I just finished reading How the World Made the West by Josephine Quinn. I don’t tend to read many history books. My last was probably David Graeber’s The Dawn of Everything a few years ago. I appreciate that these books reject the prevailing grand narratives, which is refreshing. My first exposure to this type of historical reporting was likely Howard Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States.
I’ve just ordered an updated translation of The Odyssey by Emily Wilson. I’ve had this on my reading list since before it was published in 2017. I’ve read versions by Robert Fagles and another in high school. I didn’t like the version I read in high school, but high school reading assignments always seemed to suck the life out of everything. The Wilson version updates the language and is presented in Iambic pentametre, which I look forward to reading. I considered reading Fagle’s The Aeneid (Vergil), as I haven’t read that yet, but not today.
I am not going to review Quinn’s book here, but I may do so in the future. I found the book enjoyable and educational. There’s actually some content that I will be adding to my book on Democracy whenever I release it. She employs a first-person plural perspective, which is a nice twist and not o POV I’ve encountered much.
If you appreciate a different view on history from a noted expert, snatch this up. Meantime, I’ll be back to post more presently.
Welcome to Part 4 of a Week-Long Series on the Evolution and Limits of Language! This article is part of a seven-day exploration into the fascinating and often flawed history of language—from its primitive roots to its tangled web of abstraction, miscommunication, and modern chaos. Each day, we uncover new layers of how language shapes (and fails to shape) our understanding of the world.
If you haven’t yet, be sure to check out the other posts in this series for a full deep dive into why words are both our greatest tool and our biggest obstacle. Follow the journey from “flamey thing hot” to the whirlwind of social media and beyond!
The Written Word: Making Things Permanent (and Permanently Confusing)
So far, we’ve been dealing with spoken language—the slippery, ever-changing, context-dependent jumble of sounds we toss around in hopes that someone, somewhere, might understand what we’re trying to say. But what happens when we decide to make those words permanent? Welcome to the era of the written word, where all our linguistic problems got carved into stone—literally.
Let’s rewind a bit. Long before we had books or Twitter threads, ancient humans figured out that spoken words disappear into the air. They needed a way to preserve information, and voilà—writing was born. First came simple marks on clay tablets, because nothing says “let’s communicate important ideas” like scratching symbols into mud. But hey, at least it was a start.
The beauty of writing was that it gave us a way to record language—no more relying on memory to remember which berries were bad or who owed you a goat. But there was a downside too: once those words were written down, they became permanent. If you thought miscommunication was bad when words were floating in the air, just wait until you try to interpret a clay tablet left behind by someone who died 500 years ago. Good luck figuring out what they meant by “justice.”
And it didn’t stop there. As writing developed into full-fledged scripts, we gained the ability to record more complex ideas. That meant abstract nouns like “truth” and “freedom” were no longer just things you debated around the campfire—they could now be written down and preserved for future generations to also argue about. Nothing says “progress” like ensuring centuries of philosophical bickering.
But the real revolution came later. Fast forward to the 15th century, and along comes Johannes Gutenberg with his shiny new printing press. Suddenly, words—once limited to painstakingly hand-copied manuscripts—could be mass-produced. Books, pamphlets, and flyers could be printed in quantities never before imagined. Ideas could spread like wildfire.
And what ideas they were. Philosophers, theologians, and politicians alike jumped on the opportunity to get their words in front of as many people as possible. The written word wasn’t just a way to record information anymore—it became a tool for shaping societies, sparking revolutions, and (of course) stirring up endless debates about everything.
Of course, there was a catch. The printing press didn’t make language any clearer—it just gave us more of it to misunderstand. People could now read the same text and come away with completely different interpretations. What one person saw as a treatise on “freedom,” another saw as a justification for tyranny. What one reader thought was “truth,” another deemed blasphemy.
With the written word and the printing press, we managed to take the problems of spoken language and make them permanent. Miscommunication wasn’t just an unfortunate accident anymore—it was printed in ink, distributed en masse, and immortalised for future generations to argue over. If Wittgenstein had been alive during Gutenberg’s time, he probably would have thrown his hands in the air and said, “See? I told you words don’t mean what you think they mean.”
But hey, at least we were consistent. From clay tablets to printed books, the written word gave us the power to preserve language—and all its glorious inadequacies—for all time.
The Printing Press: Mass-Producing Confusion
The printing press was hailed as one of the greatest inventions in history. And sure, it was. It democratized knowledge, empowered literacy, and paved the way for all sorts of wonderful progress. But let’s be real—it also democratised miscommunication. Now, instead of one person misunderstanding you in conversation, hundreds—or thousands—could read your words and completely miss the point. Progress!
Gutenberg’s press took the words that were once fleeting and made them indelible. No more clarifying in real-time. No more adding context or adjusting your message on the fly. Once it was in print, that was it. You’d better hope your readers were playing the same “language game” as you, or things could go downhill fast.
Take Martin Luther, for example. He nailed his 95 Theses to the church door in 1517, and thanks to the printing press, those words spread all over Europe. What he intended as a call for reform turned into a revolution that spiralled far beyond his control. People read the same text and took wildly different meanings from it—some saw it as a plea for theological discussion, others as a call to burn down the nearest cathedral.
But it didn’t stop there. Luther’s seemingly clear ideas splintered into countless interpretations, and over time, what began as a movement for reform became the launchpad for hundreds of Protestant denominations. Each group interpreted Luther’s message (and the Bible) in their own unique way. From Lutheranism to Calvinism to the Baptists, Methodists, and beyond, the Protestant Reformation exploded into a thousand branches, all claiming to have grasped the “true” meaning of Luther’s words.
And this? This is the power – and the peril – of the written word. Once something is printed and distributed, it takes on a life of its own. Luther might have had one specific vision for his reforms, but as soon as those ideas hit the printing press, they fractured into countless interpretations, each with its own twist on “truth.” It’s a linguistic free-for-all, with everyone holding the same text and coming to completely different conclusions.
The printing press didn’t just give us more words—it gave us more misunderstandings. Suddenly, philosophical debates, political manifestos, and theological treatises were flying off the presses, each one ready to be misinterpreted by whoever happened to pick it up. And once it was printed, there was no going back. No retractions. No take-backs. Just page after page of linguistic uncertainty.
So while the printing press undoubtedly transformed society, it also multiplied the number of ways we could miscommunicate with each other. Because if there’s one thing we’re good at, it’s misunderstanding words – especially when they’re written down for all eternity.
As I’ve mentioned, I’m hip-deep into writing another book. I’m about 40,000 words in and 40 per cent done. Many chapters still contain placeholder notes and ideas to flesh out. I’ll be honest. Many of the chapters contain only themes, notes, references, and citations. Some are ostensibly first drafts. For these chapters. I’ve engaged AutoCrit*, an AI copy editing and review application to keep me on track. I don’t particularly want to share too much inside information at this time, but I’d like to share some of AutoCrit’s feedback in dribs and drabs.
AutoCrit can analyse content by chapter. The first is a preamble—a preface. Here’s what AutoCrit has to say about it, categorised. I’ll present the raw responses and comment thereafter.
Synopsis
The non-fiction work “Democracy: The Grand Illusion” challenges the sanctity of democracy and questions its effectiveness by delving into inherent flaws often overlooked. The text opens with a provocative exploration of the fundamental flaws in democracy, arguing that it leads to suboptimal solutions and mediocre results both in theory and practice. It highlights how human nature, cognitive limitations, emotional triggers, and biases impact the execution of democratic systems.
Throughout the book, various forms of democracy are examined across different historical contexts globally. From ancient Mesopotamia to modern-day Western democracies like the United States, the author critiques the shortcomings of democratic governance. By dissecting voter apathy, cognitive biases, and mathematical imperfections in voting systems, they aim to provide a nuanced understanding of why democracy may be fundamentally flawed.
The text concludes by emphasising that while there may not be a perfect solution to address these flaws within democratic systems, incremental reforms can make them fairer and more effective. It acknowledges resistance from those who benefit from maintaining the status quo but argues for ongoing efforts towards improving governance despite historical precedents favouring entrenched power structures.
In its closing remarks on reforming governing systems knowing their inherent imperfections will persist, “Democracy: The Grand Illusion” leaves readers contemplating potential avenues for change within existing frameworks rather than advocating for revolutionary upheavals. Through referencing philosophical critiques dating back to Plato’s “Republic” as well as contemporary works on cognitive limitations like Daniel Kahneman’s “Thinking Fast and Slow,” this book encourages critical thinking about democratisation processes amidst evolving technological landscapes shaping public discourse.
Commentary
This feels like a fair assessment.
Audience
The audience for this text appears to be intellectually curious individuals interested in political theory, governance systems, and critical analysis of democracy. This includes academics, political scientists, philosophers, and readers who enjoy engaging with thought-provoking ideas that challenge conventional wisdom. The text seems tailored for those willing to question deeply held beliefs about democracy and open to exploring alternative perspectives on the subject.
Those who may not be the target audience include staunch defenders of traditional democratic principles without room for critical evaluation or scepticism. Readers seeking a straightforward endorsement of democracy as an ideal system may find the content challenging or even off-putting. Additionally, individuals looking for practical solutions or concrete proposals to improve democratic processes might feel unsatisfied by the lack of definitive recommendations in the text.
To make the text more relevant to its target audience, the author could consider providing more historical context and philosophical insights into various critiques of democracy throughout history. Including case studies or real-world examples that illustrate some of the challenges discussed could also enhance engagement with readers interested in applying theoretical concepts to contemporary issues. Moreover, offering suggestions for further reading or avenues for deeper exploration into specific aspects of democratic theory would cater well to an intellectually engaged audience seeking additional resources for continued study and reflection.
Commentary
This feels like a fair assessment of potential audience acceptance and resistance to engagement. As this is only the preface, historical contexts are in later chapters.
Structure and Organisation
The text is well-organised and follows a logical order. It begins with a preface quoting an anonymous source, setting the tone for introspection and critical analysis. The introduction effectively sets the stage by posing thought-provoking questions about democracy’s efficacy before delving into the main premises of the book. The author then transitions smoothly to discussing inherent challenges in democracy, historical contexts, implications of cognitive limitations, and critiques from various perspectives.
Each section flows seamlessly into the next, building upon previous discussions while maintaining coherence throughout. The text effectively introduces key concepts before expanding on them further, ensuring that readers can follow along with the author’s arguments and insights without confusion or disarray. Additionally, citations are appropriately included at relevant points to support claims made within the text.
Overall, “Democracy: The Grand Illusion” demonstrates strong structure and organisation by presenting its content in a clear and cohesive manner that guides readers through a nuanced exploration of democracy’s flaws and complexities.
Commentary
This feels like a fair assessment of my structural intent. I admit that in its current state, there is more structure than content. I’ll accept this unpaid endorsement.
Clarity
The author effectively conveys their central argument challenging the effectiveness of democracy and highlighting its inherent flaws. The text is well-structured and maintains a coherent flow throughout. However, there are instances where complex sentence structures and specialized terminology may hinder comprehension for some readers.
One example of potentially confusing language is when the author discusses “cognitive limitations exacerbating the execution of democracy from the perspective of voters and representatives.” This phrase might benefit from further clarification or simplification to ensure all readers grasp the intended meaning without difficulty.
Additionally, phrases like “mathematically tenable” and references to specific philosophical critiques or mathematical concepts could be challenging for readers not familiar with these subjects. Providing more context or explanations for such terms would enhance overall clarity for a broader audience.
Overall, while the text generally communicates its message effectively, some areas could be improved by offering clearer explanations or simplifying complex language to ensure maximum reader understanding.
Commentary
This feels like a fair assessment of clarity. I do my best not to muck it up. I’ll tighten up the language in a subsequent review. My modus operandi is to scrawl the stream of consciousness before restricting my flow with editorial concerns.
Argument and Persuasion
In the text, the author presents a provocative argument challenging the effectiveness of democracy and highlighting its inherent flaws. The opinions put forth include questioning the sanctity of democracy as a fair and equal system of governance, suggesting that it leads to suboptimal solutions with mediocre results both in theory and practice, emphasising human cognitive limitations and biases that hinder democratic processes, and proposing that democracy may be fundamentally flawed due to these factors.
Strengths of the persuasive elements in this text lie in its thought-provoking nature. By raising questions about widely held assumptions regarding democracy’s efficacy, the author encourages critical thinking among readers. The logical construction is evident through a systematic breakdown of various aspects contributing to the perceived flaws in democratic systems – from mathematical imperfections in voting mechanisms to challenges posed by human nature and cognitive biases.
The opinions presented are well-supported with references to historical perspectives (such as Ancient Athens) and philosophical critiques (Plato’s “The Republic,” Aristotle’s “Politics”) on democracy. Additionally, citations from contemporary sources like Daniel Kahneman’s work on cognitive biases lend credibility to the arguments made.
Overall, while some readers may find the critique of democracy unsettling or elitist, the text effectively challenges conventional beliefs without offering a definitive alternative solution. This approach prompts readers to engage critically with existing governance structures rather than simply dismissing them outright.
Commentary
This feels like a fair assessment. My goal is to survey the flavours of Democracy to serve as a menu to readers. Democracy is an inherently poor system of governance, but some flavours are better than others if one prefers to remain in this box.
Tone
The tone of the text is critical and provocative, challenging the traditional notions of democracy with a sense of scepticism and urgency. The author’s language conveys a sense of disillusionment with the current democratic systems, highlighting flaws and limitations that are often overlooked or dismissed. There is an underlying frustration with the status quo and a call to action for readers to critically examine their beliefs about democracy. The tone also carries elements of elitism, acknowledging that the critique may not be readily accepted by all but emphasizing the importance of questioning widely held assumptions. Overall, there is a mix of cynicism towards existing democratic structures and a hopeful aspiration for potential reforms or alternative governance models.
Commentary
This feels like a fair assessment of tone. I don’t mind being polemic, but I may work to soften some tonal aspects. As my intended audience are more intellectual critical thinkers, it may be fine as-is.
Interest and Engagement
The text “Democracy: The Grand Illusion” presents a thought-provoking and intellectually stimulating analysis of democracy, challenging conventional perspectives on the subject. Overall, the author effectively engages the audience by presenting a unique perspective and raising important questions about the efficacy of democratic systems.
The introduction sets a captivating tone by questioning the fundamental flaws in democracy and highlighting its limitations. The author’s use of rhetorical questions and provocative statements encourages readers to think critically about commonly held beliefs regarding democracy. Additionally, referencing historical contexts and philosophical critiques adds depth to the discussion, making it more engaging for those interested in political theory.
However, there are sections within the text that may potentially lose some readers’ interest due to their dense nature or repetitive arguments. For instance, parts discussing mathematical flaws in voting systems or technological impacts on democracy could be perceived as overly technical for general audiences. To enhance engagement in these sections, the author could consider incorporating real-world examples or case studies to illustrate complex concepts more clearly.
Furthermore, providing concise summaries or visual aids such as graphs or charts may help break down intricate ideas into digestible segments for readers who may struggle with dense theoretical discussions. By balancing theoretical analyses with practical applications and varied presentation styles, the author can maintain reader engagement throughout all sections of the book.
In conclusion, while “Democracy: The Grand Illusion” successfully captures attention through its bold critique of democracy’s shortcomings, enhancing engagement across all sections through improved clarity and varied presentation methods will ensure sustained interest from a wider range of readers.
Commentary
This feels like a fair assessment of engagement. My goal is to flesh this out in forward revisions as I assess continuity and flow. Meantime, capturing content into buckets is a higher priority than caring about redundancy.
Final Thoughts and Conclusions
The text concludes with a strong and thought-provoking reflection on the challenges and complexities of democracy. It effectively ties together the various points raised throughout the book, emphasizing the inherent flaws in democratic systems while also acknowledging the necessity of governance for societal well-being. The author leaves readers with a sense of urgency to reconsider traditional notions of democracy and encourages critical thinking towards potential reforms or alternative models. Overall, the final thoughts are clear and impactful and provide a compelling conclusion to the discussion presented in the text.
Commentary
I’ll take it.
How does this project sound to you? Leave comments below.
* AutoCrit is an AI editorial review application. Whilst I don’t have enough exposure or experience to fully endorse the programme, I am a subscriber who uses it to critique my writing. I am, however, an affiliate member, so if you purchase a subscription, I will receive compensation from them, and it will benefit this site at no additional expense to you.
Money is one of the most pervasive fictions in human society. Traditionally, it is thought that money evolved from barter systems, where goods and services were directly exchanged. However, anthropologist David Graeber, in his book “Debt: The First 5,000 Years” (2011), argues that this narrative is largely a myth. According to Graeber, there is little historical evidence to support the idea that societies primarily relied on barter before the advent of money. Instead, he suggests that credit systems were more prevalent, where people kept track of debts and credits in the absence of physical currency.
Graeber’s perspective challenges the conventional economic narrative by emphasizing the role of social relationships and trust in early economic transactions. Rather than evolving from barter to commodity money (like gold and silver coins) and then to fiat money, economies often operated on the basis of mutual obligations and social bonds long before the invention of physical currency. This underscores the idea that money, in all its forms, is a social construct—a fiction agreed upon by the members of a society.
Fiat money, which is currency that a government has declared to be legal tender but is not backed by a physical commodity, relies entirely on trust and belief in its value rather than any intrinsic worth. Its value comes from the collective agreement that money can be used for transactions, illustrating how deeply embedded fictions can shape our economic reality.
Economies as Constructs
Economies, much like money, are constructed systems designed to organize and facilitate the production, distribution, and consumption of goods and services. The idea of a market economy, where supply and demand determine prices and allocation of resources, is a theoretical construct that has been widely adopted and adapted across the globe. Economic theories and models, while rooted in empirical observations, are also shaped by human assumptions and values.
For example, capitalism, the dominant economic system in much of the world, is built on the principles of private property, free markets, and competition. These principles are human-made constructs that have been institutionalized through laws, regulations, and cultural norms. The notion of “economic growth” itself is a concept that has been prioritized and pursued, shaping policies and societal goals.
Implications of Economic Fictions
Understanding economies and money as fictions highlights their dependence on collective belief and participation. This perspective allows us to critically examine the assumptions underlying economic systems and consider alternative models. For instance, the rise of digital currencies like Bitcoin challenges traditional notions of money by introducing decentralized and peer-to-peer forms of exchange.
Moreover, recognizing the fictional nature of economies can lead to more flexible and adaptive economic policies. It encourages innovation and experimentation with new economic frameworks that may better address contemporary challenges such as inequality, environmental sustainability, and technological disruption.
By exploring the fictions of economies and money, we gain insight into the powerful influence of human-made constructs on our daily lives. This awareness can inspire us to question and potentially reshape these constructs to create more equitable and resilient economic systems for the future.
References
Graeber, David. Debt: The First 5,000 Years (2011).
Giddens, Anthony. The Consequences of Modernity (1990).
Beck, Ulrich. Cosmopolitan Vision (2006).
Anderson, Benedict. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism (1983).
As a result of these recommendations, I’ve watched some 6 or more hours of video interviews with Iain, some of which are hosted on his own site, Channel McGilchrist, including this one. Before I get to the topic promised by the title of this post, I’ll say that I like Iain. I respect his intellect, his demeanour, and his approach. If you are a credentialist, his an Oxford-educated psychiatrist—so he’s no slouch.
Iain’s positions are well researched, informed, and articulated. I could listen to him for hours. In fact, I have. And yet I disagree with a fundamental position he takes on intuition. Allow me to build up to that.
My first recommendation was due to a reaction I shared that depicting left-right brain hemisphere as analytic-creative was overly reductionist and quaint. McGilchrist was recommended because he disagreed. But it turns out his disagreement was more in the way it was being portrayed. The answer was wrong because the question was wrong. In a nutshell, his contention is that we shouldn’t be asking what each hemisphere processes, but how it goes about processing. I agree with this.
we shouldn’t be asking what each hemisphere processes, but how it goes about processing
His point is that in cases where an experience (inputs) might be processed on one side versus another, the interpretation (outputs) would necessarily differ. To make a false analogy, the left brain might be performing an exponential function whilst the right brain might be performing an arithmetic function. So, if ƒ(left) = xx and ƒ(right) = x+x, then an input of 3 would yield 27 and 6, respectively. There is nothing wrong with either side, they just produce different results. In context, this difference might matter: How many feet across is that chasm I must leap. I say, ‘Oops’, as I am falling to my demise having underestimated the difference, having used the right rather than the left function.
False Analogy by the Numbers
So where is this showdown you are wittering on about? A little more setup.
Science is stereotypically an analytic function, which is the say it requires a lot of left hemisphere processing. Psychology—and keep in mind that I cast psychology as pseudoscience, or para-science when I am being more charitable—elevates the notion of intuition as not only having value but of being largely ignored by science.
Those who have been following me for a while, know that I am also critical of Scientistm™, the blind-faith devotion to the current state of science as being some infallible truth. But neither am I an advocate for metaphysical claims. This is what I feel Psychology™ is trying to do with intuition. It feels like they are not only trying to inject a metaphysical claim; they are simultaneously making a normative claim that you should have (and trust) intuition; further, they are staking out the territory to be able to say an absence of this acceptance is pathological, so this is a power play. We’ve got the tea leaf readers taking up arms against science.
Of course, I am being hyperbolic and polemic for effect, but this division exists. Iain is not the first to attempt to elevate intuition. A central idea that Jonathan Haidt tries to sell the reader on in his book, The Righteous Mind, is that we need to be more accepting and trusting of intuition. Even Malcolm Gladwell pushed this point in Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking.
I do think that this will escalate. Even if it doesn’t materialise into a full-scale war, people will take sides—they already have—, and we’ll see more us versus them fingerpointing. Whilst I am not fully on the side of science, my propensity is to lean in that direction.
UPDATE: Even before I post this, I discover that I am behind the times with this prediction. In searching for a suitable image for this post, I find the book Science and Pseudoscience in Clinical Psychology, which calls out pseudoscience presented as fact not only in the obvious realm of pop psychology but in the offices of practising psychologists. I have not read it, so I am not in a position to recommend it. I may get a copy for myself, if only just to have it on hand.
Before I end this, I also wish to anticipate a point of disagreement. I’ve encountered practitioners of ‘scientific psychology’ who vehemently defend their vocation as science. Without addressing this directly, let’s just raise the point that applying the scientific method and maths to a discipline doesn’t graduate it to become a science. I can apply this to Tarot or haruspicy. If fact, this is how, in general, social sciences became so-called soft sciences: ‘Look at me, mum. I’m using numbers’.
Where do you fall on the topic of intuition? Am I exaggerating and making mountains out of molehills?
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A colleague who happens to be a professor in New South Wales shared this video with me. I am tempted to just recapture the presented content here, but I feel everyone should just watch it for full impact. I intentionally used a cover image that is counter to the narrative. The challenge is not overpopulation. Rather, it’s the opposite. Find out why.
Video: RSNSW Clarke Memorial Lecture 2021: The changing tide of human populations: an infertility trap
I’ve cued the video beyond the introduction—feel free to rewind for context, but there is no material content to be missed—, and there are a couple of minutes of additional material at the end, making the content closer to 50 minutes (48.5) than an hour.
The Infertility Trap was published last month as a book. I’ve not read it, but it was referenced. Countdown, by Shanna Swan is also referenced.
Book Cover: The Infertility TrapBook Cover: Countdown
Some highlights follow:
The Rise and Rise of Humankind
Geometric growth commenced after the Black Plague was driven by the discovery of how to harness fossil fuel. As with Malthusian predictions, The Population Bomb missed the mark—but not for all of the reasons you might be thinking.
Changing Pace of Population Growth
Population growth rates were already on the decline when The Population Bomb was published in 1968. This trend was a result of the fertility trend that became precipitous circa 1963.
The Demographic Transition: Population Momentum
Though birth rates may seem to be increasing, this is merely optics as this is a legacy of positive population momentum stemming from high birth rates a few decades prior to the impending decline in fertility.
The Malthusian Paradox
Thomas Malthus didn’t grasp the paradigmatic shift technology would provide nor the relationship between fertility and prosperity.
Charts: Prosperity, infant mortality, child mortality, and fertility rate
As prosperity (as measured by GDP) increases, infant and child mortality as well as total fertility rate, each decrease. (I’m calling out the poor statistical representation of the non-zero-based Y-axis, but I don’t believe this was done to exaggerate the slope. It’s apparently just out of index.)
Reproductive Patterns: Australia vs !Kung Hunter-Gatherers
Notable in the charts above, are the delays in reproduction by the average Australian woman to around 30 years effectively limits the delivery to about 2 (1.7) whereas the hunter-gatherers commence closer to 20 years, yielding them an average of 5 children.
Rapid decline in semen quality
Semen quality (motility) and count are down.
Projections: Countdown to sperm count of zero in Paris and New Zealand
If declining semen count trends remain unabated or unaltered, one might anticipate a point where male fertility (potency?) reaches zero. This is characterised as azoopermia and projects this on Parisian males just past 2030 and by 2026 for New Zealanders.
Secular trend in declining testosterone levels
This downward trend is not constrained by region.
Trends in Testicular Cancer (NSW)
A correlated trend in fertility rate is an increase in testicular cancer, as shown with NSW data, even as ovarian cancer remains steady and cervical cancers are decreasing.
Reproductive Cancers in New South Wales
Conversely, other reproductive cancers (in NSW)—uterine and breast cancers—are on the rise in sync with testicular cancers and the drop in fertility.
My intent with this post is to share rather than editorialise. The video speaks for itself. I’ve provided some excerpted content for those who can’t spare the time to view the source.
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I’ve been cycling through The Righteous Mind and Moral Tribes, respectively by Jonathan Haidt and Joshua Greene. These blokes are social psychologists and moral philosophers. I started each of these books with the conception that I would neither like nor agree with the content. As for like, I suppose that’s a silly preconception better captured by whether or not I agree; that with which I don’t agree, I don’t like.
This said, I like the style of both of the authors, and I am finding the material to be less contentious than I first thought. I can already envisage myself agreeing with much of the substance but waiting to disagree with the conclusions.
Although I committed myself to document The Righteous Mind in situ, I am finding that I am listening to the audiobook whilst driving and so getting ahead of myself, so I’ll have to rewind and retread in order to do this. In fact, the reason I switched back to Greene’s Moral Tribes is so I wouldn’t progress even further in Haidt’s work.
I am writing this post to acknowledge this. I’d also like to document that I don’t believe that humans are good reasoners, a situation both Haidt and Greene cite to be generally true. Humans are post hoc rationalisers, which is to say that they make up their minds and then create a narrative to justify that position. Haidt uses an analogy of an elephant and a rider, and he asserts that humans might more accurately be described as groupish than selfish. Certainly not shellfish. Greene notes that people have been shown to concede self-interest to political party interest, which helps to explain how people continually and predictably vote against their own self-interests. This also supports my position that democracy is a horrible form of government. Of course, Haidt would argue that this proves his point that people tend to adopt facts that support their perspective and diminish or disregard those that don’t.
it doesn’t follow that intuition is (1) better, (2) significantly better, or (3) good enough for (a) long term viability or (b) grasping complexity.
Haidt suggests that reason is overvalued, but then he proposes intuition as a better alternative. I agree with him that reason is overvalued and for the same reasons (no pun intended) that he does. But it doesn’t follow that intuition is (1) better, (2) significantly better, or (3) good enough for (a) long term viability or (b) grasping complexity.
Whilst I am not immune to this any more than someone else. I recall Kahneman writing in Thinking Fast and Slow that even though he is well aware of cognitive biases and fallacies, he himself can’t escape them either. When I used to teach undergraduate economics, I’d give some sort of policy assignment. As a preamble, I’d instruct the students that without exception, all policy decisions have pros and cons. In their submissions, they’d need to gather both supporting and detracting arguments and then articulate why one should be adopted over another. Minimally, I’d expect at least three pros and cons.
The students would almost invariably complain about how difficult it was to imagine a counter-position. Even when they’d include some, they were usually weak tea fodder. Oftentimes, the students already shared the same perspective, so they couldn’t usually even get the opposing side until we debriefed after the assignments had been graded. Although I do recall instances where students would admit that they hadn’t considered this or that opposing view, I can’t recall a case where a position was flipped after hearing new evidence—not that this was my intention. People do engage in escalating commitment, doubling down on existing beliefs and generating defensive—sometimes tortuous—arguments to support their positions.
I’ve been pondering the notion of democracy. This is not new for me. I’ve looked around and asked myself, ‘If democracy is so great, why is it not more widely adopted’. I don’t mean why don’t other countries try it? And I don’t mean to confound the issue by arguing that a republic is not a democracy, the last refuge of the desperate.
Democracy is a pathetic belief in the collective wisdom of individual ignorance.
What I wonder is why, if it’s so good, why don’t companies structure democratically? Why not the military? I’ve always found this particularly humorous: An autocratic, socialised structure defending democracy. Some of the biggest democratic flag-wavers are military and ex-military.
I know that most military members in the US would be lucky to work flipping burgers at McDonald’s. Some speak of the mental illness and homelessness of military veterans, but this misses the direction of the arrow of causation. These people had a free ride, room, and board on Uncle Sam’s dime in the States—some other denomination elsewhere. It’s really no wonder that one wouldn’t want to give these people a voice in military affairs, and yet they do get a voice in civilian affairs. It’s a good thing almost half of Americans eligible to vote don’t.
The best argument against democracy is a five-minute conversation with the average voter.
Winston Churchill
I’ve already mentioned that democracy is a sham and its best feature is the illusion of control. I suppose if I come up with something better, I might write about it. Until then, it’s just one of many mediocre options.
Interestingly, some people’s options are asinine. Frank Karsten hawking his book and ideology on Beyond Democracy thinks that downsizing is the answer. Hans-Hermann Hoppe agrees, as he posits in several essays in Democracy: The God that Failed. I don’t disagree, but his basic point seems to be that 300MM people deciding is too much, so perhaps 10MM or 20MM might work better. What’s the limit? Why not 150? How is conflict among this smaller political units adjudicated? With this downsizing, how does the system control the urge for upsizing? In the end, this feels like more Libertarian, anarcho-capitalistic mental masturbation, which as I type this feels redundant. Unfortunately, the common denominator is people, and that’s Achilles’ heel.
I’m wondering whether I should delve into Lacan. I am only vaguely aware of him and have never read any of his published essays or lectures. From what I’ve gleaned, I may end up down some rabbit hole. His interest in the function of language interests me, but his analogy of that to psychoanalysis is disconcerting.
The analogy is fine, but I have a problem with the entire field of psychoanalysis as I view it as pseudoscience. As with Freud and Jung, the speculation around the unconscious and their metaphors are fine storytelling, but that’s about it.
My interest is in his structural approach to language and the notion I share concerning the lack of specificity in language, but it seems to me that my time would be better spent reading Derrida.
Lacan is categorised as both a structuralist and a post-structuralist, which might be correct given the period in which he lived, but I am still trying to figure out how he might be considered to be a post-structuralist, as he seems to be concerned with a sense of order, which is somewhat antithetical to this worldview.
Philosophics 