Rachel’s Musings

Cognitive dissonance is that feeling that we get when we believe something contradictory. It arises – to use the example from a textbook – when you think you should be on a diet but devour a huge bowl of chocolate mousse. You then start justifying your choice to minimize the dissonance.

Recently, I have been thinking about a specific cognitive dissonance: Ethical dissonance. Working at a large financial institution (FI) during the financial “crisis” is creating a lot of ethical dissonance for me. Already the fact that I put the crisis in quotes is a symptom of that: On the one hand, the higher ranks in the big FIs have profited greatly from their own disastrous decisions because the public bailed them out. None of the banksters had to give their bonuses or earnings back to right their wrongs. Then on the other, the real crisis is not in the financial services sector – it is amongst all the unemployed and former homeowners. It is amongst the rest of us who didn’t profit from scrupulous financial “innovation.” And that “innovation” continues, together with the profiteering off the backs of the rest of society. So, I think all that – and then I get paid by one of the FIs. Granted it’s not one of the worst (first attempt to minimize the dissonance). And I have to make a living somehow (another one). Plus, I am not working on any of those “innovative” products (piling up the anti-dissonance arguments). But, the bottom line is: I cannot get out of the ethical dissonance. Somehow I know that if all of us who are feeling this dissonance would quit, we could change this society that is so build around the adoration of the size of the paycheck (hmmm, I wonder what that replaced ). And I also know that to really remove the ethical dissonance, I would have to quit my job. In some ways, though, that feels like self-sabotage but maybe that is just another excuse I conjure up to relieve the dissonance without doing what is right.

I am reading two books right now that are touching on the ideas of machines in modern society. The first book is by Erich Kästner: Als ich ein kleiner Junge war (when I was a little boy). In this autobiography, Kästner describes how in his father’s lifetime craftsmen, like his father, lost their livelihood and ended up working in factories with machines to create more, cheaper goods. Or maybe they worked like machines. That is where the second book picks up. Bruno Bettelheim suggests in his book The Informed Heart that the existential struggle of our time is the balancing act between technology/science and autonomy. One of the dangers of the modern age is that we turn into machines. Kästner’s father turned from a craftsman who was more similar to an artist to a piece in the factory machinery who no longer produced a piece of art he was so proud of that he didn’t want to sell it.

I thought about all this as I was trying to convince myself to get out of bed this morning for my walk, which has become part of my early morning routine. Routine. I get up at almost the same time each morning. Get out of my bed on the same side. Put on my clothes for the walk in the same order. Warm up the same way. Is this routine turning me into a machine? But aren’t routines a necessary part of modern life? I decided to ponder this during my walk – with a slight twist: I would walk a new route and see how I’d react to that.

As I was leaving, I already noticed that putting my cell phone into my pouch the other way was creating some anxiety. This was going to be interesting! My new route would have to be about 30 minutes long. Why? Well, if I’d take longer, I would get home later, I would get ready later, and miss my bus and would be at work 10 minutes later. And what would be bad about that? Nothing really since I don’t have to punch in. I had been early a few days this week, so it would probably a wash anyway. Yet, it was clear that here was one reason for my routine: It would allow me to fit in; to not rattle the work boat by showing up slightly late because there was something on my walk that needed exploring. So, routines are part of modern life because they enable us to fit in, to abide by the status quo.

The thing I noticed on my non-routine walk: It was more fun! I felt more alive. I felt excited to see streets I’ve been on before from a different angle, a different side. And I decided not to worry about taking a few minutes longer, realizing that I’d either make up the time or just take a later bus.

The other thing I realized on my non-routine walk: Bettelheim argues to avoid becoming human machines, we cannot go back in time (become the craftsmen again) instead we need to find ways to utilize technology/science to our advantage while at the same time preserving our autonomy. And what exactly is this autonomy?

[Autonomy] has to do with man’s inner ability to govern himself, and with a conscientious search for meaning despite the realization that, as far as we know, there is no purpose to one’s life. It is a concept that does not imply a revolt against authority qua authority, but rather a quiet acting out of inner conviction, not out of convenience or resentment, or because of external persuasion or controls.” (75)

It means that we’re true to ourselves, that we don’t date just because everybody else is doing it but embrace being single if that is what makes us happiest. That we don’t marry because everybody else does it or because it’s more convenient to get the 1,300+ benefits in one package but rather refuse to marry in order to get this package because we’d be giving up our conviction that marriage is an outmoded, patriarchal institution we’d rather shun. It means that we go back to school if we’re tired of being an automaton at work even if that creates much anxiety around real and imagined issues. Essentially, it means being authentic to ourselves. The challenge is to do that despite all the societal pressures to conform (including those 1,300+ benefits or the subtle and not so subtle suggestions that there’s something wrong with us if we’re single). And at the same time finding ways of living autonomous while enabling the existence of a society because living in a social network does provide us with many benefits (including police and fire protection).

I wonder what our society would look like if we’d stop being human machines and would break out of our routines more often. Clearly, there is some use for routines – they do give us a sense of security but what price do we pay for this security? And could we have routines that also allow us to remain alive rather than turn into machines?

My bed was rather sticky this morning. No, not the kind that comes from eating breakfast in bed. The kind that comes from not wanting to get up. As my vacation is winding down, I am noticing the brewing of what Eric Maisel has called a meaning crisis. Some might call it a low grade depression. Either way, it’s making it more difficult for me to get out of bed. I managed to get up half an hour late and still go out for my morning walk. During the walk I realized what I was telling myself: I spent part of my vacation in Germany visiting family and I realized that I felt that my cousins are so much more successful than I am. Are they making more money than me? Probably not. But they are enjoying what they are doing and they are contributing something to society that is valuable. I feel like I am doing neither – after all that’s why I am changing gears – so I feel unsuccessful! On top of that I am not even successful based on “traditional” standards. While I earn a decent amount of money, at this point in my career, I probably should start moving up the ladder. Or maybe already have a few people reporting to me. I certainly shouldn’t be a little peon anymore shuffling papers. And I don’t drive an Audi, own a house, or – gasp! – have a spouse. I do have a child but sans spouse that doesn’t count. Obviously, there is something wrong here!      Continue reading this post » » »

I guess prisons are on my mind after having listened to Ruth Wilson Gilmore’s excellent talk. On my way to work this morning, I realized that for those of us who don’t like our jobs, they have turned into a prison as well. Doing time until lunch. Doing time until the end of the day. Doing time until the weekend. Doing time until the next vacation. Doing time until retirement. The imprisonment is perfected by the lack of a safety net, which is being dismantled further during this recession. If I quit my job, I’ll loose health care (or I have to pay a lot of money for good health care or settle for care that kicks in when something traumatic happens). Doing time until universal health care. Unless you’ve built up a nest egg you can tap into, you can’t afford to quit and look around. Even going back to school is becoming perilous since many schools are cutting classes and other services. Doing time until we support each other.

I wonder how many of us are out there. What would happen if we all started speaking out and demanded life-affirming jobs? What would those life-affirming jobs look like? Certainly more than shuffling papers and certainly less than 40 hours per week. These jobs would support an economy that is sustainable, not growth-oriented. And these jobs would take into account all stakeholders, not just shareholders. I’ve heard rumors that those jobs are out there, though rare gems. Doing time until finding a life-affirming alternative.

Why are we doing this to ourselves? We go like cattle to work every morning not questioning the absurdity of our whole lifestyle – how it is destroying our very ability to exist on this planet. As women, we joyfully participate in a patriarchal ritual designed to pass us from our father to another man ensuring that we never become independent. And even the little things: Why do we let men open doors for us, tuck us into our seat? Sure, it’s nice on some level but it’s also disempowering. The message is clear: We are too weak or delicate to open doors (literally and figuratively) or seat ourselves. Why do we participate in our own disempowerment?

Clearly, fear is at play. There are strong archetypes that entice us to stay on the wide path – for else we’d be beaten, poor, and unloved. As women, we’re told again and again that we need to fear the stranger as rapist and are better off in the safety of a marriage (never mind that a woman is more likely to be abused by her husband than a stranger). If we’d make our own path, we’d surely end up in the poor house and that would be horrible because money is what makes us happy!

Maybe it’s time to rethink all that… To me, though, the most important question is the why: What is keeping us from being upset over living such unsustainable and largely meaningless lives. Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe everybody is perfectly happy and I am just a disgruntled spinster… Somehow I doubt that…

(Here are some similar thoughts from Barbara Ehrenreich who is musing over the unemployeds lack of complaining… Another trance at play: We’re lead to believe that looking for a job is a full-time job therefore we don’t have time to demand, for example, that those who created the current recession be held accountable.)

On my way to work this morning, I realized that our morning rituals would probably look rather absurd to the uninitiated. There we are, by the hundreds, stuffed into these strange, weird metal boxes on wheels that take us from one spot to another only to throw us out at the end. I take an express bus, so it seems like it’s throwing up people at the first stop in the downtown area. Almost everybody leaves the bus at that stop. Then everybody hurries places not looking much around. So busy with nothing that they don’t even notice a world class violinist playing for free. Well, this of course doesn’t happen every day but they don’t even notice the little things: Like the sun’s light creating some beautiful patterns. And then all these people hurry into more boxes to sit in front of a box in a box-like area that doesn’t provide any privacy requiring that we learn to think while others around us talk (something I haven’t managed to do; maybe that’s why the ipod was invented). Then we spend all day shuffling paper, pretending to be important, and then the whole thing happens in reverse. We leave the various boxes to get back onto the metal box on wheels to go home (yet another box). Most then plop onto a big cushion staring at a box with moving pictures. No wonder most of us feel so unfulfilled! We don’t really create anything tangible. We shuffle ourselves or things around without much control over where we or the things are going. We don’t take the time to stop to smell the roses, listen to the violinist, or even just look around. Hurrying from box to box – and that’s called life?!?