Chaotic Enough to Be Interesting

Tuesday, March 2nd, 2010

Movies are much pinker today than in the past — not in tint, but in the way the cuts resemble pink noise:

According to the new report, the basic shot structure of the movies, the way film segments of different lengths are bundled together from scene to scene, act to act, has evolved over the years to resemble a rough but recognizably wave-like pattern called 1/f, or one over frequency — or the more Hollywood-friendly metaphor, pink noise. Pink noise is a characteristic signal profile seated somewhere between random and rigid, and for utterly mysterious reasons, our world is ablush with it. Start with a picture of Penélope Cruz, say, or a flamingo on a lawn, and decompose the picture into a collection of sine waves of various humps, dives and frequencies. However distinctive the original images, if you look at the distribution of their underlying frequencies, said Jeremy M. Wolfe, a vision researcher at Brigham and Women’s Hospital, “they turn out to have a one over f characteristic to them.”

So, too, for many features of our natural and artifactual surroundings. Track the pulsings of a quasar, the beatings of a heart, the flow of the tides, the bunchings and thinnings of traffic, or the gyrations of the stock market, and the data points will graph out as pink noise. Much recent evidence from reaction-time experiments suggests that we think, focus and refocus our minds, all at the speed of pink. If you’re sitting at a task, Dr. Cutting said, “sometimes you’re good at it, sometimes your mind wanders, sometimes you’re fast, sometimes you’re slow, and the oscillating patterns that occur are generally one over f.”

White noise is uncorrelated data — like static. Brown noise is a random walk — each step is based on the one before. Pink noise is correlated enough to create a pattern, but chaotic enough to be interesting — like your heart rate.

Thoughts on Commercials

Saturday, February 27th, 2010

Steve Sailer has been watching the Winter Olympics and has some thoughts on commercials:

Speaking of commercials, why don’t advertisers make slight variants of their commercials to keep people from completely zoning out the 73rd time they’ve seen it? They shoot way more footage than they use, so why not whip up alternative versions to keep viewers awake during the Olympics?

Here’s an easy way to keep siblings competitively engaged: shoot three or four different punchlines and then make one slight variation in each version’s set-up shots. That way, somebody who is paying close attention will be able to achieve dominance over the rest of his family by accurately predicting the punchline. It will drive his siblings crazy, so they will also study the commercials looking for clues so they can beat him to the punchline.

Also, advertising agencies keep missing the sweet spot between too boring and too interesting that you don’t notice what brand is being advertised. A lot of prestige ads that run on the Olympics are so expensive, so filled with show-offy scenes from around the world that you often lose the thread before they finally flash the sponsor’s logo for 0.8 seconds at the end. I’m sure those kind of ads win awards — nobody loves to give awards to each other more than advertising people — but are they really effective at selling whatever sponsor that’s revealed at the very end? Especially when the stylistic theme of countless commercials is exactly the same: Despite, or perhaps because of, global diversity, everybody on Earth loves us.
[...]
Instead, why not borrow a trick from cable networks that keep a small logo up on a lower corner of the screen? Hey, this show is on the Discovery Channel! I’ll have to try to remember that. Similarly, put the sponsor’s logo in the corner throughout the commercial. Your ad won’t win any awards and your ad agency might get sanctioned by the Advertising Council for violating the professional ethics of the advertising business by being overly attentive to the client’s interests instead of to your own sense of creative self-expression, but, so what?

A Canticle for Leibowitz

Thursday, February 25th, 2010

Lent started recently, and, by coincidence, I started reading A Canticle for Leibowitz, which opens with a monastic novice passing his Lenten vigil in the desert — in the 26th century, six centuries after the Flame Deluge has plunged civilization into a new Dark Age:

The text reveals that as a result of the war there was a violent backlash against the culture of advanced knowledge and technology that had led to the development of nuclear weapons. During this backlash, called the “Simplification,” anyone of learning, and eventually anyone who could even read, was likely to be killed by rampaging mobs, who proudly took on the name of “Simpletons”. Illiteracy became almost universal, and books were destroyed en masse.

Isaac Edward Leibowitz had been a Jewish electrical engineer working for the United States military. Surviving the war, he converted to Roman Catholicism and founded a monastic order, the “Albertian Order of Leibowitz”, dedicated to preserving knowledge by hiding books, smuggling them to safety (booklegging), memorizing, and copying them. The Order’s abbey is located in the American southwestern desert, near the military base where Leibowitz had worked before the war, on an old road that may have been “a portion of the shortest route from the Great Salt Lake to Old El Paso.” Leibowitz was eventually betrayed and martyred. Later beatified by the Roman Catholic Church, he became a candidate for sainthood.

Centuries after his death, the abbey is still preserving the “Memorabilia”, the collected writings that have survived the Flame Deluge and the Simplification, in the hope that they will help future generations reclaim forgotten science.

Recently, Robin Hanson called attention to William Grassie’s fuzzy-headed far view on surviving such a catastrophe, calling it not just fuzzy-headed but also amazingly wrong-headed, because it suggested that a single impractical book — Maps of Time — could preserve literacy.

That’s an odd complaint, I said, given that we know many, many people learned to read specifically to read one such “impractical” book, the Bible, and, as Canticle reminds us, the last time we needed to bootstrap society, we did it with the help of religious monasteries, which had retained many ancient texts and the ability to read them because they were tenuously connected to the Bible.

Today, especially amongst American Protestants-turned-agnostics, we look at the Catholic Church as an enemy of Truth and Progress — the Church silenced Galileo! — but through most of human history it served as a kind of Long Now Foundation, establishing rites and rituals that would sustain the Church and its traditions for generations and giving great thought to Big Questions.

I did not know it at the time, but Walter Miller, the author, had served in a bomber crew that helped destroy the monastery at Monte Cassino during World War II, and he converted to Catholicism after the war. Seen through his sympathetic eyes, the Church is a source of great practical wisdom, with established methods for steering flawed human beings toward productive behaviors — not unlike the Overcoming Bias and Less Wrong crowds, but more experienced, if also tied to a peculiar cosmology.

This ties in with Robert Nelson’s Reaching for Heaven on Earth, which, according to TWV, divides many great thinkers into two camps:

He calls his first category “the Roman tradition,” after both the empire and the Catholic Church. The thinkers he discusses under this rubric range from Aristotle to Paul Samuelson. “The leading figures of the Roman tradition,” he claims, “have not been the great revolutionaries of history, but men who typically saw moderation as a virtue and favored an incremental process of human development” (31). He lists 15 characteristic views of those in this tradition:
  1. The world is rational; nature, including man, is guided by the dictates of reason.
  2. The material and external world are the original and fundamental reality — not the world of the mind and ideas.
  3. Men are in principle capable of discovering and understanding the rationality of human existence.
  4. Systematic scientific investigation is required to uncover the rational laws of nature, demanding careful research and studies.
  5. Progress is found in gradual movement toward a natural and rational destiny.
  6. Valid law is natural law, which should govern humanity.
  7. Justice is what is rational, which is common to all.
  8. Because all humanity shares the same reason, all men are fundamentally equal.
  9. Life is lived to achieve happiness; a utilitarian goal is appropriate for mankind.
  10. Society is an organic community steered for the common good.
  11. Private property is a beneficial instrument of the common good.
  12. It is natural and just to pursue one’s self-interest.
  13. The poor are deserving: Society has the strong obligation to support them as fellow members of the community.
  14. Wisdom is found in moderation.
  15. This-worldy, commonsensical, and pragmatic attitudes best serve the needs of humanity.

Nelson’s second category is the “Protestant tradition,” which includes thinkers as diverse as Plato, Augustine, Karl Marx, and Herbert Spencer. For these thinkers, the moral status of law is “much less exalted…. Law is necessary in the Protestant tradition, but is merely a coercive device required to keep wicked men from doing still greater damage to one another. Indeed, all government is seen in this light, as a sinful product of man’s condition. Nevertheless, its decrees must be obeyed until God — or history — finally opens the way to a happier destiny” (55). Nelson’s list of characteristic Protestant views diverges dramatically from the Roman:

  1. The human condition in this world is deep alienation from original and true nature.
  2. Owing to man’s corrupted condition, reason is unreliable, often a source of delusion.
  3. Existing law is a corrupted product — like reason — of current human depravity.
  4. Justice is not to be found in the rational, but in the iron dictates of God or history.
  5. The ways of the world are revealed to men not through reason, but through revelation.
  6. True progress demands a revolutionary transformation of human existence.
  7. The current world is destined for sin; the triumph of virtue must await a heaven in the hereafter or the arrival of an earthly heaven.
  8. Mankind is divided among the saved and the condemned, the superior and the inferior groups.
  9. Life is lived not for happiness, but for disciplined labor in the service of God or history.
  10. Self-interest and economic competition exert an evil influence in the affairs of man.
  11. Communal living and common ownership are the highest form of existence.
  12. Government, like property, is a coercive social instrument designed to control sinful and unruly natures.
  13. The poor are responsible for their fate; society must not coddle them.
  14. Moderation is banality; pragmatism is a sign of weakness.
  15. The record of history is not progress, but retrogression, the fall of man.

Again, American Protestants-turned-agnostics tend to see the Catholic Church as similar to the Protestant Church, but with more silly rituals, when the key distinction through most of history has been the conservative, moderate nature of Catholicism versus the romantic, millennial nature of most Protestantism, at least in its origins.

Aretae recently mentioned that Tolstoy’s War and Peace helped him understand the entirely foreign worldview of an honest-to-goodness monarchist. I felt that Miller’s Canticle gave me a similar insight into Catholic monks — and reminded me that we may have torn down much of what the Church stood for, but we haven’t done a good job replacing it — which is why Peter Taylor recommends Yet Another Space Alien Cult. But we’ll get to that some other time.

To Badly Go

Thursday, February 25th, 2010

Don Boudreaux remarks that, to visit DC expecting to find people engaged in serious discussions of economics is like visiting a Star Trek convention expecting to find people engaged in serious discussions of astrophysics:

Perhaps a handful of the celebrities and costumed performers are familiar with real science, but their overwhelming object is not to help their public deal with reality but, rather, to escape it.

I preferred that remark in the original Klingon.

NOVA Extreme Cave Diving

Thursday, February 18th, 2010

The recent NOVA episode on extreme cave diving in the “blue holes” of the Bahamas struck me as almost over-the-top extreme:

Including the expedition leader, anthropologist Kenny Broad, the dive team has recovered the bodies of more than 100 cave divers. To imagine recovering just one, think of a flooded, crumbling 10-story building at night. There’s a dead body in the basement. You have to find it and drag it to the roof. Could you? What if it was a friend? Wes Skiles recovered the body of his best friend from a cave. He also recovered three brothers who realized they were hopelessly lost and out of air. Wes found them holding hands.

Not far into the episode, they find a human arm bone, then a flashlight, and then more remains in a 1970s-era wet suit. They also found some older remains:

At their deepest level, blue holes are anoxic, and this lack of oxygen helps to preserve whatever falls in. Our team was able to recover two skulls belonging to ancient humans, the fossils of vertebrates that are now extinct in the Bahamas, and fossils of birds that aren’t just extinct but have never before been described by science. Living within the blue holes are at least one new order of multi-cellular creatures, descended from animals that evolved millions of years ago, as well as single-celled organisms virtually indistinguishable from the first life-forms on Earth. Parts of blue holes are like our planet’s first seas, from a time four billion years ago when the Earth had no oxygen. NASA was interested in the expedition because the extreme life-forms found in blue holes are similar to what they hope to find on other planets.

Doctor Who had anti-Thatcher agenda

Wednesday, February 17th, 2010

The Telegraph reports that Doctor Who had an explicitly anti-Thatcher agenda back in the 1980s:

[Sylvester] McCoy, who played the seventh doctor from 1987 to 1989, and Andrew Cartmel, the script editor at the time, both admitted the conspiracy, saying that it “seemed the right thing to do”.

However, the secret messages remained a secret to all but Doctor Who insiders. Meanwhile the show’s popularity went into freefall and it was taken off air in 1989.

McCoy, now 66, who took over as the Doctor three months after Thatcher’s third election victory in 1987, said they brought politics into the show “deliberately” but “very quietly”.

He said: “We were a group of politically motivated people and it seemed the right thing to do.

“Our feeling was that Margaret Thatcher was far more terrifying than any monster the Doctor had encountered,” he told the Sunday Times.

Cartmel said it was almost a job requirement to detest Thatcher.

When asked by John Nathan-Turner, the producer, what he hoped to achieve in being the show’s script editor, he recalled: “My exact words were: I’d like to overthrow the government.

“I was a young firebrand and I wanted to answer honestly. I was very angry about the social injustice in Britain under Thatcher and I’m delighted that came into the show.”

His script writing team included Ben Aaronovitch, son of the late Marxist intellectual Sam Aaronovitch, and Rona Munro, who later became a scriptwriter for Ken Loach, the left-wing film director.

Sophie Aldred, who played the Doctor’s feminist assistant Ace, said the crew “weren’t very happy” with Thatcher being the prime minister at the time, which she described as “a real bonding process”.

One three-part programme, The Happiness Patrol, featured a transparent caricature of Thatcher.

Sheila Hancock played Helen A, a big-haired despotic ruler of a human colony on the planet Terra Alpha, whose subjects — called “drones” — worked in factories.

The Doctor calls on the drones to down their tools and revolt, an obvious reference to industrial disputes like the miners’ strike.

A year later Catrmel wrote a speech for the Doctor about the perils of nuclear weapons, which was based on material from the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND).

A spin-off children’s novel called Turlough and the Earthlink Dilemma, published under licence by the BBC in 1987, also featured a villain called Rehctaht — Thatcher backwards.

Cartmel lamented that such satire never reached its intended audience.
“Critics, media pundits and politicians certainly didn’t pick up on what we were doing. If we had generated controversy and become a cause célèbre we would have got a few more viewers but, sadly, nobody really noticed or cared.”

He said nobody further up in the BBC such as Jonathan Powell, then controller of BBC One, knew about their plan.

A spokesman for the BBC said it was “baffled” by the claims.

I’ve never seen the late-80s Doctor Who, but it sounds like anyone who was watching would have immediately picked up on the ham-handed satire. So, why is this news now?

Erector Set Movie

Wednesday, February 17th, 2010

In 1901, Frank Hornby introduced his Meccano toy set in England. In 1913, it came to America, where it was rebranded as the Erector Set. Now it’s getting its own feature film:

Helix Films, an independent film production company based in Santa Monica, today announced plans to develop an original 3-D feature based on the Erector Set, the iconic brand of children’s construction toys.

The Erector film is one of a number of coming 3-D features based on playthings. Disney’s 3-D sequel, “Toy Story 3,” hits theaters in June, and Universal will release a 3-D movie starring “Twilight’s” Taylor Lautner in 2012, based on the Stretch Armstrong doll. Paramount Pictures is currently weighing whether or not to release the third installment of Michael Bay’s ”Transformers” franchise in a 3-D format.

This might be a good opportunity to go back to the Meccano name.

Escape from New York, Again?

Thursday, February 11th, 2010

In the 1970s, it wasn’t hard to imagine a New York City that got so bad they walled it off and made it a prison. John Carpenter’s Escape from New York made a certain kind of sense. Now they want to remake it:

In the original, set at the end of World War III, New York City was a husk of itself after being turned into a giant prison, but that kind of destruction gets pricey. So in Escape 2.0, the Big Apple that the as-yet-uncast Snake Plissken is dropped into will be geographically undesirable, but intact: This Manhattan was evacuated and turned into a privately run penal colony after the detonation of a crude radioactive dirty bomb on the outskirts of the city.

“It is not a disaster movie,” says a source close to the project. “It is an exposé of an ecosystem, if you put a huge wall around Manhattan and then dropped in the most fucked-up, dangerous criminals on Earth.” This means New York will still be recognizable to audiences, à la I Am Legend, rather than an entirely new Armageddon Island.

I didn’t realize that the original, with its B-movie sensibilities, was expensive to make:

Carpenter and his crew persuaded the city to shut off the electricity to ten blocks at a time at night. The film was shot from August to November of 1980. It was a tough and demanding shoot for the filmmaker as he recalls. “We’d finish shooting at about 6 am and I’d just be going to sleep at 7 when the sun would be coming up. I’d wake up around 5 or 6 pm, depending on whether or not we had dailies, and by the time I got going, the sun would be setting. So for about two and a half months I never saw daylight, which was really strange.”
[...]
When it came to shooting in New York City Carpenter managed to persuade the city officials to grant access to Liberty Island. “We were the first film company in history allowed to shoot on Liberty Island at the Statue of Liberty at night. They let us have the whole island to ourselves. We were lucky. It wasn’t easy to get that initial permission. They’d had a bombing three months earlier and were worried about trouble.”

This is a cropped screen shot from the DVD version of John Carpenter's Escape From New York. It shows the wire frame image generated by the glider's approach computer. At the time of production, computer effect were prohibitively expensive, so a physical model was painted black and outlined using reflective tape. The model was then filmed using a black light.Some effects were too expensive to do as planned:

As Snake pilots the glider into the city there are three screens on his control panel displaying wireframe animations of the landing target on the World Trade Center and surrounding buildings. What appears on those screens was not computer generated. Carpenter wanted hi-tech computer graphics which were very expensive at the time, even for such a simple animation. To get the animation he wanted the effects crew filmed the miniature model set of New York City they used for other scenes under black light with reflective tape placed along every edge of the model buildings. Only the tape shows up and appears to be a 3D wireframe animation.

Beaker’s Epic Burn-ination

Tuesday, February 9th, 2010

Gloat over Beaker’s epic burn-ination:

Spirit

Saturday, January 30th, 2010

The latest xkcd strip, on the Mars rover Spirit, is bittersweet. I find it far too easy to identify with a little, well-intentioned robot.

Para Fuera

Friday, January 29th, 2010

If you’re feeling complacent, may I suggest watching Nicholas Jasenovec’s portrait of Dr. Richard J. Bing on his hundredth birthday, Para Fuera:

Natural and Supernatural

Thursday, January 28th, 2010

Jerome K. Jerome, a friend of Welsh horror writer Arthur Machen, once observed that the difference between what we call the natural and the supernatural is merely the difference between frequency and rarity of occurrence.

Saved from the Fire

Wednesday, January 27th, 2010

Beowulf, in his old age, faces the dragon and suffers through its fire before the great serpent buries its fangs in his neck. The great warrior, sword broken, lives just long enough to slay the dragon with his knife. Fortunately, the manuscript was never bit in the neck:

When the heirs of Sir Robert Cotton selected a spot to stash the rare-book collector’s priceless library, they probably should have known better than to pick a place called Ashburnham House. In 1731, a fire swept through that ill-named residence in London and forever impoverished our literary heritage.

One manuscript that escaped the blaze — just barely — contained an untitled poem of more than 3,000 lines. The flames actually singed its pages and destroyed bits of its unique content. In the centuries to follow, gradual deterioration consumed even more. It’s a small miracle that “Beowulf,” as the poem came to be called, survived at all.

Nostromo

Tuesday, January 26th, 2010

Nostromo is Italian for “mate” or “boatswain,” a contraction of nostro uomo — “our man.” To sci-fi film geeks, it’s the name of the mining craft in Ridley Scott’s Alien.

But it’s also the name of a 1904 novel by Joseph Conrad, which, Robert Kaplan says defines and dissects the problems with the world just beyond our own, by examining Westerners and indigenous inhabitants of an imaginary South American country, Costaguana:

Nostromo is neither overly descriptive and moodily vague like Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, nor is its ending entirely unhappy. For a civil society-in-the-making does emerge in Costaguana, but it is midwived by a ruined cynic of a doctor who has given up on humanity, a deeply skeptical journalist, and two bandit gangs, not by the idealist whose actions had helped lead to the country’s earlier destruction. Conrad never denies the possibility of progress in any society, but he is ironic enough to know that “The ways of human progress are inscrutable”, and that is why “action is consolatory” and “the friend of flattering illusions.” Charles Gould, the failed idealist of the novel, who believes absolutely in economic development, “had no ironic eye. He was not amused at the absurdities that prevail in this world.”

Nostromo is Conrad’s best and most difficult work, Kaplan says:

In this media-obsessed age — when “intellectuals” spend their evenings watching C-SPAN and CNN — people may be better acquainted with Heart of Darkness than with Nostromo only because the former is exceedingly short, as well as amenable to skimming, on account of a thin plot and lengthy landscape descriptions. In Nostromo, however, landscape ambiance is a tightly controlled, strategic accompaniment to political realism.

It matters today, because so little has changed in the “developing” world:

It is a tribute to Conrad’s insight that his description of Costaguana and its port, Sulaco, captures so many of the crucial tidbits and subtleties about troubled Third World states (particularly small and isolated ones) that foreign correspondents of today experience but do not always inform their readers about, because such details do not fit within the confines of “news” or “objective” analysis.

There are, for example, the handful of foreign merchants in Sulaco, without whom there would be no local economy; the small, sovereign parcels of foreign territory (company headquarters and embassies) to which people flee at times of unrest; and the obscure army captain who has spent time abroad hanging about cafés in European capitals, and who later finds himself back home, nursing resentments, and at the head of a rebellion provoked by soldiers who drink heavily.

There is, too, the “stupendous magnificence” of the local scenery — what Conrad calls a “Paradise of snakes”; the conspiracy theories begot by deep isolation and the general feeling of powerlessness and “futility”; and a wealthier, more developed part of the country that wants to secede because its inhabitants are even more cynical about the political future over “the mountains” than any foreigner. Conrad shows us, too, how bad forms of urbanization deform cultures: “the town children of the Sulaco Campo”, for instance, “sullen, thievish, vindictive, and bloodthirsty, whatever great qualities their brothers of the plain might have had.”

He describes oscillations between chaos and tyranny, and political movements named after their leaders — Monterists and Ribierists — because in Costaguana, despite the talk of “democracy” and “liberation”, there are no ideas, only personalities. He describes “the dread of officialdom with its nightmarish parody of administration without law, without security.” He describes a port, an ocean port no less, that because of Costaguana’s lawlessness is “so isolated” from the world.

His conclusion is of a sort that a novelist can make with less damage to his reputation than a journalist: “The fundamental causes [of the Monterist terror] were the same as ever, rooted in the political immaturity of the people, in the indolence of the upper classes and the mental darkness of the lower.” Giorgio Viola, an Italian who fought with Giuseppe Garibaldi and now lives in Costaguana with his dying wife and two daughters, believes, moments after several bullets strike his house and a mob tries to set fire to his roof, that “These were not a people striving for justice, but thieves.”

Back to Alien:

In James Cameron’s sequel, Aliens, the Marine transport vessel is named Sulaco. (Also in Alien, the escape vessel is named Narcissus, an allusion to another of Conrad’s works, The Nigger of the Narcissus.)

Reading racism into pulp fiction

Tuesday, January 26th, 2010

Eric S. Raymond has a scholarly interest in the historical roots of science fiction, which has led him to read — or re-read — the works of Edgar Rice Burroughs — famous for Tarzan, of course, but also for John Carter of Mars — Rudyard Kipling — famous for Kim, but also for As Easy As A.B.C. — and Harold Lamb — famous for his Cossack stories, which, he doesn’t mention, influenced Robert E. Howard, creator of Conan.

This leads him to discuss reading racism into pulp fiction:

The skepticism I’m now developing about ascriptions of racism in pulp fiction really began, I think, when I learned that it had become fashionable to denigrate Rudyard Kipling’s Kim and other India stories as racist. This is clearly sloppy thinking at work. Kim was deeply respectful of its non-European characters, especially the Pathan swashbuckler Mahbub Ali and Teshoo Lama. Indeed, the wisdom and compassion of Kipling’s lama impressed me so greatly as a child that I think it founded my lifelong interest in and sympathy with Buddhism.

But I didn’t begin thinking really critically about race in pulp fiction until I read Tarzan and the Castaways a few years ago and noticed something curious about the way Burroughs and his characters used the adjective “white” (applied to people). That is: while it appeared on the surface to be a racial distinction, it was actually a culturist one. In Burroughs’s terms of reference (at least as of 1939), “white” is actually code for “civilized”; the distinction between “civilized” and “savage” is actually more important than white/nonwhite, and non-Europeans can become constructively “white” by exhibiting civilized virtues.

Realizing this caused me to review my assumptions about racial attitudes in Burroughs’s time. I found myself asking whether the use of “white” as code for “civilized” was prejudice or pragmatism. Because there was this about Burrough’s European characters: (1) in their normal environments, the correlation between “civilized” and “white” would have been pretty strong, and (2) none of them seemed to have any trouble treating nonwhite but civilized characters with respect. In fact, in Burroughs’s fiction, fair dealing with characters who are black, brown, green, red, or gorilla-furred is the most consistent virtue of the white gentleman.

I concluded that, given the information available to a typical European in 1939, it might very well be that using “white” as code for “civilized” was pragmatically reasonable, and that the reflex we have today of ascribing all racially-correlated labels to actually racist beliefs is actually unfair to Burroughs and his characters!

It’s almost comical to see the programmer-libertarian argument play out against an imagined intellectual-progressive audience: You see, Burroughs doesn’t mean white when he says “white” — he means civilized! Therefore, he’s not racist.

Raymond’s defense of Lamb is similarly unlikely to convert anyone on the Left:

The “brushes with anti-Semitism” lie in Lamb’s portrayal of the Jewish merchants of the time. They sell the Cossacks clothes, weapons, food, and gunpowder and turn the freebooters’ loot into cash. They are depicted as avaricious, cowardly, mean, and quite willing to toady to the warriors and princes they serve. How are we to interpret this in light of Lamb’s sympathetic portrayals of a dozen other races and cultures?

Of course it’s possible Lamb was simply replaying anti-Semitic attitudes he had absorbed somewhere. But in reading these stories I had another moment like the one in which I understood that Burroughs was using “white” as culturist code for “civilized”. It was this: the behavior of Lamb’s Jewish merchants made adaptive sense. Maybe they were really like that!

Consider: The Jews of Lamb’s milieu lived under Christian and Islamic rulers who forbade them from carrying weapons, who despised them, who taxed and persecuted them with a heavy hand. If you were a Jew in that time and place, exhibiting courage and the warrior virtues that Lamb was so ready to recognize in a Mongol or an Afghani was likely to earn you a swift and ugly death.

Under those conditions, I’m thinking that being cowardly and avaricious and toadying would have been completely sensible; after all, what other options than flattering the authorities and getting rich enough to buy themselves out of trouble did Jews actually have?

Lamb seems to have have mined the historical sources pretty assiduously in his portrayals of other cultures and races. Rather than dismissing Lamb’s Jews as creatures of his prejudices, I think we need to at least consider the possibility that he was mostly replaying period beliefs about Jewish merchants, and that those beliefs were in fact fairly accurate. He certainly seems to have tried to do something similar with the other flavors of human being in his books.

Nowadays we tend to interpret Lamb’s Jewish merchants through assumptions that read something like this: (1) All racial labels are indications of racist thinking, and (2) all race-associated stereotypes are necessarily false, and (3) all racial labels and race-related stereotypes are malicious. But it seems to me that, at least as I read Burroughs and Lamb, all these assumptions are highly questionable.