Olympics and patriotism

As humans we organize ourselves into groups. Our family might be nuclear or extended, patrilocal, matrilocal, bilocal, ambilocal, or neolocal. We organize ourselves economically (in terms of our vocation), religiously, artistically, and in terms of entertainment. We also form political groups on municipal, provincial, and federal levels.

Patriotism is the force binding people at this national level of grouping, and it is akin to a very powerful, addictive drug. This drug makes people feel really good about themselves: they want to sing and dance, tears stream down their cheeks, and they feel very, very proud for simply belonging to a nation state.

Perhaps it is a good thing for a nation state to take this drug now and then. During the Olympics, people in this country felt really good about being Canadian. We began as a nation to collect medals like so many stamps, treasuring our first gold medal in a Canadian Olympics, and celebrating 14 gold medals and 26 in total. Gosh, the pride was palpable. People are still debating whether Sidney's goal was the most important in Canadian hockey history.

However, this drug has a strange and dangerous side effect. While it definitely increases one's emotions and desires, it also seems to inhibit our capacity for reason.










One very ugly example of this took place in the run-up to WWI. An Austrian arch-duke was assasinated by a man who wanted an independent Serbia from the Austro-Hungarian empire. Germany supported Austria that was suppressing this eventuality. Russia supported the Serbs, France was bound by treaty to support Russia, and England was bound by treaty to support France. Canada, as part of the British Empire, was very involved from the outset. During the months leading up to the outbreak of violence, the streets of the capital cities of Europe were thronged by hundreds of thousands of demonstrators clamouring for war. The drug of patriotism had driven people into a mass frenzy, and they demanded that their governments declare war. Eventually, the heads of states did indeed declare war, and patriotic people throughout Europe threw themselves over the top of the trenches to die in the millions. Throughout the British Empire, including Canada, people would give to those able-bodied men not in uniform a 'white feather of cowardice' in public displays of humiliation.

This is just one example of how unbridled patriotism can prevent us from exercising our reason. The basis for that war was downright silly. I am not convinced that had clearer heads prevailed in early 1914, the problems might have been worked out at a conference of all the stakeholders. However, the drug of patriotism was simply too strong, and reason was set aside. My point is this: the drug that inspired people to run into machine gun fire is the same drug that inspired tears of joy at Canada's gold medals.

Now that the Olympics are over, we can set aside this drug for a while.

My daughter's education

My daughter has chosen her courses for grade 12, and is looking ahead to what she will take when she gets to University. She is very good at all of the sciences, pure and otherwise, and up until a little while ago she thought she would like to enter the medical profession. However, for various reasons, including her perception that many doctors don't have a social life, and her perception that the medical world is intellectually far too limited in scope, she has decided to follow a different direction.

About 6 months ago, she started asking me questions about a General Bachelor of Arts degree. I have told her that the purpose of such a degree was to introduce the student to a wide range of human knowledge: for one to graduate, a certain number of subjects need to be drawn from the Humanities, Social Sciences, Fine Arts, Sciences, and English. A graduate from a such a program knows much about many things, and is truly 'educated' in a traditional sense. I also told her not to listen to what Mother Culture is currently whispering in her ear. Indeed, a general trend seems to consider education as more of a 'skill', like dentistry, or accountancy, and something into which a student can enter immediately after graduation. However, this idea is a relatively new one in our culture. Historically, an educated person knew much about what it is to be human in a particular society at a particular time. I hold this traditional view, that while pharmacy is critically important to society today, a pharmacist is probably not truly 'educated'. He or she has not had to and probably has not taken courses in Philosophy (in which a person learns how to think critically), Political Science (what it is to be a political animal), Economics (how economies and business works), History (where we have come from, and perhaps where we are going), Art History (the compendium of our culture's art to this point), Sociology (how society functions), Anthropology (what it means to be human from a cultural and physical standpoint), Psychology (how our minds work), Geography (how the earth works), Biology (the study of life), Physics (the study of the physical world), Religious Studies (what religion is all about), and on and on. A General BA requires that one learns the basics of just about every human intellectual endeavor, and by doing so it broadens one's scope, makes one more tolerant, perhaps more humble, and in the end a better citizen in society. If she wants, she can learn a 'skill' after she is done her BA, and with her background, she will pick it up easily, quickly, and will flourish in it.

As it stands at this point, and even though society continually tells her that she would be wasting her time taking general arts courses, nevetheless she would like to take a BA. As her father, my heart sings. If our roles as parents are to prepare our children to flourish in our culture when it is time for them to spread their wings, there is nothing I can think of that will prepare her better for what is to come. By doing this she will become truly educated in a way that only the super elite of society - the wealthy,connected, male aristocrats - could be even 100 years ago. She will stand on the shoulders of giants, learning things that remain difficult to access and learn outside of the regime of a BA program. Our culture will pass her a precious torch.

Sport's Leap Year

Every four years, the stars line up and the sporting world is exceptionally good.








This year began with a very compelling NFL post season, with clearly heroic New Orleans prevailing through to a very exciting and interesting Super Bowl. The season was made even better for me because this is the first year my son has really enjoyed watching football with me, and we shared a Fantasy Football we called the Rat Bastards. Also, my friend Mike in New Orleans has season tickets to the Saints, and sometimes we would call him on his phone while he was there at the Superdome.










Shortly after the Superbowl, the Winter Olympics began, and it is still all around us, everyday. People talk about their impending trip to Vancouver or Whistler to see an event, and my boy's band played at the torch relay in the build-up. Those who have made the trip to Vancouver rave about the atmosphere at the events and in downtown Vancouver. In the Winter Olympics, we get excited for the first time in four years about bob-sleighing and luge and skeleton, and all the other odd and obscure winter olympic sports. We as Canadians love to beat the US in anything, and while we rarely do so in the Summer games, we have been able to do so repeatedly in these Olympics.








After the Olympics, the Stanley Cup Play-offs will begin and run for 6 weeks, with a game on TV nearly every evening. This is when NHL hockey really means something, and as a sports fan it is impossible not to get caught up in it all. The Vancouver Canucks have a legitimate shot at going deep in the play-offs this year, and the hope around here is palpable. Perhaps this is the Canucks' year, celebrating their 40th anniversary as a franchise, and 40 straight years without a Stanley Cup.








During this time, the final games of the English Premiership and Champions League of soccer will be played. My hope is that Arsenal will prevail over dreaded Manchester United and Chelsea at home, and win the European Champions Cup.











This summer, the World Cup of soccer is being held in South Africa. For me, this is the biggest sporting event in the world, easily eclipsing in appeal the summer olympics. We will get to see the elegant and superb Spanish team play the hard-nosed but brilliant Germans, the whining and ultra-conservative Italians, the creative Dutch, and my favourite, the English, and those are just the European sides. The Africans play with zeal and love to take risks, with Ghanaians throwing three forwards into the opposing team's box, and the Nigerians and Ivory Coastans seem to get better every year. The South Americans are led by the ever brilliant Brazilians, and the whining and loathsome Argentinians never fail to get under peoples' skin. The World Cup is about personalities of both individuals and national teams, and it is always filled with drama and beauty. Can't wait.

A Golden Time

To be sure, our culture has its problems. However, compared to other times in western civilization, we live in a golden period.

This coming week we are covering the Malleus Malificarum (Witch's Hammer) in Liberal Studies. This book was ordered by Papal Bull in 1475, written by two theologians, and represents to me the nadir, the rock bottom, of western civilization. It is a treatise on how to identify, try in court, and execute witches. Some estimate as many as 9 million people were executed as witches during this period, and that the Malleus had much to do with it. Who were these witches? One of my Liberal Studies students (Linda Andrew) has summed nicely the definition in the Malleus :

“A witch is anyone who has evil intentions, a pact with the devil, and permission from God. However, and most importantly, a witch is anyone, regardless of rank, age, or wealth who is so accused by a “reliable” witness—the attributes of and the crimes committed in her “witchfulness” are applied according to the results of her interrogation.”

The Malleus represents to me many things. Institutionalized religions often become far too powerful, and during these times, often very important decisions are made on the basis of faith, rather than on reason. I like to think that we as a culture today make better decisions than the theocracy of the 15th Century Western Europe. Rather than being persecuted as witches, midwives are now honoured by many as experts at delivering babies. While South Park writers may argue that red haired people have no soul, gingers are no longer burned to the stake for their hair colour and therefore obvious witchfullness. People today can decide for themselves what if any religion they choose to follow, or even speak out against religions' excesses, abuses, and dogmas, without fear of being burnt to the stake.

Cute Shmute

My kids are no longer cute. Of course, I liked them when they were little and cute, but 'cuteness' is limited in its appeal. I think we all start out cute because it is Mother Nature's way to ensure that we are nurtured and protected when we are vulnerable and weak. However, perhaps because I am a dad and not a mom, I am happy that they are no longer so cute.

The reason is that they are much, much more interesting now than when they were little. While my 16 year old daughter is still as affectionate as ever, she is now clever and intelligent, and has a really good sense of humour. It brings me joy that she gets my jokes, even if she rarely thinks them funny. She will understand the plot twist to a movie well before most people. Our conversations are always interesting, and they often involve humour.

As for my son, he plays bass guitar in a four-piece rock band. He loves all those 60's and 70's greats like Pink Floyd, The Beatles, and Led Zeppelin, and as I pass his room I will often hear the strains of something like 'Kashmir' or 'Little Wing'. The general tenor and level of our discussions about music is worlds beyond those we had about Power Rangers just a few years ago. Aidan and I also share a love of sports, and he is now a much better soccer player than I ever was. I like to watch him play soccer, as I find his playing style, well, interesting, and wonder just how much of it is genetic, and how much nurture.

I really liked being a dad to two young and cute children. However, and quite surprisingly to me, being a dad to interesting children is far more satisfying and fun.

My Son's Soccer Game

Last year at about this time, my son's Rep soccer team, for which I am the Team Manager, played and lost to the Comox Rep soccer team, allowing Comox to advance to play in the Provincial Cup. It was a heartbreaker of a game, which saw our side take an early lead, surrender a goal to tie, and then lose 2-1 in the dying minutes. Throughout this past year, the team has been gearing for the re-match last Sunday. On a cool, February day, our boys defeated the Comox side 2-1.

Since last Sunday's victory, I have been thinking a lot about team sports, and why it is that we play them. I suppose in our culture we are raised to be independent people, and playing on team sports takes our culturally nurtured competitive dispositions to the collective level. In other words, we treat our team as the individual. This means that we are not upset if we are benched in favour of someone on our team who is fresher, and that we share together in the victories and defeats, the highs and lows. To be successful, we must truly trust other human beings, and we must learn and accommodate each other's strengths and weaknesses. But it is more than this. I think it has to do with joy.

Over the past year, I have seen our team deal with the loss of this game. They opened the season in September winning a number of games in a row, some of them to teams a year older. However, over three games, we met Comox twice, and were defeated by them both times. It was as if Comox had become a 'bogeyman', haunting the spirit of our boys' team. Our boys were certainly as skillful and determined, but this just didn't seem to be enough. However, over the last two months, our excellent coaches have encouraged continually and argued persuasively that we can in fact beat this team. We were able to build on the victories against Comox in two indoor soccer tournaments either side of the Christmas break, and throughout 2010, the idea that we could beat Comox began to grow.

In the pre-game warm-up last Sunday, our boys looked determined. Our Head Coach tuned them up before the game as if they were stringed instruments before a recital. She let them know in general terms that they could win, and in specific terms how it could be done. Every boy listened intently, and each knew he was responsible in some way for the outcome.

I recall certain parts of the game very clearly, particularly the build-up to both of our goals, and the lapse in the back line that led to the Comox team's first and only goal about 7 seconds before the ref blew his whistle to end the first half. The scoreless second half was extremely intense. Comox was often able to prevail in the vertical game, wresting from us nearly every high ball with their chest, head, or otherwise. However, our mid-field was collected and ever so skillful, and continually stopped their rush, delivering with precision the ball to our forwards. We substituted one of our players to the back line with the express purpose of marking their speedster forward so as to shut down their through balls to him. Our back line did not allow the Comox forwards entry into our 18 yard box. The final whistle, after 3 minutes of injury time, rang through the air, seemingly forever. I remember jumping in the air for joy, and looking across the field where our parents had collected and seeing them jumping up and down and hugging each other.

Our boys experienced a joy that perhaps only team sports can bring. It is a joy that is earned through commitment, skill, and a ton of hard work. I am not sure, but I think that to experience this level of joy, one has to first experience heartbreak, pick up the pieces, build up confidence, and then find redemption.

Olympic hockey

It is a pleasure to watch Olympic hockey because it is not nearly so violent as the NHL. The Olympic national teams are comprised of highly skilled players, and the 'goon' element has been left at home.

I live in a country where people feel very protective of hockey, and are unwilling to see it change as has other sports. I remember as a kid, when a baseball pitcher went a little too far in pushing the batter off the plate to allow for outside pitches to catch the plate for a strike, and hit the player, often it led to the batter storming the mound and taking a swing at the pitcher, which then led to bench clearing brawls. However, such things are a rarity in baseball today: in fact, I cannot recall seeing such a thing in baseball for at least a decade. Rule changes and penalties have nearly taken it out of the game.

There is an argument in Canada that hockey is a game that requires a pressure valve. Big people who skate really fast wield sticks that are sometimes used to club other skaters, and the hockey 'fight', it is argued, is an opportunity for everyone - the combatants, other players, and fans - to relieve the pressure. These fights, then, are thought to be cathartic, and actually healthy for all concerned.

This argument is full of holes. Baseball is a much more frustrating game than hockey. Players sit in a dug-out for long periods of time, nervously and passively watching a game unfold, and when the camera sweeps the dug-out, one can sense the pent up tension in the players. Nevertheless, fighting (once part of the game), has since been almost completely removed from it. Nevertheless, records continue to fall, players flourish, and the game seems as healthy as it ever was. At any rate, I have never once heard a sports commentator argue that baseball is any less of a game because people no longer fight.

Second, this argument instructs us that in order to deal with stress, we must engage with other people using our fists. This is what might be expected of young children who 'can't find their words'. That such purging is healthy is simply ridiculous: if one is truly overcome by stress, one ought to learn culturally appropriate ways to deal with the stress, beyond punching someone in the face repeatedly. In other sports, the rules evolve to meet new sets of circumstances, so that referees can enforce rules that serve to lessen stressful situations. Soccer is a really good example: while none of us like the diving at the international level, at the same time, gratuitously injuring people is now almost absent from the game, as is fighting. The NHL might need to treat the disease of highly stressful situations so as to eliminate the symptom of fighting.

Two weeks ago, one of our Campbell River Under 14 boys hockey teams played a road game in Gold River. A few days after the game, I heard from a reliable source that one of our boys had punched the referee in the face. Later, I was told that the controversy in the hockey community was whether this boy should be given a two or a three game suspension. I find such appalling behaviour and such leniency towards it remarkable. Can we be certain that such youths will be able to distinguish what is appropriate at the hockey rink from everyday life? Will they treat policemen, judges, teachers in the same way as they do referees?

And so, why is such behaviour permitted (and perhaps even encouraged) in the NHL, and not in the Olympic games? The standard answer, of course, is that NHL hockey fans like the fighting, and the Olympic games require a higher standard of behaviour. My hope is that the youth of Canada watch an Olympic gold medal game in which the cleanest, most skilful team prevails.