Death of an Anecdotal Species?

We of the species homo sapiens may not exactly deserve the “sapiens” label, since the terminology homo anecdotus or something similar might be more accurate. We react to what we see and what we hear, and tend to believe stories others tell, rather than facts, mathematics, or statistics.

When I was with the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, there was such a furor over hazardous waste sites that, effectively, almost the entire political staff of the Agency was canned, including the Administrator, as well as the Secretary of the Interior. While I thought then, and still do, that the issue was badly bungled by the Administration, and that’s putting it mildly, they did have a certain point in believing that people were overreacting. That was because people could see the hazardous waste sites and the handful of children and others who suffered damaged health, as well as the contaminated neighborhoods.

HOWEVER… in perspective, as shown by a later series of studies, the “Superfund” hazardous waste sites were far from the most dangerous environment concerns. Yearly deaths from exposure to household radon were far more dangerous, by five to twenty times, as was asbestos exposure, which has resulted in more than 10,000 deaths annually. Cancer deaths from smoking exceed 300,000 annually, and automobile accidents account for some 45,000. Yet the Superfund political upheaval resulted in Congressional action headed toward impeaching the head of EPA and resulted in the resignations of both the Interior Secretary and the EPA Administrator, and the conviction of an assistant administrator for perjury before Congress.

Another example of this anecdotalism is exemplified by people who refuse to fly because they feel driving is safer. For them, the anecdotal example of the infrequent air crash where 300 people die has a greater impact that the fact that most people are ten thousand times more likely to die in an automobile accident than in a plane crash.

On a far larger scale, take the issue of cometary or asteroidal impacts on the earth. Based on what was seen, i.e., anecdotal evidence, scientists originally estimated that the chance of a “space rock” large enough to create a catastrophic impact on earth, such as the one thought to have wiped out the dinosaurs, was roughly once every million years. Then, more digging and satellite photography analysis discovered more craters, and the odds were increased to something like once every 100,000 years. Then, several years ago, several scientists made the rather obvious observation that the craters that had been discovered were all where we could see them — on land — but that the earth’s surface is something like seventy percent water. More investigation and correlation with historical and climate records revealed several more near-catastrophic water impacts over the past 10,000 years.

Then, recent astronomic discoveries have revealed that the population of near-earth objects [NEOs] big enough to wipe out cities or larger sections of the planet is approaching more than a thousand, and that their orbits aren’t nearly so stable as was originally surmised. Yet NASA, the U.S. space agency that might be considered to have a certain concern about space-related potential disasters, blithely informed Congress several years ago that any really reliable survey of NEOs would cost $1 billion, about seven percent of its annual budget — or one percent if spread over seven years — and that NASA had no intention of spending money on what is clearly a real threat, nor did it even have a draft contingency plan of what it might do if one of those objects was discovered to be on a collision course with earth, even though some respected astronomers have now estimated that the chances of a city-destroying [or worse] object hitting earth in any given century are about one in ten. In short, since we haven’t seen anything like this recently, except maybe something did explode above Siberia a century ago that we still can’t explain fully, it can’t be as real as the need to pinch pennies for other projects that don’t bear on the survival of our entire species, as well as a few thousand others.

The anecdotal mind-set may function adequately in a hunter-gatherer society, but just as we’ve given up, largely, chipped flint hammers for better tools, isn’t it time to go beyond the anecdotal mind-set, one that’s clearly limited to what we can see, and use a wider and deeper perspective?

Because, over time, if we don’t, earth will see the end of our anecdotal species.

New… and True… and Trite

I happened to come across a reader’s comments about the Spellsong Cycle, most of which boiled down to the fact that he liked all my books — except those, because they were “trite.” I mean, after all, writing about sexism and stereotypes is just so old and trite, and the idea of magic being wielded through song in a logical and technical basis is almost as trite, as well. Except… outside of Alan Dean Foster and Louise Marley, I haven’t seen any other decent, in depth, and logical treatments of vocal music as the basis of magic. It’s very rare, as Louise Marley herself has said upon occasion, and as both a noted novelist and a professional opera singer, she does have a bit of expertise in those fields.

That leaves the issue of novels dealing with sexism as perpetuating “trite” stereotypes and something that is so old and last-century, or even so nineteenth century. If anyone thinks that sexism is that out-of-date, then you’re living in a greater fantasy than anything I’ve ever written. A few examples follow. A highly-qualified gynecological oncologist [female] who runs the a division at a top medical school is paid less than a younger colleague [male] with far less academic and occupational qualifications, publications, or surgical expertise. Female full professors at any number of colleges and universities — with equivalent or greater time in rank and professional qualifications — are on average paid more on the level of male associate professors in the same disciplines. A similar discrepancy occurs in the ranks of business executives [when one can even find senior female executives who have managed to break through the glass ceiling]. What is interesting about all this is that these days, if you look at university graduates and post-graduates, women are winning a wide majority of the academic honors, with the exception of a few areas of science.

I’d also note the large number of political pundits who are calling for Senator Clinton to drop out of the race for the Democratic presidential nomination. As a long-time Republican, if of the Teddy Roosevelt stripe, I can claim a certain distance… but I would note that in my own twenty-odd years of political involvement I never saw anyone even broach that sort of suggestion to a male candidate. After all, it’s only right that a real man fights it out to the last, isn’t it?

Obviously, with six daughters and a wife all in professional fields, I have a wealth of insights and information from which I can draw, in addition to the statistics that are available to all — and which are largely ignored and minimized.

Now… one of the roles that F&SF fills in our society is to explore ideas and issues and problems, and it’s one of the few writing fields that does so consistently. I’d be the first to agree that readers certainly don’t have to read what they don’t like… and they don’t. Some readers have indicated that they stay away from my work that deals too directly with real-world issues. I can understand that. There are times when I certainly don’t want to deal with them. But issues tend to keep coming up until they are addressed.

After all, some of the Founding Fathers, among them John Adams, suggested that the slavery issue wasn’t going away — and it didn’t. Nor did the civil rights issues that followed. Nor will the issues raised by the current Administration in instigating a war and in suppressing civil liberties in the name of “security.” Nor will the problems raised in a society where almost any working woman has to do more and do it better than her male peers in order to even come close to them in terms of compensation.

Is sexism a long and enduring problem? Absolutely. Does that make it “trite?” Not in the slightest.

A reader can certainly complain about anything, and an author has to take complaints with enough grains of salt to fill all the shakers in my house. But… don’t tell me or anyone else that a real social problem is “trite.” You can tell me that the plot’s lousy, that you don’t want to read about women and their problems, or that the kind of fantasy you really want to read has to have more testosterone in it. You can claim my style’s weak, that the book’s too long or too short, or that the song lyrics should have been better. But when a reader claims that a real and unsolved social issue is trite… that’s a pretty good explanation in itself why that issue hasn’t been resolved… and why I’ll continue to raise the issue at least periodically.

Health Care… and the Future

The April 28th issue of the Wall Street Journal carried an article that would have been considered science fiction some thirty years ago — and James Gunn was one of the writers who addressed it then. Now it’s reality. Major non-profit hospitals are demanding payment up-front for expensive treatments when significant portions of the cost of treatment aren’t covered by insurance.

I suspect that the initial reaction of most people will be along the line of “that’s uncaring and cruel.” The problem isn’t uncaring health professionals or even heartless insurance companies, although I have my doubts that the accountants and actuaries operating most insurance operations have anything remotely resembling heart or compassion. The problem is that to deal with life-threatening diseases and conditions that were an automatic death sentence fifty years ago, medicine has become high-tech and expensive, even when pared down to cut-rate costs. Another problem is the cost of malpractice insurance, because in some specialties, malpractice insurance is the largest single expense for a physician, sometimes costing more than the doctor takes home for himself or herself.

Several years ago, my wife shattered her leg and ankle in a freak hiking accident on a very moderate trail. For a complicated, but relatively common surgery and a plate and screws in her leg, the total cost was almost as much as the average annual American worker’s yearly income. That was for something that is comparatively simple in medical terms. Other medical procedures that deal with life-threatening conditions are far more expensive. Cancer surgery and treatments appear to start at over $100,000 and climb rapidly. When somewhere over 40 million Americans don’t have any form of health insurance, wide-spread use of “pay-before-treatment” is effectively a death sentence for those who cannot find a hospital willing to treat them without a healthy deposit, and the numbers of hospitals who will do so — or that can afford to — is rapidly shrinking.

Non-profit hospitals have seen their unpaid bills pile up. Some have unpaid bills totaling $30 million to $50 million annually, up from a tenth of that two or three years ago. They’ve also discovered that collecting on such bills is often impossible. After all, if you don’t make the house payment or the car payment, the lender can foreclose and take them back. What sort of threat can a hospital make? They can refuse future treatment, but they can’t take back their treatment.

If they don’t collect on these bills, then people who can pay their bills — and their insurance companies — will pay more. That has already raised insurance costs and out-of-pocket costs for the financially able, and is likely to fuel future cost increases as well as make health insurance more expensive and less affordable for working Americans. If the government ends up picking up the losses, taxpayers end up paying the bill. All of the increased costs aren’t going to the doctors, nurses, and technicians, but also fund research, more and more elaborate equipment, and insurance.

There’s another fact that complicates matters more. Statistics released last week show that, for the first time, life expectancies are declining in the poorer U.S. counties. While statistics are not readily available, I suspect that in metropolitan areas, the group that may suffer the most is not necessarily those labeled as poor who receive government assistance and Medicaid, but those who earn just enough not to receive health care. For the past half-century, most Americans have taken health care as fairly much a given, but now, for a growing number, it’s not a given, and, equally to the point, regardless of all the political rhetoric, there not only isn’t a simple solution, there may not be one that allows more than basic health care for most Americans — and that may well result in the kind of future that Joe Haldeman suggested in one version of The Forever War — where virtually no medical care was available for the extreme elderly. Given the nature of advanced medical treatments and the resources required, it appears more and more likely that the most advanced medical care will only be universally available to the affluent, just as Gunn forecast over forty years ago… unthinkable as that was then, and certainly still is.

All Hail…

This afternoon, Saturday, May third, right after the completion of the 134th Kentucky Derby, the filly Eight Belles, who finished second, broke both front ankles and collapsed. The injuries were so severe that the runner-up had to be euthanized on the spot. NBC Sports, which covered the event, spent less than two minutes dealing with the tragic death of the filly, instead concentrating through the remaining 30 minutes of the telecast on interviews with the winning jockey, trainer, and owners, and showing at least three recaps of the race.

To me, that symbolized a certain emphasis that has overtaken the United States, and possibly the entire modern technological age — the focus on winning to the near-total exclusion of anything else. I’m not taking anything away from Big Brown, the winning horse. But he will live to race another day and probably survive to a ripe old age in stud in some green pasture. For Eight Belles, there are no other days.

For Eight Belles, all that remains, at best, is a hurried grave, if that, and a fleeting memory of a gallant race.

I’ve already heard words that her race and death was a metaphor for the efforts of women to achieve some sort of equality in society — a gallant race where they come off in second place, followed by death. Is that harsh? Perhaps… but I’m not so certain that it’s all that extreme.

And I’m absolutely convinced that the NBC coverage pattern is all too typical of the media, and possibly our entire societal focus — all honors and praise to the winner, no matter how he won, and but a fleeting mention of all the other gallant struggles that didn’t end in success. And then all the so-called pundits wonder why life seems to have gotten cheaper by the year, why business and politics have become ever more cut-throat, while reality TV gets higher and higher reviews, and while “gentler” sports and pursuits, the arts, and even reading, seem to fade.

Or, as I’m doubtless misquoting someone, “Winning isn’t everything; it’s the only thing.”

All hail, great media caesars, for those who die and are forgotten are about to salute you.

Of Sacred Poets and Sacredness

Years ago, Isaac Asimov wrote one of his columns in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction on the subject of the role of “sacred poets” — the idea that poetry immortalizes and dramatizes in a way no other aspect of human culture does. He actually took the term “sacred poet” from the Latin poet Horace, who had used it in pointing out that there were other heroes besides those immortalized in Homer’s Iliad, but they had lapsed into nothingness because they lacked a “sacred poet.” Asimov also made the point that even bad poetry has resulted in creating immortality, while often creating a false impression of history, such as in the case of Longfellow’s poem about Paul Revere’s ride, which leaves the impression that Revere was the hero who warned the Massachusetts colonists about the British, when in actuality Revere never completed the ride and the colonists in Concord were actually warned by Samuel Prescott. Yet most Americans who know anything about this part of American history remember Revere, not Prescott.

Rhythmic words, especially when coupled with music, indeed can have a powerful effect, but such “sacred” songs also require something beyond well-chosen rhymed words and music. They require knowledge and understanding of the events portrayed by the words and music. The more popular religion-based sacred songs rest on scripture and doctrine, but the more secular “sacred” songs [a juxtaposition that seems strange, but accurate in the sense described by Horace and Asimov] are based on history.

Thus, the Iliad is merely a long epic poem to those American students who even know anything about it, while it was effectively a “sacred poem” to the Athenians of Greece in the fourth century B.C. “The Star Spangled Banner” is a sacred song to most Americans, in addition to being the national anthem of the United States, but what is often forgotten is that it did not actually become the official national anthem until 1931, more than 117 years after it was composed during the bombardment of Fort McHenry during the War of 1812. It became the national anthem because it was a “sacred” song that linked history to the national emblem — the flag — not a “sacred” song because it was the national anthem.

Because the continued impact of sacred songs and texts depend on not only words and possibly music, but upon knowledge, they may fade into obscurity when the knowledge is lost, or disregarded, or minimalized by later generations. Songs such as “Blowin’ in the Wind” or “One Tin Soldier” were close to “sacred” songs for the young people of the Vietnam era, but they quickly faded. Today, it appears that there aren’t any replacements, not even of that nature.

What is also interesting is that the Iliad, as a sacred poem, was essentially book length. Such “sacred” songs as “America the Beautiful,” “The Star Spangled Banner,” and “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” are far shorter. The lyrics of the Vietnam-era songs were about the same in length, but were simpler and more repetitive. What people seem to remember — as a group, not as individuals — today seems to be confined to slogans, advertising slogans in particular.

Could it be that the death of “sacred” songs, texts, and poets will lie in the inability of people to listen to anything of length or complexity? Or will it lie in a cynicism that suggests that there’s little worth in “sacred” texts, regardless of the fusion of text, rhythm, and music? Or will such poems, songs, and texts just be replaced by consumeristic slogans?