The crisis that can be community

A few days ago, it was reported that a Russian "Bear" bomber - one of those old prop-driven behemoths that they built at the onset of the Cold War - approached Canadian airspace.  In a display of typically-Canadian self assurance, Peter MacKay went on to make a bunch of lame-o macho statements about how our "world class air force" turned the plane around on a dime, and how they better not try that again, etc.  Russia responded with the casual indifference that one would expect in light of such accusations on the part of a Canadian defence minister: a brush-off of the claims of airspace infringement, accompanied by an assurance that all proper diplomatic channels were being utilized.  

Despite the surface vanity of it all, I'm not surprised that it made the news in Canada and abroad.  Aside from the obvious questions that immediately come to mind - firstly, how the heck did a 55-year old tin can reach Nunavut, and secondly, how did the CF manage to get two fighters up there to meet it - this episode stirred me up in a couple slightly more abstract ways. Whether one considers the increasing amount of Russian shows of military force around the world - Harper & Co. aren't fabricating that one - or the sensationalist Canadian media response, it becomes evident that both governments are utilizing one of the most powerful weapons in history: nationalism.  

Now, it's important to point out that this type of allegiance to one's nation is so deeply engrained in human nature, that it would be arrogant to write it off as a wholly negative force.  On the contrary, I'd say that it can be a positive source of self-identity.  However, it also has the potential to morph into more isolating, inflammable phenomena such as patriotism, populism, and even racism.  If being united with others by nationalism can be characterized as a type of community - as I believe it can - then letting it take certain forms represents a loss of any positive nature that that community once embodied.   

Let me expand on that a little.  I'm currently reading Becoming Human, a print account of Jean Vanier's contribution to CBC's "Massey Lecture" series in 1998.  Vanier is the founded of L'Arche, a worldwide network of communities that exist to foster societal inclusion of, and care for, people that live with intellectual disabilities.  It's not hard to imagine, then, that Vanier fully recognizes the benefits of sharing communal bonds with people of a common vision or mission; in Becoming Human, he describes how the residents of the L'Arche communities are united by the simple desire to express love towards lonely people, and realize that they have just as much to offer to humanity as anyone else.  By inviting people to live at L'Arche, the organization is allowing them to experience the type of belonging that is, according to Vanier, a basic human need, as essential as food, water, or oxygen.  

However, Vanier also acknowledges that communion can take on forms that are exclusive, volatile, and encourage feelings or superiority over others.  I've quickly come to realize that the author is keen to identify key dualisms in human nature, and he succinctly summarizes the positive and negative potential of community as such:

There is an innate need in our hearts to identify with a group, both for protection and for security, to discover and affirm our identity, and to use the group to prove our worthiness and goodness, indeed, even to prove that we are better than others.  It is my belief that it is not religion or culture at the root of human conflict but the way in which groups use religion or culture to dominate one another. (Becoming Human, p. 35)

Although Vanier doesn't explicitly address national identity in his analysis, I don't think it's too far-fetched to draw a parallel between the type of cultural belonging that he speaks of, and our conceptualization of nationalism.  Just as he implies that the basic desire to "identify ourselves with a group" can be corrupted into segregation, I believe that the sense of belonging and unity that we naturally derive from being Canadians, Italians or Laotians can devolve into evil, base impulses such as racism.  Whether one looks at the rise of Facism in Europe in the 1930's or the genocide in Rwanda in the 90's, the conflicts that took place can characterized as community gone way, way wrong.  

"Belonging is a beautiful but terrible reality."  Vanier makes this statement in the middle of an elongated analogy, in which he compares the development of the relationship between a child and his/her parents with the experience of individuals integrating into community in general.  In this passage, he seeks to point out that as well as having a potentially damaging impact on people outside of the group through devices such as degradation and exclusion, communities can also end up harming the individuality of those within them.  Although the relative weakness of a child can be an opportunity for parents to influence them in loving, nurturing ways, it can also create a situation where they're, in the words of Vanier, "crushed or manipulated".  In the same way, nationalism that morphs into patriotism and populism can begin to devalue the unique individual nature of the people within the nation.

Unfortunately, I see the world polarizing into an east-west dichotomy in recent years, and I believe it's largely due to this sort of corrupted nationalism, the type that idealizes the culture and history of communities, and closes them out to others.  As long as presidents, foreign ministers, and everyday Joes continue to search for differences between people around the world instead of emphasizing similarities, some of the biggest communal groups that exist in human society - nations - are going to be a perennial source of conflict and strife.  

All quotes in this post were taken from Chapter 2: Belonging of the book form of Jean Vanier's 1998 Massey Lecture, "Becoming Human" (Toronto: House of Anansi Press, 2008).  Contact me for specific quotation references.  

An unreasonable proposition

My aunt, who's trained as a nutritionist, recently told me that spinach is the healthiest all-around vegetable that I could consume.  Despite the fact that I find many preparations of spinach border on the offensive, I've chosen to take her advice to heart, and have tried to incorporate the chewy little leaf into my diet.  Metabolically speaking, this inclusion should improve my prospects for maintaining my overall health.

What if, however, I took her advice to mean that the broad range of benefits derived from eating it made spinach a panacea?  What if I perceived her statement that it had "all-around goodness" to mean that it was all I need to keep the ol' engine purring?  You probably think that I'd have to be some kind of kook to take it this way - fair enough.  It's amazing, though, how many people approach the realms of philosophy and theology this way.  One concept, one perception, as a type of cosmic cure-all.  Case in point in Wednesday's BBC Magazine.

Perhaps the author of the article, Manil Suri, had a word limit imposed on him by the publication, or was pressured into giving a very brief precis of a broader concept.  Still, I find it shocking that a supposedly well-respected academic could make such a bold (arrogant?) statement in so few words.  What exactly does he mean when he states we should not "get irritated or invoke God or tradition" when helping our children answer basic questions?  Is he implying that we are "misleading the malleable" by teaching them to explore questions of spirituality?  His parochial belief in the superiority of "basic humanist principles" - blatantly revealed by his equating of them with "common sense" - reeks of the type of dogmatism that he would seem to oppose.

Furthermore, doesn't Suri's identification of a logic-ideology dichotomy seem shamelessly ideological in itself?  The New Oxford American Dictionary defines ideology as "the ideas and manner of thinking characteristic of a group, social class, or individual."  In my opinion, his clear conviction of - indeed, obsession with - the preeminence of rationalist philosophy places him in a category of intellectual enslavement comparable only to the most extreme religious fundamentalists that he would presumably disparage.  Again, it's possible that he's not as tunnel-visioned as he comes across in this article; however, his word choice and audacious style makes it difficult for me to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Finally, I'm concerned with the sociological/psychological/emotional implications of bringing up our children based on such principles.  Of course, logical reasoning skills need to be at the centre of any educational strategy; they are, after all, one of the core faculties that allow us to function in everyday life.  However, if we teach them that all answers can be found using pure logic as we understand it, we're inevitably setting them up for a life of disappointment and breakdown.  Even worse, we're denying them the hope, joy, and wonder that should be definitive of any childhood, and indeed adulthood.

I thought that the photo at the top of the article was really telling.  Here you have a young man, probably in his pre-teens, sitting at a desk in a modern, metallic-looking study area of some sort.  He's wearing a t-shirt that seems to glorify "success" and "achievement" - note the soaring eagle, the great symbol of ascent and regality - and is probably doing a math problem, judging by his choice of a pencil as a writing instrument.  The backdrop is an outer-space view of Earth, and seems to bathe the entire room in an exciting blue glow.  Science is king in this scene, the vehicle that will propel this kid through the atmosphere of mediocrity to the unknown elite heights.  

As I consider it more, the  Suri's way of thinking doesn't just have philosophical and spiritual implications for the development of children, although these are profound.  This mindset also has the potential to prevent young people from becoming true neighbors to those around them. Where do virtues such as empathy, grace and humility fit into his paradigm?  They don't seem to, as I see it, and that's a very sad thing.  Ironically, this makes Suri's "logical" proposition one of the most unreasonable that I've heard in quite a while.

Virtual insanity?

Required listening/watching.

“Futures made of virtual insanity 
now always seem to be governed by this love we have For useless, twisting, our new technology 
Oh there is no sound for we all live underground”

Last week, my boss asked me to sit in on a “webinar” on the benefits of “social media” utilities such as blogs, Facebook, and Twitter.  For those of you who don’t know, a webinar is basically a glorified power point presentation streamed over the internet; in this case, it was accompanied by a one-way audio dialogue of a guy/girl guiding you through the slides.  It was arranged by a firm called “Firstgiving” who, as is suggested by its utilization of the savvy presentation medium, extolled the opportunities social media presented for the fundraising operations of not-for-profits.  Although I thought the presentation itself could have been a bit more convincing, the base idea behind it – that the networking opportunities offered by the Internet hold endless possibilities – seems to be consuming western society like wildfire.

Admittedly, my own buns have been thoroughly toasted.  Despite the fact that I initially viewed Facebook as nothing more than a virtual plebe-filled People mag, I’ve increasingly bought into its virtues as of late.  As someone who’s studied /worked in the international development field, I recognize that civil society engagement and community building are some of the most powerful ingredients of an effective campaign: mediums such as Facebook and blogs are able to extend a common banner over individuals from vastly different walks of life.   Whereas I may have been able to have a conversation such as this one over a pint with a few friends on a Saturday night in a world without blogs, this forum grants me an unprecedented opportunity to share my thoughts with people whom I’d never have a reason to wet my whistle with.  Such an evolution could easily be casted as a social revolution, which has enabled people to advocate and mobilize for good causes at a level never before seen.  Every revolution has its guillotine, however, and all to often heads are rolling before anybody notices. 

If one can get past the seemingly blatant hypocrisy of a synthesizer-saturated band like Jamiroquai preaching the vanity of our obsession with technology, it’s easy to see that the lyricist has a point that can be applied to the social networking craze.  From what I can see, the verse that I’ve quoted above – the chorus from the band’s song “Virtual Insanity” – conveys a view that technological advancements have consumed us to the point that our individual and collective futures are controlled by them – a reality that we remain largely oblivious to.  I recently watched a PBS Frontline documentary called “Growing Up Online” that attempted to profile the demographic that grew up literally “snared in the Net”: those born in the early 90’s and onward.  It assembles a fairly diverse panel of academics, parents and teenagers, all of whom reserve widely ranging views on the cumulative impacts the ubiquity of the Internet is having on young people.  One thing they all agreed on, though, was that your average American 13 year old has been absolutely submerged in an ocean of social networks: as Jamiroquai so funkily asserted, their deaf to any world outside of Myspace.   

I'm stumped as to whether I should consider myself fully part of this generation. Granted, I've been using computers for must of my life: since Grade 3, a portion of my schoolday has been designated for some software-based activity, whether it involve slogging through touch typing drills or fighting off cholera on the Oregon Trail.  It wasn't until I was about 11 or 12, though, that my family got "wired", and another one or two years before I'd ever dabbled in e-mail or instant messaging.  Whereas my mom was still making me send snail mail to my cousin on his birthday when I was 8, a tyke of the same age in 2009 has likely never tasted envelope glue.  

Granted, extent of exposure aside, I feel fully caught up in the fast-pace, “now now NOW!” culture that’s largely the offspring of the advent of cyberspace.  My laptop decided – rather inconveniently – to “take a break” on an ill-fated night in mid-December, and during it’s R&R-filled holiday at the technicians’ place over Christmas I was, at times, absolutely, hopelessly lost.  Although it’s really not that hard for one to get access to a PC in Guelph in 2008 – there’s plenty at the university library – the prospect of having to get up every morning and catch a bus in order to access the almighty Internet perturbed me mightily.  At times, it was an almost unbearable inconvenience.  Indeed, this sounds melodramatic – but many of you, I’m sure, would agree.  If I feel like getting up at 4 am to re-watch Barack Obama’s inauguration speech for the 6th time, I damn well should be able to do it!

No matter how much I rely on it, though, the Internet – and, more specifically, social networking – is mostly still purely practical for me; essentially, it’s a glorified means to an end.  Not so, for the group of kids examined in the aforementioned PBS documentary: all of them admitted a certain type of psycho-social dependence on social media, and that they would be totally lost without it.  Kind of like a draft horse without a load to haul, to utilize an Aggie-inspired metaphor.  Even more alarming were the observations of a couple of the more thoughtful, perceptive interviewees that they developed alternate identities on the web, easily distinguishable from their everyday personas.  One girl, for example, described herself as “happy-go-lucky” social butterfly by day, self-degrading anorexic by night (in a depressing admission, she identified the latter as closer to who she really was). 

The development of this type of duality and disconnection scares me far more than any role that social media may plan in allurement and abduction.  As one expert points out in Growing Up Online, the vast majority of Internet-related cases of physical and sexual harm are a result of an active engagement in risky behavior on the part of adolescents themselves, and God knows that teens were putting themselves at risk far before the advent of the web.  “The Predator”, despite his universally feared status, is as much a creation of urban myth as an object of reality.  From what I can see, there’s a much greater danger of losing our children to holes dug deep inside themselves, than to some grimy back alley behind the 2-for-1 pizza joint. 

Kids are going to make bad decisions.  In most cases, they turn out “just fine”; in much rarer ones, they end up losing their lives as a result, or at least a good deal of their prospects.  Does this risk justify building walls around our loved ones - locking them into the safe "havens" that parents such as Evan Skinner (in the doc) have so lovingly and intentionally constructed (truthfully, no sarcasm there)?  I think the benefits of social media, as outlined by folks such as my Firstmedia webinar leader, are far too promising to keep from the future leaders of society.  Rather than developing introverted communities that are primarily concerned with looking after our own, we need to learn to confront the world around us, with all of its blemishes - this includes the Internet.  What we do need to ensure, however, is that our most vulnerable don't get lost in the vastness of the world during the course of the interaction, as Jamiroquai warns.  When people, including kids, lose hold of the tether of family during the spacewalk of life, they'll inevitably become lost within themselves.  

If your head was just one big eye...

...would this church square look like this?  I have no freaking clue -all I know is that this is a 360 spherical panorama, which used a "stereographic projection" to create a globe.  Pretty wild; check out more of them here.

This image, which was originally posted to Flickr, was reviewed on 31-December-2007 by the administrator or trusted user RedCoat, who confirmed that it was available on Flickr under the above license on that date

A Declaration of Dependence

Earlier today, I had a post-church discussion with my parents about the nature and origins of the concept of "nuclear family" that is so engrained in North American culture. We chatted / debated about how long fathers have been commuting from nine-to-five jobs, and how realistic Hollywood-created imagery of families playing Scrabble around the dining room table really is. Although we immediately came to a number of tentative conclusions, it just occurred to me - about nine hours later, after pacing around the fireplace, staring into it's propane-fueled flames - how central the phenomenon of independence is to the familial institution. The independence I speak of isn't that of grandiose nationalist movements; rather, it refers to the type of separation on a personal level that stems from individualism.

Allow me to unpack that a little bit. Defenders of the "traditional nuclear family" often point, rightly so, to its deep roots in Western history, and the extent to which our current economic, social, and moral frameworks rely on it. People of religious conviction commonly take this even further, by claiming that not only is the nuclear family firmly established in our cultural fabric, it's also divinely ordained. Within Christian circles, I consistently hear passages such as Genesis 2:24 cited: "For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh". I feel like the popular emphasis placed on this arrangement is greater today than ever, with nuptials being noted in discussions on topics ranging from gay marriage to successful child rearing.

It would be absurdly naive of me to contest the centrality of the nuclear family unit to Western society. On a more subjective level, I would even argue that it is, more often than not, a functional, merit-filled system. However, I also think that stressing it as an environment of paramount importance to human development - as many commentators, such as Christian fundamentalist groups, tend to do - verges on dangerous, largely because this approach is a tunnel-visioned one that neglects the importance that community plays in people's lives.

Which brings me back to the notion of "personal independence". Taken by itself, the Scripture passage that I just referenced makes it sound as if a type of schism occurs between the newlywed couple and their parents upon their marriage - similar what takes place the day a colony of a great world power gains political autonomy. However, a broader examination of the Judeo-Christian canon reveals that young families often actually remained within the community of their extended families. In other words, although they may have got their own tent (which I'm sure they appreciated!), it was pitched on the same old campsite. Far from viewing a separation from their parents as a part of the "natural cycle" or the rite of passage to adulthood, they embraced it as a setup that would allow them to develop their relationship and love for each other on an even deeper level, while also retaining close links to those with whom they were previously in closest quarters.

As a Western-born young professional, I feel that a significantly different value system is being impressed upon me. Aside from the commonly-felt economics-based pressures to "find a job and do something useful with yourself" (undoubtedly a byproduct of merit-based capitalism), I often feel the need to achieve a sort of psychological and spiritual independence from others. Although confiding in a close person, such as a good friend or family member, has remarkable immediate and long-term effects when I'm going through a rough time, I often can't help but feel as if I've become undesirably reliant on that person - exposed, vulnerable. Today, while contemplating how I'd feel if someone close to me died (don't worry, it's not a common thought process!), I even went as far as to concede that my sorrow might be somewhat alleviated by the prospect of becoming less emotionally and psychologically attached to that person. Somehow, this type of event would represent the scaling of one more cliff face on the mountain of independence, a significant victory for my individual psyche. One step closer to completing the rite of passage to self-sustainability.

Just like the newly-wedded Hebrew couple enjoys a certain degree of autonomy without considering it in itself as an end, however, I don't believe people such as me are to desire economic, psychological, or spiritual independence as an ideal. If this were so, the highest degree of human development would be characterized by a solitary, lonely existence "at the top". Although some individuals, such as the fabled Egyptian Desert Fathers of the third century, found spiritual fulfillment from long periods of solitude, this was not intended to be the standard configuration of human society as a whole. Rather, people need to live in community in order to function properly. This is in no small part due to the fact that living in community forces us to learn to depend on each other - a prospect that offends the individualistic tendencies that urge us not to rely upon assistance from a neighbor unless absolutely necessary. According to these instincts, in the rare case that we are forced to accept charity, we're to reciprocate as soon as possible, so as to avoid creating a "vicious cycle" of obligation and undesirable interaction.

People haven't been able to successfully organize themselves with this attitude as of yet, and I believe it's foolish to believe that we'll be able to in the future. In his book entitled "Reflections on Christian Leadership", Catholic priest Henri Nouwen speaks of the defining characteristic of a true leader as being the ability to humbly place oneself at the bottom of the social ladder, and rely wholly on the wisdom and goodwill of others. Personally, I don't think there's a better time than now to take this advice to heart. Perhaps we need to reconsider the universal applicability of the maxim "pulling one up by one's own bootstraps", and focus on developing communities where we pool each others' resources. I'm no socialist, and I'm not primarily talking about economic resources (although there's definitely a time and place for this). I'm speaking of spiritual and psychological capital, that embodies itself in encouraging others, and making yourself vulnerable and authentic to them.

If the current economic crisis can be viewed as something of a failure of an economic system largely rooted in individualism and personal benefit, then there's hardly a better time to acknowledge the basic fact that we need to rely on each other. Just as the 13 Colonies needed a Declaration of Independence to free themselves from the political oppression resulting from despotism in 1776, we need a Declaration of Dependence to emancipate us from the devastating forces of the individualistic psyche that exist in 2009. If we would only embrace the strength available in our neighbor, we would gain the power to overcome looming strongholds.

Past puberty, on to the kids: Obama and America's coming of age

Anyone who's graced graced a university campus, watched a Michael Moore film, or spent their fair share of time reading the work of the liberal media knows that words like "globalization", "colonization" and "imperialism" have firmly achieved buzz status. The latter two, far from being relics of bygone centuries, have undergone significant modifications that have made them relevant to contemporary issues. When people speak of McDonalds, they speak of "cultural colonialism"; ExxonMobil, "economic imperialism"; indeed, the list goes on. Usually, these words are used to describe some sort of exploitive relationship, where it's quite clear who's on the winning end, and who's being short-changed. In some cases, however, it isn't nearly this evident. The concept that I'd like to advance can't really be molded into a variation of colonialism or imperialism, since there isn't really one actor explicitly dominating another. In accordance with it's subtle nature - as well as its general ambiguity - I think it would be appropriate to deem this concept "international paternalism".

It was in a conversation over Crock-Pot pulled pork and veggie chili on Wednesday, at one of the many potlucks I've come into the habit of attending, that this topic was brought up in relation to current events. A couple of courageous pioneers had decided to venture out of the comfy utopia of Obamamanialand, and critique his inaugural address. At first, I was as shocked as anyone would have been; after all, this was the second coming of JFK they were talking about - the veritable panacea of America's ills. Although politicians rarely reach personality cult status in democratic societies like ours, Obama's got to be pretty close - for the most part, he's even escaped the prodding of the most conservative pundits. However, when I made a point of emerging from my star-struck daze, I saw that they were extracting some pretty significant tidbits from my heart-throb's speech. Specifically, the new president seemed to indicate that his country was about to take on an entirely new disposition: instead of being the world's best policeman, it would shift it's focus to being Earth's resident Dad.

Allow me to illustrate my point with what will likely turn out to be a wildly overblown analogy. When one couples the military adventures of the Bush years with levels of economic deregulation unseen since the beginning of the 20th century, the US of the first decade of the 21st could be seen as a kind of larger-than-life, teenage superstar: individualistic, unpredictable, boom-or-bust. If the world was MTV and the US was a rock star, it was Kurt Cobain in 1992. Opinions of it varied from love to despisal, but no one could deny that America was living life in the fast lane, with no intention of stopping for pedestrians (read: Frenchmen). Although it might initially be difficult to draw a parallel between a grunge rocker and a policeman (per my metaphor in the previous paragraph), keep in mind that we're not talking about your average Mountie; Chuck Norris is at the wheel of this cruiser.

Then September of 2008 hit, and Kurt OD'd. As it turns out, like an immature adolescent, a free-whelling economy can only be given so much autonomy before it starts to destroy itself. Just like in 1929 - albiet for different reasons - heaven quickly turned into hell, and America wasn't flying nearly as high as before. Although the increaing turmoil in Iraq and Afghanistan had somewhat tempered the ambition of the Lawrence of Arabia of the world order, it was the economic crash that ultimately broke the camel's back.

This disaster just happened to coincide with the culmination of a rough-and-tumble election campaign, and the appointment of a new president, Mr. Obama. In contrast to the bull-headed, no-holds-barred attitude of his predeccesor, Obama was characterized throughout his campaign and president-elect period by a more contemplated, mature, academic demeanor. Used to the chummy style of President Bush, some even described him as cold and disconnected. Despite the strong tradition of populism in American politics, however, he seemed to win over the electorate with a mix of emphasis on government accountability, "no-one-left-behind" rhetoric, and the sheer incompetence of the Bush administration. Although foreign policy was widely percieved as a weakness in his platform, when he did speak of it, he expressed a need for the US to play a less impulsive, more responsible role in the world, with much more respect for its allies and multilateralism in general. It almost seemed as if he thought his country needed to "set a good example".

As observed by my pot luck friends, this mindset came out much more explicitly in the inauguration speech. In the text account I just linked to, the BBC appropriately places the heading 'Ready to lead' on one of the sections around the middle of Obama's speech. I'm going to paste a couple lines from this section - as well as the following one, subtitled 'Era of peace' - for your examination:

"And so to all the other peoples and governments who are watching today...know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman, and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and we are ready to lead once more."

"...our power grows through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint."

"We are the keepers of this legacy [speaking of the 20th century fight against 'fascism and communism']."

"...America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace."

"...but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist [directed at aggresive nations]."

Most will recall that Bush's speeches (if you can call them that) were primarily concerned with America's security and prosperity, although justification for foreign intervention took on a markedly more "liberating" tone following the failure to discover WMD's in Iraq. Even then, if you look at Bush's 2004 address, there's much more about America walking alongside friendly nations, or giving them the opportunity to help themselves. To me, it seems as if Obama is much more assertive in identifying the direct agency of the US in areas such as nation building, human rights enforcement, and development. As I outlined earlier, after searching for a word for the tone he evokes, the best one I could come up with was "paternal". If there's one role in traditional Western society - indeed, in my own life - that could be typically described using terms such as "leading", "force of example", "tempering quality of restraint", "extending a hand", it's that of the father within the nuclear family.

I predict that in the coming months and years, America's image will subtly shift from that of the cocky, rough-and-tumble cop, to the wise, firm, responsible father figure, who is both gentle and strict. The newly apparent neccesities of economic regulation will play a big role in this shift, as will Obama's eagerness to distance himself from the previous administration's foreign policy legacy. Although it may not make an immediate entrance into undergraduate geopolitics textbooks, something along the lines of a theory of "international paternalism" will become increasingly prominent. Unlike the overtly uneven relationships described in concepts of dependency theory and economic imperialism, the embodiment of international paternalism will involve America taking a much less pronounced position of moral/ethical leadership (for example, expect Obama to push for the US' signing on to the International Criminal Court). As it's economic and military hegemony shrinks, America will begin searching for a new niche that keeps them at the top. Indeed, Obama seems to be leading the way; whether it be for it's own benefit, or out of a genuine concern for the state of the world (both are very real explanations), America isn't budging from that big fireside La-Z-Boy it's become so accustomed to. The only difference is, it's calling the kids over to sit on it's knee.

"The Nobodies" by Eduardo Galeano

"Fleas dream of buying themselves a dog, and nobodies dream of escaping poverty: that, one magical day, good luck will suddenly rain down on them - will rain down in buckets. But good luck doesn't rain down, yesterday, today, tomorrow or ever. Good luck doesn't even fall in a fine drizzle, no matter how hard the nobodies summon it, even if their left hand is tickling, or if they begin the new day on their right foot, or start the new year with a change of brooms.

The nobodies: nobody's children, owners of nothing. The nobodies: the no-ones, the nobodied, running like rabbits, dying through life, screwed every which way.

Who are not, but could be.
Who don't speak languages, but dialects.
Who don't have religions, but superstitions.
Who don't create art, but handicrafts.
Who don't have culture, but folklore.
Who are not human beings, but human resources.
Who do not have faces, but arms.
Who do not have names, but numbers.
Who do not appear in the history of the world, but in the crime reports of the local paper.
The nobodies, who are not worth the bullet that kills them. "

- Eduardo Galeano

So much is contained in those lines, that I'm already exceeding my bandwidth; hence, I'm not really going to add any insight of my own. One thing that did come to mind by the end of the poem, though, was Joseph Stalin's astute observation that "When one dies, it's a tragedy. When a million die, it's a statistic".

The nobodies may not all be dying. The sad truth is, though, that for the amount of attention we pay them, they might as well be.