Look, I’m all about disagreement. I believe disagreement constitutes the most fundamental discursive element; “agreement” is at best transitory, more often illusory. So I’m not trying to force anyone’s conscience, anyone’s hand.
But let’s give the most charitable take on this story (that John Adams called to my attention). A history teacher/academic chaplain articulates one way of looking at a contemporary controversy — and for that, the administration fires him and drives him off the property.
I haven’t read the article; there are ill-considered, inflammatory ways of tackling our contemporary sexuality headaches, and the article may have been a fiery blast of liberal ignorance. More likely, from the tone of the report, the editorial just espoused a position unpopular with the school’s donors.
Either way, the administration’s hasty convulsions reflect the unproductive kind of panic reaction that so often substitutes for deliberation and reflective response (witness Gregg Easterbrook). The ways we might deal with unwelcome talk, disagreeable perspectives, or flat-out dumb mistakes, surpass what we imagine — but we typically jerk our knee and fire, blast, purge, shout down, stifle those whom we identify as transgressors. I’m willing to insist, though, that the vast preponderance of productive, healing, educational responses fall into the unhurried, imaginative category rather than the sudden, sweep-it-out-the-door-and-under-the-carpet category. I’ll apply that claim to international relations, to theological disputes, to child-rearing and spouse-coping, to domestic politics, to parish crises.
Practice thinking or saying:
“What if I’m wrong? What would I want to have done that would command respect in retrospect?”
“How can we work our way out of this mess?”
“Granted that this happened once: how can we pattern our lives to reduce the likelihood that it’ll happen again?”
“Did you say (or do) that because you’re an unreflective bigot, or because something distracted you so that your commitment to fairness and even-handedness slipped?”
“How can we make clear that we think you’re wrong, without muscling you into submission or flight?”
Maybe the school in this story does better for philanthropic gifts by its misanthropic policies — but I’d bet that they’d come out ahead in the long run if they demonstrated a principled, firm, policy of adhering to their institutional premises while permitting disagreement. Trying to suppress dissent has a nasty way of starting revolutions.
Posted by AKMA at October 27, 2003 02:38 PM | TrackBackWhat really struck me about this story was that the poor guy's wife had recently died, and that he'd left his previous job as a headmaster at another school looking for a place to find some peace:
"a place to reflect, to teach, to learn and eventually to retire"
It just broke my heart to read that.
Posted by: adamsj at October 27, 2003 09:04 PMInteresting...
Posted by: chs at October 28, 2003 07:48 AMThanks for posting this. What a shame it is that we have come to this.
Posted by: karen at October 28, 2003 09:58 PMY'know, it's these sorts of cases which tempt me to issue some obnoxious and not-at-all-in-the-spirit-of-interfaith-harmony challenges to anyone who cares to explain what parts of divine law are and are not binding through a careful exegesis of both Hebrew and Greek Scriptures.
*sigh* Sorry. But, God, that's a pathetically poor job of coping with either theological debate or academic discourse.
Posted by: Naomi Chana at October 29, 2003 11:23 AMOur next line looks familiar, except it starts with an asterisk. Again, we're using the star operator, and noting that this variable we're working with is a pointer. If we didn't, the computer would try to put the results of the right hand side of this statement (which evaluates to 6) into the pointer, overriding the value we need in the pointer, which is an address. This way, the computer knows to put the data not in the pointer, but into the place the pointer points to, which is in the Heap. So after this line, our int is living happily in the Heap, storing a value of 6, and our pointer tells us where that data is living.
Posted by: Lancelot at January 13, 2004 09:31 AMEarlier I mentioned that variables can live in two different places. We're going to examine these two places one at a time, and we're going to start on the more familiar ground, which is called the Stack. Understanding the stack helps us understand the way programs run, and also helps us understand scope a little better.
Posted by: Silvester at January 13, 2004 09:31 AMA variable leads a simple life, full of activity but quite short (measured in nanoseconds, usually). It all begins when the program finds a variable declaration, and a variable is born into the world of the executing program. There are two possible places where the variable might live, but we will venture into that a little later.
Posted by: Tabitha at January 13, 2004 09:31 AM