bearing blog


bear – ing n 1  the manner in which one comports oneself;  2  the act, power, or time of bringing forth offspring or fruit; 3 a machine part in which another part turns [a journal ~];  pl comprehension of one’s position, environment, or situation;   5  the act of moving while supporting the weight of something [the ~ of the cross].


  • Homeschooling in the afternoon.

    I need a break from the gluttony posts, so I am going to do a homeschooling poll/bleg.

    You know how there is this sort of unstated Standard of Good Homeschoolers that we all believe in, where you get up bright and early, start right after breakfast, and finish it all early so the kids have the afternoon to play and relax?

    We don’t do this. Never have been able to. We often don’t finish till 4 or 5. I don’t deal well with other people early in the morning, and I need a big break in the middle of the day.

    Who else is like me? Who likes afternoon school better than morning school? How do you get everybody going in the afternoon and ready for work?


  • Securing the food supply.

    A phrase in my last gluttony post fairly jumped out at me today as I re-read it over my eggs Benedict.

    …[I]t is possible to become, out of habit, so psychologically deranged with respect to food that one begins unnecessarily violating social norms and the demands of duty and charity in order to secure one's food supply (when in fact the food necessary to support health is not at risk).  

    The phrase is "to secure one's food supply."

    It jumped out at me because it so perfectly encapsulates the constant feeling of need I used to have, all the fretting about my next snack or my next meal, before I got better, before the weight came off.  It sums up perfectly the remnants, almost like flashbacks, that I still have once in a while — the sudden urges that I've learned to dismiss (most of the time), the odd tendencies I still have to fret about whether I've bought enough for the dinner guests.  

    Back when I was heavy, I was always trying to secure my food supply.

    Never mind that my food supply was not at risk; I had a constant feeling that I had to secure my food supply.

    + + +

    Once I remember feeling faint at school and being taken to the cafeteria — I remember sitting there with my saltine crackers and paper cup of juice, feeling naughty and special for being out of class.

    That used to happen a lot:  the bottom would fall out of my brain and I couldn't think until I got something to eat.  A strange panic would rise, and I would go looking for food.   Within a few bites of, say, a cheeseburger, I would feel oddly soothed, relieved; but the panicky feeling wouldn't go away until I no longer felt the slightest twinge of anything that resembled hunger.  I would have to eat until I literally felt full before I felt safe.

    This would happen between meals.

    At meals there was never any question of stopping before I was stuffed. I hated that feeling of "head-hungry," not being able to concentrate; it always hit long before I felt "stomach-hungry."  I tried to prevent it by eating in advance.

    + + +

    Though this is the first time I've lit upon this phrase, I've known about this problem for a long time.   One of my very first gluttony/weight loss posts on this blog, "What's wrong with me," identified the problem as "an  irrational fear of getting hungry:"

    Consider the evidence: 

    • I tend to "stock up" at meals by eating extra.  I catch myself explicitly thinking, "I'd better eat more now so I won't get hungry later."  
    • There are certain foods that I eat compulsively if they are just sitting around as leftovers, even if they don't taste very good to me. Never sweets, always carbohydrates, great for packing in as many calories as possible in a short period of time.  White rice; plain pasta; tortilla chips; dry cereal; white bread; pizza; saltine crackers.  I can still eat a whole sleeve of saltine crackers, no problem.  (No wonder going low carb helped me.  Eliminating these things from my house was a good thing.)  
    • I rely on external cues to tell me how much to eat.  If people around me are eating, I do too.  If there's still food on the table, I have another helping.  If something will be thrown out if I don't eat it, I eat some.
    • I get very antsy on road trips as mealtime approaches, if we haven't yet planned when and where we're going to stop for the next meal. 
    • I get irrationally irritated when I'm over at someone's house for dinner and dinner is delayed for some reason.  I have to squelch the urge to keep asking, "So, when's dinner going to be ready?"   I mean, I know it makes me a terrible guest, so I do my best, but it's really hard!
    • My friends who dine with me regularly will tell you that whenever I am responsible for feeding a crowd, I am very preoccupied with there being "enough" food. Either I make too much, or I start apologizing for it the minute people arrive. "Erin!  Chill out!  If we get hungry we'll make some sandwiches!"  Doesn't matter.  Hostess anxiety is my lot in life.
    • Oh, and then there's this recurring dream I keep having where someone gives me piles and piles of food and I know that I have to eat it.  The menu, the reason I have to eat the stuff, and the setting varies (buffet restaurant; friend's house; interview luncheon), but the theme is always there.  I have had this dream for as long as I can remember, maybe five or six times a year. 

    Ready to psychoanalyze me yet?  Look, you can call it "gluttony" if you want.  I won't shy away from that term.  It is a self-centered way to be, I'm tired of it, and I'd be a better person if I overcame it.

    Obviously I long ago "named and claimed" it as gluttony.  But looking at it deeper, what I was trying to do — the reason I behaved as a glutton — was "securing my food supply."

    Even though, as I said, my food supply was not. ever. at. risk.

    It's a little bit crazy.

    + + +

    I could quite readily believe that the need to secure my food supply originated in my brain or body chemistry, and that it had something to do with the hypoglycemia and the insulin resistance that I pretty clearly experienced.  It's the hormones that drive hunger and cravings, most notably insulin; maybe there are more yet to be discovered (after all, ghrelin and leptin were only discovered in the mid-1990s).  Maybe there's some hormone that drives food-supply-securing behavior, some kind of hunting and gathering and storing away.     Something that drives you to stab people with your salad fork when they try to steal your French fries.  Something that drives you to hide your favorite ice cream in the back of the freezer where no one else can get it.  Something that drives you to eat "so you won't get hungry later" even if you're not hungry.  Something that drives you to fret all the time about whether you made enough food for everyone.

    (What should we call this hypothetical hormone?  I vote for "squirrelin.")

    + + +

    This isn't the only body-brain mismatch I've experienced.  Here's a bit from (believe it or not) a 2009 meditation on Holy Thursday:

    Have you ever had a genuine panic attack?  I have.  I had a string of maybe five panic attacks over a period of about six months when I was in college.  I never knew why they appeared, and I never knew why they went away again — I've never had any since.    I remember it vividly though, one of the most surreal things ever to happen to me.

    It was surreal because at every moment I knew exactly what was happening to me.  I recognized the sensation as a panic attack.  I knew I was, in fact, safe.  I knew there was no thing that could have triggered a legitimate fear response.  And yet my body was behaving as if I was in terrible danger.  My heart was pounding, my skin was sweating, the prickly hairs were standing up on my neck and arms, my blood was dumping adrenaline into my muscles, my breath came swift and panting, the lights brightened as my pupils dilated.  

    I suffered.  Not because I knew fear but because I felt it in my body.  My physical response created an unbearable restlessness — my very cells shrieked, Run! Fight!  And in a way that made it even worse, because I knew there was, in fact, no point in running and nothing to fight.  And yet my body urged me to do something — I kept having this urge to leave the house I was in, to run away into the night.  But since I knew I was safe, I had to bring all the strength of my will to bear against the irrational urges of my body to flee.   I told myself "This is a panic attack, it will pass," but the one thing I did not know was how long it would last.   In the end I sought help, called a friend (to my embarrassment, waking up his parents in the middle of the night) and begged him to keep me company on the phone until the terrible sensations passed.  

     It wasn't very nice of me to wake up my friend's parents, because I knew perfectly well that I had no "real" reason to seek help.  I put it off and put it off and finally my will snapped and I couldn't bear to be alone anymore.

    I wonder now if this is a little bit analogous to resisting the cravings for unhelpful food at the wrong times.  I wrote that gluttony comes in once you know when and what you're supposed to eat, and once you've put the plan in place to get rid of all the obvious external barriers to doing "the right thing" by your endocrine system.    Gluttony's what's you're up against when you know what you are supposed to eat and you know why and there's nothing stopping you except your own lack of will.  

    But that's sort of like saying that I was up against uncharity, selfishness, that night that I was sweating by the phone, wanting to call, knowing that I wasn't in any true danger, knowing that I would wake my friend's parents up and ruin their sleep if I called.  I knew if I called I would inconvenience several people and if I didn't call until morning the only thing that would happen was I would suffer for a few hours.   Oh, but it was hard, and in the end selfishness won out; I rationalized that I needed to call, and that they would not be so inconvenienced, and that was the end of that.

    Yes, I was selfish.  But in part it's because I managed to convince myself "What I'm about to do isn't nearly as bad as what I'm going through now."

    + + +

    So I wonder about that.  

    I can point to my panic attack and say, "Well, I had this ideopathic reaction in my sympathetic nervous system, and it created an illusion that I needed something, and that I could get that thing (another person's voice) only by inconveniencing another person.  Even though I knew rationally I had no real need, ultimately I rationalized that my perceived need superseded another person's real need, and that is why I behaved uncharitably."

    Can I point to my bingeing and hoarding and say, "Well, something in my endocrine system created this constant, low-level illusion that my food supply was endangered.   Even though I knew rationally that I would never really go hungry or even miss a meal, I rationalized that this constant need to secure my personal food supply superseded my obligations to my health and to others, and that is why I developed my habit of gluttony."

    It is not an excuse.  It is more of a diagnosis.  A "motivation" for gluttony.  And I think that understanding that motivation, understanding that I had a fear of hunger, was something that helped me, finally, tear it out (if incompletely) by the roots.

    I think there can be other motivations in other people.  I'll speculate about some possibilities in another post.  

    In the meantime, if you think you might be a glutton, but it has nothing to do with securing your food supply, tell your story in the combox.

    [Editing note.  Years and years later, I wish I’d done a better job distinguishing gluttony from other problems with food, like clinical eating disorders and other kinds of compulsiveness.  

    I want to emphasize that, whereas I identified some behaviors in myself that probably qualified as self-centered gluttony in the technical sense, I am not and never have been qualified to make that distinction for anyone else.

    I hope to add some commentary to all the posts that have this problem as I find the time to review them.  Here’s a more recent post where I acknowledge some of the problematic material I wrote and set new ground rules for myself going forward.]


  • Why, even if illness causes obesity, you’ve still got to deal with gluttony to get well.

    In my post Untangling the Narrative Threads I asserted that none of the prevailing obesity narratives correctly account for the role of gluttony* in weight gain and weight loss.  

    In a subsequent post, I defended the notion that gluttony isn’t typically the cause of obesity, on the grounds that a quite-ordinary, moderate-looking American diet seems, for many, to begin the slide into metabolic syndrome — frequently, starting in childhood, when moral culpability is low — and once it starts, it’s self-perpetuating because the individual so afflicted supposedly perceives normal hunger signals, but the signals are actually driving abnormal eating.  As Aquinas wrote, “The sin of gluttony is… extenuated… on account of the difficulty of discerning and regulating what is suitable.”  Metabolic syndrome destroys the body’s ability to discern and regulate what to eat. 

    Then I considered whether insulin resistance can cause gluttony.  I proposed that it can, because (even if metabolic syndrome destroys the body’s innate ability to discern and regulate what to eat) it is possible to become, out of habit, so psychologically deranged with respect to food that one begins unnecessarily violating social norms and the demands of duty and charity in order to secure one’s food supply (when in fact the food necessary to support health is not at risk).  The same thing can happen in a person who doesn’t suffer from metabolic syndrome, but I suggest that metabolic syndrome can be a trigger.

    Now I want to write about gluttony as the barrier to weight loss.

    + + +

    It almost sounds as if I have come back around to the calorie-is-a-calorie theory.  First I said “No, gluttony isn’t why people gain weight.”  Now I’m basically saying “Yes, but you have to overcome gluttony in order to lose weight.”

    (It isn’t a contradiction, any more than saying “Nicotine cravings don’t cause people to become smokers, but to stop smoking, people have to learn to resist cravings for nicotine.”) 

    Metabolic syndrome — insulin resistance — destroys or severely damages the body’s innate means of discerning and regulating what is suitable.  But we do have another means of discerning and regulating what is suitable, and that is our own intellect and willpower.  It’s a shoddy substitute for a working endocrine system.  But it is what we have.  And we have to get it working, at least in a rudimentary fashion,  before we run up against our gluttony.

    The control-system patch that we jerry-rig from our intellect and willpower is glitchy and buggy.  

    Bug #1:  Discernment.  Our intellect can have the wrong theory about what to eat, how much, and when.  Gotta get that right first.

    Bug #2:  Regulation.  Our intellect can have the wrong ideas about how to arrange the details (who will shop?  where will I store food?  what will I do if I get hungry?) so that we don’t have to rely as much on our willpower.  

    But once you can discern what to eat (thanks to a working theory of what to eat, how much, and when) and regulate what to eat (thanks to a working plan of arranging your life so you can, theoretically, easily do what you’re supposed to do) you don’t get your “extenuating pass” from the sin of gluttony anymore.  

    You are now ready to deal with…

    …Bug #3:  Willpower is weak. In other words:  Here is where the gluttony comes in.  If you are a glutton, now is when you will discover it.

    + + +

     OK.  So, let’s suppose that it turns out that the Taubes folks are right, that the answer to “what to eat” is “sharply reduce carbohydrates.”  

    And let’s suppose that you have worked out the most feasible specific diet to do that.   This is going to vary person to person, from “total elimination of all carbs but a few bites of green leafy vegetables a day,” through “cut back everything across the board and that will decrease my carb load,” all the way up to “fairly normal diet, except I try not to eat a lot of sugar, bread, or pasta.”  Because some people have to cut back a little, and others have to cut back a lot, to see results.  It’s not fair, but it appears to be true.

    And let’s suppose that you have some strategies in place to overcome obvious external barriers:  you’re planning menus, and you’re getting the shopping done, and you’ve removed unnecessary temptations from your environment, and you have a plan for what to do when you eat out, etc.

    You still might have to say no to things you want to have.

    And if you find that it’s really really hard to do this… you may be dealing with gluttony.

    + + +

    Back to the definition of gluttony I came up with:

    Gluttony is eating behavior that flouts the restraints

    of charity, obedience, resources, health, duty, or manners.

    Now that you know that you should avoid (say) sugar for the sake of your health, if you refuse to be bound by this constraint, if you keep saying “Gosh darn it, I don’t care about my blood sugar, I want a handful of gummy bears,”  you are dealing with gluttony.

    (I’m not talking about the rational decision in advance to allow yourself a portion of chocolate every day because you judge it’s a permissible pleasure, or a plan to have small desserts on the weekends so you can learn to enjoy them in moderation.  I’m talking about the decision, in the moment, to ignore the plan you’ve already set for yourself because you want cake NOW.)

    It’s understandable that it will be difficult to follow your plan in the face of real hunger signals that urge you to eat, or drive cravings for something that you know you shouldn’t have, at least not now.  But if you really know you really should resist them, then it’s gluttony that you have to resist.

    Disobeying the rules you’ve set for yourself is probably the biggest problem, but you may discover other depths of gluttony that you didn’t know you had.  Take charity, for instance.  If you suddenly become seriously stressed out and scream at everyone because the children ate your special sugar-free breath mints and you have to have those breath mints to keep from eating between meals then you are exhibiting what is basically a gluttony problem.  You are letting your food issues interfere with your generosity and kindness.

    And manners.  If you are invited to someone’s house for dinner and you have to pointedly scrape all the breading off your chicken, where they can see it, because they are  ruining your diet and they should know better, then you are letting your food issues interfere with your manners.  You may have never been this kind of a dinner guest before.  Having an eating plan that you are trying to stick to may bring this hidden gluttony out.

    + + +

    The good news is that it’s supposed to get easier as you go, because the more you heal your blood sugar problem, the less you’ll have to deal with hunger and cravings.  But to start to heal, you have to work to resist the hunger and cravings.  There is not much way around this.  You will want cake, and there will be cake, and you will have to make a lot of individual decisions not to eat the cake that’s right there and that you really want.

    If you cannot — will not — make a lot of those decisions go in the right direction, you won’t get better and it won’t get physiologically easier.

    You also have to deal with the force of habit, which is not so physiological, but still a strong force keeping you in that rut.  This is another thing that gets easier as you go — provided you are not asking too much of yourself at once.  One step at a time, one small change at a time, may be more effective in the long run for the mind.

    There’s a certain tension here.  The physiology will react more quickly to a drastic change (the more carb-load you can remove at once, the quicker your blood sugar and insulin resistance will start to heal).  But the psychology, it seems, does not change quickly, and more-incremental changes may be more likely to stick.

    Which just reinforces the notion that the path to healing (or redemption, depending on how you look at gluttony) is excruciatingly individual.

     

    [Editing note.  Years and years later, I wish I’d done a better job distinguishing gluttony from other problems with food, like clinical eating disorders and other kinds of compulsiveness.  

    I want to emphasize that, whereas I identified some behaviors in myself that probably qualified as self-centered gluttony in the technical sense, I am not and never have been qualified to make that distinction for anyone else.

    I hope to add some commentary to all the posts that have this problem as I find the time to review them.  Here’s a more recent post where I acknowledge some of the problematic material I wrote and set new ground rules for myself going forward.]


  • Can insulin resistance cause gluttony?

    Before we consider whether people who are sick with insulin resistance develop gluttony as a symptom — let's consider gluttony in healthy, non-obese, non-insulin-resistant people.

    "Pure" gluttony, in other words.  Gluttony that's not mitigated by illness.

    And we'll use my own definition of gluttony.  Which, by the way, doesn't contradict Aquinas's definitions of "too much, too soon, too eagerly, too daintily (pickily), too expensively" — it's more that it attempts to clarify them, to show what's meant by "too…" in these clauses.  That is,

     

    Gluttony is eating behavior that flouts the restraints

    of charity, obedience, resources, health, duty, or manners.


    First let's consider a physically healthy person with normal hunger pangs.  When his body runs short on fuel, generally close to mealtime, he starts to get hungry and think about food.

    If the healthy, hungry person is not a glutton:

    • he is willing to share some of his food with other people
    • he is willing to follow household rules such as "don't spoil your dinner" or "don't eat those crackers I'm saving for the party" or institutional rules such as "employees may not eat at their desks"
    • he is willing to resist desires for food that doesn't fit into his budget
    • he is willing to resist desires for meals that he believes won't promote health  – even if what he wants is to eat a big bag of chips, he can choose to eat (say) a few chips and some fruit or nuts instead; he knows to stop eating or drinking when he's had so much that he'll feel sick
    • he is willing to resist eating if it's not "permitted" — he is willing to fast from meat on Lenten Fridays, or he is willing to resist eating factory-farmed meat if he believes it's not ethical, or to fast for a number of hours before a medical test, etc.
    • he is willing to eat with attention to social norms, e.g., slowly enough to carry on a conversation and to keep from making a mess, and observing cultural norms of graceful dining.

    If the healthy, hungry person is a glutton:

    • he may say "No, I don't have enough to share; get your own" and may even steal food
    • he may not care about rules for when, where, and what may be eaten, and may sneak food 
    • he may spend too much money so he can eat the food he wants to eat, when he wants to eat it
    • he may care more about eating what he wants to eat than about eating food that will support his health, and may eat or drink so much that he feels physically ill later
    • he may complain that it's unbearable to observe required fasts or to abstain from proscribed foods
    • he may be focused so narrowly on eating and drinking that he doesn't care if he spills, slurps, belches, or ignores his dining companions

    Healthy people, who know better and have free will, commit all these acts from time to time — and I name these acts "gluttony."  You have seen one balancing a cheeseburger on his steering wheel while he changes lanes.  You have read one griping about Ash Wednesday on her mommyblog.  You have caught one taking the last helping of mashed potatoes without asking if anyone else wants some. One has eaten the cookie dough out of the bowl even though it has raw eggs in it.  Another has said "yes, please" to that tasty stuff that gives him heartburn.   Another has woken up with a terrible hangover.  

    Who hasn't done this kind of thing, once in a while? 

    But some healthy people do this a lot, and I name them "gluttons."

    What is it that turns a healthy person into a glutton?  Concupiscence.  Selfishness.  Narcissism.  Short-term thinking.  Habit.  Mistaking other people's reasonable desires and needs for unreasonable demands.    Mistaking his own wants for needs that must be gratified.  Deciding that the rules don't apply to him, or that it's okay as long as he doesn't get caught.  

    Most of us do this at least once in a while, but some do it constantly.  Some have fallen into a habit of gluttony.

    + + +

    It's important to note that the gluttonous behaviors listed above are gluttonous no matter how hungry the person happens to feel.  They would be gluttonous if the person was only feeling a bit peckish.  They would also be gluttonous if the person had missed a meal and felt positively ravenous.  The culpability of gluttony is mitigated somewhat when hunger feels unbearable, but the behavior is still gluttonous.  

    This happened to me the other day.  I came home from church at 12:45 and was feeling woozy from low blood sugar.  (Something about the timing of the eleven o'clock Mass ruins me.  I can't quite figure it out.)  Mark went upstairs to take care of something or other and left me searching  irritably in the kitchen; while children clung to my legs and whined for food and milk, I whined back at them that I had to eat my own lunch first and then I could take care of them.  In one sense, I really did need to eat first, and my judgment was impaired.  But I could at least have asked Mark or an older child for help instead of just yelling.  So, yeah.  Gluttonous, even when very hungry.  But it's not too surprising that I got gluttonous just then, because I was in a weakened state.

    So.  Gluttony is more likely when you're weak from feelings of hunger.  It's also mitigated  – we're less culpable when we're in a weakened state.  

    But it's more likely.

    And if the insulin-resistance crowd is to be believed, then people with insulin resistance spend a lot of time in that weakened state.  They get hungrier, and they get hungry more often.  So they're maybe more often tempted to behave gluttonously:  eating uncharitably, breaking rules, ignoring manners.

    Their guilt is mitigated because they are weak.  God knows they are weak.  God knows that illness makes it harder for them.

    But they still have to live with the consequences imposed by nature.

    And one of the natural consequences of frequently indulging in abnormal behavior is that it becomes its own new norm.  It becomes a habit.

    Just as a healthy person who ignores constraints too often can develop a habit of gluttony, a sick person, giving in frequently to strong temptations that overcome the "shoulds" and "oughts," can develop a habit of gluttony.  

    And after a while, the sick person might start to believe that hunger is not resistable under any circumstances.  The sick person might start to fear the discomfort of hunger.  And isn't so much sin grounded in an unreasonable fear of suffering — even slight suffering?

    She can't give some of her French fries to her children, because she might be too hungry later.  She can't resist storing some snacks in a desk drawer, though it's against workplace rules, and she rationalizes that she (unlike those others) really needs it.  She can't wait to get home for lunch even though she and her husband agreed to curtail the restaurant budget.  She always has to finish the first plate of food before she comes up for air and conversation.  She must taste the soup one more time to make sure it's good enough before she serves it.  

    Frequent out-of-line behavior, in response to frequent understandable weakness, becomes frequent out-of-line behavior, in response to… less and less.   Habit reinforces habit.  And many gluttonous indulgences makes one glutton.

    Years of insulin resistance, of unrestrained eating in response to physiological weakness, can — I think — generate more unrestrained eating in response to the force of habit.  That habit may stand between the sickness and the cure, and I suspect it can even persist after physiological "cure" has been achieved.

    [Editing note.  Years and years later, I wish I’d done a better job distinguishing gluttony from other problems with food, like clinical eating disorders and other kinds of compulsiveness.  

    I want to emphasize that, whereas I identified some behaviors in myself that probably qualified as self-centered gluttony in the technical sense, I am not and never have been qualified to make that distinction for anyone else.

    I hope to add some commentary to all the posts that have this problem as I find the time to review them.  Here’s a more recent post where I acknowledge some of the problematic material I wrote and set new ground rules for myself going forward.]


  • Gluttony doesn’t (typically) cause obesity.

    A couple of days ago, I wrote that the existing competing narratives of obesity don’t really “get” the role of gluttony* right, because they lack philosophical grounding in the nature of gluttony.  

    The calorie-is-a-calorie crowd say that gluttony — eating too much — is the whole problem, with some contribution from sloth, and if people would just eat less they’d get thin.  They’ve got the biochemistry wrong, and have unfairly accused fat people of causing their own disease by being gluttons.  

    The insulin-resistance people (think Gary Taubes) have the chemistry right, in my opinion, but they reject the idea of gluttony playing a part at all.  I think that’s wrong too.  Even though I’m convinced that metabolic syndrome exists and is caused by a diet high in refined carbohydrates and sugar and that it perpetuates a vicious cycle of eating and craving, I think gluttony is involved, and beating gluttony is part of the cure.

    In this post (and a couple more) I want to explore the role of gluttony in obesity.  Starting with the question:  Does gluttony — technically defined gluttony — cause obesity?

    + + +

    The insulin-resistance crowd, whom I think is correct as regards the biochemistry, says No:  Gluttony, or “eating too much,” does not cause obesity; obesity is caused by eating the wrong things, not too much of everything.  Eating more than you burn doesn’t cause weight gain; weight gain causes eating more than you burn.

    But we aren’t actually interested in that answer, because it’s the answer to the wrong question.  The common, ordinary meaning of “glutton” is just “someone who eats too much.”  That’s the definition they are using.  But moral philosophers have defined “gluttony” more broadly than that for hundreds of years.  Recall that Aquinas subdivided gluttony into five categories:  eating too expensively, too daintily, too much, too soon, or too eagerly. Aquinas was also perfectly aware that it didn’t count as a sin if you didn’t realize you were eating out of order, or if you had doctor’s orders, or something like that.  

    More recently, I proposed an alternate definition of gluttony that drew brighter lines:   Gluttony, I wrote, is eating behavior that flouts the restraints of charity, obedience, resources, health, duty, or manners.  These sound more promising ways to pin the blame on gluttony, especially when it comes to the “health” bit.  But I agree with Aquinas that it can’t count as a sin if you don’t know your eating is wrong — if you think you need the food. 

    If we use Aquinas’s definitions, the following are obvious:

    1. Gluttony could  be a cause of obesity, if eating too much causes obesity.  
    2. But even if eating too much did cause obesity,  gluttony wouldn’t necessarily be the problem because eating too much doesn’t qualify as gluttony if the eater has good reason to believe it wasn’t too much.  For example, if he was truly experiencing feelings of hunger.

    Seeking out food when you’re hungry is not gluttonous behavior; it’s normal behavior.

    And guess what?  One of the things that metabolic syndrome causes is hunger and carbohydrate cravings.  This is from Why We Get Fat:

    Even before we begin eating, insulin works to increase our feeling of hunger…. we begin secreting insulin just by thinking about eating… and this insulin secretion then increases within seconds of taking our first bite.  It happens even before we begin to digest the meal, and before any glucose appears in the bloodstream.  This insulin serves to prepare our bodies for the upcoming flood of glucose by storing away other nutrients in the circulation — particularly fatty acids. …

    …The insulin makes us hungry by temporarily diverting nutrients out of the circulation and into storage… The greater the blood sugar and insulin response to a particular food, the more we like it — the better we think it tastes….

    [T]he fatter [predisposed people] get, the more they’ll crave carbohydrate-rich foods, because their insulin will be more effective at stashing fat and protein in their muscle and fat tissue, where they can’t be used for fuel.

    Once we get resistant to insulin… we’ll … have longer periods during every twenty-four hours when the only fuel we can burn is the glucose from carbohydrates.  The insulin, remember, is working to keep protein and fat and even glycogen… safely stashed away for later.  It’s telling our cellls that there is blood sugar in excess to be burned, but there’s not.  So it’s glucose we crave.

    Grossly oversimplified, elevated insulin is supposed to make you hungry, makes you want to eat carbs in particular, and makes you store fat at the same time.  So even though from the outside, a heavy person may appear to be eating too much, from the inside the person may be experiencing unbearable hunger.  And hunger is the normal drive to eat.  

    I live with one of those weird, always-lean people:

    41401_1464151935_7033_n

    Mostly he eats pretty moderately:  oatmeal for breakfast, soup and salad at lunch, maybe a couple helpings at dinner, a little ice cream at bedtime.  On occasion, however, I have seen him put away what looks to me like an enormous amount of food.  The equivalent of two or three cheeseburgers or something like that in the space of a few minutes.  Is he a closet, occasional glutton?  Perhaps suffering from binge disorder?

    No.  The “binges” happen after a day of skiing, or hiking at altitude, or heavy yard work, or maybe rock climbing.  When he exerts himself, he needs to eat more.

    As astonishing as it is to people like me who have had to think about food their whole lives, I hear that this is what actually happens in metabolically healthy people.  They don’t need to think “Does that workout mean I get to eat more?” because their body tells them to eat more.  So they do.  And we never accuse those people of gluttony — because they don’t look fat.

    Anyway, there is no moral difference between a fat person who gets extra-hungry and therefore eats extra food, and a thin person who gets extra-hungry and therefore eats extra food.  Even if the reason for the hunger is different — in one person, excess insulin, and in the other person, excess physical activity — the subjective experience of the need for food may be the same.

     Look, Aquinas knows this:

     …[T]he sin of gluttony is rather extenuated than aggravated…in consideration of the necessity of taking food, as also on account of the difficulty of discerning and regulating what is suitable on such occasions.

    Gluttony is mitigated insofar as it is difficult to “discern” and “regulate” what is suitable.  Metabolic syndrome creates a feeling of hunger, and that is exactly what makes it difficult to discern and regulate what is suitable to eat.

    + + +

    So, if it’s true that eating the wrong things (too much sugar and white flour and potatoes, for instance) creates metabolic syndrome, can that count as gluttony?  Maybe under the “too expensively” or “too daintily” categories?  

    It might, if a person (before they developed the syndrome) knew that they were eating too much of the wrong things and obstinately persisted.  

    Culpability is hard to establish, though, because in many cases it isn’t an entirely free choice to do so:

    •  many people begin to develop metabolic syndrome while they are still children, being fed by parents and institutions; 
    • government policy has been giving us counterproductive advice for more than a generation;
    • the low-fat doctrine is still pushed heavily by schools and physicians; 
    • we seemingly reasonably assume that if we’re not visibly obese yet, we must be doing okay;
    •  the food that promotes metabolic syndrome is ubiquitous, widely advertised, and cheap.

    It isn’t impossible for gluttony to cause obesity.  But for that to happen you’d have to posit an apparently healthy individual who, as an adult, and knowing that it was bad for him, made a free choice to begin consuming large portions of sugar and white flour until he wrecked his metabolism.

     I think this might happen sometimes.  It’s the sort of thing that people say will happen to kids who are raised in homes barren of soda pop and sugary cereal:  As soon as they’re out on their own, they’ll go crazy, subsisting on fast food, Cheez Whiz, and Captain Crunch.  (One of my friends in grad school claimed to have known a guy in her college dorm who actually got scurvy his freshman year.)

    Most of the time, though, I think we just sort of slide into metabolic syndrome, not by eating a diet that is obviously unhealthy, but by eating… the normal American diet.  Normal Americans drink soda, eat white bread and white rice, and consume a lot of sugar in the course of an ordinary day.  Some are more susceptible than others, and those people develop metabolic syndrome, gain weight, and get hungrier — so they begin to eat regularly in a way that looks like gluttony, from the outside.  But because of the subjective experience of hunger, we can’t automatically call it that.

    + + +

    The next question I want to consider is whether metabolic syndrome causes gluttony, of any of the types that Aquinas identified or that I reclassified.  I’ve already written that eating in response to real hunger isn’t, I think, gluttonous.  But is that the only kind of behavior change created by metabolic syndrome?  

    I’m going to cover that in another post.

    *[Editing note.  Years and years later, I wish I’d done a better job distinguishing gluttony from other problems with food, like clinical eating disorders and other kinds of compulsiveness.  

    I want to emphasize that, whereas I identified some behaviors in myself that probably qualified as self-centered gluttony in the technical sense, I am not and never have been qualified to make that distinction for anyone else.  I  touch on what I’m talking about a little more clearly partway through this post.

    I hope to add some commentary to all the posts that have this problem as I find the time to review them.  Here’s a more recent post where I acknowledge some of the problematic material I wrote and set new ground rules for myself going forward.]


  • Where to start with gluttony: some links back to my archives.

    Christine, in the comments to the last posts, asked “Where to start with gluttony?”

    + + +

    I reviewed Gary Taubes’s book some time ago in three parts, and I think these are some of my best gluttony posts, especially the second and third one.

     

    + + +

     

    Here is the part where I cheekily suggest a definition of gluttony, complete with new categories, that I prefer to Thomas Aquinas’s.  (Yes, I really am claiming to have improved on the Summa Theologica.) Here’s my new post-Summa definition of gluttony:

    The sin of gluttony is the refusal to eat within the restraints imposed on us by charity, obedience, resources, health, religious/ethical duties, and manners.   

    (The weakness of gluttony is the inability to eat within those restraints.)

     

    Aquinas’s definition of gluttony seems to have one glaring problem:  it lacks a bright-line rule.  “Gluttony means inordinate appetite in eating,” he tells us, and we rightly ask:  What do you mean, “inordinate?”  Out of accord with the natural order of things, one supposes….

    We’ve been over this before:   we can be a glutton by eating too expensively, too daintily (“pickily”), too much, too soon, or too eagerly.  

    This is a nice categorization because it expands the usual definition of gluttony, but it still leaves us asking:  But Thomas, what do you mean by “too” anything?  If one can eat “too” expensively, then surely one can eat “just expensively enough,” and so forth.  Where is the line?  How do we know when we’ve crossed over from eating promptly, to eating “too soon?”  Eating with relish, and eating “too eagerly?”   Selecting good food and being a glutton of pickiness?

    I think the answer is that gluttony, like most concupiscence, abhors restraint; what makes gluttony different from other vices, such as sloth or lust, is that the restraints it abhors all have to do with food.  

    Different people live under different sets of restraints, some more stringent than others; and different times call for different restraints; so the boundaries of gluttony cannot be defined clearly as a set of rules that are appropriate for everyone.   And so eating quite a lot of food, or eating expensive food, or eating at odd times, isn’t inherently gluttonous; what makes it gluttonous is if the eater is supposed to be exercising restraint, but isn’t.

    If I may say so myself, I think it’s worth reading the whole thing.  Rather than Aquinas’s categories of gluttony as eating “too expensively, too pickily, too much, too soon, or too eagerly” my categories — stripped of the vague modifier “too” — could be phrased as 

    • eating inconsiderately
    • eating disobediently
    • eating wastefully
    • eating unhealthfully
    • eating irreligiously (or, if you are not religious, substitute “unethically”)
    • eating rudely.

    + + +

    Oh, and for the people who would like to eat low-carb but feel bad about the environmental impact of consuming so many more animal products:   here are some things to keep in mind for improving the sustainability of lower-carb eating.  I am rather fond of this article.  The short of it is:

    1. Eating enough fats and oils, and not too much protein, will alleviate the famous unpleasant side effects of low-carb diets. 
    2. Don’t overestimate your daily protein requirements.  Three grams for each ten pounds you weigh is a good rule of thumb for the minimum.  You could eat more, of course, but you don’t necessarily need more.
    3. Eat your veggies, and eat them with plenty of tasty, tasty fats and oils — enough to give you all the energy you require over and above your calories from protein.
    4. Don’t waste so damn much food, especially protein.  Avoidable food waste is the most shameful portion of our environmental impact.  
    5. Choose animal products that make efficient use of agricultural protein.  In order, the most efficient “ordinary” sources from the grocery store are dairy; eggs, tied with aquacultured fish; chickens; pork; beef.  (Wholly grass-fed beef, or beef fed on non-human-edible agricultural residue, is great if you can get it, but not everyone can get it).


  • Untangling the narrative threads.

    As I have been struggling with weight maintenance more than usual this month, I have found myself contemplating the two dominant narratives about weight loss and weight gain, and why neither of them ultimately satisfies.

    Here they are, in brief:

    “A calorie is a calorie.” Weight gain is caused by eating more calories than you burn, and storing the extra as fat; to lose weight, burn all the calories that you eat, plus extra that come out of your fat stores. In this narrative, the amount of calories is far more important than the type of food the calories come from. People who cannot lose weight are people who have a gluttony problem.

    “Insulin resistance and glycemic load.” Gluttony does not cause people to gain weight. Excess adiposity — fatness — is a symptom of metabolic syndrome, an endocrine disease. The disease comes from a diet that has more sugar and refined carbohydrate than the body can handle, because of an environment that constantly pushes such foods. The only cure for the endocrine system is to cut back on carbohydrate load, and some people have to cut back drastically for a long time to see results. People who cannot lose weight are people who have not tried the right cure, who have not tried a drastic enough cure, or who have not yet given it enough time to work.

    I think the insulin-resistance theory has the chemistry right, but it gets gluttony wrong.

    [Editing note.  Years after writing this, I wish I’d done a better job distinguishing gluttony from other problems with food, like clinical eating disorders and other kinds of compulsiveness.  

    I want to emphasize that, whereas I identified some behaviors in myself that probably qualified as self-centered gluttony in the technical sense, I am not and never have been qualified to make that distinction for anyone else.  I  touch on what I’m talking about a little more clearly partway through this post.

    I hope to add some commentary to all the posts that have this problem as I find the time to review them.  Here’s a more recent post where I acknowledge some of the problematic material I wrote and set new ground rules for myself going forward.

    I’ll leave the rest of this post up for posterity, but I want readers to understand that this older post is me trying to figure things out, not me who has already figured it out.  And a lot of it is really just about me and what happened in my head.]

    It is enormously comforting for a heavy person to hear that gluttony is not the cause of his fatness, and it is even more comforting to hear that it is unnecessary to beat gluttony in order to get better. The message from the insulin-resistance crowd is “You are not bad or weak; you are just sick. Take the cure and you will get better.”

    The calorie-is-a-calorie theory has the chemistry wrong, but it doesn’t have the gluttony part entirely right either. It persists, by the way, because it is so comforting to the not-fat people. The people who can control their weight get to go on, like Job’s friends, believing in the essential justice of the universe: that person can’t get thinner because she is weak-willed and lazy. The laws of thermodynamics make it so. Perversely, there is some comfort for heavy people: I am this way because I deserve it and because the universe is just; but there is hope for me, because if only I can become a better person, I will surely lose the weight and become beautiful and accepted. Someday I will.

    Americans don’t grok gluttony because they don’t grok sin and human failings in general. We believe in an essential dichotomy: Either a man’s failing is his own damn fault, so we stigmatize and punish it, and maybe (if we are religious) call it “sin;” or it is someone else’s fault, so we try to pass laws and social programs, and de-stigmatize it and raise awareness. The only difference as you move from Left to Right is which failings are your own damn fault and which failings are someone else’s.

    But the reality is that we each participate, with varying degrees of freedom, in the flaws and failings that nature and society have thrust upon us. Sin and failings beget sin and failings — sometimes in other people — so they spread like a disease. And so it can simultaneously be true that a fat person is sick through no fault of her own, and that she struggles with the sin of gluttony.

    Here is what I think is the right way to look at it:

    • Gluttony does not cause excess adiposity, nor metabolic syndrome. 
    • Too many refined carbs for the particular body to handle causes metabolic syndrome. Of that, excess adiposity — fatness — is a symptom.
    • Metabolic syndrome contributes to the development of certain types of gluttony. You could say that gluttony is another symptom, along with fatness.
    • A person who has metabolic syndrome must fight and beat gluttony in order to apply the prescribed cure.

    So the insulin-resistance crowd is correct that gluttony did not make the fat person fat. But the calorie-is-a-calorie crowd is correct that the fat person must overcome gluttony to become thin.

    (You have to overcome gluttony, but you have to do it the right way.)

    Did I really just say that gluttony, technically a sin for many people and at minimum a human failing of will, is a symptom of a disease? Doesn’t the disease mean they aren’t guilty of the sin?

     Guilt is mitigated where will is limited, sure, but the mitigation of guilt doesn’t destroy the effects of the fault. We all know this, and so does our legal system. Abusers are likely to have been abused themselves, but we don’t give them a free pass; if we are merciful we try to help them change, but we do insist that they stop abusing others. So — gluttons are likely to be sick, and mercy should move us to compassion rather than sneering, but it doesn’t change the fact that they will not get better without doing the hard work to overcome gluttony.

    It is a sort of hysteresis of disease. We amble accidentally along an easy path from health to sickness. The path from sickness to health is not just the return trip. It is a different, and more arduous one, and it requires from us strengths that we may not find entirely within ourselves.

     

    More on this later.


  • Bipartisanship.

    This blog post at the NYT has some fun graphs up showing how various cable networks, alcoholic beverages, cars, and fast food chains skew Republican or Democrat.  

    It turns out that our family drives on the center-left side of the road, as we own a VW and a Toyota, both favored by Dems.  (I suspect the Toyota numbers vary a lot by model, and that the eight-seater Sienna we drive probably shows up to the right of, say, the Prius.)

    I don't watch enough TV or eat enough fast food to register very well on those measures, and I don't have enough brand loyalty to Big Beer to register much on the alcohol spectrum as well.  

    Being rather interested in bipartisanship, I was wondering what cultural forces can bring people together.  It turns out that we can all get along by watching HGTV, A&E, and Spike; driving Chevrolets; dining at Wendy's; looking up movie listings on the Internet; and, in the one behavior I think I can endorse with reasonable enthusiasm, drinking Guinness.  Now at least you know what to serve at those uncomfortable family get-togethers.

    h/t Darwin Catholic, who drinks center-right


  • Reader question.

    A few days ago I posted about NFP:

    Any readers who have decided to go the no-charts route, did you find that there was a development over the years of your gut-level understanding or acceptance of Church teaching on human sexuality and procreation, or do you think you already "got it" before you set off on that route?

    Reader Erin in KY comments:

    I am so glad you posted this question…

    My husband and I have been practicing NFP for only the last 5 years of our 11 year marriage. The first 6 were contraceptive. We feel so strongly about this now that we give a talk at the Pre cana session for engaged couples. Since we give the talks about 2-3 times a year we have to sit down and discuss our talk. We have had many discussions on this very topic.

    We don't have the experience of putting it all in God's hands and not charting, but we have definitely known the sacrifice of using NFP and have aligned ourselves with Christ in that sacrifice. Like you said it is something that has taken years to fully appreciate. Along those years we have also learned to more fully put our fertility in God's hands and we are hoping to conceive our fourth child soon!

    Since this is something that takes time and experience to appreciate, if anyone has input that might make this message more clear for engaged couples please let me know.

    I am also collaborating with the author of the training manual for marriage sponsor couple training in our diocese. Just to let you know the audience, this is a couple who most likely doesn't practice NFP having to teach an engaged couple what the church teaches. They will likely have to admit that they don't practice it. As it stands the current training manual just has a Catholic Update in the back on NFP…

    I told them these couples are coming to the church for marriage, they should get the truth from the experience. Also, the sponsor couples cannot be forced to practice NFP, but if they are in the ministry of sponsoring couples in the church, I don't think it is unreasonable that they be forced to learn what the church teaches on marriage.

    Any help would be greatly appreciated!

    Personally, I think it's a warning sign when a diocese selects sponsor couples for marriage preparation who are in a state of active dissent on the Church's teaching of marital sexuality — let alone couples who don't even know what the Church teaches.  I applaud you for your efforts to improve the catechesis situation in your diocese.

    Any suggestions, readers?


  • Pants. Pantyhose. Duck and cover.

    Remember Simcha Fisher and the Great Pants Debate?

    I was reminded of this the other day, because I think I have stumbled upon the Working Woman's Version of the Great Pants Debate.

    It is this 2010 question about pantyhose at the popular business/HR blog Ask A Manager.

    A reader writes:

    "Perhaps my question is a bit trite, but do I have to wear pantyhose to an interview? I hate pantyhose. So much so that I haven’t owned or worn any in at least 10 years. I usually just wear slacks to an interview, but I bought this killer new suit, and it has a skirt, so the issue has come up again in my life."

    Ask A Manager's blogger, human resources professional Alison Green, replied:

    In general, no. But there are some industries — fewer and fewer of them — where women are still expected to wear pantyhose.  Are you interviewing in a particularly conservative industry? If not, bare legs are fine these days. Go with a closed shoe though.

    If you’re not sure if the office is particularly conservative or not, you could play it safe and err on the side of pantyhose. (Or you could decide that if they have a problem with you not being squeezed into waist-to-toe nylon, it’s not the culture for you anyway.)

    So far, so good, right?

    Wrong.  Green had to close comments, and the controversy was forever after referred to as the "Great Pantyhose Debate of 2010.

    Notable from the comments was Mike:

    Well no one expects me or the other guys to be wearing the stuff so why should the rest of the office have to?

    Are there still places that balk at the thought of women choosing to wearing pants as well?

    Ah, Mike.  So refreshing, the naivete.

     

     


  • Engineering ethics, from both directions.

    I recently discovered a blog that's new to me but has been around since 2006:  Engineering Ethics Blog, written by "Kaydee," whose profile states that he teaches engineering courses at Texas State and that he has worked in industry and as a consulting engineer.  

    Engineering ethics is a great interest of mine, coming at it from two directions — the conventional one, and a different one as well.    

    The first and common understanding of "engineering ethics" would be the professional ethical standards of practicing and teaching engineers.  Engineering organizations have their own published codes of ethics (for example, here is the code of ethics of AIChE, in which I briefly held membership before switching my job description to "never worked a day in her life"*).   Engineering colleges routinely offer courses in engineering ethics to their students, although the courses are not always required.  Here is an online, uncredited course in engineering ethics offered through MIT OpenCourseWare.  (I have not reviewed this course and this link is not a recommendation.)

    In that sense, "engineering ethics" encompasses questions of serving public safety, of truth-telling in public statements, of refusing to take part in bribery or corruption, of accurate self-representation, and of working within one's own sphere of competence.  

    There is another sense in which I, personally, like to think of "engineering ethics."  That is the special perspective and specialized knowledge that engineering training brings to the consideration of ethical questions in general.

    Such questions confront all human beings above the age of reason.  They include questions that societies face in balancing diverse interests through public policy; questions of evaluating costs and benefits, risks and rewards in the workplace and in our personal lives; and how specific ethical questions ("case studies," if you will) refine and sharpen the broad principles of moral philosophy.

    What do I mean by the "special perspective and specialized knowledge" of engineers?  Emphatically not that the engineer, or any other kind of scientist, has a specially privileged moral sense.  Scientists and engineers are no more likely to make good interior ethical judgments than anyone else.  We are just as likely to be selfish, corruptible, or arrogant.  If all our policymakers were scientists and engineers, we might have more technically informed policy, but we would not necessarily have policy that better served the public good.  There is precious little about "what one ought to do" in an engineering education — and what there is, appears in the engineering ethics courses.

    Part of what I mean by the relevant perspective and specialized knowledge is our expertise in technical matters that may inform ethical decisions.  

    • We may not be specially able to tell the public whether we ought to mandate such-and-such an adaptive technology to better accommodate the disabled in public buildings.  But we can tell the public how much the machines will cost, how soon they could be installed, which places they would be more difficult to implement, and how frequently they would require maintenance.  
    • We may not be specially able to tell the public whether we ought to ban a particular type of gadget that has fallen out of favor because of some impact its production or disposal has on the environment.  But we can provide a list of feasible substitute gadgets, count up how much the substitutes would cost, estimate how soon new technologies might come to market, consider whether there are alternative means of dealing with the old gadget's problems, and try to predict whether the substitute gadgets will bring worse costs and risks than the old ones.   

    My husband, the other engineer on this blog, says about his responsibilities giving technical advice at work:  "I never tell them that such-and-such an idea is impossible, or that it is a bad idea.  That is not my job.  I always tell them how much their idea would cost, and let them make the conclusions."

    But another aspect that the engineer brings to ethical problems is our trained approach to problems in general.  It's sometimes maddening for the people who have to work with us and live with us, but we can be accused of treating every problem, from public policy to household budgetary dilemmas to difficult childrearing decisions to friends' marital woes as an engineering problem.  

    What are the constraints?  Make a list.  What are the available resources?  Tally them up.  Which pieces of information do we lack?  Take a measurement, go get advice, or make an appropriate assumption along with the necessary caveats.  What are the conceivable courses of action?  Plot them out.  Where are the critical decision points?  Identify them and identify the possible decisions.  

    How much could each path cost?  What are the possible benefits?  Who benefits at each stage?  What are the risks — and what is the probability of each projected undesirable outcome?  Can we live with those possibilities?

    It's not that we don't take into consideration people's feelings about their problems.  It's just that the potential effect of feelings  have to be factored into the cost-and-benefit structure.  If you're going to have an irrational reaction to one potential outcome of this decision, then I have to factor your irrationality into the potential negative costs.

    We tend to drive nontechnical types a little crazy when we import our approach into nontechnical problems.  But I think it's a good way to approach problems of all kinds, and is one reason why I'm grateful for my engineering education, which has shaped the way I look at all kinds of things, even though (as noted) I haven't worked a day in my life.  At least not recently.

    Anyway, here is a sample of posts from Engineering Ethics Blog.

    On the unintended consequences of the ethanol-in-gasoline mandate ERISA:

    At the time, ERISA was passed, ethanol was the only biofuel that had any reasonable chance of making it into the nation’s gas tanks in a reasonable time frame….

    The not-so-advertised reasons for the law have to do with the strength of the agricultural lobby.  The E10 mandate was a tremendous windfall for everybody who grows corn.  While some ethanol from corn was being used voluntarily as a fuel additive before 2007, the mandate caused this use to skyrocket.  By 2011, according to the Mosbacher Institute report by economist James Griffin, 37% of the entire U. S. corn crop went toward ethanol production.  And corn prices soared from $2.50 per bushel up to as high as $7.50.

    If the only people hurt were U. S. food consumers (not everybody drives a car, but everybody eats), it would be bad enough.  But the U. S. grows and sells more corn than any other nation, and much of it is exported to poorer countries, where it is a staple in many diets.  While the rise in corn prices was not solely responsible for the worldwide inflation in food costs that led to food riots in many nations in recent years, the timing is suspicious, and there is no question that the ERISA law led to hardships for many poor people around the world who were now even less able to afford to eat….

    Unintended consequences show up all the time in considering engineering ethics, and the ERISA mandate has plenty.  The parties who appear to have benefited are:  growers of corn and producers of corn-based ethanol (a lot), the U. S. driving public (a little), and the U. S. overall, from the viewpoint of slightly improved energy security.  The losers include refiners (who have had to fool with the mandate and change their processes), anybody who buys corn (U. S. food consumers, U. S. livestock growers, and millions of foreign food consumers, many of whom are poor), and the U. S. public in the sense that they have had to pay the 45-cent-a-gallon subsidy through the U. S. treasury.  Quite a mixed bag, to say the least.

    On the Air France 447 crash of June 1, 2009:

    While we will never know why co-pilot Bonin (the one with least experience) did what he did, the fact remains that at 2:10, he pulled the stick back and basically kept it there until it was too late to correct his mistake….

    In older aircraft, the two pilot sticks are mechanically coupled together, so only one message goes from the cockpit to the ailerons. If two pilots disagree on what to do with such a stick, they find themselves literally fighting a tug-of-war in the cockpit, and most reasonable people would react by at least talking about what to do next. 

    But even in the autopilot-off mode, the Airbus sticks could be moved independently, and the plane responds to the average of the two sticks’ motion. To my ears, this sounds like a software engineer’s solution to a human-factors problem. In the event, even though the senior pilot eventually did the right thing with his stick, the computer averaged it with Bonin’s all-way-back stick, and the stall continued. 

    … I hope the software and hardware engineers working on the next Airbus rethink their strategy of independent sticks and averaging. While human-machine communication is important, this accident emphasizes the fact that interpersonal communication in a crisis is vital. That single additional channel of communication through a mechanical link between sticks might have been enough to avoid this accident. 

     

    On the show Mythbusters:

    Hyneman and Savage are really doing what used to be called “natural philosophy,” back when philosophy really meant the love of knowledge, and not some arcane specialty that you have to get a Ph. D. in to understand, which is mostly what it means today. Before about 1800, most science was done simply because people were curious and wanted to know whether a thing was true or not. There were no huge funding agencies, no boards of proposal review or journal referees—just a few curious guys (it was nearly all guys then) who got together in coffee shops and wrote each other letters about their experiments. And because there was almost no organized industry producing scientific instruments, they had to build almost all their equipment and experiments themselves.

    Hyneman ran a special-effects shop before getting involved with MythBusters, and so the very hands-on demands of that type of work (especially before digital technology took over movies to the degree it has) gave him a set of skills that fits very well into the kind of things required by the MythBusters shows. So his lack of formal scientific training isn’t really a disadvantage—instead, he goes about things the way the average guy with time on his hands might look into them. 

    Somewhat to my regret, I noted that the Wikipedia biographies of both stars list them as sympathetic with the skeptic or atheist turn of mind. While such a philosophy may be an advantage in their particular line of work, it is by no means a necessity….

    The MythBusters people deserve credit for popularizing both science and how to do dangerous things safely. Their latest mishap, although attention-getting, could have been a lot worse, and I’m sure they will be more careful in the future while investigating questions from the past, such as whether a cannonball could really breach a stone wall. And I’m glad they are continuing a long-established tradition of science for science’s sake—even if they are interrupted by messages from their sponsors.

     

    _______

    *This joke is the property of MrsDarwin.


  • Our own, and not our own.

    Last week, the 13-year-old whom I co-teach two days a week, the daughter of my good friend M., did not come to my house with her younger sister to learn Latin and History with me, or English with my other friend H. She was off all day "shadowing" a ninth-grader at a high school near her home, a well-regarded "classical academy," because she and her family are trying to discern whether high school for her, instead of homeschool, is the best choice for their family next fall. So I gave a quiz in Latin (so she wouldn't miss anything), and her "classmates" (H.'s sixth-grade son and mine) worked on history by themselves — an ordinary sort of lesson, I saved the art project for the next time — and we thought about her all day while we were serving lunch and later making tea.

    Yesterday, we asked her how it went. "It was really fun," she told me. "The girl I was with was one of those really fun, bubbly types. She had a weird schedule. We sat with her friend at lunch, and the friend had been homeschooled. Pottery class was fun — I made an ear. I went to an astronomy class, and that was really interesting."

    M. told me: "She really liked it. It's only four miles away from the house, too — she could ride her bike to school."

    H. told me with no little pride: "They were studying the Iliad in English class, and she got to participate in the discussion." I found a brochure in their kitchen she had brought home: "Why Study Latin?" explaining all the benefits to logical thinking, future language study, and vocabulary building. I wondered how I — I mean she — would do when she took a placement test before beginning school.

    If she takes the placement test, I mean. "She isn't in yet. But she probably will, because they have a lot of attrition and turnover between eighth and ninth grade. And of course it isn't decided yet."

    There is so much to think about here.

    First, the inevitable: Can our kids really be this old? When I met this girl she was barely walking, toddling around with a piece of cake that fell off her plate and that she subsequently trod upon. I watched her learn to talk. She was the little girl whom I looked to to learn what I, the mother of a firstborn a bit younger than she, had in store for me in a year or so. It was bad enough when she turned thirteen last year, but can she really be getting ready for high school work? I guess I had better start getting our family ready too.

    Next: if she goes to school next year, I will miss her so much! You might think that it would be more work to teach three than to teach two, but it really is not so. She is so delightful and adds so much to the discussions we have. The kids do a lot of teaching each other, of course, and it warms my heart to see someone so serious about printing labels on her maps clearly and legibly, about making the sketches and diagrams so detailed and beautifully colored. She loves writing verse that doesn't just tell the story, but that sounds elegant to the ear and has accurate meter. She loves composing sentences. And I truly enjoy working with her — it is a real motivation to create a good lesson, for a young woman who will be eager to do the work and learn from it. I had been planning to teach the kids proof-based geometry when they had all finished enough algebra — I just know she would love it, all those constructions and careful logical steps, and I was more excited about teaching her and sharing that (admittedly really geeky) passion I have for the subject than I was about teaching anybody else.

    But: Whatever is best for her, well, I want that too. I will be so sad to see her leave our little school group. ("She'll come back around three in the afternoon," H. said to me hopefully this morning. "The boys won't be done with their work yet. Maybe she'll want us to tutor her.")

    Still, the school exists for the child, not the child for the school. We don't send our children into the schools of any kind to spend hours per day just so they can improve the general environment. We send them to school to learn and grow and to gather, not to spend themselves for someone else's benefit. I know this. Most homeschoolers do. We are familiar with the accusation leveled at us that we, the involved parents, are selfishly keeping our children to ourselves instead of sending then away to strengthen the peer group at the neighborhood public school, instead of sending them out to float a foundering diocesan school system, instead of employing them to prop up the fragile charter-school movement. And of course we hope that the public school system will be stronger, that the diocesan schools will thrive, that the charter-school movement will flourish, because everyone is better off when there are plenty of good choices.

    But every family's first responsibility is to its own health, safety, and growth. That is the whole purpose of being in families: to know and be known, to grow and to thrive, protected and cared for as someone's "own." Communities, extended families, even "chosen" extended families like our little tribe, all exist to support those little cores of "own-ness," not to supplant it.

    So I want what is best for this young lady who is not mine, even if I have to do some work, letting go and standing back, learning to watch. As with so many other things, she is still teaching me what I have to look forward to.