JJ Litke

the neural pathways less traveled

You are the traffic

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This Jezebel article made the social media rounds recently. Summary: a woman discovered when she queried her novel under a male name, she had a much higher rate of requests and positive feedback.

No surprise here. But here’s the frustrating part—everyone is either blaming her for her “deceit” or pretending that the problem lies with others, not themselves. Let’s tackle that first one, because it’s easy. She used a fake name. And? This smacks of a guy getting caught cheating after his girlfriend went through his phone messages screaming about the violation of his privacy. It’s a tactic to divert from the much more serious issue. This argument makes you sound like a tool.

On to the next part, setting blame on everyone else and taking none for yourself.

Here’s the point: you’re not stuck in traffic—you are the traffic.

By Erum Patel (originally posted to Flickr as Las Vegas Traffic), via Wikimedia Commons

Every person in every one of those cars wants to get somewhere. Individually, they only cause a tiny little bit of road blockage. Collectively, they’re a traffic jam. But they are all contributing to that jam.

It’s the same with bias. One person’s little prejudices aren’t killing fairness and equity all by themselves. It’s the collective of them that creates the traffic jam.

Oh, but not you. You aren’t prejudiced.

Bullshit. You’re not perfect and you know it. Somewhere down in your coal black little heart you harbor some buried prejudice against women who take their husbands’ last names, or women who don’t, or women who write articles about that issue because you think it’s stupid either way. Or maybe your prejudice is about guys turn their gimme caps backward, or wear baggy jeans, or skinny jeans. Maybe you don’t like cat people, or dog people, and oh look, I haven’t even mentioned race yet (because damn, is that a loaded topic). But the cold hard truth is, you do have prejudices. If you didn’t, you’d be perfect, and while I’m sure you’re a lovely person and we should get together for whiskey shots sometime, you know you are not perfect. Neither am I (though I am a lovely person and we really should get together for those shots).

But the point is, the more you deny you have any biases, the more you contribute to the overall climate that allows prejudice to persist.

Say it with me now: I am the problem. You are the problem. We are all the problem. No one gets a pass out of this.

Here’s what I do about it. Instead of assuming I’m not biased, I assume I am and look for it. That’s the only way to catch it. Ignoring it or pretending it’s not there won’t do any good. If you do this right, it will hurt. Assuming the worst of yourself can really suck, but the more you do it, the easier it gets.

And rest assured, every time you lie to yourself and think you are not part of the problem, you make the problem bigger.

So this is how we begin to fight prejudice. We stop hiding it. We stop imagining it’s something in other people and not ourselves. Instead of pretending you don’t see color or gender (seriously, don’t say such asinine things), make sure you are policing yourself as hard as you want to police others.

So what about those openly prejudiced people, the racists, misogynists, transphobics, and general haters? Well if the rest of us who actually don’t want a racist/misogynist/transphobic/hater society would get our shit together and put serious effort into making sure we aren’t contributing to the problem even subconsciously, don’t you think that would go a long way toward minimizing their power? The problem is, we still aren’t doing even that much.

And let me know about the whiskey shots, I’ll meet you at the bar.

It doesn’t have to be whiskey, actually, I like red wine, too.

Peter S. Beagle and the art of listening

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I met Peter S. Beagle yesterday. He was doing a book signing at Sherwood Forest Faire outside of Austin. The setting was perfect for getting a chance to really talk to him, since it went on through the day, as opposed to the signings that funnel you through a fast-paced line and give you all of thirty seconds to talk to the author. Not only did I get to meet him, I talked to him at length. Or rather, I listened to him at length, which is even better.

I saw a number of other people interact with him as well. Some of them really wanted to tell him things, like about how much they loved his books, or the movie The Last Unicorn. And he seemed just as happy to hear their stories as they were to tell them.

When we arrived, my husband and I did something that’s usually taboo at book signings: we brought a book we already owned with us, hoping to get it signed. It wasn’t even a book Beagle had written. It was a first edition of The Tolkien Reader, for which Beagle wrote the foreword. I was fully prepared for him refuse to sign it, but as soon as he saw it, he launched into a story about Ian Ballentine staying at his house and how the foreword came to be a part of the book. He then asked if we wanted him to sign it. And all this before we even picked up any of the books for sale. If you’ve ever been to a big signing, you know how unusual all that is.

We couldn't have it signed by Tolkien, after all.

But it gets better. As we started going through other books, he kept on talking, telling more bits of stories. Eventually, people started queuing up, and we thanked him for his time and left. Through the day, I noticed that at times that the line at his table was substantial.

Late in the afternoon, we walked past again, and at that moment, there was no one by the table. We walked back up, thinking to thank him again before leaving. But he didn’t let us go that easily. He started telling us more stories. One was about the love of his life who passed away two years ago (part of the story was so romantic I had to struggle back tears, but it’s not my story to tell, so I won’t repeat it here). At some point, I had a dizzying thought about how amazing this moment was. We were standing with the legendary Peter S. Beagle, and he was telling us stories about his life as if there was nothing on earth he’d rather be doing.

By the end, after some discussion about his coming appearances (in Canada, which for logistical reasons I won’t be able to attend), he told us, “We’ll see each other again.” And he said it with such certainly that I absolutely believe we will.

Authors are natural storytellers, and that often means that they enjoy talking. Being a good listener, in some fashion at least, is also a requirement. Naturally, there were things I wanted to tell Peter S. Beagle, just as others there did. After all, I’m about to start querying my first book, and making connections in the publishing industry is very important to me right now. But sometimes, you need to recognize the point at which you should shut the hell up and listen. Especially in a case like this. The more we listened, the more he talked. And I got far more out of the entire experience for that than if I had tried to turn it into something else.

If you get the chance to meet Peter S. Beagle, I highly recommend it. And if you demonstrate a willingness to listen, you might get a lot out of the encounter. Try to listen at least as much, if not more, than you talk. And then try carrying that forward into other parts of your life. You learn more that way.

Retribution bullying is still bullying

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You may have seen the case of Lynn Shepherd and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Attitude article, in which she suggests that J.K. Rowling stop writing adult fiction and give other writers a chance already. It’s no surprise that negative reaction ensued. Shepherd’s non-apology didn’t do much to help, at least in part because it was so disingenuous—if your intent is to highlight how tough it is for new writers to get noticed, you really need to write about that instead of trashing a well-known writer. If Shepherd genuinely thought she was writing about what she claimed, it’s evidence that she’s really not very good at writing, because that’s not the message anyone seemed to get.

Then, the backlash. Rowling fans mercilessly trashed Shepherd in return and left one-star reviews of her books. Books they have not read, just as Shepherd admitted she had not read Rowling’s before dissing them. Okay, here I have to admit I found that pretty damn funny. What comes around, goes around, right? Except part of the justification people used for doing that is it was unfair when Shepherd did it. So, when Shepherd did it, it was wrong, but when they did it, it was retribution and therefore justified.

And you know where I’m going with this because you’re a decent person with morals. You don’t get to twist your morals around and do something you know is wrong just because now you’re the one doing it to someone else. It’s that old “two wrongs don’t make a right” thing.

This is just the most recent example of people using bullying as a retribution tactic. It happens with a startling degree of regularity. People are really good at justifying their own horrible actions. I’m a good person, so the things I do aren’t bad. They’re just. Yeah, but, no. It doesn’t work that way.

This is part of the scary truth behind why we can’t eliminate bullying. Bullies almost never think they’re bullying. They think they’re justified, for whatever twisted reasons they can come up with to justify it. But let me assure you, no matter who you are, no matter how Good or Right you believe yourself to be, you are absolutely capable of becoming that bully. The more you think you are not, the more likely you are to do it, because you won’t examine your real motives, or the results of your actions.

So, what, we’re supposed to let people get away with their crappy behavior? No, frustrated do-gooder, I’m not suggesting that. And incidentally, I share your frustration, it sucks when you feel like someone is getting one over on us. What we should do is what we all said that Shepherd should have done–state our opinions without insults and think through the consequences before we speak. We need to strive to meet the standard we expect from others.

If only Shepherd had done that, she wouldn’t have so many people angry at her now.

The ways in which we are wrong

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The current rounds of controversy started with the petition aimed at SFWA. It continued with attacks against Mary Robinette Kowal on sff.net. Rather than rehash the issue directly (which is being done plenty already), I’ll attack the argument itself.

This is the exact text in question, by Sean P. Fodera, directed at Kowal:

I find it very funny and ironic that she would jump on this bandwagon. For
a long time, her website featured an array of photos of her in a diaphanous
white outfit, posing on a beach. No metal bikinis or such, but they were not
innocuous writer headshots either. One of them, with her recumbent on the sand
with legs exposed, made her somewhat attractive. I also recall she’s fond of
wearing tight-fitting gowns and plunging necklines when she attends cons and
award ceremonies.

I’ll have to add “phony” to “incompetent” and “arrogant” in the mental tags
I’ve assigned her.

What, you may ask, does her choice of clothing have to do with what she believes about the content of the SFWA’s member newsletter? The correct answer is: nothing. Of course it has nothing to do with it. What we see here is an example of a logical fallacy, in which Fodera attempts to discredit Kowal’s credibility on the basis that her clothing is not respectable enough. (Note that he does not describe his own clothing as a counter to why he is more credible.) There are also strong elements of cognitive bias going in these arguments.

By the way, that “legs exposed” bit in there refers to the fact that her ankles were showing. Her. Ankles. I’m not kidding.

Kowal’s defenders have posted statements and screeds attaching many fine traits to her. Which is great, and I’m glad that she’s getting support. At the same time, I’m uncomfortable with how we’re all leaping to that side of it. Did you see that I just did it myself above? I pointed out that the photos in question weren’t the slutty pics that Fodera implied they were. I caught myself writing it and then left it in just to make this point:

It shouldn’t matter what a woman wears. It shouldn’t matter whether she’s well-liked. But there it is, and we’re still judging women by a different standard than we’re judging men.

And we’re doing it even when we’re on the “right” side of the issue.

We’ve still got a long way to go.

Incidentally, Sean Fodera posted a threat to sue everyone who linked to that Daily Dot article. If you do, Mr. Fodera, please include me, because I could really use the publicity, and I’m pretty sure such a lawsuit will hurt you a whole hell of a lot more than it will hurt me.

Don’t call me a good girl

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When something sneaks into your awareness, you start seeing it everywhere. That’s happening to me with the good girl tag in pop songs. And every time I hear it, I hate it a little more.

It seems so innocent. It’s supposed to be a compliment, even. How could good be bad? Because it stratifies women into the Madonna-whore divide. The moment a woman slips from her pedestal, she ceases to be worthy of respect and becomes a filthy whore.

This is actually part of a broader problem in people’s black-and-white view. There are good people, and there are bad people. If you see yourself as good (as virtually everyone does) then the things you do are not bad, no matter how far beyond the bounds of standard behavior. This relates to the concept of bounded ethicality, when “good” people twist the definitions of ethics to justify their own wrongdoing. The really insidious thing about this mindset is how it blinds people from their own behavior–if I am a good person, then nothing I do is actually bad. Nothing.

The other side of this–circling all the way back to where I started–is the idea that if a person does something wrong, I can label them as bad. Now I can freely vilify them. They are bad, they don’t deserve respect. I can treat them however I want. It is, in fact, a just thing for good me to punish bad them.

No one believes they’re bad or evil. I’ve seen this in action over and over. Good students cheating. Good people taking advantage of friends. On a higher level, nations attacking preemptively out of a perceived need for self-preservation. It happens all the time, and it is us. There is no them. We are the ones who control morality by twisting our crimes into need. We are the ones who believe the ends justify the means.

Don’t call me a good girl. Right behind that is the implication that if I falter, even a little, you’re going to cast me in the role of bad. I’m not that simple or one-dimensional. And neither are you, no matter how much you desperately want to believe you are one of the good guys.

Birthdays mark the beginning

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Humans have been celebrating birthdays for nearly as long as we’ve had reliable calendars. The oldest known birthday invitation was discovered as part of the Vindolanda tablets, which are the oldest existing handwritten documents in Britain (you can see images of it and read the original and translated text here, and you really should check it out). The Romans also had a sad custom of waiting several days after their birth to acknowledge and name babies, presumably due to high infant mortality.

We count our ages based on when we were born. It’s acknowledged to be when our lives begin, both legally and socially (except for in cultures like ancient Rome, and I think we can all be glad we didn’t live then). It’s not even an issue in question as far as legal standing goes. The IRS requires that someone actually be born alive to qualify for exemptions. They do allow ongoing exemptions for kidnapped children, even if they are never recovered. The point here is, the U.S. government recognizes that live birth must occur before a being is considered alive. Socially, this is also true, and birthday celebrations and age reckoning are the solid evidence.

No matter what claims you may make to the contrary, you have accepted and actively participated in this system. A system that has existed for thousands of years of human history. And you did it because—whether you want it to be this way or not—it is a truism.

Life begins at birth.