In Metrics for victory, Den Beste draws a … peculiar analogy to explain how difficult it will be to declare victory in Iraq:
Let’s consider an analogous case from our own past. When I was a kid in the 1950′s, homosexuality was broadly viewed as perversion, sin, and/or mental illness depending on who you asked. Few were openly homosexual, and many of those were persecuted or prosecuted. (Computer Science demigod Alan Turing committed suicide in 1954 while under forced medical treatment to ‘cure’ him of his homosexuality.)Nowadays homosexuality is open, widely accepted, and even legally protected to some extent, and indeed almost unremarkable. There are still many who hate homosexuals, but they’re a declining minority. It’s an indication of how much things have changed that the biggest legal question of the day regarding homosexuals is whether they should be permitted to legally marry, rather than how long they should be locked up for. A lot has changed.
When, exactly, did that change happen? What metric would you apply to permit us to determine the day and hour when gays became free?
You can’t. There isn’t one that makes sense. It’s not like that.
He also draws an analogy to our occupation of Japan after WWII — which led me to look up the Constitution of Japan. Here’s the preface:
We, the Japanese people, acting through our duly elected representatives in the National Diet, determined that we shall secure for ourselves and our posterity the fruits of peaceful cooperation with all nations and the blessings of liberty throughout this land, and resolved that never again shall we be visited with the horrors of war through the action of government, do proclaim that sovereign power resides with the people and do firmly establish this Constitution. Government is a sacred trust of the people, the authority for which is derived from the people, the powers of which are exercised by the representatives of the people, and the benefits of which are enjoyed by the people. This is a universal principle of mankind upon which this Constitution is founded. We reject and revoke all constitutions, laws ordinances, and rescripts in conflict herewith. We, the Japanese people, desire peace for all time and are deeply conscious of the high ideals controlling human relationship and we have determined to preserve our security and existence, trusting in the justice and faith of the peace-loving peoples of the world. We desire to occupy an honored place in an international society striving for the preservation of peace, and the banishment of tyranny and slavery, oppression and intolerance for all time from the earth. We recognize that all peoples of the world have the right to live in peace, free from fear and want. We believe that no nation is responsible to itself alone, but that laws of political morality are universal; and that obedience to such laws is incumbent upon all nations who would sustain their own sovereignty and justify their sovereign relationship with other nations. We, the Japanese people, pledge our national honor to accomplish these high ideals and purposes with all our resources.
Interestingly, the first few chapters of the constitution are The Emperor, Renunciation of War, then Rights and Duties of the People.
Den Beste also posted an interesting letter from a fellow who’d lived in Japan and could comment on the social change there even over the last decade:
I only have some residual Japanese but I can vouch for some real changes in the last ten years (I passed the “yonkyu” about ten years ago, but lost my Japanese when I started living in a German speaking place).There are levels of formality even when talking about yourself. In male speech Watakushi is very formal, Watashi less formal, Boku is blokey, Ore is drunken pub talk (at least that was how it was explained to me). I don’t know if there are female equivalents of boku or ore, I was told that if I was ever “close” enough to a Japanese female to hear “that sort of thing” I would figure it out. On my last trip to Japan I overheard young girls on the subway referring to themselves using boku and ore. Ten years ago I was told that a young girl should not even be able to recognise that ore was a Japanese word.
Ten years ago I was taught that, when talking about your OWN wife you would use the word kanai — which is made up of kanji characters meaning inside the home. On my last trip I was told by a young man that kanai is never used except by old fuddy-duddies (using it would provoke a fight with your wife). Modern wives are addressed more respectfully as okasan which is the form used to speak of other men’s wives honourable wife (might be spelt wrong), colloquially as wifu (wife with a Japanese accent) or, intimately as anata (just plain you).
On other matters, I found that a word I had been taught to use as a normal way of referring to Koreans had become a very(!) rude word. When I said it the person I was talking to went white as a sheet and and told me that I should never, NEVER, EVER (!!!) use that word again (and he wasn’t even Korean).
As your many correspondents have said, the times are a changing.