"You have not converted a man because you have silenced him."

-John Morley

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Does capitalism need democracy?

For the longest time it was believed that capitalism and democracy went hand in hand, but now the Chinese and the Vietnamese have thrown a wrench into the works and shown that our belief might be nothing more than an assumption. On what do we base our assumption that one needs the other?

Political scientists argue that capitalism needs the strong institutes that are inherent in a democratic model. Without a good and independent rule of law, for instance, it is very hard to protect yourself from cheating and theft. When you can’t protect your interest from illegal activities, the argument goes, you can’t have trust and when you can’t have trust capitalism doesn’t work. After all, all capitalist interactions are based on ‘contracts’.

Take money and property, for instance. Money is a contract with everybody else that your work has some sort of numerical value, which other people will then accept in exchange for their own work. Money is no longer even weighed against anything, relying instead on the assumption that the government will only print a finite amount of it, with its finite nature making it valuable. In other words, money only works because we trust that it does.

Property, on the other hand, makes the basic assumption that something can actually be owned solely by one individual and that others will respect that ownership. If we doubted each other and the government’s will and ability to enforce that ownership, then we certainly wouldn’t want to buy property and without property there really can’t be any large scale productivity (e.g. no factories.) Again, that is a trust principle.

So I don’t have a problem with trust being essential for capitalism, what I have trouble with is the implicit assumption that democracy is the only system that can provide these institutes. Where does that assumption come from? Why can’t a dictatorship provide a good rule of law? Yes, if he is an absolute ruler and doesn’t allow any independent institute to exist outside of his own rule, then it will be extremely difficult to build up the necessary levels of trust, but why can’t there be a limited dictatorship, where a court of law is charged with the task of defending capitalism as well as the dictatorship?

In fact, it seems to me that if you want to create a true capitalist model it might even be better not to be democratic, as the People are often anti-capitalist, but some other sort of government that springs forth from the capitalist model (maybe a bidding system for roles in government, with these positions and the governmental model protected by independent institutes?)

I’m not saying that that is a desirable governmental model, mind you, I’m just saying that the implicit assumption that has been made that for capitalism we need democracy needs to be rethought. Capitalism can exist without democracy and in all likelihood democracy can exist without capitalism as well. Whether that is desirable is a different question, entirely.

To Pyrrhus

I had to think long and hard about whether I should respond to the comment that Pyrrhus left on my blog a few days ago. I was left wondering if it would actually serve any purpose. I still felt I owed it to him, though, so for what it's worth here I go.

First off, you can't kill all the terrorists. I'm sure the army has tried everything in its power to kill them, but so far it hasn't been very effective. By the last count Al Quada was actually recovering a great deal of its strength, something that greatly worried the American intelligence services (as well as everybody else, of course).

I've tried explaining this before, but it seems to be something that needs re-explaining. There are not a fixed number of terrorists. Their numbers grow and shrink, depending on what's happening in world politics and other areas. A botched military operation that is meant to kill terrorists will instead create more as formerly innocent civilians rise up in revenge for being wronged. The feeling that their way of life is being threatened by outside forces (such as, for example, the perceived invasion of one of their countries and a 'war' on their religion) will galvanize thousands, if not millions, and make them become freedom fighters and terrorists.

In order to make it easier to understand, imagine if a state in the US was invaded by some superior power (aliens?) millions of Americans would flood into the army and, if the army was shattered, into freedom fighter cells, flooding from all over the country to help fellow Americans who are in trouble. Some would simply fight with guns and and bullets, others would try politics and a limited few true extremists might resort to extreme forms of violence, be it biological warfare, sabotage or yes, terrorism. The more you radicalise a population, the more moderates will slowly be pushed into this extremist group.

The invasion of Iraq served exactly that purpose in the Muslim world. It doesn't matter whether the war was justified (I still don't believe it was), what matters is whether they see it as justified. Obviously, they don't.

Iraq has become a banner for extremists and a training ground for new recruits. Once the war is over many of those youths might lay down there arms, but a sizable minority, having tasted blood, will probably want to strike out at the west elsewhere. These people will be many times more dangerous then they would have been as raw recruits (forgetting, for the moment, that most of them might well never have been recruited).

Another mistake you make is assume that all the terrorists are being drawn into Iraq. Some are, no doubt, but a sizable group has no means to go to, or true affinity with Iraq and are forced to, or would rather fight the war elsewhere. They see the invasion of Iraq as just another example of the west trying to destroy their way of life. As a result they will lash out at it in their own country, or somewhere where they see the west as weak and vulnerable.

They do not succeed often, but what they do succeed in doing is making our lives less free. I feel that that is a terrible price to pay. Here you also make a fallacy, suggesting that if my dad is allowed to take his pen on the plane (or rather, if we're allowed to bring fluids aboard) then that will mean we have to wrestle terrorists to the ground. Is that really true? The government says it is, but they might be more concerned with not losing votes (which would happen if a plane was detonated in the sky) and appearing to be tough on terrorism (which might win them votes) than with the actual probability of a fluid bomb being successful. We don't know the chances of a plane being blown up by a liquid bomb, they didn't tell us. The chance might be incredibly low, but they might not want to run that incredibly low risk because it might cost them their power.

As for your profiling, It is already happening. So many of my Muslim and dark skinned non-Muslim friends have been harassed by custom officials and others, even though they are innocent. Do you know what that leads to? Resentment and dislike. Many of them, who felt a great deal of sympathy for the US after 911, now have a serious dislike for all things American. They feel they are the target or discrimination and racism and they respond in the same way.

I think back at all the good will the rest of the world felt towards the US had after 911 and then I think about how it was squandered by misguided policies and reality ignoring ideas and it really sucks the life out of me. It is such a shame. It could have been used to unify and instead it led to such division and strife.

Of course, none of this will probably convince you a great deal, so let me finish with this: You should try coming out here for a while, so that you can make up your own mind, rather than getting it all second hand from commentators and critics at home. The world outside America (and Europe) is a great deal different than you think.

What we do

My parents are travelling to Europe tonight and my dad was worried he couldn’t take his pen. ‘Ink is a fluid’ he pointed out. Now, it doesn’t really matter whether he was allowed to take his pen (he was), what gets me is that people have to actually consider whether they’re allowed to take writing utensils with them. Where will it end? What if some terrorist manages to develop exploding cloth, do we then all have to travel naked?

Why are governments allowing terrorists to have such an impact on the world? Doesn’t anybody at the top ever wonder how a handful of people can so drastically influence and inconvenience millions? The reason those terrorists are so effective is because people care far too much about them.

Terrorists don’t even have to blow anything up anymore. They just have to threaten to blow something up and people go scurrying around making life difficult for each other.

Like the tantrum throwing toddler the terrorists throws a fit and the people around him react and, again like the tantrum throwing toddler, when the terrorists sees that it’s working his tantrums become bigger and more frequent. What is more, others around him go ‘hey, that works!’ and hey presto the kinder garden teach is found overdosed on sleeping pills with his last words written across the wall in coloured crayons ‘the little shits wouldn’t shut up’.

Terrorists are just like franchises and, just like other franchises, if they don’t get what they want they won’t open up more shops. McDonalds wouldn’t be found all around the world if people didn’t eat the bloody burgers, Starbucks wouldn’t be on every corner if people didn’t drink their over priced coffee and terrorists wouldn’t be blowing themselves up everywhere if they didn’t believe they were terrorising the shit out of everybody.

So what do we do?

We stop being so scared and we stop giving them so much attention. We hope that as many attacks as possible are stopped and when the attacks do happen we don’t go hysterical. We show them that we can’t be intimidated and that we won’t sacrifice our freedoms or way of life for their warped ideologies. We persevere and show them we’re tougher than they give us credit for. We accept that one day we all run out of time and, whether it’s in a bed with cancer, or in an airplane with a bomb, we realise that it’s not really that moment that matters, but all the moments that came before. I refuse to let them ruin those moments, what about you?

Courtship

They circle each other, he strutting and showing his impressive plumage, his eyes, strong broad chest and his Rolex, while she plays the coy game, giving him just enough rope to hang himself, hiding behind her locks of hair, while still showing him enough signals to keep him interested, flashing him a wrist, for instance, as she smokes her cigarette.

Their squeaks and warbles fill the air, barely audible over the tones of the synthesized sounds that give them a shield of misunderstanding and miscomprehension to hide behind, in case either of them is only physically interesting.

The sounds are just cover anyway, while the courtship dance takes place. How ever much they might think otherwise, it often doesn’t really matter what is said, or whose names are remembered. It is more about the steps in their intuitive chess game, played on the board of their bodies, with its set moves and rules, unwritten but still set in stone.

And I’m so tired of it, these games, these puzzles, these tests. Why does it always have to be the same game? Why does it always have to be the same steps? Why can’t it just be different for once?

It must be possible to sidestep the normal sequence of events and – through one action, one question or one thought – send that encounter spinning in a completely new direction, where it might be out of control, but also more intriguing.

It must he possible to do it all differently. There must be a way to be of greater value to each other. I pray that I find it, because otherwise I must either stick to the steps of the courtship dance, or not dance all together. I actually do like dancing, but I just prefer my own tune.

The Waiting Game

I seem to be spending my life waiting for something. Waiting to leave Singapore, waiting to earn enough money so that I can actually leave, waiting for somebody to realise my value and offer me something better, waiting for people to e-mail or sms me back, waiting for the bell to ring so that I can get out of class, waiting for eight thirty so that I can go home, waiting for my break, waiting, waiting, waiting.

I can’t imagine that it’s the same for everybody. I believe that there are going to be plenty of people out there who aren’t waiting for anything and, instead, would like the world to wait and let them catch up.

Is it my fault that I’m spending so much time waiting? Am I doing something wrong? Should I be approaching life differently? It doesn’t feel right to me. It feels like when I’m waiting for something I’m really missing an opportunity to do something else, which makes me feel guilty.

I can tell you, it’s no fun feeling guilty and not quite knowing why. On the other hand, they do say ‘when you feel guilty, you have nothing to worry about; it’s when you stop feeling guilty that you should start worrying’.

Maybe the guilt has a purpose and, while we're at it, maybe the waiting does too.

A life less ordinary

Some recent events have made me seriously question myself. A few years ago I used to have quite a few friends. People would contact us (my girlfriend and me) regularly and we would always be invited out to parties, occasions and events.

Slowly that grew less, though, with less and less people inviting us places. When I broke up with my girlfriend a few months ago, the occasional message from those old friends that used to come no longer did, though according to her plenty of our old friends are still contacting her, even if not always with the best intentions.

I can’t blame them. At least they were polite enough to wait till our relationship was over, before they started pursuing her. What does hurt, however, is the feeling that maybe these people never really saw me as their friend. I can’t help but wonder if, really, they were just interested in my girlfriend and I was just the unfortunate hanger on, an obstacle that had to be out waited.

Was I just ‘the boyfriend’ and nothing more?

Until recently I used to think I had a way with people. I believed I was likeable and that people wanted to be around me. Don’t get me wrong, I have good friends, but not quite as many as I would expect if I was as good with people as I believed I was.

Here in Singapore I think I have only three good friends and maybe a handful of good acquaintances that I have regular contact with. For the rest I am an unknown and my presence would not be terribly missed.

I guess I am just not as memorable as I would like, or if I am, then I certainly didn’t use to be. Of course, ultimately the only thing for it is to accept it, or to change it. I just hope I can change it, because the thought of just being ordinary in other people’s eyes is unbearable.

The Discriminating Citizen

I don’t think as things stand right now that we’ll ever rid ourselves as a species of discrimination. Why? Because the more I read, the more and more convinced I become that discrimination is genetic. It has been written into our very code, along with our drive for procreation and our fight or flight instinct. It is a remnant from our distant past that still very much haunts us today.

‘I’m not racist’ some of you are probably saying right now and though that is probably disputable (we try not to be racist, but I think it is very difficult to not be racist at all) it’s beside the point. After all, some of us choose not to procreate and other choose not to fight or run, but as a whole species the greater majority still does. We’re not just racist as individuals; we’re racist as a species. If you don’t believe that, then just look at how badly we treat the other species on this mud ball.

It’s natural (read: nature has installed it in us) to be afraid of the unfamiliar. After all, in the tooth and claw world the unfamiliar is generally dangerous and very likely competing for the same resources as we are. What is more, the unfamiliar generally shares a great deal less genetic code with us than the familiar does.

Now, of course, we seem to have partially evolved past our genes (look into meme theory if you’re interested in that). Because of that we’ve become aware of our discrimination and it has become possible for some of us to choose to ignore or reframe our instincts, but that is certainly not the same as eliminating the problem. Discrimination is still our initial reaction and often it is so subtle that we hardly even notice ourselves doing it.

For example, in a job interview a person of your own race walks in and you greet them warmly and, as normally happens when you greet somebody warmly, he responds warmly. Immediately a positive rapport is established between you and that makes you think better of that individual. Then a person of a different race comes in, one you’ve had little contact with. You try to behave the same, but because of your innate discrimination you start out just a little less warmly. The other person notices this slight hesitation and, though he might not ascribe it to racism, responds at the same level. The interview naturally doesn’t go quite as well. All things being equal, it would be natural for you to choose the first person, all the while convinced that no discrimination took place.

What can we do about it? Well as individuals, being aware of it helps a great deal, as we can then consider it in our choices and actions. As a race? It would be nice to think that this type of discrimination might one day evolve out of us and it well might, but unfortunately evolution is a very slow process and our lives will have finished ten times over before that happens. We might want to think of something slightly faster than that.

"Insanity:

doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."
-Einstein

Somehow I've been thinking a great deal about this quote and it has rung true. It's left me to wonder, am I doing the same thing over and over again? Am I stuck in a cycle of repetition, believing that somehow it will all change for me? Am I actually evolving and improving, or am I just repeating the same general themes in my life?

Somebody else, I don't know who anymore, said that life will continue to throw the same lesson at you until you've learned it. That's played through my head as well, am I learning the lessons from life that I should? I would like to think so, but 'would like' is an interesting grammatical construction, in that it suggests that it might well not be so.

On the other hand, i feel that the only way that you can continue learning is through self doubt. The moment you believe that you have everything by the right end, you stop looking for new ends to try out. So, the question becomes, is this all part of my learning process, or am I stuck in an unproductive cycle that appears progressive but is really just repetitive?

Stress free? No thanks!

It’s kind of funny, how people talk about stress. They talk about how terrible it is and how wonderful it would be if their lives were stress free. If their lives were stress free, they say, they would live longer as well as live easier, they would be able to relax and not worry and they would be able to do the things they wanted to.

And they would be right to say all of those things, but I guarantee you one thing, they’d also be bored to tears.

Stress is an essential part of our lives and it is actually, in many ways, a good thing. It helps us focus, helps us concentrate and helps us perform. We feel slight levels of stress every time we are asked to perform at work, at home, or even during games and let’s be honest about it, we enjoy it!

Stress accompanies challenge and we all need to be challenged. If we didn’t we wouldn’t like game shows, competitions, or seek career advancement. If there was no longer any challenge in our lives, I think many of us would go insane from boredom. I know I would.

Of course, too much stress is a bad thing, but that isn’t anything new. We all know that moderation is the key (though it seems we all enjoy excess). Too much sex, chocolate, water or food will shorten our live spans drastically and it’s the same with too much stress.

We’ve turned stress into the modern boogey man, when in truth it has always been a useful tool. I, for one, won’t be part of that anymore and welcome stress, and the accompanying excitement, into my life. After all, without stress life might be long, but it won’t be worth living.

What is missing

Forgive me for flogging a dead horse, but my trip to Vietnam has made it even clearer to me what it is that Is missing in Singapore. It is such a shame, too. Singapore is such an amazing place in so many ways. The Singaporeans have done a fantastic job of making the island livable, safe and secure. Almost everything is here; including convenience, safety, opportunity, technology, predictability, etc. The one thing that is missing, however, is excitement.

The funny thing is I think the government is aware of it. They try in so many ways to bring excitement here. They are building the integrated resorts, they are trying to develop street culture, they are upgrading areas to make them more livable and interesting (according to them, anyway), but despite all they do they can’t seem to bring excitement to the island.

‘Yes, but what is excitement?’ I hear you ask. That’s a good question and a hard one, at that. That’s probably why it has been so hard for Singapore to capture it. I’m not sure I can fully explain it either, but what I can say is this: excitement needs risk. Without risk, or at least perceived risk, there is no excitement.

That’s why rollercoaster rides and horror movies are exciting. We perceive danger and it speeds up our heart rates, sharpens our senses and generally makes us feel more alive. This was a daily phenomenon when we were still living in the bush, clubbing animals (including each other) over the head, but it is rare now and so we search for it.

The Singapore government doesn’t like risk, it thinks it is undesirable. Like the ultimate nanny state, the Singapore government makes certain that its citizens’ lives are as risk free as possible. This is great if you want to live a long life, raise your children, not worry about things and are generally content with the status quo (which seems to be the majority of humanity), but if you’re one of those people who needs excitement born out of real risk, well then chances are Singapore isn’t the right place for you.

That would be fine, if it weren’t that those people that need that risk are ultimately essential for a country. Risk takers are those people who make things happen and create new opportunities for a country. It’s the entrepreneurs, the artists, the investors, the creatives, the activists and, yes, the criminals that need that excitement and when it isn’t there, they will leave.

Don’t get me wrong, they won’t leave immediately. They will stay for a time, try to make their money and get their kicks, but the majority just won’t stay for ever. They will go elsewhere, where they feel more at home. Thus a society is created where the risk takers are always transitional and moving on. Risk takers that come in leave, while people that born here are less prone to take risk as a whole.

A country can’t be run on nine to fivers alone. People are needed who are willing to risk to get what they want and as long as there is no excitement, those people won’t stay.

By the sound of Worship

In the hall they gather; robed in purity, concealing their sins. It’s not really that I believe true evil, but then I don’t believe any of us are truly good, either. What’s the point of an arrow if you fire it the wrong way around? When the colonist showed the old fat Buddha the mirror, the Buddha was delighted as he hadn’t seen his own penis in years. Sad to say, it hadn’t grown as fat as him.

Straight backed they listened to his words as he slowly suffocated. The intention, he explained, is separate from the act. When just the act is observed, then the moral judgment will be different from when the intention is understood. Understanding, they answered, isn’t everything.

Nothing ever is. Life is a fusion, a combination lock, a rubix cube in four dimensions (or is it more?). Purity is as pointless as it is un-adaptive. It is only mixed tinctures of many ingredients that can cure the ailments of the soul. Complexity requires complexity.

The Size of the Bureaucracy is being expanded to deal with the expanding size of the Bureaucracy.

She whispered thoughts tickle my mind, as fantasy and dreams crowd out time spent on more practical things. Instead I sit and watch the world role by, one wave at a time. Let me out! Let me out! There isn’t enough space in here! I’m suffocating on my own thoughts!

Chaos flapped its fragile wings and the world destroyed itself, oblivion loves these ironies, it makes him giggle like a school girl. Once he even blew milk out of his nose when we caught him by surprise with the eradication of an infinity.

Oh, those good old days, when infinity was insignificant, we popped bottled paradox and partied till dawn. There was a tree I got to know, its hard bark hiding its true feelings. When it died, we burned it and ate marshmallows over its ashes.

That’s all done, now. His flame died. Now I’m waiting for my turn.

End Day

Today is the last day in Saigon and already nostalgia is setting in. It isn’t even over yet and in many ways it will probably be a good thing that it is over tomorrow (for our sanity, for one thing), but still there are already doubts creeping in. Did we spend our vacation the best we could? Did we make good use of our time? Will I regret doing anything or, more importantly, not doing anything? Am I satisfied? Was I hoping for something different?

Ironically, the answers to all those questions seems to be ‘yes’. For us this was the best way to spend the vacation, we got to recover and recuperate and yet go crazy. There will absolutely be things that I regret not doing, but that is the nature of a short holiday, there will always be things you wish you would have done, how ever much you do. I am largely satisfied, though, and that is important. Especially, since I’m planning to head off on a long backpacking trip in a few months time. I was also hoping for something different, but that’s the danger with expectations anyway, they almost inevitably end up being disappointed.

One of my mates put it well, when he said he wasn’t disappointed with how short the trip was, because he was going to come back anyway. I think I’ll do the same, though it might be a few years away. I think I wouldn’t mind living here for a while. Not too long, but for a while. Vietnam is both an exciting and a liveable city. It isn’t easy, but then easy gets boring really fast.

I feel that Vietnam is more a land of opportunity then many of the other South East Asian countries. They are disciplined enough to make the most of the capitalist mechanism, while being independent enough to have creative thoughts and political opinions. They are also generally nice and that isn’t something that can be said about every country in Asia.

Yeah, when I come back from Europe, Vietnam is definitely one of the strong contenders for where I’d like to move to. A list that is currently very short. I hope I’ll find more places to add to it.

A week in Vietnam

We’ve just come back to Saigon from a trip out into the outskirts. We spent three nights away, staying in two towns that saw few foreign tourists. It was a different world. We were followed by open stares, not of hostility but of friendliness and/ or curiosity. We were invited to sit with a group of people as they celebrated a whole host of things, including a birthday, a holiday life and having three foreigners join them for celebrations, something they really seemed to dig.

We drank the local moonshine. It tasted something like vodka and gasoline. We got immensely drunk off of it. We danced, laughed and sang songs in pygmy Vietnamese. A tooth was chipped and contacts were lost, but sometimes things have to be sacrificed in the name of fun and experiencing the bizarre. Talking about bizarre, we were offered a dish of dog. The smell was rather offensive, but the meat actually didn’t taste that bad, if you could get past the fact that you were eating dog. Something we couldn’t, really.

The necessary eating dog jokes followed to help us deal with, well, having just eaten dog.

Right now we’re sitting in a hotel room, on the fifth floor of a hotel with no elevator. Good exercise, but a bitch if you forget something and you only realise when you’re on the street. From our balcony we can look into a temple, where Vietnamese people are chanting in white robes. It’s a fantastic sound. Earlier we got to see a bell ringing ceremony from our balcony, as well.

To some extent we’re slowly starting to figure these people out. They are very complex and emotionally charged. I think they’re actually pretty cool. I’ll probably be going to India on my trip, though.