguments boiled down to the fact that he sees individual freedom as the most important, or foundational value, while I’m not convinced.

  Both of us are Zimbabweans who, as the result of some form of privilege, were able to attend the kind of academic institutions that allowed us to leverage hard work and ability into professional roles for which there is global demand. As a result, we both now live in a part of the world that leverages its economic advantage to ensure that its citizenry enjoys a much more comfortable existence than most. The structure of Zimbabwe’s education system, and society at large, was such that those opportunities weren’t available to everyone. In fact, they were only available to a small minority. Far more Zimbabweans were born into situations that meant an enormous risk of ending up in a virtually inescapable poverty cycle. And poverty in that context meant much more than being dependent on social welfare.

  With that in mind, I just don’t buy the argument that my right to hold onto my wealth, or my freedom to do with my things whatever I see fit, somehow trumps an infant’s right to live. Either society at large, or ‘the state’ has the right to restrict some of my freedoms and take part of my wealth (or restrict my ability to accumulate that wealth) in order to feed that infant, or there is no such thing as a right to life. And if we do hold to the notion of a right to life, what do we make of the fact that the child born in Iceland is more that 20 times more likely to live to their first birthday than the child born in Pakistan? Is it any wonder that so many Pakistanis migrate from their country, legally or otherwise, to places where they feel their children are more likely to thrive?

  According to a Department of Foreign Affairs press release, “Ireland is working with our partner countries to find ways to adapt to climate changes and reduce their vulnerability … Today we committed to strengthening our efforts to reach the Millennium Development Goals, increasing support to adaptation and to focusing on the poorest and most vulnerable. In all our negotiation, we are determined to focus on the human dimension of climate change, including food security, gender equality and women’s empowerment.”

  That’s great news, but is it enough? When it was thought that the world’s financial system might implode, the ‘global leaders’ dropped everything and did what needed doing in order to keep that system going. Poverty doesn’t evoke the same response. But what if Hobbes was right when he wrote, “Seeing every man, not only by Right, but also by necessity of Nature, is supposed to endeavor all he can, to obtain that which is necessary for his conservation; he that shall oppose himself against it, for things superfluous, is guilty of the war that thereupon is to follow?”

  May I suggest that most things, stood beside an infant’s life, are superfluous, regardless of their monetary value?

  Comments (15)

• A pragmatic Ireland?

  December 9, 2009 @ 2:12 pm | by Bryan

  

  Martyn Turner’s Cartoon – 9/12/2009

  One of the things that amazes me about Ireland is people’s incredible tolerance. People will complain, threaten to take to the streets, joke about the situation and then, more often than not, get on with life. Maybe, deep down inside, most people agree with Sarah Carey’s little old lady and believe that, “We were brought into this world for pain and suffering.”

  Alternatively, the Irish could just be incredibly pragmatic people. It’s perfectly acceptable to vent one’s anger when perceived government mismanagement leads to a decline in the standard of living. It’s even better to try to see, and then share, the humor in that situation. But when all is said and done, things are what they are?

  It will be fascinating to see the response to today’s budget – that is, beyond the predictable theatrics that are sure to come in its immediate aftermath.

  Comments (12)

• Copenhagen and Dublin

  December 8, 2009 @ 3:29 pm | by Bryan

  

  Members of an environmentalist group pretend to be dead during a protest demanding a real climate deal on the first day of the UN Climate Change Conference in Copenhagen. Photograph: Miguel Villagran/Getty Images.

  What do Copenhagen and Dublin have in common? Probably quite a few things. At the moment, the biggest might be that they are both sites of struggle over distribution. In Dublin’s case, what is being distributed are the costs of Ireland’s economic recovery. In the case of Copenhagen, it is the distribution of the benefits of industrialisation and the burden of the planet’s upkeep.

  I don’t often agree with The Economist’s take on things, but their analysis of the situation in Copenhagen is, in my opinion, spot on. In an article titled Stopping climate change, the newspaper writes:

  …The problem is not a lack of low-carbon technologies. Electricity can be generated by nuclear fission, hydropower, biomass, wind and solar energy; and cars and lorries can run on electricity or biofuels. Nor is the problem an economic one. A percentage point of global economic output is affordable for a worthwhile project. Saving the banks has cost around 5% of global output.

  So the problem is both simpler and cheaper to fix than most people think. But mankind has to agree on how to share out the costs, both between and within countries…

  It is only fair to point out that the science of climate change – especially the idea that human activity is responsible – is a contested field. Let’s therefore assume that there is only a strong possibility that our industrial activity currently poses a grave challenge to the future of the planet. Let’s also assume that The Economist is wrong and that correcting for climate change will cost something like 20% of global GDP. Doesn’t the same rationale that leads me to buy insurance still force us to take the potential threat of the ecological disaster seriously enough to fork out that 20%?

  If it does, who should pay? What does ‘global justice’ require? If the current consensus is right, if climate change is man made and disproportionately affects the poorest nations, then as things stand, wealth is unjustly being transferred from the poor to the rich. As things stand, the poor are paying for my lattes, high-speed broadband, and for my relatively cheap fuel by way of the destruction of their natural environment and the problems that creates – food insecurity, political instability, and others.

  And supposing the politicians in Denmark come to the same conclusion, what then? Is it the biggest polluters, or the people who consume their products who have a moral responsibility to pay for the damage they’ve done? Is it possible to separate self-interest and greed from such ethical considerations? Do the delegates have a responsibility to anyone other than the citizens they represent? Should this be an opportunity for the transfer of wealth back to the poor nations?

  If what has come out of Dublin thus far is anything to go by, the outcome will lead to a distribution of wealth along the lines of the current distribution of power. In other words, I don’t think Copenhagen will bring about very much substantial change. Poor people don’t tend to have very much power and the environment is easy to ignore – especially when you don’t live in a drought-prone area.

  Comments (9)

• Duty

  December 3, 2009 @ 4:25 pm | by Bryan

  Australian philosopher, Peter Singer, made an interesting argument for global justice as far back as 1972. It revolved around whether people in affluent countries had a duty, a moral obligation, to help people far away. His Famine, Affluence and Morality paper focused on the ‘those dying in East Bengal from lack of food, shelter, and medical care’.

  Singer’s argument is refreshing in its simplicity, even if he imposes a standard that seems almost impossible to attain. His starting point is simple enough. If as I’m walking by a pond I see a drowning child, and if I am able to rescue her, am I morally obliged to do so? What if a crowd quickly gathers around the scene of the drowning; if no-one intervenes and the child dies, as just one of many potential rescuers, am I culpable for the child’s death? In his opinion, ‘if it is in our power to prevent something very bad from happening, without thereby sacrificing anything morally significant, we ought, morally to do it’.

  Does it matter who the child is? Should it matter if it is our neighbour’s daughter, a boy from the community we recognise but don’t really know, or a complete stranger? According to Singer:
  The principle [that you should help when you can]takes, firstly, no account of proximity or distance. It makes no difference whether the person I can help is a neighbor’s child ten yards away or a Bengali whose name I shall never know, ten thousand miles away. Secondly, the principle makes no distinction between cases in which I am the only person who could possibly do something and cases in which I am just one among millions in the same position.

  I’ve had this argument with quite a few development practitioners. There’s plenty of evidence to suggest that people are more likely to give to causes like overseas development if you offer them a warm fuzzy feeling, than if you claim that it is their moral duty to give. That being the case, most ‘charities’ sell those warm fuzzy feelings and use their earnings to help people in need. It’s a win-win situation and everyone is the better for it, right?

  I don’t think so. I want to vomit whenever I see an ad that uses vulnerable people to sell self-actualisation – even if those same vulnerable people derive some benefit from the process. Harm is done to them, despite the material benefit. Like Singer, I think it’s crucial to raise the issue of duty. Do we have a moral duty to fellow citizens? Most people obviously think we do, which is why they give up part of their income (tax) in order to help the destitute (social welfare budget). Do we have a duty towards people who live beyond national borders? If you buy Singer’s argument then we do. If you believe that there are such things as human rights and that they are inalienable, you too are bound to accept that you have a duty even to people far off. If not, you’re off the hook. You can chose to give or withhold as you see fit.

  Singer makes one more crucial point. He questions where we draw the line between duty and charity. He states that ‘the present way of drawing the distinction, which makes it an act of charity for a man living at the level of affluence which most people in the “developed nations” enjoy to give money to save someone else from starvation, cannot be supported’.

  Be it with respect to the local poor, flood victims in the West of Ireland, drought and famine victims in distant lands, or the concept of overseas development assistance, a debate on duty, as opposed to charity, is sorely needed.

  Comments (35)

• Afghanistan

  December 2, 2009 @ 2:04 pm | by Bryan

  

  I can only imagine what George Orwell would make of difference between America’s response to Afghanistan’s elections, and to those in Iran. The thought brings a smile to my face.

  There is another discrepancy which is much more serious. What George Bush termed the ‘war on terror’ was at heart an ideological matter. The groups that engage in activities like flying hijacked planes into buildings claim their legitimacy and material support primarily on the back of US foreign policy. Military action against these groups inevitably spills over, affecting innocent people. This only serves to bolster the arguments of the likes of the Taliban. No speech, no matter how elegant, is going to mask the fact that the US President is sending a little army to Afghanistan in order to support the dodgy dictator his predecessor installed ‘for the good of the people’. Again, I can only imagine what Orwell would make of it all.

  So what should America do? Not only should they ‘turn the other cheek’, but they should also ‘bless (materially) those who curse’ them. The only way the ‘war on terror’ ends is if the accusations made against the US are disproved beyond a shadow of a doubt. The way to do that is not with tanks and armed helicopters, but with tangible, material assistance – food, drugs, infrastructure development.

  But, when you have a whole bunch of tanks, helicopters, remote controlled planes which can drop real bombs, and a pile of guns so big you don’t know what to do with it, the Jesus/Gandhi approach doesn’t look very attractive, does it?

  Comments (23)

• Irritating, repellent, wounding

  December 1, 2009 @ 3:51 pm | by Bryan

  I have recently found myself exploring Africa’s colonial past and how that has influenced the identity of the various peoples and institutions on the continent. Perhaps the most pleasurable aspect of this research so far has been reading Ngugi wa Thiong’s A Grain of Wheat.

  In that radical piece of literature, Ngugi crushes the view that colonialism was a simple system of external oppression. He very powerfully animates an idea that goes back a long way: oppression can only be sustained by the assent of a significant proportion of members of the oppressed group. In Ngugi’s hands, the only real heroes of the colonial era are mythical figures who are so far removed from the here and now that it is impossible to know whether they ever really existed in anything like the way they are remembered. Those present are tainted, to various degrees, by some collusion with agents of the repressive past.

  Though it’s an incredibly sensitive topic, so sensitive that an outsider might be best advised to leave it alone, I can’t help but wonder whether Ngugi’s observations apply to last week’s revelations. And not just Ngugi, I wonder if there is also room here for Milan Kundera, who in The Book of Laughter and Forgetting suggested that we have a tendency towards rewriting the past in order to escape its ‘irritating, repellent, wounding’ nature.

  My country refused to have a completely honest and transparent look at the past, chosing rather to simplistically cast some as villains, others as heros, and the great majority as the backdrop against which history took place. South Africa followed suit, sweeping most things under the carpet of peace, reconciliation and the idea of a ‘rainbow nation’. Don’t get me wrong, South Africa did much better than most – victims publicly shared what had happened to them. Some perpetrators confessed their wrongs. But there wasn’t very much in the way of the vast majority collectively acknowledging and revealing the ways in which they had colluded with apartheid.

  What if Hobbes was right? What if our nature tends towards a state of “war of all against all”? And if he was right in suggesting that in order to escape that nature, people will even submit to “a common power to keep them all in awe,” even if that power is an abusive institution?

  I often get a sense of déjà vu in Ireland, and the scandal that is the abuse of the Catholic Church, with the complicity of the state, is a case in point. The great majority are simply taken as having been a passive backdrop which played a negligible role in the propping up or bringing down of that old order. I’m not so sure anymore. I can see why we all like the simple ‘hero-villain-passive everyone else’ narrative, but Ngugi’s uglier picture seems much more realistic to me. But that means that oppression isn’t something that is done to us, but a process in which, to varying degrees, we participate. If that really is the case, the Kundera was much more right than I gave him credit:
  We want to be masters of the future only for the power to change the past. We fight for access to the labs where we can retouch photos and rewrite biographies and histories.

  Comments (24)