Indy Telecom & Industrial Media

I rarely recommend textbooks as good reads. Not that they aren’t, of course, but they often tend to be academic in nature and therefore of little interest to anyone other than academics (and unfortunate students).

However, I’m taking a class by Professor Stephen P. Marks on World Poverty & Human Rights this Spring, and one of the textbooks is Amartya Sen’s rather excellent book Development as Freedom.

The book was such an engaging read that I finished reading it even before the start of my semester. Sen’s writing is very humanist in nature, peppered with a wry sense of humor in parts, all the while maintaining a tone that is at once both philosophical and pragmatic to the world’s problems.

Sen starts out addressing the question of whether or not freedom is conducive to development. He feels that such a question is at best defectively formulated, for reasons given below.

Sen ponders over how freedom is often dissociated from development, and considered a pleasant consequence thereof. However, Sen counters that freedom in itself should be the goal of development, and it is both constitutive and instrumental to development. He makes the argument that freedom (political, economic or societal) is central to achieving development; while freedom may result from such development, it would be unwise to ignore the inverse relationship, and true development will only happen through the proliferation of such freedoms. Furthermore, if the definition of development is to move beyond GNP and include freedom, unfree societies aren’t really quite developed.

Sen also argues against the “Lee Hypothesis”, named after the first Prime Minister of Singapore, Lee Kuan Yew. The idea behind the “Lee Hypothesis” is that democracy and freedom are luxuries that only developed societies can afford, and to become developed, less-developed societies will need to push forth agendas that may be at odds with democracy and freedom. Furthermore, a more ardent view would be that “non-democratic systems are better in bringing about economic development” for such societies.

In the same vein, he also takes to task the interpretation that “Asian Values” are inherently unsuitable and unfit for democracy, where Asia is defined not by region but through culture. The argument goes that discipline and obedience are critical traits to the Asian cultural psyche and as such, democracy is at odds with such a principle. This particular notion has had the unfortunate reputation of being exploited by authoritarian governments across Asia.

Sen counters both the “Lee Hypothesis” and the “Asian Values” argument by offering the example of the biggest democracy in Asia — India. While India has made several economic mistakes through the years, the fact that it continues to be free democracy has helped its economy grow while preserving the freedoms of its citizens. Sen also counters that the “Asian Values” argument isn’t necessarily unique to Asia, and that even within Asia, there have been differing schools of thought, including those that question blind allegiance to the state.

And of course, this book also touches upon Sen’s (now-famous) insight on famines and democracies.  He argues that famines are not necessarily caused by lack of  declines in food production but rather due to instability in the political, economic, or societal structures that leaves sections of the population unable to fend for themselves. Sen further proposes that countries that are “free” in the economic sense would have citizenry with a consistent income flow, and this income can be used to borrow or import basic necessities in times of need.

But at the end of the day, Sen concludes that true development cannot be measured through mere tangibles (e.g. GNP). Freedom remains the only true measure of development, and when there is freedom, development will follow.

(Cross posted from my International Relations blog.)

A good friend of mine remarked that South American literature reminds him of Bengali literature, and I replied back that while my knowledge of Bengali literature was scant, it did remind me of Malayalam literature. Of course, he was rather keen to observe that all four societies practice some form of Communism/Socialism or Marxism, and perhaps that may explain their obsession with the human condition.

That did set me thinking.

One of my most favorite authors of all time is Jorge Luis Borges. Unlike some fortunate souls, I did not discover Borges until a few years ago (thanks to another good friend). However, Borges to me captured the spirit of surrealism in literature (and a very intellectual feel, at that) that very few have. He combined a good narrative with what was effectively a literary puzzle, and he spoke in metaphors. His books were nothing more than ideas being put to text (or an attempt to, at the very least) and they reminded me of the artist who paints for art alone.

(This is in contrast with many writers today — who I will equate to pop singers of today — that write crass literature with the express intent of monetizing their works, as opposed to writing for its own sake.)

But make no mistake. He is just as deeply concerned with the human condition — just a tad bit differently. The Babylon Lottery mocks at the role of chance in our lives; the intellectuals of Tlön and Uqbar are making statements on idealism vs. materialism; and in Al-Mu’tasim, Mir Bahadur Ali, while a social outcast in Bombay, seeks the perfect man. My friend Juan says that Borges is for intellectuals — I would have to beg to differ and say that if anything, Borges’ works are the perfect mockery of intellectualism in all its forms.

Another author that I enjoy (whose books, as the same friend would attest to, are widely possessed (but not read) by literary poseur avant-garde wannabe readers everywhere) is Gabriel García Márquez. His writing, while set in magical realism and is quite distinct from Borges’ surrealism, reminds me of our world where the magical things are normal, and the normal things are — in their own way — magical. And of course, what is important is not their importance (or lack thereof), but rather that they are as part of the story of the human condition as a table and chair are part of the furniture in a room. Of course, they are certainly there, but that is not the point of what Márquez is talking about.

So, how many so-called postmodernist writers do I read that do talk about the human condition? And while one could certainly argue that SF (and by this I mean Speculative Fiction, the larger umbrella encompassing science fiction and fantasy) stalwarts like Herbert and Asimov (and Clarke to some extent) talk about the human condition, I would argue that is not necessarily their focus. To bring forth a quote from Stargate -

Science fiction is an existential metaphor that allows us to tell stories about the human condition. Isaac Asimov once said, “Individual science fiction stories may seem as trivial as ever to the blinded critics and philosophers of today, but the core of science fiction, its essence, has become crucial to our salvation, if we are to be saved at all.”

Therefore, while people like Asimov certainly saw the necessity of science to improve the human condition, they felt the necessity of a grassroots approach to cultivating science, and to them, science fiction was a facilitator. Therefore, while the consequences of science fiction may be improving the human condition and serve as our salvation, the necessity of talking about it in their stories was moot.

Of course, there are a few (like Gene Wolfe) that, if briefly, do touch upon the subject. But to me, Wolfe’s work is more closely related to Márquez and Borges — a fantastic literary construct in a fictional world, and art for art’s own sake.

The same goes for fantasy. Neil Gaiman uses elements of fantasy and dark humor — however, his works are not necessarily statements on the human condition.

Neal Stephenson? A blend of SF and history. William Gibson? Ditto. Joseph Heller? Satire. Kurt Vonnegut? Humor and satire.  Salman Rushdie? Political statement. Paul Auster? Mystery (and sheer absurdity).

Therefore, in my mind, postmodernist literature and the human condition aren’t necessarily related in any particular form. Sure, there are some postmodernist authors that talk about it, but then, they talk about a lot of other things too. But then, to be completely honest and fair, I’m but a novice.

So, what are people’s thoughts on this?

Paul Kedrosky talked about a blog post on Tired Fools, which talks about how in The Annals of Imperial Rome, Tacitus describes the credit crunch in ancient Rome, complete with property slump and government bailout –

Accusers were now intesely active. Their present targets were men who enriched themselves by usury, infringing laws by which the dictator Julius Ceasar had controlled loans and land-ownership in Italy. Since patriotism comes second to private profits, this law had long been ignored. Money-lending is an ancient problem in Rome, and a frequent cause of disharmony and disorder. Even in an earlier, less currupt society steps had been taken against it. At first, interest had been determined arbitrarily by the rich, but then the Twelve Tables had fixed the maximum at 10 per cent. Next, a tribune’s law had halved the rate. Finally loans on compound interest were forbidden completely. Fraudulence, attacked by repeated legislation, was ingeniously revived after each successive counter-measure.

Now, however, the praetor Sempronius Gracchus, responsible for the investigation, was compelled by the numbers of potential defendants to refer the matter to the senate. That body – being implicated to a man – nervously entreated the emporer’s indulgence. It was granted. Eighteen months were allowed in which all private finances had to be brought into line with the law. The result was a shortage of money. For all debts were called in simultaneously, and the numerous convictions and sales of confiscated property had concentrated currency in the Treasury and its imperially controlled branches. To meet this situation the senate had instructed that creditors should invest two-thirds of their capital in Italy, and debtors immediately pay the same proportion of their debts.

However, creditors demanded payment in full, and debtors were morally bound to respond. The first results were importunate appeals to money-lenders. Next, the praetors’s court resounded with activity. The decree requiring land purchase and sales, envisaged as relief, had the opposite effect since when the capitalists received payment they hoarded it, to buy land at their convenience. These extensive transactions reduced prices. but large-scale debtors found it difficult to sell; so many of them were ejected from their properties, and lost not only their estates but their rank and reputation.

Then Tiberius came to the rescue. He distributed a hundred million sesterces among specially established banks, for interest-free three year state loans, against security of double the value in landed property. Credit was thus restored; and gradually private lenders, too, reappeared. However, land transactions failed to adhere to the provisions of the senatorial decree. As usual, the beginning was strict, the sequel slack.

On that note, it is rather interesting to look at the fall of the Medici bankers. Forbes recently had an article on the Medici meltdown, which talked about how the Medician crash was caused by warfare and misappropriation of funds, resulting in a rather large credit crunch -

“The fear of being annihilated by foreign powers, combined with the lack of transparency, allowed the ruler of the Republic to turn it into an effective tyranny. With the declared purpose of defending Florentine freedom and its way of life, Lorenzo raised taxes for the war and embezzled banking funds with the result (does this sound familiar, anyone?) of creating a huge credit crunch.

“The Medici Bank… had tenuous cash reserves that were usually well below 10% of total assets. Lack of liquidity was an issue for banking since its origins. Of course, in the Renaissance they dealt with thousands or millions of florins–billions were yet unthinkable. But would a bailout have been thinkable at the time? Lorenzo certainly bailed himself and his family out of a political and financial mess with public funds. He eventually gained for himself the superlative epithet of “The Magnificent” by obtaining fforeign military support and by compromising his city’s liberty.”

It is amazing how some things never change; they only get amplified, for better or worse. Perhaps, it would be worth a reminder that history doth repeat itself.

The MIT Classics Archive has the Annals of Tacitus, and the Gutenberg project has The Reign of Tiberius, Out of the First Six Annals of Tacitus; With His Account of Germany, and Life of Agricola.

I had the good fortune of landing on a copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows a few days before its official release.

And to those fans who have been waiting for it, let me tell you this — it is more than worth it. It’s a fantastic piece of work and you will truly relish every single page of it.

The Good

As with all of the Harry Potter books, the Deathly Hallows is a deeply engaging book and you will find that just about everything that’s happened in the books have happened for a reason. For those of us who grew up reading Enid Blyton, consider this as the coming of age for the Famous Five or the Five Find-Outers.

It’s a wonderful piece of fiction that keeps you wanting more, especially towards the very end. I was so distraught when there were no more pages left to read.

And to those of you that have unfortunately come across the spoilers, do not worry. None of the deaths and none of the short snippets really matter. This book is like a journey, and nothing other than reading the whole thing can really spoil it for you.

The Bad

The Harry Potter series has been a really engaging one, but it would seem unlikely (although not totally implausible) that there would be any more books in the series. And this is not necessarily a bad thing, either (and this statement will make more sense after you’ve finished reading the books).

And I must say that while I most certainly liked the ending, I only wish the gang had spent a few more years in school.

The Ugly (i.e. minor spoilers)

Warning: This section of the post may contain spoilers. Do not read ahead unless you want to read them.