Employers cherry-pick from life’s prime time because our market economy has dropped the old and the young, relegating them to the status of mothers and fathers and homemakers.
Imagine the curve of a moon, half-hidden below the horizon. On the left we rise as newborns, climbing the moon's rim, finding our gifts, the ones we are meant to leave behind. Presently the lucky will join the economy, feeding their families and keeping a roof over their heads.
But the luckiest among them are tempted to stop time. Sacrificing their connection to society and their honour, they cling to the moon's apex, cheating death. There is nothing new under the sun. In the eighth century B.C. Homer writes of Agamemnon that “. . . surely in ruinous heart he makes sacrifice and has not wit enough to look behind and before him . . .” Iliad 1. 342-3.
Because the moon is in the West. Their honour gone, the greedy sit astride a setting economy. True - the old, the young, and the less fortunate sink first, but as is increasingly evident today worldwide, the luckiest, the craftiest, and those operating on the edge of legality will not be spared. All will drown in the Pacific, off the coast of California.
“And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs – ”
Gerard Manley Hopkins: God's Grandeur
How can we make our economy rise as the sun in the East?
Imagine the curve once again. Imagine a curve that includes us all. The economy is not about the money, stupid. Money is a means of exchange, not a system. And an economy that shuts out the majority of its citizens cannot survive. The economy, our collective welfare, depends on the inclusion of our honourable work. All of our honourable work.
Imagine the weak among us, the old and the young, clinging to the curves of the heavenly orb as they near the horizon. The young have much to learn and no one to teach them. The old have come to expect a secure retirement and employers are balking. The solution is in front of us, but we are not looking.
Rather than expel these outliers from the economy because the numbers don't add up, include them. True, the old cannot work fourteen-hour days, and the young must spend more time learning than earning. But neither has to feed a family. They have to live, but in the Navajo creed it is dishonourable to desire more than you need. It is, as their elders would say, the spoiling of holy things.
Teachers and learners are vital to society, to our economy.
So let us include them, and everyone, recognizing that the strength of an economy, of a society, is in the collective gift of its peoples. We can work, now, to seventy-five and beyond in many cases, our health improved by the engagement. Older people have a perspective potentially invaluable to the young, and can do much in helping the latter realize their gifts. All we need, as outliers on both ends of the curve of life, is self-respect and a living wage. The return on investment will be beyond the wildest dreams of venture capitalists.
Let us stop dishonouring ourselves by cherry-picking. Instead let us honour ourselves and each other, fitting together as the ancients, the poets, and the native elders have taught.
The media are abuzz this week with comparisons of Occupy Wall Street and the Tea Party. Many are eager to point out similarities, particularly in the trajectories of their media coverage.
The fundamental difference between them, however, is being ignored. The Tea Party is a local phenomenon while Occupy Wall Street has become a global movement.
The Tea Party proclaims government as the one true bad guy. Reduce government and cut taxes and all will be well. Occupy Wall Street, meanwhile, is accused of having no message and no demands – no recipe for reform, no cure. The two movements are speaking different languages – and now as the cause spreads this is true literally as well.
Bill Frezza, a fellow at the Competitive Enterprise Institute, said on NPR's Morning Edition (October 4, 2011) that “business is not run for the benefit of the country.” Nor does the corporation create jobs, he said, except indirectly as a consequence of growth. In fact business regards job creation as “expense creation” and therefore something to be avoided. The segment (and transcript) are here: Venture Capitalist Warns of Job Creation Myths. This is our local, Tea Party language.
The language of the global movement has its root in humanity. It speaks in the voices of ordinary people whose gifts are unwanted by the economy. It takes as given that society would be better off if these gifts could be given.
The challenges that face humanity are larger than the individual, larger than the corporation, perhaps even larger than the United States of America. They will not be solved today, this quarter, this election cycle, or even this generation.
document.write(" serif">Will they vote? Don't count on it.
Will they work? Yes – both hard and well. But not at a job the old economy offers them.
Will they consume? Yes, but in a way designed to change and even dismantle our consumer economy.
Who are they? Privileged and poor. 18 to 40. Sons and daughters, brothers and sisters of Boomers and Gens X, Y, and Next. What distinguishes them is that they don't listen to us. They don't buy in.
When we say finish your degree or start in the mailroom they smile and say sure but they see clear-eyed what we do not: our top-heavy social structure doesn't want them.
The Ivies want super-people purpose-bred from birth. The economy wants super-people, too. Only the best will do. So either you're super or you work as an associate in soul-destroying work for less than a living wage.
They, the living middle, are having none of that.
They understand their job is to give – to do good honest work with good intention, bringing to the world the fruit of their God-given gifts.
What is their manifesto?
Let me do the work I was designed to do. Let me, as Aristotle would say, desire the right thing, and do my work well.
Whether this faltering economy offers them the opportunity to do so is a matter of indifference to them. They will make their own opportunities.
Chris this serif;">Is it reasonable to assume that one percent of humanity is worthy and the rest of us are not?
cure serif;">Can 1% move the economy ahead?
Can 1% move the world ahead?
Can 1% take care of the rest of us?
The 1% believe they are taking care of themselves. Theirs is the narrow view of the cancer cell. Their destiny is to die along with the host.
Take heart, 99%. We are humanity – let no one tell you otherwise. We will move the world ahead, and take care of each other while we do.
Will they work? Yes – both hard and well. But not at a job the old economy offers them.
Will they consume? Yes, but in a way designed to change and even dismantle our consumer economy.
Who are they? Privileged and poor. 18 to 40. Sons and daughters, brothers and sisters of Boomers and Gens X, Y, and Next. What distinguishes them is that they don't listen to us. They don't buy in.
When we say finish your degree or start in the mailroom they smile and say sure but they see clear-eyed what we do not: our top-heavy social structure doesn't want them.
The Ivies want super-people purpose-bred from birth. The economy wants super-people, too. Only the best will do. So either you're super or you work as an associate in soul-destroying work for less than a living wage.
They, the living middle, are having none of that.
They understand their job is to give – to do good honest work with good intention, bringing to the world the fruit of their God-given gifts.
What is their manifesto?
Let me do the work I was designed to do. Let me, as Aristotle would say, desire the right thing, and do my work well.
Whether this faltering economy offers them the opportunity to do so is a matter of indifference to them. They will make their own opportunities.
document.write(" serif;">Money makes money. Money in motion makes more money. Money in the mattress molds.
If you have money, you lend it so it will work and make money for you, or you buy something. Either way you take a risk. When you invest your money you balance risk against return.
That’s it. It's not rocket science.
The Street will cry in outrage, and some will be sincere. But the truth is finance is complex only in invention and obfuscation.
All “financial instruments” are a combination of buying something or lending your money. If you lend the money you expect the principal to be protected and the interest to be paid as per the contract. If you buy something you want to enjoy it or watch it appreciate – perhaps both.
But there is always a risk. Your investment can be guaranteed or insured or blue chip. It can be conservative or rock solid. That changes nothing except the odds.
We are hopeful and therein gullible. If we are offered a “financial product” we would prefer to believe that the contract conditions (that 8% interest rate, for example) are guaranteed (or one of the other adjectives above). The reality is anything can happen. Ask the states and municipalities and pension funds about their mortgage-backed securities.
Investment banks and private equity funds and hedge funds have always been about making money for number one. Since September 15, 2008, when the Lehman Brothers bankruptcy ushered in the current downturn, the line between these institutions and regular banks and money managers has blurred. It is time we made our own risk assessments.
We teach our kids to be competitive. Since we want the best for them, we put them into the best preschool we can afford, hoping to get the edge for admission into the best kindergarten. And so it goes, all the way through to university and graduate school. Sometimes it is not so much the education itself but the cachet of having the right degree that we are aiming for. For that will determine whom our child knows and what doors are open to him. Ultimately, we believe, it will determine how much money he makes.
Ours is a competitive society. We believe in hard work, pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps, personal responsibility. We believe in sports and team play. We believe we live in a meritocracy and that all this competitive striving will bring rewards. The purpose of this article is not to dispute any of this; rather it is to put it in perspective, particularly the perspective of an older person.
I am on the far side of the arc of life. I have grown up, been educated, played a part in raising a family, and retired from a job I loved. So I look at life not as future possibility or as the hectic present of job and growing family. Instead I strive to remain relevant.
Indeed, virtue is in the striving. Sports teach us to try harder and to play as a team. University teaches us to hone a critical intelligence. But what is the goal we are striving for? Winning the game? Landing the job after college?
There is only one thing wrong with these goals: they might be reached. If they have not been thought of from the start as sub-goals, stepping stones to a higher end, goals like winning the game can take on a corrosive power.
At the moment of success there is a well-earned feeling of exuberance. Like many pleasures, however, the feeling quickly fades. Too often what we learn from this experience is that we have to go on winning if we are to continue feeling good. Gradually our self-worth creeps into the equation: we are no good unless we keep winning.
The parallels to addictions of all kinds should serve as a warning. Drugs, gambling, sex, and countless other cravings have the same short arc of pleasure, the same compulsive return to the trough, the same sapping of the spirit. What, then?
There is an old Arab proverb which, robbed of its poetry, says roughly: If you strive towards a noble goal, do not be content with less than the stars/ For the life's blood you spend (on a lesser goal) will be the same life's blood you spend climbing reaching for the stars.
If what we do is to have meaning, we must work for a purpose larger than ourselves. The work begins in elementary school and before, where we learn that we are not the center of the universe and that we must respect the dignity of others. Later we learn that as a team we can achieve more. In these endeavors there is always a currency. We play as a team to win games. We work as a team to make money. Our progress toward (or away from) the regional championship or the Fortune 500 is measured by games won or by net worth.
Where we can go astray is in becoming distracted by the currency. Winning games or making money become goals in themselves. We forfeit our honor and sometimes our soul.
The legend of Arthur bears heavily on this issue. He becomes King not because of superior prowess as a knight but because he is the only one who can pull the sword from the stone. He is born of a loveless union and dies at the hand of his son, born of another loveless and deceitful union with his half-sister. He is betrayed in his own love by his best friend and most trusted knight.
But Arthur understands that it is his destiny to lead. He comes to understand that he will suffer and not know many of the comforts of being human. The Holy Grail he seeks is, in the end, nothing more or less than being true to his work.
There, in essence, is the challenge that faces us. Will we know, at the hour of our death, that we have done the best we can with the gifts we have been given? That we have been true to our work?
The temptations will always be with us. To seek pleasure and avoid pain. To win at any cost. To believe, because we are in a meritocracy and we have made money, that we are better than our fellows.
But in the end nobody is fooled, not even ourselves. Our goal cannot be simply the best outcome for me. We must aim higher than that. We must not fail to give back to humanity the unique and precious gift that each of us has been given.
Is there a social, political, or economic system which makes this more likely? Probably not. But as individuals we can set ourselves noble goals and live a life of honor.
I am a pilot. I am lucky to have retired without incident from a career at an airline. Flying is still in my bones.
Mine is an apprenticeship trade. You can’t learn it in a classroom or by reading a book, although both help. You have to get your hands on an airplane.
Most trades are like mine. It takes constant study to stay current in the field. The reference books, software, and reams of data relevant to the job are huge and growing. But the essential learning, the learning that serves as backbone and basis for all the stuff in the reference books, is hands-on experience taught by a mentor and teacher. In turn you should pass this knowledge on to the next generation.
Tradespeople are no better and no worse than others. The majority of them like going to work and doing the the best job they can. There is satisfaction in building something or in accomplishing a mission. You can look back and say, I built that, or I did that.
But like rule of law or paying taxes, plying a trade with skill and devotion is a social contract. Protect me from lawbreakers, ensure others pay their fair share. Give me a living wage so I can support a family, and respect my work for what it is.
Nor are we tradespeople to be divided from business people, put in a separate category. On the contrary most small businesses are founded and powered by tradespeople, be they plumbers, machinists or software engineers with ideas. Entrepreneurship and the trades are interdependent and have been since the days of the guilds. Perhaps what we are less compatible with is management.
Hubris
I was lucky also to have spent most of a decade flying and teaching on Airbus aircraft. The design of the A320 is revolutionary, extraordinary, and even beautiful. She never failed to delight me (like mariners, I thought of my ship as a person, a female) and she remains one of the loves of my life.
But she is not perfect. Call it my fallacy of anthropomorphism if you will, but I believe that a man-made object cannot be more perfect that the sum of its creators. It can be outstanding, it can be beautiful, but it cannot be perfect. Lovely as she is, my Airbus is no exception. She has her faults.
Her qualities have been called to review by two recent events with very different outcomes: Chesley Sullenberger's heroic handling of a ditching in the Hudson River, and the crash of an A330 in the Atlantic Ocean with the loss of all on board.
All airplanes have what is called an envelope. Fly faster than Va (maneuvering speed) and turbulence or rough handling can result in damage to the airframe. Fly slower than Vs (stall) and the wing can no longer generate enough lift to hold the airplane up. Fly faster than Vd (dive speed) and all manner of bad things can happen, from Mach tuck to control flutter to loss of control. The technicalities of the flight envelope can fill a book and have, many times over. The parameters include aircraft weight, air density (altitude, temperature) and G loading. But the bottom line is that it is the pilot's responsibility to keep the airplane in the envelope, to fly it as it was designed to be flown.
Bernard Ziegler had a different idea.
He was my love's Daddy. You see him in her everywhere you look. She is beautiful, intelligent, accomplished, and refined. She is uncompromising. She is very French.
She has an envelope like any other airplane. She flies with the same aerodynamics as they do. But her Daddy added a new feature to her design: envelope protection.
With the A320 and subsequent models, the pilot cannot “push the envelope”. He can push or pull as much as he wants and she will go to the edge, but not over the cliff. She is impossible to stall.
As long as she is in NORMAL LAW.
Her fly-by-wire control system is impressive in the extreme. There have been no known failures in service. But like us she depends on sensors, eyes and ears. And of course electricity to power her hundreds of computers. Starve her, blind her, or deafen her and you are asking for trouble. Chesley Sullenberger understood her. His first act was to reach up and start the Auxiliary Power Unit. This one strategic move kept power on the aircraft busses as Jeffrey Skiles, the First Officer, went through the engine restart drills. This one strategic move kept her in Normal Law until touchdown.
AF447 was approaching the Intertropical Convergence Zone, the ITCZ, the doldrums. It was night and as usual there was a long line of thunderstorms in the Zone, crossing their track obliquely. The Captain had just left the Flight Deck for his planned rest. The most junior pilot – the relief pilot – was in the left seat flying the aircraft.
Ahead of them a small storm was showing on the radar. Despite its size it was dense enough to reflect all of the energy from their radar. The result – a well-documented phenomenon called attenuation or blanking – was that a gap appeared in the line behind the small storm. AF447 flew around the corner and suddenly the gap was gone. They were plowing into the main line of thunderstorms.
Supercooled water is unusual at FL350 but not unusual in thunderstorms. Drops of supercooled water freeze instantly when disturbed – as for example by a fast-moving aircraft. The temperature that night was an unusually warm minus 40 C., just warm enough to keep the drops from freezing and cold enough so the heating elements in the A330's pitot probes were not powerful enough to keep the probes open. All three pitots were temporarily blocked, cutting off all airspeed information.
She was blind and deaf. Panicked, she shut down her envelope protection and called out to her pilots for help, shutting down the autopilot and autothrust and reverting to Pitch Alternate Roll Direct Law. Visual and aural warnings cascaded across the ECAM and into the speakers. Beautifully designed and prioritized for foreseeable failures, the warnings that night became a powerful distraction, demanding the pilots' attention at just the moment they needed to ignore her.
She was squealing like a stuck pig. If the pilots could have read her right that night, what they would have heard was, I'm gone, guys. I'm outta here. You have control.
Blind, deaf, and still squealing, the A330 handed control to the relief pilot. He pulled back on the sidestick. She zoomed upwards, climbing to FL380 at 7000 feet per minute, rapidly losing energy, her angle of attack increasing toward the stall. In Pitch Alternate Roll Direct Law the pilot's back pressure on the sidestick was also moving the powerful Trimmable Horizontal Stabilizer, moving it slowly to full nose-up, effectively locking them into the stall that would follow momentarily.
Today David Learmount of Flight Global posted a blog titled Being an airline pilot is “A profession in decline”. Is it really? He quotes from William Langewiesche's book Fly by Wire, citing Langewiesche's admiration for Bernard Ziegler and the Airbus and his ambivalent attitude toward airline pilots. I will add another quote from the book:
“What did Ziegler want? He wanted to build an airplane that could not be stalled – not once, not ever – by any pilot at the controls.”
She fell flat, nose and wings level with the horizon, falling not flying, her angle of attack near ninety degrees, her rate of descent 10,000 feet per minute. Four minutes later she hit the water.
Nemesis and Lesson
Here is another quote from Fly by Wire:
“If you design airplanes for (airline pilots) to fly, you must grapple with not only with the existence of a few who are incompetent from the start, but also with the fact that plenty of once-excellent pilots grow unsafe with time. They become arrogant, bored, or complacent. They drink, they fade, they erode.”
Bernard Ziegler is (was) a brilliant test pilot and engineer. (Like me, he is getting older.) He knew that he was on the far right flare of the bell curve. He knew (as do we all) some examples from the left rim of the bell.
I am from somewhere in the middle of the curve. I was lucky, worked hard to maintain my competence, and survived my job. I don't dispute the factuality of the above quote. But I would add a caution:
Underestimate a tradesperson at your own risk.
Chesley Sullenberger knew his airplane, respected her and treated her like an equal. He expected Jeffrey Skiles to act professionally and he did. He was proud of his profession, his trade. That was his true achievement. The successful ditching followed from it, a corollary.
“Airline flying is just money for old rope most of the time . . .”
He recognizes, as pilots say, that flying is hours of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror.
But he also points out the need for training of the highest quality. That designing an airplane that is capable of landing safely with half its engines failed is of no use if you haven't trained the pilots to do the maneuver. If you haven't given them the confidence that they can.
So pilots: know your airplane. Treat her and your fellow-pilots well. Expect the best from them.
And to everyone, especially homeowners: respect tradespeople. Search out those who are proud of their work. Especially if you're looking for a roofer.
