the problem doesn't need more living-room opinions of which people are more likely rapists and/or what a woman's responsibility is to her own safety. so plain and simple I found some statistics,
http://ncrb.nic.in/CD-CII2013/CII13-TABLES/Table%205.2.pdf
and there's more here in the Tables of 'crimes against women'.
http://ncrb.nic.in/
I do understand there are biases due to under-reporting and that those may be skewed in some regions. Till more data and evidence..
Saturday, February 28, 2015
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
philosophy, psychology, economics, ...
I've just started reading Adam Smith's 'Theory of Moral Sentiments' (led to it by Vernon Smith's podcast on econtalk, of course), and I don't know what I'd expected from it, but I am surprised. to think that he wrote this in 1759. phew. its pretty spot on, and I'm just in the first few pages. and although the language is a little rambling, such that I have to reread some sentences and add some imaginary punctuation or remove some unnecessary ones, he does a beautiful job of expression. so here's an excerpt from somewhere in the beginning of the book where he's talking about judgment and empathy although the word 'empathy' did not exist then.
".... it is always disagreeable to feel that we cannot sympathize with him, and instead of being pleased with this exemption from sympathetic pain, it hurts us to find that we cannot share his uneasiness. If we hear a person loudly lamenting his misfortunes, which, however, upon bringing the case home to ourselves, we feel, can produce no such violent effect upon us, we are shocked at his grief; and, because we cannot enter into it, call it pusillanimity and weakness. It gives us the spleen, on the other hand, to see another too happy or too much elevated, as we call it, with any little piece of good fortune. We are disobliged even with his joy; and, because we cannot go along with it, call it levity and folly. We are even put out of humour if our companion laughs louder or longer at a joke than we think it deserves; that is, than we feel that ourselves could laugh at it.
When the original passions of the person principally concerned are in perfect concord with the sympathetic emotions of the spectator, they necessarily appear to this last just and proper, and suitable to their objects; and, on the contrary, when, on the bringing the case home to himself, he finds that they do not coincide with what he feels, they necessarily appear to him unjust and improper, and unsuitable to the causes which excite them. To approve of the passions of another, therefore, as suitable to their objects, is the same thing as to observe that we entirely sympathize with them; and not to approve of them as such, is the same thing as to observe that we do not entirely sympathize with them. The man who resents the injuries that have been done to me, and observes that I resent them precisely as he does, necessarily approves of my resentment. The man whose sympathy keeps time to my grief, cannot but admit the reasonableness of my sorrow. He who admires the same poem, or the same picture, and admires them exactly as I do, must surely allow the justness of my admiration. He who laughs at the same joke, and laughs along with me, cannot well deny the propriety of my laughter. On the contrary, the person who, upon these different occasions, either feels no such emotion as that which I feel, or feels none that bears any proportion to mine, cannot avoid disapproving my sentiments on account of their dissonance with his own. If my animosity goes beyond what the indignation of my friend can correspond to; if my grief exceeds what his most tender compassion can go along with; if my admiration is either too high or too low to tally with his own; if I laugh loud and heartily when he only smiles, or on the contrary, only smile when he laughs loud and heartily; in all these cases, as soon as he comes from considering the object, to observe how I am affected by it, according as there is more or less disproportion between his sentiments and mine, I must incur a greater or less degree of his disapprobation: and upon all occasions his own sentiments are the standards and measures by which he judges of mine.
To approve of another man's opinions is to adopt those opinions, and to adopt them is to approve of them. If the same arguments which convince you convince me likewise, I necessarily approve of your conviction; and if they do not, I necessarily disapprove of it: neither can I possibly conceive that I should do the one without the other. ...."
".... it is always disagreeable to feel that we cannot sympathize with him, and instead of being pleased with this exemption from sympathetic pain, it hurts us to find that we cannot share his uneasiness. If we hear a person loudly lamenting his misfortunes, which, however, upon bringing the case home to ourselves, we feel, can produce no such violent effect upon us, we are shocked at his grief; and, because we cannot enter into it, call it pusillanimity and weakness. It gives us the spleen, on the other hand, to see another too happy or too much elevated, as we call it, with any little piece of good fortune. We are disobliged even with his joy; and, because we cannot go along with it, call it levity and folly. We are even put out of humour if our companion laughs louder or longer at a joke than we think it deserves; that is, than we feel that ourselves could laugh at it.
When the original passions of the person principally concerned are in perfect concord with the sympathetic emotions of the spectator, they necessarily appear to this last just and proper, and suitable to their objects; and, on the contrary, when, on the bringing the case home to himself, he finds that they do not coincide with what he feels, they necessarily appear to him unjust and improper, and unsuitable to the causes which excite them. To approve of the passions of another, therefore, as suitable to their objects, is the same thing as to observe that we entirely sympathize with them; and not to approve of them as such, is the same thing as to observe that we do not entirely sympathize with them. The man who resents the injuries that have been done to me, and observes that I resent them precisely as he does, necessarily approves of my resentment. The man whose sympathy keeps time to my grief, cannot but admit the reasonableness of my sorrow. He who admires the same poem, or the same picture, and admires them exactly as I do, must surely allow the justness of my admiration. He who laughs at the same joke, and laughs along with me, cannot well deny the propriety of my laughter. On the contrary, the person who, upon these different occasions, either feels no such emotion as that which I feel, or feels none that bears any proportion to mine, cannot avoid disapproving my sentiments on account of their dissonance with his own. If my animosity goes beyond what the indignation of my friend can correspond to; if my grief exceeds what his most tender compassion can go along with; if my admiration is either too high or too low to tally with his own; if I laugh loud and heartily when he only smiles, or on the contrary, only smile when he laughs loud and heartily; in all these cases, as soon as he comes from considering the object, to observe how I am affected by it, according as there is more or less disproportion between his sentiments and mine, I must incur a greater or less degree of his disapprobation: and upon all occasions his own sentiments are the standards and measures by which he judges of mine.
To approve of another man's opinions is to adopt those opinions, and to adopt them is to approve of them. If the same arguments which convince you convince me likewise, I necessarily approve of your conviction; and if they do not, I necessarily disapprove of it: neither can I possibly conceive that I should do the one without the other. ...."
Thursday, February 12, 2015
winter sleep
Heard that roofs have crashed in Boston under the weight of the snow this month. and there's more snow starting today. I couldn't imagine living in Boston. it almost feels as if humans are fighting against nature in places that have become near-uninhabitable. here itself the cold is awful and long drawn, and yet nothing near the reality of humans buried in snow. although the wind does carry the trauma of bostonians into our ears. such that I've taken off my earrings for the entire winter. better unadorned than freezing with cold metal biting into them. and morning runs are painful without my ear-band.
And yet winter is good. it is fresh, and so alive, to be out in the cold hiding from the wind in the hood and in those pockets. it makes me feel so alert. and of course staying indoors while the white feathery precipitation blows around. uncertain whether to layer the earth. for now giving in to the wind and waiting it out. winter is bare and ruthless and yet so far from death or stillness.
it was therefore good timing to go watch 'Winter Sleep'. in an out of nowhere, pop-up Angelika. with about 20 seats, us in the second row, and not more than 5 others filled. sleeping the winter out is such a bummer, why would any animals want to do it? even if we hadn't invented heating and clothing and snowblowers etc. and were forced to stay indoors or rather under-earth, we wouldn't help being awake I'm sure. like me in my unemployed status right now for example. lazy and passive, yet hardly napping. or like the ppl in winter sleep: biting at each other, clawing, snapping, driven by their own motives and convictions of self-heroism or despair.
the movie teetered at the edge of a sopa opera. yet was real enough not to tumble down that alley, allowing forgiveness among and for the characters, saving the conversation within and without from becoming sentimental. sort of like the only kind of hibernation humans are capable of.
and we all are in some sense always like that. supremely proud of our work our achievements however admirable or small, however tangible or imagined, leading to an arrogance that naturally miniaturizes others; those others around us, who can only weaken us, attack us, reduce us. and continue to do so, till they have debased us to such a point where we fight back out of urgency. fight back with self-pity, with self-righteousness, with fists of blame and indignation that help our way back. to "resurface to the top like oil".
someone once said to me how important information was. information from one human to another about the latter. and vice versa when possible. its like what Smith (Vernon) was talking about in the podcast the other day: how a person sees and realizes what s/he is only through the reactions and feedback others give. and yet civility dilutes such feedback and substitutes it with politeness, when the external is deceiving. on the other hand breakdown of civility often results in anger and then censure without information, mutual and tit-for-tat. it is then that our inner voices deceive us. between the two, or probably with some filtering of both lies true information. in both cases, it is information that is sacred, and possibly scarce too. it is information we need, and we must give. yes, with caution, with care but also with honesty. and we should learn to take too.
And yet winter is good. it is fresh, and so alive, to be out in the cold hiding from the wind in the hood and in those pockets. it makes me feel so alert. and of course staying indoors while the white feathery precipitation blows around. uncertain whether to layer the earth. for now giving in to the wind and waiting it out. winter is bare and ruthless and yet so far from death or stillness.
it was therefore good timing to go watch 'Winter Sleep'. in an out of nowhere, pop-up Angelika. with about 20 seats, us in the second row, and not more than 5 others filled. sleeping the winter out is such a bummer, why would any animals want to do it? even if we hadn't invented heating and clothing and snowblowers etc. and were forced to stay indoors or rather under-earth, we wouldn't help being awake I'm sure. like me in my unemployed status right now for example. lazy and passive, yet hardly napping. or like the ppl in winter sleep: biting at each other, clawing, snapping, driven by their own motives and convictions of self-heroism or despair.
the movie teetered at the edge of a sopa opera. yet was real enough not to tumble down that alley, allowing forgiveness among and for the characters, saving the conversation within and without from becoming sentimental. sort of like the only kind of hibernation humans are capable of.
and we all are in some sense always like that. supremely proud of our work our achievements however admirable or small, however tangible or imagined, leading to an arrogance that naturally miniaturizes others; those others around us, who can only weaken us, attack us, reduce us. and continue to do so, till they have debased us to such a point where we fight back out of urgency. fight back with self-pity, with self-righteousness, with fists of blame and indignation that help our way back. to "resurface to the top like oil".
someone once said to me how important information was. information from one human to another about the latter. and vice versa when possible. its like what Smith (Vernon) was talking about in the podcast the other day: how a person sees and realizes what s/he is only through the reactions and feedback others give. and yet civility dilutes such feedback and substitutes it with politeness, when the external is deceiving. on the other hand breakdown of civility often results in anger and then censure without information, mutual and tit-for-tat. it is then that our inner voices deceive us. between the two, or probably with some filtering of both lies true information. in both cases, it is information that is sacred, and possibly scarce too. it is information we need, and we must give. yes, with caution, with care but also with honesty. and we should learn to take too.
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