Anna Quindlen, “The Last Word” essayist for Newsweek magazine for the past nine years, is giving up her column to make room for new and young writers. “I believe that many of our old ways of doing things are out of date, including some of our old ways of looking at, and reporting on, the world around us,” she wrote in her final column “Stepping Aside” (May 18, 2009). “Since the day he delivered his Inaugural Address, when I was 8 years old, people have been quoting the youthful John F. Kennedy saying that the torch had been passed to a new generation. But torches don't really get passed very much because people love to hold on to them.”
The moment of truth finally arrived for her when her eldest child, talking about the reluctance of her aging friends to retire, remarked, “You guys just won't go!”
Well, now she will.
I felt sad reading her adieu. She was one of my favorite columnists, not just because of her extraordinary writing but even more, for her taste in topics. They seemed so relevant and organic! Her perspective was unique. She was an activist whose tone was tempered by motherhood and acceptance of human frailties. She was as intolerant of the crimes of the powerful and the privileged as she was of the absurdities of a system that punished the hard-working and the dedicated.
In a column titled “Write and Wrong,” (July 12, 2008), she wrote of a veteran Indiana teacher who was placed on an 18-month suspension without pay by her school board. Her crime? She was trying to engage her struggling students with “Freedom Writers Diary,” a modern-day equivalent of “Huckleberry Finn.” If you are not outraged by her commentary and instructed by it, I say something is seriously wrong with you.
What was also remarkable was Quindlen’s consistency. Every two weeks (she alternated the column with George Will), she would hold forth on a thought and made a compelling story out of it. Each word was the right word, every sentence invested with a purpose. I don’t know if anyone at Newsweek edited her column but I find the idea far-fetched.
Quindlen is right, of course, in making room for the new. How will we discover fresh voices and powerful minds if aging baby boomers hold on to their jobs, however talented they may be?
But it will be difficult to replace Quindlen. Perhaps the best way her colleagues can pay homage to her is to take her cue and make room for the young as well. That includes her "co-host" George Will and many others whose professional longevity seem to be equaled only by Supreme Court justices.
As for the rest of us, thank you, Anna, for the gift of your insight and intelligence, your wisdom and humanity. You will be missed.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Tagore for Tough Times
To curb want and to do without are the lessons of the time. When families are forced to sell heirloom on eBay to put food on the table, we know that 'grim' is an inadequate word to describe their plight. Many Americans clinging onto their homes are wondering not where the next mortgage payment will come from but whether they can pay this month's water bill.
Affluent times, like history, may repeat but clearly a fundamental shift is occurring in our consumer mentality. When materialism takes over, contentment flees and foreclosure looms. To live on borrowed money, as we are discovering, is a lot like living on borrowed time.
As the economy crumbles, some are finding solace in literature. One whose voice speaks across time is that of the Bengali mystic poet Rabindranath Tagore (1841-1961). Tagore won the Nobel Prize in literature in 1913 for his collection of poems called Gitanjali (Song Offerings). In these 157 poems, he created a vision of spirituality and transcendence in which fulfilment is to be found in life’s unadorned pleasures.
As in all great poetry, there is also in them an undercurrent of tension arising out of our endless wants and desires. But in profoundly moving verses Tagore tells us how such tension can be resolved and how we can find the authentic treasures of life buried beneath fame and material well-being.
There is one poem in particular - number 2 in Gitanjali (the poems are without titles) - that resonates for me in these difficult times. Although many authors, including Tagore, translated Gitanjali into English, none come close to capturing the magical, mysterious appeal of the poems in their original Bengali.
Here is my translation of the poem, the emphasis being more on its essence than on the literal. I hope the poem will resonate for you as it does for me everytime I read it.
I want with fierce desires
But you save me by denying me
This tough love lifts my life.
What you give me unasked
This sky, light, mind, body, life
Are plenty
Day after day you test me
To make me worthy of your gifts
Saving me from excessive desires.
Sometimes forgetful, sometimes aimless
I try to follow you
But you are cruel
Hiding the way you do from me.
Yet I know this is your grace
You turn me away only because you wish to accept me
This is how you make me complete
So that I may become worthy of you
Saving me from incomplete longings.
Affluent times, like history, may repeat but clearly a fundamental shift is occurring in our consumer mentality. When materialism takes over, contentment flees and foreclosure looms. To live on borrowed money, as we are discovering, is a lot like living on borrowed time.
As the economy crumbles, some are finding solace in literature. One whose voice speaks across time is that of the Bengali mystic poet Rabindranath Tagore (1841-1961). Tagore won the Nobel Prize in literature in 1913 for his collection of poems called Gitanjali (Song Offerings). In these 157 poems, he created a vision of spirituality and transcendence in which fulfilment is to be found in life’s unadorned pleasures.
As in all great poetry, there is also in them an undercurrent of tension arising out of our endless wants and desires. But in profoundly moving verses Tagore tells us how such tension can be resolved and how we can find the authentic treasures of life buried beneath fame and material well-being.
There is one poem in particular - number 2 in Gitanjali (the poems are without titles) - that resonates for me in these difficult times. Although many authors, including Tagore, translated Gitanjali into English, none come close to capturing the magical, mysterious appeal of the poems in their original Bengali.
Here is my translation of the poem, the emphasis being more on its essence than on the literal. I hope the poem will resonate for you as it does for me everytime I read it.
I want with fierce desires
But you save me by denying me
This tough love lifts my life.
What you give me unasked
This sky, light, mind, body, life
Are plenty
Day after day you test me
To make me worthy of your gifts
Saving me from excessive desires.
Sometimes forgetful, sometimes aimless
I try to follow you
But you are cruel
Hiding the way you do from me.
Yet I know this is your grace
You turn me away only because you wish to accept me
This is how you make me complete
So that I may become worthy of you
Saving me from incomplete longings.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
A Touch of the Wild
There is a section of a scenic highway on my way to work that enlivens my otherwise bland commute. Especially in spring, the sights fill the senses. It rained last night and this morning the sky looks as if it has been scrubbed clean to let its pure blue shine through. Hills and valleys lie in repose and eagles soar above the oaks and the willows. Here and there yellow mustard and orange poppies make the green meadows appear even greener.
Between two roads named Deer Creek and Coyote Hill, I catch a glimpse of white and chestnut horses basking in the fullness of spring sunshine. What compels my attention, though, is a colt that seems to be dancing rather than running, and a woman pursuing it with glee, coaxing it to eat oats out of a bucket she is holding. The two are engaged in a tango, and the sense of playfulness between animal and human is palpable.
A few minutes later I am at my desk, turning on computers and preparing to spend yet one more day of my life working with “productivity tools,” email and the Web. It is when I am about to save my work an hour later, in the service of a Silicon Valley company that pays my bills, that it hits me: what I am doing chained to my desk indoors when life is expressing itself with such force and zest outdoors? I cannot shake off the image of the frisky colt. A sadness slowly seeps into my day.
It is almost impossible now to imagine a day without the Web. That's understandable, given how deeply it has become woven into our lives. But what is tragic is how easily we have learned to pass our days without a single contact with nature. True, these are desperate times. People are losing their livelihood and their homes. Soup kitchens cannot keep up with demand. A cruel recession has already taken on the signs of a depression. Who has time for nature?
But that's precisely what we must make time for as we turn inward for solace and give up things we had no use for in the first place. A less cluttered life looks more and more appealing. Thoreau's call for simplicity resonates. We are rich, to paraphrase the Bard of Walden, in proportion to the number of things we can afford to let alone. To put this into practice, we ought to renew our relationship with nature, to go for a walk in the woods, to take to the trails, to look with fresh eyes at the trees and the birds where we live, to grow something in the backyard or on the window sills. I know I will because I can think of no better way to clear my perspective and cleanse my soul.
Between two roads named Deer Creek and Coyote Hill, I catch a glimpse of white and chestnut horses basking in the fullness of spring sunshine. What compels my attention, though, is a colt that seems to be dancing rather than running, and a woman pursuing it with glee, coaxing it to eat oats out of a bucket she is holding. The two are engaged in a tango, and the sense of playfulness between animal and human is palpable.
A few minutes later I am at my desk, turning on computers and preparing to spend yet one more day of my life working with “productivity tools,” email and the Web. It is when I am about to save my work an hour later, in the service of a Silicon Valley company that pays my bills, that it hits me: what I am doing chained to my desk indoors when life is expressing itself with such force and zest outdoors? I cannot shake off the image of the frisky colt. A sadness slowly seeps into my day.
It is almost impossible now to imagine a day without the Web. That's understandable, given how deeply it has become woven into our lives. But what is tragic is how easily we have learned to pass our days without a single contact with nature. True, these are desperate times. People are losing their livelihood and their homes. Soup kitchens cannot keep up with demand. A cruel recession has already taken on the signs of a depression. Who has time for nature?
But that's precisely what we must make time for as we turn inward for solace and give up things we had no use for in the first place. A less cluttered life looks more and more appealing. Thoreau's call for simplicity resonates. We are rich, to paraphrase the Bard of Walden, in proportion to the number of things we can afford to let alone. To put this into practice, we ought to renew our relationship with nature, to go for a walk in the woods, to take to the trails, to look with fresh eyes at the trees and the birds where we live, to grow something in the backyard or on the window sills. I know I will because I can think of no better way to clear my perspective and cleanse my soul.
Monday, April 06, 2009
Obama Seeks Cooperation with Muslims
Turkey is living proof that Rudyard Kipling’s “Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet” is an anachronism. Both physically and metaphorically, the nation is defined by the confluence of East and West. Turkey has flourished because of this confluence. That it is a Muslim nation makes it that much more important in the post 9-11 world in which the idea of a clash of civilizations unfortunately still resonates with many.
That's why Barack Hussein Obama’s address to the Turkish Parliament on April 6 seemed like the arrival of spring after a bleak winter. “So let me say this as clearly as I can: The United States is not, and will never be, at war with Islam. In fact, our partnership with the Muslim world is critical not just in rolling back the violent ideologies that people of all faiths reject, but also to strengthen opportunity for all its people … I also want to be clear that America's relationship with the Muslim community, the Muslim world, cannot, and will not, just be based upon opposition to terrorism. We seek broader engagement based on mutual interest and mutual respect. We will listen carefully, we will bridge misunderstandings, and we will seek common ground. We will be respectful, even when we do not agree. We will convey our deep appreciation for the Islamic faith, which has done so much over the centuries to shape the world -- including in my own country. The United States has been enriched by Muslim Americans. Many other Americans have Muslims in their families or have lived in a Muslim-majority country -- I know, because I am one of them.”
Of course, Obama had to deal with issues specific to Turkey. He gave his unqualified support for the country’s entry into the European Union. “Turkey is bound to Europe by more than the bridges over the Bosphorous. Centuries of shared history, culture, and commerce bring you together. Europe gains by the diversity of ethnicity, tradition and faith -- it is not diminished by it. And Turkish membership would broaden and strengthen Europe's foundation once more.” (Leaders of France and Germany promptly poured cold water on any such possibility). He commended Turkey’s tentative acknowledgment of its dark past vis-à-vis Armenians but reminded his audience that much still needed to be done. He praised Turkey’s recent overtures to its minorities. “For democracies cannot be static -- they must move forward. Freedom of religion and expression lead to a strong and vibrant civil society that only strengthens the state, which is why steps like reopening Halki Seminary will send such an important signal inside Turkey and beyond. An enduring commitment to the rule of law is the only way to achieve the security that comes from justice for all people. Robust minority rights let societies benefit from the full measure of contributions from all citizens.”
The president also sought Turkey’s help in negotiating with Iran, in the importance of two-state solution for Israel and Palestine, “living side by side in peace and security … That is a goal that I will actively pursue as President of the United States.”
The Ankara speech was suffused with symbolism but I wish Obama had also addressed the ferment transforming Muslim countries currently run by despots and dynasties. The Web has let loose a million Muslim voices. From Cairo to Karachi and Jakarta to Jeddah, through blogs and unconventional forums and festivals, young Muslim activists - women and men - are integrating Islam with modernity, reducing the influence of the traditional, hidebound ulema in their lives and on their societies. It is no longer an either-or proposition for them: devout or liberal, religious or secular, with no middle ground. These activists are discovering values in Islam on their own, without being hectored by Imams who focus only on God’s punishment and rarely on God’s mercy. It has given them the confidence to meet the demands of the 21st century on their own terms, just as a young and brash Muhammad Ali took on the Jim Crow South of the ‘60s in his inimitable way.
Obama could have touched a nerve with these young Muslims, telling them that he too had to forge his path in life when he was their age, and that self-discovery and a sense of purpose can transform people and nations, not inherited privilege and foreign aid.
But all in all, this was an inspiring beginning. Predictably, Obama has come under attack by rabid right-wingers for acknowledging in Strasbourg that America has been arrogant in the past and in Ankara that many Americans have Muslims in their family, or have lived in a Muslim-majority country, which he knows because he is one of them.
“You have belittled America! You have been a closet Muslim all along!” these deeply-disturbed people are braying. Most Americans are impressed with the president’s performance, however, and are relieved that the antagonism and distrust that characterized George Bush’s foreign policy are giving way to friendship and respect with Barack Obama at the helm.
That's why Barack Hussein Obama’s address to the Turkish Parliament on April 6 seemed like the arrival of spring after a bleak winter. “So let me say this as clearly as I can: The United States is not, and will never be, at war with Islam. In fact, our partnership with the Muslim world is critical not just in rolling back the violent ideologies that people of all faiths reject, but also to strengthen opportunity for all its people … I also want to be clear that America's relationship with the Muslim community, the Muslim world, cannot, and will not, just be based upon opposition to terrorism. We seek broader engagement based on mutual interest and mutual respect. We will listen carefully, we will bridge misunderstandings, and we will seek common ground. We will be respectful, even when we do not agree. We will convey our deep appreciation for the Islamic faith, which has done so much over the centuries to shape the world -- including in my own country. The United States has been enriched by Muslim Americans. Many other Americans have Muslims in their families or have lived in a Muslim-majority country -- I know, because I am one of them.”
Of course, Obama had to deal with issues specific to Turkey. He gave his unqualified support for the country’s entry into the European Union. “Turkey is bound to Europe by more than the bridges over the Bosphorous. Centuries of shared history, culture, and commerce bring you together. Europe gains by the diversity of ethnicity, tradition and faith -- it is not diminished by it. And Turkish membership would broaden and strengthen Europe's foundation once more.” (Leaders of France and Germany promptly poured cold water on any such possibility). He commended Turkey’s tentative acknowledgment of its dark past vis-à-vis Armenians but reminded his audience that much still needed to be done. He praised Turkey’s recent overtures to its minorities. “For democracies cannot be static -- they must move forward. Freedom of religion and expression lead to a strong and vibrant civil society that only strengthens the state, which is why steps like reopening Halki Seminary will send such an important signal inside Turkey and beyond. An enduring commitment to the rule of law is the only way to achieve the security that comes from justice for all people. Robust minority rights let societies benefit from the full measure of contributions from all citizens.”
The president also sought Turkey’s help in negotiating with Iran, in the importance of two-state solution for Israel and Palestine, “living side by side in peace and security … That is a goal that I will actively pursue as President of the United States.”
The Ankara speech was suffused with symbolism but I wish Obama had also addressed the ferment transforming Muslim countries currently run by despots and dynasties. The Web has let loose a million Muslim voices. From Cairo to Karachi and Jakarta to Jeddah, through blogs and unconventional forums and festivals, young Muslim activists - women and men - are integrating Islam with modernity, reducing the influence of the traditional, hidebound ulema in their lives and on their societies. It is no longer an either-or proposition for them: devout or liberal, religious or secular, with no middle ground. These activists are discovering values in Islam on their own, without being hectored by Imams who focus only on God’s punishment and rarely on God’s mercy. It has given them the confidence to meet the demands of the 21st century on their own terms, just as a young and brash Muhammad Ali took on the Jim Crow South of the ‘60s in his inimitable way.
Obama could have touched a nerve with these young Muslims, telling them that he too had to forge his path in life when he was their age, and that self-discovery and a sense of purpose can transform people and nations, not inherited privilege and foreign aid.
But all in all, this was an inspiring beginning. Predictably, Obama has come under attack by rabid right-wingers for acknowledging in Strasbourg that America has been arrogant in the past and in Ankara that many Americans have Muslims in their family, or have lived in a Muslim-majority country, which he knows because he is one of them.
“You have belittled America! You have been a closet Muslim all along!” these deeply-disturbed people are braying. Most Americans are impressed with the president’s performance, however, and are relieved that the antagonism and distrust that characterized George Bush’s foreign policy are giving way to friendship and respect with Barack Obama at the helm.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
A Vegetable Garden Swooned Over by Painted Ladies
Spring isn’t spring for me until I have planted my vegetables. As the earth stirs and robins and jays jostle in the backyard and orange and cherry blossoms attract honeybees and hummingbirds, my thoughts turn to my vegetable patch. It is a 20x30 feet of earth along the northern boundary of my home that I try to renew every year with compost and hope and some serious supplications.
My only success after years of trying to raise a variety of vegetables has been with tomatoes. The others – corn, chili, cucumber, corn, eggplant - succumbed either to snails or simply refused to sprout. No one has ever accused me of having a green thumb but I am not daunted. One day I know I will catch a break (isn’t that the promise of spring?) and my patch will become the envy of my neighbors and the living symbol of possibilities.
Rain hasn’t been plentiful this year but I am grateful for what fell at the end of February and the beginning of March. Few days ago I cleared the patch and raked and manured it to prepare for planting.
On a warm Saturday, a week after the calendar announced the first day of spring, the vernal equinox (Friday, May 20, although it was on Monday, March 16, that the sun rose at 7:16 AM and set at 7:16 PM, with exactly twelve hours of daylight), I plant squash, chili, radish, carrot, potato and, of course, the Old Faithful, grape and cherry tomatoes. I use seeds for radish and carrot and bury pieces of red potatoes here and there, hoping that random distribution will somehow increase my harvest in June. That there may no potato at all does not cloud my mind in the least.
Interest in home gardening has increased not only because of the current economic crisis but also because it has dawned on many Americans that growing one’s own organic food is a commitment toward healthy living. What has also sparked enthusiasm is Michelle Obama’s decision to convert a 1,100 square feet patch on the south lawn of the White House into a kitchen garden. The first lady, with help from local fifth-graders and a few sturdier hands, has planted 55 varieties of vegetables, including lettuce, chard, spinach, basil, cilantro, hot peppers, arugula and kale. Way to go, Michelle!
The sprinkling, burying and planting takes about four hours. I could do it in half the time or less but I am spellbound by the orange, painted lady butterflies streaming across the backyard. For the sheer pleasure of it, I count seventy in about ten minutes. They alight on the cherry and orange blossoms and gorge on the nectar.
Hatched from eggs laid in the deserts of southern California and northern Mexico, these small wonders are migrating north toward Oregon and Washington. I am not the only witness to their ancient journey; Sofia, the cat, watches transfixed too. What a marvel and mystery migration is! In August, a new generation of painted ladies, sprung from the ones I am now watching, will retrace the flight south toward their ancestral winter abode in the desert of Southern California. And the cycle will repeat, generation after generation.
I water the seeds and the plants and issue silent, stern warnings to any lurking snail that will dare defile my garden. A breeze begins to blow. The stream of painted ladies has thinned. A profound satisfaction floods my heart: in this backyard, some of the winged ones found food as they traveled across Santa Clara County and, thus fortified, continued their flight along the Pacific coast toward their destiny.
All in all, a sublime day to plant vegetables.
My only success after years of trying to raise a variety of vegetables has been with tomatoes. The others – corn, chili, cucumber, corn, eggplant - succumbed either to snails or simply refused to sprout. No one has ever accused me of having a green thumb but I am not daunted. One day I know I will catch a break (isn’t that the promise of spring?) and my patch will become the envy of my neighbors and the living symbol of possibilities.
Rain hasn’t been plentiful this year but I am grateful for what fell at the end of February and the beginning of March. Few days ago I cleared the patch and raked and manured it to prepare for planting.
On a warm Saturday, a week after the calendar announced the first day of spring, the vernal equinox (Friday, May 20, although it was on Monday, March 16, that the sun rose at 7:16 AM and set at 7:16 PM, with exactly twelve hours of daylight), I plant squash, chili, radish, carrot, potato and, of course, the Old Faithful, grape and cherry tomatoes. I use seeds for radish and carrot and bury pieces of red potatoes here and there, hoping that random distribution will somehow increase my harvest in June. That there may no potato at all does not cloud my mind in the least.
Interest in home gardening has increased not only because of the current economic crisis but also because it has dawned on many Americans that growing one’s own organic food is a commitment toward healthy living. What has also sparked enthusiasm is Michelle Obama’s decision to convert a 1,100 square feet patch on the south lawn of the White House into a kitchen garden. The first lady, with help from local fifth-graders and a few sturdier hands, has planted 55 varieties of vegetables, including lettuce, chard, spinach, basil, cilantro, hot peppers, arugula and kale. Way to go, Michelle!
The sprinkling, burying and planting takes about four hours. I could do it in half the time or less but I am spellbound by the orange, painted lady butterflies streaming across the backyard. For the sheer pleasure of it, I count seventy in about ten minutes. They alight on the cherry and orange blossoms and gorge on the nectar.
Hatched from eggs laid in the deserts of southern California and northern Mexico, these small wonders are migrating north toward Oregon and Washington. I am not the only witness to their ancient journey; Sofia, the cat, watches transfixed too. What a marvel and mystery migration is! In August, a new generation of painted ladies, sprung from the ones I am now watching, will retrace the flight south toward their ancestral winter abode in the desert of Southern California. And the cycle will repeat, generation after generation.
I water the seeds and the plants and issue silent, stern warnings to any lurking snail that will dare defile my garden. A breeze begins to blow. The stream of painted ladies has thinned. A profound satisfaction floods my heart: in this backyard, some of the winged ones found food as they traveled across Santa Clara County and, thus fortified, continued their flight along the Pacific coast toward their destiny.
All in all, a sublime day to plant vegetables.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Glimpses of Hidden Reality
“To honor a living person who has made an exceptional contribution affirming life’s spiritual dimension, whether through insight, discovery, or practical works,” the Templeton foundation awarded its 2009 prize to a French physicist.
Bernard d’Espagnat, 87, is a theoretical physicist and philosopher of science at the University of Paris-Orsay. He was recognized for his pioneering contributions to the nature of physical reality and making the daring suggestion that matter everywhere is caught in a web of “veiled reality” that lies beneath time, space and energy.
What has “veiled reality” got to do with spirituality? In simple terms, it means that there are limits to what science can explain. Once we acknowledge this, it opens the door to the mysterious and the transcendent.
There is an abundance of good writing on spirituality and faith. What sets apart the work of scientists like D’Espagnat is that they use science to show the limits of science, thus allowing for the possibility that there is more to life than the acceptance of only that which can be seen or measured and rejection of that which cannot.
D’Espagnat’s quest was driven by a single, profound question: “What insight does science reveal about the nature of reality?” His research tool consisted of quantum physics, a subject he learned from one of its founders, another Frenchman named Louis de Broglie, winner of the 1929 Nobel Prize in physics. De Broglie showed that matter had wave-like properties and waves had properties that classical physics attributed only to matter. What this meant was that reality was different and more subtle than what it appeared to be. D’Espagnat devoted seven decades of his creative life trying to figure out the deepest aspects of this reality.
His research showed that “veiled reality” could be glimpsed through quantum mechanics. (An analogy from art: Pablo Picasso used cubism to paint his view of reality). In a series of famous experiments performed in 1981-82 on the polarization of photons (a massless particle associated with light waves), it was found that a change in the polarization of a photon (think of it as the direction in which it oscillates) miles removed from another photon could be detected in both. In other words, both photons were connected, or "entangled." What’s more, the change in their states traveled faster than light, a violation of Einstein’s Special Theory of Relativity.
The experiments tested “Bell’s Theorem,” named after the Irish physicist John Bell, which states that nature is composed of objects whose behavior can be understood “locally,” that is, influenced directly only by their immediate surroundings. Quantum mechanics, on the other hand, predicts that nature is non-local, that is, the behavior of an object is influenced by objects far removed from it. D’Espagnat predicted that quantum mechanics was right, and the experiments proved him right. Physical reality turns out to be non-local, leaving open the possibility of invisible realms, the “veiled reality.”
Understanding the implications of these rigorous experiments can be daunting for the non-scientist but as D’Espagnat explained: “It’s not that science will explain the ultimate reality of certain objects or events. Rather, it is that the concepts we use, such as space, time, causality and so on … are not applicable to ultimate reality.” In other words, it is arrogance to suggest that science can have the final word on the true nature of reality. The best that science can do is to describe reality as it appears to us, taking into account limitations of our own mind and our own sensibilities.
This leads to a humbler understanding of our place in the universe. We are not its master, and its “veiled reality” can point to something larger than ourselves. To some, this may come as a disappointment; to scientists like D’Espagnat, it is a source of awe and inspiration. Matter is not the only reality. According to D’Espagnat, “the possibility that the things we observe may be tentatively interpreted as signs providing us with some perhaps not entirely misleading glimpses of a higher reality and, therefore, that higher forms of spirituality are fully compatible with what seems to emerge from contemporary physics … Mystery is not something negative that has to be eliminated. On the contrary, it is one of the constitutive elements of being.”
One scientist influenced by D’Espagnat’s work is Bruno Guiderdoni, a Muslim convert who is the director of research at France’s National Center for Scientific Research and co-founder and director of the Islamic Institute for Advanced Studies in Paris. Attending one of D’Espagnat’s lectures as a graduate student in 1980, he wrote: “I was deeply impressed by the philosophical implications of what he was addressing. One has to understand that these issues were completely absent from the usual courses in quantum physics … he helped me understand that there were actually a very deep question in this issue of the nature of reality.” Guiderdoni is widely recognized as an expert on galaxy formation and evolution as well as a prominent interpreter of Islam. He has written numerous papers on both topics and has emphasized his own work in astrophysics as a fulfillment of God’s command to seek knowledge and understand His creation.
It is a pity that the media always portrays religion and science as a battle between inflexible creationists and atheists. But the vast majority of us occupy the space between these two extremes and find no conflict between faith and reason.
That D’Espagnat's work is valued by today's leading scientists is evident from the homage they have paid him. William D. Phillips, winner of the 1997 Nobel Prize in physics said: “Entanglement is one of the key features of quantum mechanics, one that most sets it apart from classical physics. Bernard was a key figure in providing a mature understanding of both the scientific and philosophical implications of entanglement, a phenomenon so counterintuitive that it continues to intrigue 21st century physicists. D’Espagnat appreciated that entanglement not only changed our view of how physics works, but also our concept of the very nature of reality.”
D’Espagnat’s insight and discovery suggest not just that science cannot fully describe reality but that scientific research can encourage spirituality. Those who believe in the unseen and whose lives are animated by faith are not irrational; they are only acknowledging the presence of the mysterious and the ineffable in their lives. As Charles Townes, winner of the Nobel Prize in physics in 1964 and the Templeton Prize in 2005 said of the convergence of science and religion: “I believe this confluence is inevitable. For they both represent man’s efforts to understand his universe and must ultimately be dealing with the same substance.”
Bernard d’Espagnat, 87, is a theoretical physicist and philosopher of science at the University of Paris-Orsay. He was recognized for his pioneering contributions to the nature of physical reality and making the daring suggestion that matter everywhere is caught in a web of “veiled reality” that lies beneath time, space and energy.
What has “veiled reality” got to do with spirituality? In simple terms, it means that there are limits to what science can explain. Once we acknowledge this, it opens the door to the mysterious and the transcendent.
There is an abundance of good writing on spirituality and faith. What sets apart the work of scientists like D’Espagnat is that they use science to show the limits of science, thus allowing for the possibility that there is more to life than the acceptance of only that which can be seen or measured and rejection of that which cannot.
D’Espagnat’s quest was driven by a single, profound question: “What insight does science reveal about the nature of reality?” His research tool consisted of quantum physics, a subject he learned from one of its founders, another Frenchman named Louis de Broglie, winner of the 1929 Nobel Prize in physics. De Broglie showed that matter had wave-like properties and waves had properties that classical physics attributed only to matter. What this meant was that reality was different and more subtle than what it appeared to be. D’Espagnat devoted seven decades of his creative life trying to figure out the deepest aspects of this reality.
His research showed that “veiled reality” could be glimpsed through quantum mechanics. (An analogy from art: Pablo Picasso used cubism to paint his view of reality). In a series of famous experiments performed in 1981-82 on the polarization of photons (a massless particle associated with light waves), it was found that a change in the polarization of a photon (think of it as the direction in which it oscillates) miles removed from another photon could be detected in both. In other words, both photons were connected, or "entangled." What’s more, the change in their states traveled faster than light, a violation of Einstein’s Special Theory of Relativity.
The experiments tested “Bell’s Theorem,” named after the Irish physicist John Bell, which states that nature is composed of objects whose behavior can be understood “locally,” that is, influenced directly only by their immediate surroundings. Quantum mechanics, on the other hand, predicts that nature is non-local, that is, the behavior of an object is influenced by objects far removed from it. D’Espagnat predicted that quantum mechanics was right, and the experiments proved him right. Physical reality turns out to be non-local, leaving open the possibility of invisible realms, the “veiled reality.”
Understanding the implications of these rigorous experiments can be daunting for the non-scientist but as D’Espagnat explained: “It’s not that science will explain the ultimate reality of certain objects or events. Rather, it is that the concepts we use, such as space, time, causality and so on … are not applicable to ultimate reality.” In other words, it is arrogance to suggest that science can have the final word on the true nature of reality. The best that science can do is to describe reality as it appears to us, taking into account limitations of our own mind and our own sensibilities.
This leads to a humbler understanding of our place in the universe. We are not its master, and its “veiled reality” can point to something larger than ourselves. To some, this may come as a disappointment; to scientists like D’Espagnat, it is a source of awe and inspiration. Matter is not the only reality. According to D’Espagnat, “the possibility that the things we observe may be tentatively interpreted as signs providing us with some perhaps not entirely misleading glimpses of a higher reality and, therefore, that higher forms of spirituality are fully compatible with what seems to emerge from contemporary physics … Mystery is not something negative that has to be eliminated. On the contrary, it is one of the constitutive elements of being.”
One scientist influenced by D’Espagnat’s work is Bruno Guiderdoni, a Muslim convert who is the director of research at France’s National Center for Scientific Research and co-founder and director of the Islamic Institute for Advanced Studies in Paris. Attending one of D’Espagnat’s lectures as a graduate student in 1980, he wrote: “I was deeply impressed by the philosophical implications of what he was addressing. One has to understand that these issues were completely absent from the usual courses in quantum physics … he helped me understand that there were actually a very deep question in this issue of the nature of reality.” Guiderdoni is widely recognized as an expert on galaxy formation and evolution as well as a prominent interpreter of Islam. He has written numerous papers on both topics and has emphasized his own work in astrophysics as a fulfillment of God’s command to seek knowledge and understand His creation.
It is a pity that the media always portrays religion and science as a battle between inflexible creationists and atheists. But the vast majority of us occupy the space between these two extremes and find no conflict between faith and reason.
That D’Espagnat's work is valued by today's leading scientists is evident from the homage they have paid him. William D. Phillips, winner of the 1997 Nobel Prize in physics said: “Entanglement is one of the key features of quantum mechanics, one that most sets it apart from classical physics. Bernard was a key figure in providing a mature understanding of both the scientific and philosophical implications of entanglement, a phenomenon so counterintuitive that it continues to intrigue 21st century physicists. D’Espagnat appreciated that entanglement not only changed our view of how physics works, but also our concept of the very nature of reality.”
D’Espagnat’s insight and discovery suggest not just that science cannot fully describe reality but that scientific research can encourage spirituality. Those who believe in the unseen and whose lives are animated by faith are not irrational; they are only acknowledging the presence of the mysterious and the ineffable in their lives. As Charles Townes, winner of the Nobel Prize in physics in 1964 and the Templeton Prize in 2005 said of the convergence of science and religion: “I believe this confluence is inevitable. For they both represent man’s efforts to understand his universe and must ultimately be dealing with the same substance.”
Friday, March 13, 2009
Bernie Madoff and the Slippery Slope
“When I began the Ponzi scheme I believed it would end shortly and I would be able to extricate myself and my clients from the scheme.”
So declared Bernie Madoff, 70, in a New York court yesterday when the judge ordered him to “tell me what you did.”
But it is not easy to climb back up once you have slid down the slippery slope. After the lies, the deceits and the denials have snared you, you succumb to their seductions and then there is no turning back.
Inmate No. 61727-054 – Madoff’s new identity – swindled investors out of a staggering $65 billion over a period of at least two decades. His victims range from the barely-making-it to the fabulously wealthy. However you may characterize Madoff as - thief, felon, psychopath - you have to concede that he was democratic in his scheming.
There are many lessons in this, of course, and in time they will no doubt become part of business school text books that also attempt to teach ethics and morality. But we must recognize that we are not exempt from the lure of the slippery slope. It may not lead to the kind of widespread damage and heartbreak that Madoff wrought, but giving in to it even in a small way can destroy lives and relationships. That is why, instead of schadenfreude, a more proper reaction for those of us lucky enough to be untouched by Madoff’s tentacles would be look inward and resolve to resist the slippery slope's seductions.
Particularly in tough financial times as we are experiencing now, resorting to an infidelity here and a swindle there may ease hurt and offer a quick solution but there is often a high price to pay. ("Just this one time and then I will make amends and I will never do it again"). It destroys not only the perpetrators but often their families as well.
Truth is stranger than fiction, as the gigantic scale of Madoff’s swindle proves. Still, literature can instruct. As Patricia Cohen pointed out in a New York Times article in December of last year when the story first broke, Madoff has plenty of literary predecessors: Mr. Voysey in Harley Granville-Barker’s 1905 play “The Voysey Inheritance,” Augustus Melmotte in Anthony Trollope’s 1857 novel “The Way We Live Now,” Mr. Merdle in Charles Dickens’s 1873 novel “Little Dorrit” and Joe Keller in Arthur Miller’s 1947 play “All My Sons.”
But ultimately we must look into our own hearts and remind ourselves that nothing beats the dignity of an honest living and of living within our means. Reaching for the mythical “American Dream” can only make sense if we fulfill these twin requirements. If we do, there is the possibility that a better dream will come true and that we will be happy as well.
So declared Bernie Madoff, 70, in a New York court yesterday when the judge ordered him to “tell me what you did.”
But it is not easy to climb back up once you have slid down the slippery slope. After the lies, the deceits and the denials have snared you, you succumb to their seductions and then there is no turning back.
Inmate No. 61727-054 – Madoff’s new identity – swindled investors out of a staggering $65 billion over a period of at least two decades. His victims range from the barely-making-it to the fabulously wealthy. However you may characterize Madoff as - thief, felon, psychopath - you have to concede that he was democratic in his scheming.
There are many lessons in this, of course, and in time they will no doubt become part of business school text books that also attempt to teach ethics and morality. But we must recognize that we are not exempt from the lure of the slippery slope. It may not lead to the kind of widespread damage and heartbreak that Madoff wrought, but giving in to it even in a small way can destroy lives and relationships. That is why, instead of schadenfreude, a more proper reaction for those of us lucky enough to be untouched by Madoff’s tentacles would be look inward and resolve to resist the slippery slope's seductions.
Particularly in tough financial times as we are experiencing now, resorting to an infidelity here and a swindle there may ease hurt and offer a quick solution but there is often a high price to pay. ("Just this one time and then I will make amends and I will never do it again"). It destroys not only the perpetrators but often their families as well.
Truth is stranger than fiction, as the gigantic scale of Madoff’s swindle proves. Still, literature can instruct. As Patricia Cohen pointed out in a New York Times article in December of last year when the story first broke, Madoff has plenty of literary predecessors: Mr. Voysey in Harley Granville-Barker’s 1905 play “The Voysey Inheritance,” Augustus Melmotte in Anthony Trollope’s 1857 novel “The Way We Live Now,” Mr. Merdle in Charles Dickens’s 1873 novel “Little Dorrit” and Joe Keller in Arthur Miller’s 1947 play “All My Sons.”
But ultimately we must look into our own hearts and remind ourselves that nothing beats the dignity of an honest living and of living within our means. Reaching for the mythical “American Dream” can only make sense if we fulfill these twin requirements. If we do, there is the possibility that a better dream will come true and that we will be happy as well.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Students Missing From Education Reform
Education has attained the status of weather: Everyone talks about it but no one does anything about it.
Well, not exactly. President Obama made education a centerpiece of his campaign. He talked about the central role of education in his life to get to where he was. He promised to follow up on his educational vision if he became the president.
In an address to the Hispanic Chamber of Commerce today, the president fleshed out his vision. He called for more charter schools ("laboratories of innovations"), merit-based pay for teachers while holding them more accountable, emphasis on early education, tougher curriculum standards, and renewing commitment to learning from cradle to adulthood. “It is time to give all Americans a complete and competitive education from the cradle up through a career,” said Obama. “We have accepted failure for too long. America’s entire education system must once more be the envy of the world.”
The president had done his homework on teachers. He is determined to push the same methods used in Finland and Singapore, two countries with the finest public education systems in the world today, to treat “teachers like the professionals they are .... New teachers will be mentored by experienced ones. Good teachers will be rewarded with more money for improved student achievement, and asked to accept more responsibilities for lifting up their schools.”
The president made a compelling case for raising the quality of education in America. Where it fell short was in his lack of emphasis on the responsibility of the students themselves. “It is time to expect more from our students,” the president declared. We have known that for years, but how? We talk about teachers, teachers' unions, administrators, parents, communities and school districts but leave out the most important element in the ecology of education: students.
Teachers and schools can never take over the job of educating a child completely. And they are not meant to! It may take a village to raise a child, an awfully nice-sounding idea, but it is a partial remedy at best. The critical question to ask is, why do so many of our kids suffer from lack of motivation? It’s a phenomenon that cuts across race, gender, income and social standings. You can blame lack of parental guidance, high-tech distractions, a noxious culture, whatever, but ultimately the mystery remains. If you are the parent of a school student whose only aim in life seems to be entertainment and hanging out with friends, how do you instill in him or her discipline, motivation, hunger for knowledge?
All across America, parents and teachers who dutifully offer everything asked of them to educate their wards are asking: “What are we doing that’s not right?” Who will tell them that they are doing the best they can, that it is most often the kids who have to shape up, who have to shun the path of ignorance and get on the road to knowledge?
I hope President Obama focuses exclusively on students next time he talks about education. He is an inspiration to kids. His life story evokes wonder. He can be more persuasive on our children than perhaps any parent or teacher at this particular juncture of history. He can use his talent, eloquence and his own story to energize and motivate them to acquire knowledge. If he can pull off this feat, there is a chance that our educational system will once again become the envy of the world.
Well, not exactly. President Obama made education a centerpiece of his campaign. He talked about the central role of education in his life to get to where he was. He promised to follow up on his educational vision if he became the president.
In an address to the Hispanic Chamber of Commerce today, the president fleshed out his vision. He called for more charter schools ("laboratories of innovations"), merit-based pay for teachers while holding them more accountable, emphasis on early education, tougher curriculum standards, and renewing commitment to learning from cradle to adulthood. “It is time to give all Americans a complete and competitive education from the cradle up through a career,” said Obama. “We have accepted failure for too long. America’s entire education system must once more be the envy of the world.”
The president had done his homework on teachers. He is determined to push the same methods used in Finland and Singapore, two countries with the finest public education systems in the world today, to treat “teachers like the professionals they are .... New teachers will be mentored by experienced ones. Good teachers will be rewarded with more money for improved student achievement, and asked to accept more responsibilities for lifting up their schools.”
The president made a compelling case for raising the quality of education in America. Where it fell short was in his lack of emphasis on the responsibility of the students themselves. “It is time to expect more from our students,” the president declared. We have known that for years, but how? We talk about teachers, teachers' unions, administrators, parents, communities and school districts but leave out the most important element in the ecology of education: students.
Teachers and schools can never take over the job of educating a child completely. And they are not meant to! It may take a village to raise a child, an awfully nice-sounding idea, but it is a partial remedy at best. The critical question to ask is, why do so many of our kids suffer from lack of motivation? It’s a phenomenon that cuts across race, gender, income and social standings. You can blame lack of parental guidance, high-tech distractions, a noxious culture, whatever, but ultimately the mystery remains. If you are the parent of a school student whose only aim in life seems to be entertainment and hanging out with friends, how do you instill in him or her discipline, motivation, hunger for knowledge?
All across America, parents and teachers who dutifully offer everything asked of them to educate their wards are asking: “What are we doing that’s not right?” Who will tell them that they are doing the best they can, that it is most often the kids who have to shape up, who have to shun the path of ignorance and get on the road to knowledge?
I hope President Obama focuses exclusively on students next time he talks about education. He is an inspiration to kids. His life story evokes wonder. He can be more persuasive on our children than perhaps any parent or teacher at this particular juncture of history. He can use his talent, eloquence and his own story to energize and motivate them to acquire knowledge. If he can pull off this feat, there is a chance that our educational system will once again become the envy of the world.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Bollywood Conquers Hollywood, and More
Watching the 81st Annual Academy Awards, I had the surreal feeling that I was actually watching a Bollywood production. Forty-three-year old Musical prodigy and composer Alla Rakha (A. R.) Rahman took two Oscars for best original score and best original song - Jai Ho - in Slumdog Millionaire. When the Kodak Theater resonated to Rahman’s song and the fluid movement of Indian dancers, you knew that Bollywood had taken Hollywood by storm. Yes, yes, I know that the director and producer of Slumdog are Englishmen, but it’s a quintessential Indian tale of hope and love and redemption, and it is Rahman’s score and song that propels the story.
This modest man of enormous talent also stole the show when he said in his acceptance speech: "All my life I've had a choice of hate and love. I chose love and I'm here. God bless." What a stirring message to a troubled world!
Rahman was born in 1966 to a Hindu family but at the age of 21 converted to Sufism, a mystical form of Islam. He described his conversion as "a long process. I was really intrigued by the Sufi thing and had gone very deeply into it, putting aside three hours every day to learn Arabic. I was drawn to Sufism because they have no regulation, no rules, no distinction between Hindu and Muslim."
Before Rahman, only two other Indians had won Oscars: costume designer Bhanu Athaiya for Gandhi in 1982 and master filmmaker Satyajit Ray for lifetime achievement in 1992.
I saw Slumdog when it opened in theatres in San Jose, California, on November 26 last year. On that very day, Mumbai was attacked by Muslim terrorists and the bustling metropolis was gripped by fear and despair. But as the dust settled, the city reasserted itself with quiet resolve and dignity. Most heart-warming was the response by the Muslims of Mumbai. Thousands of them - men, women and children – took to the streets to denounce the terrorists. "We disown and denounce all those who kill in the name of jihad. Terrorists are fascists and enemies of Muslims as Islam doesn't preach killing of innocents," said poet-lyricist Javed Akhtar.
As of today, bodies of nine Pakistani Muslim terrorists lie in a Mumbai hospital morgue because the Indian Muslim community has refused to bury them in its cemetery.
I welcomed Slumdog’s eight Oscars with gratitude to its creators. That its Muslim music director won two Oscars signified for me, in some undefinable way, the victory of moderates over extremists, of sanity over insanity.
Tonight, when parties are being held all over Oscar’s host city, the city being toasted around the world for its moxie is not Los Angeles but Mumbai.
P.S. A day after A.R. Rahman won Oscars for his song and score, Interscope's A&M Records released a pop version of his winning song "Jai Ho (You Are My Destiny)" in English, sung by Nicole Scherzinger of the Pussycat Dolls. It was produced by Ron Fair, chairman of Interscope's Records division. Fair will fly to Chennai (Rahman's hometown) this summer to collaborate with the composer. "He is one of the world's great living composers in any medium," said Fair. "If I could have a little bit of time with A.R. Rahman, it would be like a master class."
This modest man of enormous talent also stole the show when he said in his acceptance speech: "All my life I've had a choice of hate and love. I chose love and I'm here. God bless." What a stirring message to a troubled world!
Rahman was born in 1966 to a Hindu family but at the age of 21 converted to Sufism, a mystical form of Islam. He described his conversion as "a long process. I was really intrigued by the Sufi thing and had gone very deeply into it, putting aside three hours every day to learn Arabic. I was drawn to Sufism because they have no regulation, no rules, no distinction between Hindu and Muslim."
Before Rahman, only two other Indians had won Oscars: costume designer Bhanu Athaiya for Gandhi in 1982 and master filmmaker Satyajit Ray for lifetime achievement in 1992.
I saw Slumdog when it opened in theatres in San Jose, California, on November 26 last year. On that very day, Mumbai was attacked by Muslim terrorists and the bustling metropolis was gripped by fear and despair. But as the dust settled, the city reasserted itself with quiet resolve and dignity. Most heart-warming was the response by the Muslims of Mumbai. Thousands of them - men, women and children – took to the streets to denounce the terrorists. "We disown and denounce all those who kill in the name of jihad. Terrorists are fascists and enemies of Muslims as Islam doesn't preach killing of innocents," said poet-lyricist Javed Akhtar.
As of today, bodies of nine Pakistani Muslim terrorists lie in a Mumbai hospital morgue because the Indian Muslim community has refused to bury them in its cemetery.
I welcomed Slumdog’s eight Oscars with gratitude to its creators. That its Muslim music director won two Oscars signified for me, in some undefinable way, the victory of moderates over extremists, of sanity over insanity.
Tonight, when parties are being held all over Oscar’s host city, the city being toasted around the world for its moxie is not Los Angeles but Mumbai.
P.S. A day after A.R. Rahman won Oscars for his song and score, Interscope's A&M Records released a pop version of his winning song "Jai Ho (You Are My Destiny)" in English, sung by Nicole Scherzinger of the Pussycat Dolls. It was produced by Ron Fair, chairman of Interscope's Records division. Fair will fly to Chennai (Rahman's hometown) this summer to collaborate with the composer. "He is one of the world's great living composers in any medium," said Fair. "If I could have a little bit of time with A.R. Rahman, it would be like a master class."
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Brad Pitt Deserves the Best Actor Oscar
Brad Pitt is the most underrated actor in the world, and he has only his looks to blame. After all, how can someone known to millions of movie fans for his, well, face, excel in acting? But that’s what he does, in movies after movies (Babel, to name just one), and yet the Academy of Motion Pictures looks the other way when Pitt delivers. It’s the same reason why Tom Cruise was denied the “Best Actor in a Supporting Role” Oscar in 2000 for for his performance in Magnolia. Cruise displayed skills far more subtle and poignant than Michael Caine in The Cider House Rules, yet it was the veteran actor who won. Caine was honest about his award: "I'm a survivor, that's what they gave it to me for."
But this year, Pitt has been nominated for the Best Actor award for his role in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. (In 1995, he was nominated for Best Supporting Actor for Twelve Monkeys but the Oscar went rightly to Kevin Spacey for his performance in The Usual Suspects). And the odds are against him this year too for getting the nod from the high priests of the Academy. The favorite to win is Mickey Rourke for his gritty performance in The Wrestler.
The case for Rourke is compelling. First, his acting in Wrestler was brilliant, no question about it. Second, the story also reflects Rourke’s personal odyssey, a gifted actor with self-destructive tendencies who almost lost it but managed to stage a stirring comeback. Who cannot identify with that? Who can resist such redemption?
Yet, if we separate the personal from the public, we have to conclude that Pitt’s performance in Button is superior to Rourke’s in Wrestler. Pitt’s material, based on the short story by Scott Fitzgerald about a man who ages backwards, is more difficult. Very few actors could have pulled it off without reducing the role to a caricature. Whether it is feeling the first pangs of love, fidelity or loss, or roaming Siddharta-like in India to find himself, or staring kismet in the face, or coming to terms with life's cruelty and grace, Pitt transcends acting and transports us to a wondrous realm. For the first time, I realized in my guts what “willing suspension of disbelief” meant watching Pitt portray his magic on the screen.
I hope Brad Pitt wins the Best Actor Oscar this year. If that happens, years from now, we will fondly remember the 81st Annual Academy Awards for its own rare performance of justice.
But this year, Pitt has been nominated for the Best Actor award for his role in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. (In 1995, he was nominated for Best Supporting Actor for Twelve Monkeys but the Oscar went rightly to Kevin Spacey for his performance in The Usual Suspects). And the odds are against him this year too for getting the nod from the high priests of the Academy. The favorite to win is Mickey Rourke for his gritty performance in The Wrestler.
The case for Rourke is compelling. First, his acting in Wrestler was brilliant, no question about it. Second, the story also reflects Rourke’s personal odyssey, a gifted actor with self-destructive tendencies who almost lost it but managed to stage a stirring comeback. Who cannot identify with that? Who can resist such redemption?
Yet, if we separate the personal from the public, we have to conclude that Pitt’s performance in Button is superior to Rourke’s in Wrestler. Pitt’s material, based on the short story by Scott Fitzgerald about a man who ages backwards, is more difficult. Very few actors could have pulled it off without reducing the role to a caricature. Whether it is feeling the first pangs of love, fidelity or loss, or roaming Siddharta-like in India to find himself, or staring kismet in the face, or coming to terms with life's cruelty and grace, Pitt transcends acting and transports us to a wondrous realm. For the first time, I realized in my guts what “willing suspension of disbelief” meant watching Pitt portray his magic on the screen.
I hope Brad Pitt wins the Best Actor Oscar this year. If that happens, years from now, we will fondly remember the 81st Annual Academy Awards for its own rare performance of justice.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Good Food
Food has become the ultimate fashion statement. We are now more concerned about what we eat than what we wear.
One of the sanest voices in food matters belongs to Michael Pollan, author of The Omnivore’s Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals. "Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants." That’s his succinct advice to those who want to enjoy their food and be healthy as well.
Pollan distinguishes between food and food products. Food represents health and wholesomeness, food products don't. How to tell one from the other, given that 17,000 new food products are introduced in the West every year, gets more difficult every day. "Don't eat anything your great-great-grandmother wouldn't recognize as food," advises Pollan. "Mom knows best" will not work because moms are as confused as the rest of us. That's why "we have to go back a couple of generations, to a time before the advent of the modern food products." Carrots and spinach and apples and bread and cucumber are food but Breakfast-Cereal Bars and Go-Gurt are not. Pollan alerts us to the insidious power of the modern food industry. Walking down supermarket aisles, the average shopper is tempted by food products with fancy names, shiny wrappings and outrageous health claims. If health is the goal, we have to resist those temptations.
The goal of the American food industry for a century has been to increase quantity and reduce prices, not to improve quality, observes Pollan. Better food costs more, so the wise alternative is to pay more and eat less. "Not everyone can afford to eat well in America, which is shameful," acknowledges Pollan, "but most of us can." At less than 10 percent of their income (the current economic meltdown has increased this percentage for families throughout America), Americans spend less on food than citizens of any other nation. Paying more for food grown in good soils will not only contribute to the health of the eater by reducing exposure to pesticides but also to the health of those growing the food and those "who live downstream, and downwind, of the farms where it is grown." There is also strong evidence that "Calorie restriction" improves health and prevents a host of diseases.
A plant-based diet is rich in antioxidants, fiber and Omega-3s and contains fewer Calories than a meat-based diet. A plant-based diet is clearly a healthier choice. "Thomas Jefferson was on to something when he advised treating meat more as a flavoring than a food."
The larger point Pollan makes is that we have taken the joy out of eating. Reductionist science, the rise of "nutritionism" and the culture of fast food have made us forget that food is not only fuel but also communion. Food is pleasure and family and friends. It is memory and hope and continuity of traditions. Food is our connection to the web of life around us. Is there a way to bring back these sensibilities into our frenzied lives? "Cook," recommends Pollan. "And if you can, plant a garden."
I try to follow the advice of people like Pollan and, to some extent, succeed. My problem occurs during the weekends, particularly on Saturdays. That’s when my weekday regimen falls apart as I indulge in korma, biryani, kabab, tandoori and assorted sweet dishes in the endless cycle of invitations among the Bangladeshi Diaspora in California’s Silicon Valley. I feel guilty and vow never to repeat until, of course, the following weekend. Making up for dietary lapses with vigorous exercise five days a week does little to remove the pangs of my conscience. One of these days, though, I intend to come clean and it will only be good, tasty, wholesome food all week long, week after week.
One of the sanest voices in food matters belongs to Michael Pollan, author of The Omnivore’s Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals. "Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants." That’s his succinct advice to those who want to enjoy their food and be healthy as well.
Pollan distinguishes between food and food products. Food represents health and wholesomeness, food products don't. How to tell one from the other, given that 17,000 new food products are introduced in the West every year, gets more difficult every day. "Don't eat anything your great-great-grandmother wouldn't recognize as food," advises Pollan. "Mom knows best" will not work because moms are as confused as the rest of us. That's why "we have to go back a couple of generations, to a time before the advent of the modern food products." Carrots and spinach and apples and bread and cucumber are food but Breakfast-Cereal Bars and Go-Gurt are not. Pollan alerts us to the insidious power of the modern food industry. Walking down supermarket aisles, the average shopper is tempted by food products with fancy names, shiny wrappings and outrageous health claims. If health is the goal, we have to resist those temptations.
The goal of the American food industry for a century has been to increase quantity and reduce prices, not to improve quality, observes Pollan. Better food costs more, so the wise alternative is to pay more and eat less. "Not everyone can afford to eat well in America, which is shameful," acknowledges Pollan, "but most of us can." At less than 10 percent of their income (the current economic meltdown has increased this percentage for families throughout America), Americans spend less on food than citizens of any other nation. Paying more for food grown in good soils will not only contribute to the health of the eater by reducing exposure to pesticides but also to the health of those growing the food and those "who live downstream, and downwind, of the farms where it is grown." There is also strong evidence that "Calorie restriction" improves health and prevents a host of diseases.
A plant-based diet is rich in antioxidants, fiber and Omega-3s and contains fewer Calories than a meat-based diet. A plant-based diet is clearly a healthier choice. "Thomas Jefferson was on to something when he advised treating meat more as a flavoring than a food."
The larger point Pollan makes is that we have taken the joy out of eating. Reductionist science, the rise of "nutritionism" and the culture of fast food have made us forget that food is not only fuel but also communion. Food is pleasure and family and friends. It is memory and hope and continuity of traditions. Food is our connection to the web of life around us. Is there a way to bring back these sensibilities into our frenzied lives? "Cook," recommends Pollan. "And if you can, plant a garden."
I try to follow the advice of people like Pollan and, to some extent, succeed. My problem occurs during the weekends, particularly on Saturdays. That’s when my weekday regimen falls apart as I indulge in korma, biryani, kabab, tandoori and assorted sweet dishes in the endless cycle of invitations among the Bangladeshi Diaspora in California’s Silicon Valley. I feel guilty and vow never to repeat until, of course, the following weekend. Making up for dietary lapses with vigorous exercise five days a week does little to remove the pangs of my conscience. One of these days, though, I intend to come clean and it will only be good, tasty, wholesome food all week long, week after week.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Respecting Darwin
Charles Darwin was born 200 years ago today in Shrewsbury, England. At the age of 22, the budding naturalist sailed on the HMS Beagle to collect, observe and study the flora and the fauna of South America and the Galapagos Islands of Ecuador. (The home page of Google today shows an artist's rendition of the Islands). Returning home after 5 years, he pored over his notes and specimens with a scientist’s obsession. Twenty years of research, experiment and synthesis later, accompanied by prolonged periods of doubt and moral dilemma, Darwin published “On the Origin of Species by means of Natural Selection, or the Preservation for Favoured Races in the struggle for Life” in 1859. (Consider this curious coincidence: Newton, the preeminent scientist of the eighteenth century, waited for twenty years before publishing Principia. Darwin, the preeminent scientist of the nineteenth century, waited for twenty years before publishing his seminal findings. Another coincidence: Abraham Lincoln and Charles Darwin were both born on 12 February, 1809).
"Origin of Species" revolutionized our understanding of life on earth, its astonishing diversity and our place in it. Evolution by natural selection is the unifying theory of the life sciences. Advances in genetics and DNA, of which Darwin had no knowledge, continues to confirm his theory by revealing the physical basis of evolution. That all living beings, including humans, have evolved from a common ancestor, with natural selection as the driving force, is an idea whose scientific truth becomes more evident with each new discovery in the field.
But an artificial war has raged since Darwin proposed his theory 150 years ago. It’s the war between science and religion, reason and faith. Many scientists and secularists use Darwin’s theory to assert that there is no God since, as they see it, “everything” is a product of chance. Many people of faith reject Darwin because his theory runs counter to a literal reading of sacred texts and because, as they see it, it deprives life of meaning and purpose. Reductionists insist that life and its mysteries can be explained by the laws of physics, while literalists insist that the earth is a few thousand years old and everything was created as is.
Both sides are wrong, of course. On the question of heaven and hell and eternal life after death, Darwin had this to say: "The safest conclusion seems to be that the whole subject is beyond the scope of man's intellect … Every man must judge for himself, between conflicting vague probabilities." Darwin was humble enough to recognize that his theory of evolution was silent on the question of meaning and purpose and the existence of a Divine Being. He did not reach this conclusion to pacify his devout wife Emma, the clergy or his religious-minded friends. He reached his conclusion as a scientist would, that those questions were simply beyond the scope of his theory.
There are renowned scientists (Nobel Laureate Charles Townes, to name one) who are ardent believers. They regard the confluence of science and religion as being inevitable. Likewise, there are many theologians who find undeniable truth in the theory of evolution. They agree with Galileo who said: “I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason and intellect, has intended us to forgo their use.”
Most of us are neither scientists nor theologians. Those who believe that the theory of evolution is proof that the universe is devoid of divine content, well, that’s their belief, their "leap of unfaith." For those (I think a majority) who believe, on the other hand, that the theory of evolution is not the whole story, that there is a transcendent power that guides our destiny, they should be perfectly comfortable in saying so. We owe at least that much to Darwin.
"Origin of Species" revolutionized our understanding of life on earth, its astonishing diversity and our place in it. Evolution by natural selection is the unifying theory of the life sciences. Advances in genetics and DNA, of which Darwin had no knowledge, continues to confirm his theory by revealing the physical basis of evolution. That all living beings, including humans, have evolved from a common ancestor, with natural selection as the driving force, is an idea whose scientific truth becomes more evident with each new discovery in the field.
But an artificial war has raged since Darwin proposed his theory 150 years ago. It’s the war between science and religion, reason and faith. Many scientists and secularists use Darwin’s theory to assert that there is no God since, as they see it, “everything” is a product of chance. Many people of faith reject Darwin because his theory runs counter to a literal reading of sacred texts and because, as they see it, it deprives life of meaning and purpose. Reductionists insist that life and its mysteries can be explained by the laws of physics, while literalists insist that the earth is a few thousand years old and everything was created as is.
Both sides are wrong, of course. On the question of heaven and hell and eternal life after death, Darwin had this to say: "The safest conclusion seems to be that the whole subject is beyond the scope of man's intellect … Every man must judge for himself, between conflicting vague probabilities." Darwin was humble enough to recognize that his theory of evolution was silent on the question of meaning and purpose and the existence of a Divine Being. He did not reach this conclusion to pacify his devout wife Emma, the clergy or his religious-minded friends. He reached his conclusion as a scientist would, that those questions were simply beyond the scope of his theory.
There are renowned scientists (Nobel Laureate Charles Townes, to name one) who are ardent believers. They regard the confluence of science and religion as being inevitable. Likewise, there are many theologians who find undeniable truth in the theory of evolution. They agree with Galileo who said: “I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason and intellect, has intended us to forgo their use.”
Most of us are neither scientists nor theologians. Those who believe that the theory of evolution is proof that the universe is devoid of divine content, well, that’s their belief, their "leap of unfaith." For those (I think a majority) who believe, on the other hand, that the theory of evolution is not the whole story, that there is a transcendent power that guides our destiny, they should be perfectly comfortable in saying so. We owe at least that much to Darwin.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Stretching the Earth's Resilience
Day temperatures reached the 70s in San Jose, California, in mid-January. This is supposed to be winter, with the parched land needing copious amount of rain, and although the balmy weather feels wonderful, the third consecutive drought looms for the state. We have had about 50% of the rain normal for this time of the year. (4.06 inches so far; normal is 7.89 inches). Sierra Nevada, the 400-mile-long mountain range made famous by John Muir’s “Range of Light” reverential musings, has a snowpack only 60% deep compared to what it should be. California’s January sunshine may be redolent of paradise but I cannot shake off thoughts of snakes lurking in the garden.
Today it is in the high 60s as I write. City officials are warning of water rationing. The hills and valleys of the San Francisco Bay Area are green but already brown patches are showing. They suggest the sorrow of teenage brides withering under harsh reality without ever blooming. Patches of yellow mustard show up here and there but where have the orange poppies gone?
Is the unusually high January temperatures a sign of global warming? The Midwest is reeling under record snowfall. It’s bitterly cold in the east coast. Rain is incessant in the Pacific Northwest. What can explain this anomaly, this wild fluctuations in weather conditions that get more pronounced every year? Something is happening to our planet. We are probably stretching its resilience to the breaking point.
I wake up about an hour before dawn. Until last year, I used to hear the cooing of a dove in the ash tree in my front yard toward the end of February. That was my sweetest reminder that spring had arrived before vernal equinox in March. But this year I heard the dove on January 29. I began hearing its mournful music regularly every morning thereafter. Spring isn’t silent as Rachel Carson feared it would be, but certainly it arrives early, early, early!
The night sky removes the sadness I feel at the increasingly ephemeral nature of winter and spring. On the same day that the dove began to coo for the first time this season, I saw in the evening a most stirring sight: Venus shining gloriously above a three-day old moon. The following night the two celestial bodies traded their positions. The night after, the moon separated even further from the evening star as it gained weight and steadily climbed the sky. The sight of stars blooming in the garden of the sky all night long is profoundly moving. The anxiety of mortgage payments, unfulfilled dreams, even intimations of a fragile earth, fade away, replaced by a joy that comes from knowing that I am not alone but is woven into the fabric of this vast, mysterious universe.
Today it is in the high 60s as I write. City officials are warning of water rationing. The hills and valleys of the San Francisco Bay Area are green but already brown patches are showing. They suggest the sorrow of teenage brides withering under harsh reality without ever blooming. Patches of yellow mustard show up here and there but where have the orange poppies gone?
Is the unusually high January temperatures a sign of global warming? The Midwest is reeling under record snowfall. It’s bitterly cold in the east coast. Rain is incessant in the Pacific Northwest. What can explain this anomaly, this wild fluctuations in weather conditions that get more pronounced every year? Something is happening to our planet. We are probably stretching its resilience to the breaking point.
I wake up about an hour before dawn. Until last year, I used to hear the cooing of a dove in the ash tree in my front yard toward the end of February. That was my sweetest reminder that spring had arrived before vernal equinox in March. But this year I heard the dove on January 29. I began hearing its mournful music regularly every morning thereafter. Spring isn’t silent as Rachel Carson feared it would be, but certainly it arrives early, early, early!
The night sky removes the sadness I feel at the increasingly ephemeral nature of winter and spring. On the same day that the dove began to coo for the first time this season, I saw in the evening a most stirring sight: Venus shining gloriously above a three-day old moon. The following night the two celestial bodies traded their positions. The night after, the moon separated even further from the evening star as it gained weight and steadily climbed the sky. The sight of stars blooming in the garden of the sky all night long is profoundly moving. The anxiety of mortgage payments, unfulfilled dreams, even intimations of a fragile earth, fade away, replaced by a joy that comes from knowing that I am not alone but is woven into the fabric of this vast, mysterious universe.
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