Len's News, Notes, and Stuff

Government is Slow Because We’ve Made It Slow

There is an old saying that the camel is a horse designed by committee.  Committees and “stakeholder engagement” are de rigeur in government.  They are a large part of the reason why government is widely recognized as a slow, lumbering beast.  Unfortunately, in a democratically-elected, representative system of government, I’m not sure that it could be otherwise.

If you want something done quickly, my insider advice to you is something you already know: Don’t ask government to do it. It’ll take forever.

My most recent experience with this systemic inability to act quickly has been in relation to the government response to the earthquake in Haiti and its aftermath.  I will not say anything about the specific details or the parties involved, but I’ll tell you enough to make a point here.  It isn’t a matter of sending assistance to Haiti, as that is something led by the federal government.  For the provincial government, its ministries and its agencies, the issue is one of being able to take care of folks being repatriated to Ontario.

At this point, 2 weeks after the earthquake, the repatriation efforts are pretty much done.  There are less than 60 Canadians left to fly back here.  Yet, the provincial ministries have yet to finalize the development of a few items intended to make the repatriation experience smoother and better for those folks returning to Ontario.  By the time this thing is done, the repatriation efforts will have been finished a long time ago.  Heck, by this point, Haiti has officially moved from search-and-recovery (SAR) efforts to recovery efforts.

The government has missed the boat on this one because every ministry had to have input, executives in multiple places had to approve, and finally Cabinet Office (the office of the Premier) had to take a final look and approval. Every party involved has valid, legal authority and jurisdiction to dispute something and stall progress until it’s ironed out.

The product in question now is far from ideal.  It’s got everything thrown into it, but not in a way that necessarily leads to a better product.  It’s a camel, whereas the committee was originally convened to design a racehorse. Worst of all, the camel is coming off the production line after the race is already over.

The two primary sources of this all-too-common government inability to act quickly is that the voting public will not permit government to make any mistakes, no matter how minor.

People make mistakes.  Unfortunately, as far as the voting public is concerned, government and leaders are not allowed to make any.  If they do, they will be drawn and quartered and raked over the coals in the media and in water cooler discussions.  (I’ve heard a similar quote about chefs in restaurants – they’re allowed to be assholes, but they’re not allowed to have assholes.  Nobody likes to think about the reality that even chefs have to go to the washroom during working hours.)

Because of the penalty that we, the voting public, have put on mistakes made by government and by politicians, government is insanely risk-averse.  It is almost better to do nothing than to do the wrong thing.  It is almost better to say nothing than to say the wrong thing.

General Patton, truly a man of action, once said that “A good plan (violently) executed now is better than a perfect plan executed next week.”

Something good now is worth infinitely more than something perfect too late.

Unfortunately, the risk aversion that the contemporary democratic environment has instilled in government has made government almost entirely incapable of executing something good quickly. It will wait until there is something perfect – or at least perfect deemed by those who have the authority to sign off and say, “Go ahead.”

Well, in terms of our response to Ontarians being repatriated from Haiti, we’re ending up with something “perfect” but way too late.

Democracy is one big committee. It’s never going to be fast, and it probably will never design something of racehorse-caliber. We’ll just have to wrap our heads around that fact, and the fact that some things can only – indeed, must only – be done by government.

Chasing the Triangle – Sound Systems Keep Failing My Audio System Torture Test

For the past 4 years, I have been chasing a triangle.  4 years ago, I experienced sublime aural pleasure that I have, unfortunately, been unable to repeat.  I have been unable to hear the triangle in Bond’s Hungarian Rhapsody.

I’m not a musical purist.  I don’t know how to read music.  I can’t tell you how Conductor A with The Acme Symphonic Orchestra sounds different from Conductor B with the Booville Philharmonic.  I played one damn note when I found myself behind a French horn in highschool music class.  After 2 years, including 2 months of early-morning remedial/punitive music practice, no matter what I did my horn made the same uninspiring blaaaaaat.

No, I am not a musical purist, but I derive intense pleasure from excellent music.  I demand crystal clear highs, and clear, powerful lows.  I demand angelic treble, and demonic bass.  I demand a musical experience that immerses me in the sounds of the music.

4 years ago, I hooked up my then-new high-end Sony headset to a computer system with some arcane sound card whose name I don’t even remember now.  I had the computer on overnight playing a variety of tunes to break in my headset to ensure the best quality sound I could get from it.  The next morning, I played one of my reference tracks, a lovely, full, and complex neo-classical track by the British quartet, Bond.

I closed my eyes and just listened to Hungarian Rhapsody.  I heard the instruments all around me.  I heard, of course, the strings front and centre.  But I heard everything else as well.  Most notably, I heard a triangle dinging from the back of the orchestra.  TINGGGGG!  It was sharp, it was clear.  It was unmistakable.  I could hear the triangle’s quiet ting die out gradually after each hit, and each time it was hit anew I heard it cry out with absolute clarity.

I have not heard that triangle since that day.  I have not found a sound system that will replicate the absolute clarity of sound from the lowest bass to the highest treble.  I have not found a sound system that will reproduce the sound of that triangle tinging in the back of the orchestra.

I’m not talking about not hearing it because it’s been muddied.  I’m talking about not hearing it because, as far as the sound systems I’ve tried since then, it doesn’t exist.  Had I never heard the triangle myself, I would not believe it was even there.

I have good sound equipment.  Not the best, mind you.  Not yet.  But my headset was a good $400 unit, and my earbuds are good $300 units.  I did extensive research before choosing my two MP3 players, neither of which is an iPod, in order to obtain maximum sound quality.  I have two very nice stereo systems in my home.  Yet, nothing I have will replicate the triangle.

To this day, I still run what I call the Audio System Torture Test when I test new sound systems, or when I set up a system to sound its best.

I run the following:

• Charlotte Church’s Mary’s Boy Child
• ATB’s 9PM
• Bond’s Hungarian Rhapsody

Charlotte Church has (or perhaps more properly, had) an excellent singing voice.  She was young, so in some places she sounds a little unpolished.  But be that as it may, she had excellent highs in her vocal range – clear, in control, and reasonably powerful.  Mary’s Boy Child is what I use to test how well a sound system can handle the human voice and how well it handles treble.

ATB’s 9PM is what I use to test bass.  There are plenty of good, modern tracks to test bass, but I know this track.  I know what it sounds like on excellent systems.  Plus, it has a good, strong dose of treble in it as well – and best of all, at the beginning of the track, it’s treble, followed by relatively pure, uncluttered bass.  It’s good for testing out what a system can do for contemporary, or as I prefer, techno/trance music.

Bond’s Hungarian Rhapsody is the combined torture test for a sound system.  It’s all there.  The bass is there, the treble is there, and best of all, the track is complicated.  There are lots of instruments involved in a high-tempo, high-energy environment.  How well can a sound system keep up with the demands of treble, of bass, and still keep everything separated, clear, and enjoyable?

One of my stereos at home reproduces the clear trebles of sopranos excellently.  My other stereo reproduces bass in a way that gets me smiling every time.  Neither passes my Audio system Torture Test.  Neither of my MP3 players, lauded as they may be (as far as stock, unaugmented MP3 players go) by serious audiophiles, even comes close to passing the test.

In fact, nothing I have put to the test in the past 4 years has passed.  Nothing since that heavenly combination of computer, sound card, and my Sony headset has stood up to the challenge.

Indeed, very simply, nothing has replicated the triangle.  I have not heard it since.

And I miss it.

He Who Controls Images, Controls People

With all the recent buzz on the Internet and elsewhere about Google’s impending pull-out from China, much mention has been made of the censored content that Google.cn presents to users in China.  Control of information is fundamental to totalitarian control of people.  For that reason, Google.cn could not present, for example, images of the 1989 Tiananmen Square crackdown.  If you Googled Tiananmen Square on Google.cn, apparently all you’d see are nice, postcard-like images of the Square.  For a public space whose name means the Square of Heavenly Peace, surely such tranquil, benign images of this historic space are messages unto themselves.

I came upon an interesting quote today, from a book about the Roman Empire.

Power is a far more complex and mysterious quality than any apparently simple manifestation of it would appear.  It is as much a matter of impression, of theatre, of persuading those over whom authority is wielded to collude in their subjugation.  Insofar as power is a matter of presentation, its cultural currency in antiquity (and still today) was the creation, manipulation, and display of images.

When I read this, I thought immediately of the CCP-enforced censorship of Tiananmen Square images on Google.cn, and China’s celebrations of the 60th Anniversary of the CCP’s claim to the imperial throne.

On the one hand, the central public space of the capital of the massive country of China is presented online as tranquil, calm, and majestic – with no indications that at any time it was otherwise.  On the other hand, a parade of military formations and hardware to show physical strength, resolve, and mastery.  The message is that the Party, and by implication the country, is strong and that this strength is used to further peace and to benefit the people.

Is that truly the case?  Many people outside the dominion of the CCP, and some within it, would say it is not.  Yet, as the marketing saying goes, perception is reality – and by controlling imagery, the CCP controls perception within its realm.

History is replete with patterns that repeat themselves.  The reason is simple.  The one constant element throughout history is human nature, and all of its strengths and weaknesses.  One element that plays on both sides of the coin is this: He who controls images, controls people.

Racism Isn’t Just White vs Non-White

Racism is a pernicious beast.  It rears its head in corners of society that, while not necessarily in the shadows, certainly isn’t where “we”, as a mainstream, would necessarily expect it.  I speak here as a Chinese Canadian, born here in Canada, with friends of all sorts who tell me stories of all sorts.

Usually when the issue of racism is brought up in North America, it is an issue of white vs black or vs asian or vs middle-eastern or vs south asian or vs whomever.  Essentially, racism is taken by default to be white vs non-white.

But that’s not really how racism works.  To believe that it is only white vs non-white would be to underestimate its perniciousness, its darkness, its robustness, and its relationship with the human psyche.

Humans must, at some level, categorize an Us and a Them.  It’s how we make sense of the world.  It used to be Us = those in our village and family.  Now Us = whatever we decide it to be.  Us could be an affinity group, for instance ecological activists, or those of a particular political bent, or those with or without money.  The Us vs Them distinction need not be based on anything intrinsic about people.

But it can be.

And often is.

There is, of course, white vs nonwhite racism.  But there is also yellow vs black racism.  There is yellow vs brown racism.  There is brown vs black racism.  There is yellow vs yellow racism.  There is brown vs brown racism.  There is black vs black racism.  And of course there is white vs white racism.

Our cultures are different.  White, yellow, black, brown, those are the different colors of our skin.  It is easy, however, to take as a proxy where we come from, what our ancestry may be, and extrapolate meaning and significance that is not there.  Wherever there is some difference, however small, it can and very likely is used as a distinction between Us and Them by someone, somewhere.

Asia is racist.  Europe is racist.  North America is racist.  I have personally seen or heard things in each of these continents to know that there exists some form and degree of racist thinking in some, or even most, of the population.  It isn’t a white vs non-white issue.

I was at a Chinese cultural event yesterday, and I saw a little girl about 5 years old happily scampering into the building.  Right behind her was a blonde lady – clearly not Chinese.  Yet, what I saw and heard in those few moments before I walked by led me to believe that the lady is the little girl’s adoptive mother.  Is there an Us vs Them in that family?  I don’t think so.

During the performance, which was admittedly a little long, the kids in the audience got restless.  Do you know what I heard all around me?  English.  The kids are Chinese, but they were born here in Canada.  Their parents speak to them in Chinese and they understand it, but they default to English.  Where is the Us vs Them?  In the darkness of the theatre, hearing their little voices speaking to their parents in perfect English, you would never have known whether they were yellow, white, brown, or black.

The need to make Us vs Them distinctions runs deep in human nature.  That’s just how it is.  But we are sentient, intelligent beings capable of thought and choice.  We choose the distinctions that we make.  There is no reason for the distinctions to be based on skin color, language, or heritage.  There is no reason for distinctions to be made based on race.

But some people still do.  Many people do.  It is not, in any way, limited to those of us with white skin.

It’s True: Japanese Cooking Knives will Spoil You

I finally realized yesterday that I have been permanently spoiled by my Japanese cooking knives.  I can’t look at a German knife quite the same way ever again.  Not that it’s about the look, it’s about the feel.

For now, I’m going to limit myself to the chef’s knife.  This knife is the core of many chefs’ toolkits, and given my Western culinary training, it is the knife I go to most often.  It is said that 90% of the work that North Americans will do in the kitchen can be accomplished with the chef’s knife – the other 9.5% with the paring knife, and 0.5% with whatever specialty knives you might have.  I think that’s true.

Although the Western chef’s knife and the Japanese gyuto are technically different beasts, for all practical intents and purposes, they are exactly the same.  The gyuto was designed based on the French and German chef knifes.  These are your 8″ to 12″ cooking knives, though expressed in millimeters for the J-knives (210mm to 300m).  Typically 8″ is the largest you’l find in a knife block set, and I’m willing to bet it’s the largest most people have.

One of my favorite knives until lately has been my Henckels 210mm/8″ chef’s knife.  I feel very comfortable with that thing.  I’ve hand-sharpened it to the best of my abilities.  It is, in my opinion, noticeably sharper than any of my friends’ knives.  It is fun to use.

But lately I’ve been starting to spend more time with some of my gyutos.  Most often these days, I’ve been reaching for my 240mm Tanaka gyuto.  This isn’t even close to top-of-the-line, but it is a very well made VG-10 stainless steel gyuto.  It is thinner and lighter than my Henckels.  As of yesterday, when I finally realized how spoiled I have become, I fully acknowledged that it is sharper, more nimble, and yes, more comfortable.

I was doing something very simple.  I was cutting up a huge pile of cherry tomatoes with my trusty Henckels  for my pasta dish when something just felt … odd.  My favorite piece of German steel felt oddly like the proverbial battle-axe that I had long heard other J-knife aficionados talking about.  It felt a little clumsy.  It felt a little unwieldy.  It felt like a crude instrument rather than a precision tool, like a construction worker dancing on stage rather than a prima ballerina.

My best German steel, one that I had so lovingly cared for and had long considered my workhorse, was no longer the star performer that I had always felt it to be.  I had to acknowledge to myself, once and for all, that my middle-of-the-road gyuto was dancing circles around my Henckels.

I will still use my heretofore-beloved 210mm Henckels.  I have to specify it like that because I do have a 260mm Henckels chef knife (which, really is a battle-axe and not at all for precision work) and a 190mm Henckels santoku.  I wills till use my 210mm Henckels for certain jobs, because it is still relatively nimble, and it rocks better on the cutting board than my gyutos.

If I want to rock cut on the cutting board, I will use my trusty Henckels.  You may wonder why it rocks better.  The answer is very simple, actually.  The Henckels, made as sharp as I know how to on a series of quality whetstones, is not sharp enough to catch in the wood fibers of my cutting board, and will slide just a bit to let me rotate the blade a few degrees on the board as I rock and cut.  Not so with my J-knives.  They are sharp enough to bite right into the wood without any effort.

That would explain why the asian way to use gyutos tends to be push-cut rather than rock-cut: their run-of-the-mill knives are so much sharper than top German knives.  Once you use Japanese steel in the kitchen, you won`t want to go back.

Trust me, Japanese knives will spoil you.

And that, my friends, is an intensely pleasurable thing if you are the sort who likes to cook!