The Office Holiday Party

The company I work for throws a pretty lavish Holiday Party. It was last night. Free drinks for the first 2 hours, appetizers, a buffet, music (too loud) & dancing in an interesting space, plus a taxi-chit for the ride home —all-in-all I'd call that pretty generous. Just about everyone drinks too much during the open bar period, so you really have to go nuts for that to be much of an issue. And people look forward to it, it's morale builder and widely appreciated I'd say. People who get transferred to another division will do almost anything to get themselves an invite.

But it's still an office party, which makes it fraught.

Skillfully negotiating any social interaction is a challenge. Doing so with your colleagues is an order of magnitude harder: there's the extra layer of explicit power relationships imposed over top of all the normal complexities of human interaction; then there's the weirdness of managing the gap between one's workplace persona, and the one we display in more normal social situations.

I went into this year's party with two main objectives. The first: don't get drunk. In this I succeeded, but, yeah, sort-of depending on your definition of drunk. I had at least 2 drinks more than I really intended or wanted but far from enough to make me stupid, or sick. Good for driving? No. So one or two weak-assed cheers me! But drinking more than intended gave me the opportunity I did get to think about how I react to social pressure.

It's a weirdness of mine (or is it?) that I seem to want to maintain a distance from people while not wanting to seem aloof or remote. I thus accept that extra drink so easily. Fear of judgement makes it hard for me to open up and just be who I am. And not just at work, I do it in most other groups I'm part of. So I don't want to be the guy who's not drinking (what a prude!) or the guy who's way out-of-control (how embarrassing!). No I'm middle-way guy. That's why Buddhism comes so easily.

Two years ago at this same Christmas party I sat down to talk with a co-worker who had gone a bit too far at that open bar (open a full 3 hours that year). I thought I was just being friendly and doing the circulate thing (better word than network). I realized quickly that my co-worker's excesses were due to an issue at home. A big issue. Never got the full details and I was reluctant to pry but also willing to support this colleague as best I could. The thing that really floored me though was being asked for general relationship advice because (slurred): you've got it all figured out, you've got it all together.

I was very deeply depressed at the time.

My career was in the dumps, as I thought everyone at work must know. My family life wasn't entirely ruined but it was heading in that direction, and I had neither idea nor energy for combating or reversing those realities. I felt I had no one to turn to and no one to who could understand, and here was a colleague looking at me as though I had the answers! It was an eye-opener.

I wish (and hope) I was able to provide some solace to my colleague, who is still working here —we both act now as though it never happened, which may be true on one side, given the level of intoxication— but I wish I had opened up more about my own struggles. Not for sympathy but because it might've been helpful to that troubled colleague to know about the vast gulf between perception and reality.

It maybe isn't surprising that my own turn around from depression started around that time. Learning about that perceptual chasm was strangely helpful to me, and so now with hindsight I wish I'd thought and been courageous enough to reciprocate. But it was a co-worker, and so the whole framework of work-relationships and how-will-this-look-tomorrow, and how-much-do-I-trust-this-person came into play also, and I shrank from being fully a friend (I hope too that part of my reticence was a genuine wish not to turn the conversation into one about me; and I also can forgive myself because it wasn't until much later that I had any idea how powerful that knowledge could be).

So my other main objective at this year's party was to be more authentic. To be present and fully available to those around me. Did I succeed? Nothing came up that really tested me. Nothing of course, except those 2 extra drinks.

Maybe next year.

Operation: Christmas!

Sunday marks Advent 1. It's the Christian church's New Year's Day, and the day I consent to turn on our Christmas lights and start listening to Christmas music. Scroogish as that may be, 5 weeks of Jingle Bells is quite enough, thank you very much, and I really don't want to feel like screaming by the time December 25th actually rolls around and the Little Drummer Boy comes into my hearing for the 400th time. So I've put limits on the duration of the holiday season. Christmas needs to be smaller.

Last year a number of my Facebook acquaintances (and at least one family member) made a big show of the fact they were going to use the phrase "Merry Christmas" as opposed to, I suppose, "Happy Holidays" or perhaps "Go to Hell" (they weren't always clear). I think they were signing on in spirited defense of Christmas. And good for them! From a Christian perspective I think Christmas needs some defending. Maybe they're a bit late —because it seems the war has already been mostly won by the bad guys— but better late than never, and Christians should relish a lost cause!

The problem is this victory over Christmas hasn't been won by a few well-meaning school boards or other public institutions making the holiday smaller, it's been won by large corporations —that big eastern syndicate as Lucy says so memorably in A Charlie Brown Christmas— making it bigger. Whatever Christmas is today, it sure isn't a religious holiday, unless perhaps you're a member of the Church of Mindless Over-Consumption and Enforced Jollity. Christmas has become something so pervasive, so all-encompassing & enormous that it can't be restrained or limited by some puny public agency deciding to call things by names like Winter Festival Concert, or Holiday Tree. The "season" swallows about 15% of the year! Who knows how much of our disposable income is burned along with the yule log? Obviously it's enough to turn loss-making retailers profitable!

These earnest Christian acquaintances of mine aren't fighting the right fight. Or more accurately they're on the wrong side. In trying to get everyone to join them in saying "Merry Christmas" to all-and-sundry, far from defending the holiday, they're actually participating in this enlarging of the season. Dragooning non-Christians into saying "Merry Christmas" (or harassing them by saying it) isn't going to make the country more Christian. It's going to make non-Christian people resentful and additionally siphon away whatever religious meaning remains in the holiday (surely must be sucking air by now). Those who aren't already committed Christians will drain the word "Christmas" of its original connotations, increasing the space for that eastern syndicate to define the season in its profit-making interest.

Peace on earth, goodwill towards all? Yes, please! But why not save the rest of it for church, where it'll be understood and appreciated more!

New Adventures In Party Democracy

Two very nice gentlemen came to my door this weekend, to invite me to join, but not join, but sorta kinda join the Liberal Party of Canada. Particularly they wanted me to do so if I was excited about Justin Trudeau  and his candidacy for the leadership of that party.

Don't know how I missed this, but it seems that any voting age Canadian (who is not currently a member of another national political party) can become a hemi-demi-semi-kinda-Liberal and participate in the leadership festival. You don't even have to pay anything to get this hemi-demi-semi-kinda membership. I was intrigued until I remembered I didn't fit the profile (re. non-membership in non-Liberal national party).

I'm not decided on the merits of Just Justin. He's certainly got a lot of the qualities one wants in a modern candidate for high political office, cosmetic though they may be. And perhaps there's something more solid there too. I'm really not sure. Going up against Stephen Harper you could do worse.

Still, I was brought back to thoughts about the dangers of this way of electing party leaders. I wrote about this a good long while ago (before the blog went  into hiatus) in relation to the Liberal's last leadership decision. The post certainly wasn't prescient about how Michael Ignatief might do (although maybe I could argue he did better than Stephane Dion would've done) but I've seen nothing to convince me I'm not right on the basic point: party democracy has a very anti-democratic dark side. It disempowers the sitting Member of Parliament in favour of a diffuse party apparatus and thereby the Prime Minister. I would argue also that the negative effects include a big drop in the overall quality of candidates for office, since many smart, talented people, knowing that back-bench MPs are powerless unless they reach the cabinet level, stay out of the arena. This approach seems to take things even farther in that direction.

I want to think more about this, since I'm less convinced now than I was that geography-based representation is the best way to aggregate diverse opinion on national issues, but it's what we've got, and while we've got it it'd be nice to make better use of it.

Why "The Wolery"?

In the Winnie-The-Pooh books, Owl is the character all the others regard as wise. He lives in the grandest house in the Hundred Acre Wood, and has impressed them all with things like his ability to spell his very own name: Wol. As Pooh puts it, "If anyone knows anything about anything, it's Owl who knows something about something". In The House at Pooh Corner, his home, impressively called The Chestnuts blows over in a storm, and all you really need to know about Owl is that while others go off to find him a new place to live, he sets about thinking up a good name for it. He comes up with "The Wolery".

Owl is the embodiment of what we now would call a pundit. He has the reputation of wisdom because it appears he can do some of the things wise people are thought to do (i.e. write), and he always talks about the things he thinks he knows with great authority. If the Hundred Acre Wood had a 24-hour news channel, he would have his own show, a little out of prime-time maybe, but it would be long-running and serious.

So why call a blog The Wolery? Notwithstanding the fact I just plain like the name (and Winnie the Pooh) I have to admit to having a little bit of the Owl in me (and a fair bit of Eeyore too, if you really want to know). I tend to like my big words, serious, rambling conversations, and those lovely big ideas that aren't really so big. I think a bit too well of my own thoughts and ideas (which are almost always, in the end, someone else's thoughts or ideas). This blog is partly here for me to get some ideas out into the world, and partly to help me find my voice as a writer. My fear is that I might tend toward some of the worst aspects of punditry (over-certainty, reductionism, arrogance). So my blog's title is meant to remind me of those not-so-endearing tendencies, and hopefully will help me rein them in, keep me honest, and humble in the face of a complex & chaotic reality. I hope my audience, if I ever find one, will also aid in that quest.

PLES RING IF AN RNSER IS REQIRD

Now THAT'S technical writing!

XKCD shows that a vocabulary of the 10,000 most commonly used words is all you need (at least for rocket science):

Fiscal Realities Are Usually Imaginary

Listened to Ontario Minister of Education Lauren Broten this morning.

I cringe whenever I hear a politician say something about "fiscal realities" in the tone of someone bravely facing up to an unpleasant but permanent and immutable Truth. It's rare that this is actually the case. Politicians are the ones who decide what the fiscal reality is, so it's almost always disingenuous of them to whine about it, or ask for a pass because of it, when they themselves decided on it.

In Ontario right now, we are facing a large imbalance in our finances which admittedly cannot continue indefinitely, but which is also not yet a true crisis (no one is threatening to stop lending the province money). The government however has decided to attack the imbalance aggressively, using its legislative muscle to overturn the contractual rights of public sector workers and roll back salaries and other benefits they enjoy, while curtailing their ability to bargain through their unions over the shape those roll-backs might take.

As a piece of public policy I think this is very heavy handed, and continues the bad precedent of using legislatures to force change that could well have been achieved through negotiation. But what I want to say here is that it's not "fiscal realities" that are forcing the government into making "hard decisions" but rather something almost completely the reverse. The government has decided to prioritize maintaining current (or slightly reduced) levels of revenue (taxes + borrowing) ahead of maintaining current (or slightly reduced) levels of public service, particularly in education, for what seem to be the craven and cowardly fear of the way a high budget deficit plays in the press.

In other words, it's the fear of making hard decisions that has forced the government into embracing the canard of fiscal realities; the political equivalent of "the devil made me do it".

The government wants you to think there are no choices in the face of what it calls: reality. What's actually real is its ranking of competing priorities.

Did you yawn and miss it?

Barack Obama mentioned global warming in his victory speech last night! Specifically he included a line on the destructive power of a warming planet. It went by pretty quickly, but it was there. May we start to hope the issue is taken up again? A carbon tax? Cap-and-trade? Other carbon abatement programs?

There's still that small matter of a hostile Congress, but: fingers crossed!