It’s possible that I shall make an ass of myself. But in that case one can always get out of it with a little dialectic. I have, of course, so worded my proposition as to be right either way (K.Marx, Letter to F.Engels on the Indian Mutiny)
Friday, June 19, 2020
How police departments can identify and oust killer cops
Temitope Oriola, University of Alberta The global condemnation of the death of George Floyd, one of the latest in a constellation of officer-involved deaths of unarmed civilians, has grown into a worldwide social movement for disbanding or defunding police. At the far end of the debate, there are those calling for abolishing the police altogether. On the other hand, there are those wishing to defund the police. This means shifting significant material resources from police departments to social services for issues such as mental health. In cases of mental distress or welfare checks, for example, social service providers intervene rather than police, who have proven ill-equipped to deal with people in mental distress.
There is growing acknowledgment that the attitude of officers towards the human rights of suspects needs to change, as do the numbers of police-involved killings. The research on excessive use of force by police and the sociological context and psychological characteristics of killer cops point to useful policy measures.
Psychological traits and screening
Killer cops and those who routinely mistreat civilians tend to be action-oriented. Research suggests that they are prone to boredom and suffer from major personality disorders. These include mood swings, impulsivity, lack of empathy, narcissism and anti-social personal disorder. Many of these traits begin early in life.
Diversity workshops, training or cultural sensitivity have limited utility to help such officers. The primary solution is to not hire them in the first place. This speaks to the need for greater psychological screening by police organizations. A 2014 report by former Supreme Court justice Frank Iacobucci, submitted to Toronto Police Service following the death of Sammy Yatim in July 2013, calls for “screening out psychopathology and screening in for desirable traits such as emotional intelligence, empathy, tolerance of diversity, and patience.”
Hire more women
Women are less likely to support use of force than men. My collaborative research in Alberta shows that women are less likely to support use of so-called less-than-lethal force options like conducted energy weapons. The evidence in support of reducing deadly force by hiring more women in police departments is overwhelming. Female officers are less likely to use (excessive) force as they deploy de-escalation techniques and engage verbally.
Police departments with a reasonable number of women tend to record lower levels of officer-involved killings. However, the number of women is important. Female officers in male-dominated police departments may exhibit hyper-masculine traits in an attempt to fit in. They may be just as brutal as men. There is no agreement on what constitutes a reasonable number. A gender-balanced police service should be ultimate priority. I suggest a minimum threshold of 40 per cent female officers.
University graduate-only officers
Officers without university degrees populate the ranks of killer cops. Officers with university degrees are more likely to request mental health support for suspects and demonstrate a higher appreciation for the complexity of social life, individual problems and subtleties of working in an increasingly diverse environment. Officers with university degrees exhibit stronger verbal skills, effective communication and empathy. The Iacobucci report recommends recruiting officers from “specific educational programs” such as nursing and social work in order to foster “a compassionate response to people in crisis.”
Ethno-racial diversity
Evidence from the United States is less settled regarding racial characteristics of killer cops. However, most studies find that white, non-Hispanic officers are more likely to shoot or kill civilians. A few studies suggest Black officers are more likely to shoot and kill civilians. These have been criticized for poor methodology. In Canada, most killer cops appear to be white men. An ethno-racially diverse police service is integral for building public trust and inclusivity.
Training
Much of the current training for many police organizations focuses on deployment of lethal force or marksmanship. That’s a waste of time and sets up officers for frustration given today’s realities. Once out of training, officers realize that people get meaninglessly drunk, abusers beat their spouses and citizens experience psychotic episodes. Somehow, the police are required to respond to all these matters. These are in fact some of the most common issues brought to police attention. These scenarios may be frustrating for action-oriented officers. Action-oriented officers may see only moral failing in each case and respond with disdain and unnecessary force.
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Rise of the SWAT team: Routine police work in Canada is now militarized The professional officer will see “clients” in need of bureaucratic assistance and attempt to de-escalate. There is a need to overhaul officer training and extend it to at least one full year of rigorous classroom engagement with human rights, mental health issues and diversity, among others.
Accountability
The main officer involved in George Floyd’s death had 17 complaints in his file. Three of those involved shootings, with one death. This is a poor disciplinary record.
Such officers make policing more difficult and dangerous. The Minneapolis Police Department bears responsibility for keeping such a person in service. Undesirable people may sometimes enter into police service but must be promptly removed once their engagement with colleagues, superiors and the public begins to reflect certain troubling patterns. The Alberta Serious Incident Response Team (ASIRT) charged two officers in June 2020. They were the first charges brought forward against officers by ASIRT since its establishment in 2008. This is mind-boggling given incidents of excessive use of force in Alberta. Tolerating errant cops is dangerous for public trust.
The way forward
I propose a two-pronged policy — a “kill-and-go” policy and “three strikes policy” — for police accountability. Kill-and-go means any officer who kills an unarmed civilian or a suspect who had a weapon but did not deploy it against an officer is dismissed from service and prosecuted. The three strikes proposal is similar to the disused California anti-crime law of the same name. Any officer involved in three excessive use-of-force incidents in which a civilian is mistreated and sustains injuries is automatically dismissed from service and prosecuted. There should be no expiry to each strike across an officer’s career. Policing is also a well-paying occupation relative to entry qualifications and length of training, at least in Canada and many parts of the U.S. The RCMP notes that the annual salary of a newly sworn-in officer is $53,144 and increases to $86,110 within 36 months of service. There are postdoctoral fellows working on life-saving biomedical research who make less than $50,000 a year, despite possessing hard-earned PhDs. The government and public should get value for the money spent on police by selecting appropriate people. Temitope Oriola, Associate Professor, Sociology, University of Alberta This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Animals that can do math understand more language than we think
Erik Nelson, Dalhousie University It is often thought that humans are different from other animals in some fundamental way that makes us unique, or even more advanced than other species. These claims of human superiority are sometimes used to justify the ways we treat other animals, in the home, the lab or the factory farm. So, what is it that makes us so different from other animals? Many philosophers, both past and present, have pointed to our linguistic abilities. These philosophers argue that language not only allows us to communicate with each other, but also makes our mental lives more sophisticated than those that lack language. Some philosophers have gone so far as to argue that creatures that lack a language are not capable of being rational, making inferences, grasping concepts or even having beliefs or thoughts.
Even if we are willing to accept these claims, what should we think of animals who are capable of speech? Many types of birds, most famously parrots, are able to make noises that at least sound linguistic, and gorillas and chimpanzees have been taught to communicate using sign language. Do these vocalizations or communications indicate that, like humans, these animals are also capable of sophisticated mental processes?
The philosophy of animal language
Philosophers have generally answered this question by denying that talking parrots and signing gorillas are demonstrating anything more than clever mimicry. Robert Brandom, a philosopher at the University of Pittsburgh, has argued that if a parrot says “red” when shown red objects and “blue” when presented with blue ones, it has not actually demonstrated that it understands the meaning of those words. According to Brandom — and many other philosophers — understanding the meaning of a word requires understanding both the meaning of many other words and the connections that exist between those words.
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Can we really know what animals are thinking? Imagine that you bring your toddler niece to a petting zoo for the first time, and ask her if she is able to point to the rabbits. If she successfully does, this might seem like a good indication that she understands what a rabbit is. However, you now ask her to point to the animals. If she points to some rocks on the ground instead of pointing to the rabbits or the goats, does she actually understand what the word “rabbit” means? Understanding “rabbit” involves understanding “animal,” as well as the connection between these two things. So if a parrot is able to tell us the colour of different objects, that does not necessarily show that the parrot understands the meanings of those words. To do that, a parrot would need to demonstrate that it also understands that red and blue fall underneath the category of colour, or that if something is red all over, it cannot, at the same time, be blue all over. What sort of behaviour would demonstrate that a parrot or a chimpanzee did understand the words it was using? As a philosopher who focuses on the study of animal cognition, I examine both empirical and theoretical work to answer these types of questions. In recent research, I argue that testing an animal’s arithmetical capabilities can provide insight into just how much they are capable of understanding. In order to see why, we need to take a brief detour through the philosophy of mathematics.
Counting animals
In the late 1800s, the German mathematician and philosopher Gottlob Frege tried to demonstrate that arithmetic is an objective science. Many philosophers and mathematicians at the time thought that arithmetic was merely an artifact of human psychology. Frege worried that such an understanding would make arithmetic entirely subjective, placing it on no firmer ground than the latest fashion trends.
In The Foundations of Arithmetic, Frege begins by logically analyzing what sorts of things numbers are. He thinks that the key to this investigation is figuring out what it takes to answer the question “how many?” If I hand you a deck of cards and ask, “How many?” without specifying what I want counted, it would be difficult to even figure out what sort of answer I am looking for. Am I asking you how many decks of cards, how many cards all together, how many suits or any of the other number of ways of dividing up the deck? If I ask, “How many suits?” and you respond “four,” you are demonstrating not just that you can count, but that you understand what suits are. Frege thought that the application of number labels depends on being able to grasp the connection between what is being counted and how many of them there are. Replying “four” to the question “How many?” might seem like a disconnected act, like parrots merely calling red objects “red.” However, it is more like your niece pointing to the rabbits while also understanding that rabbits are animals. So, if animals are able to reliably respond correctly to the question “How many?” this demonstrates that they understand the connection between the numerical amount and the objects they are being asked about.
Animal mathematical literacy
One example of non-human animals demonstrating a wide range of arithmetical capabilities is the work that Irene Pepperberg did with African grey parrots, most famously her subjects Alex and Griffin.
In order to test Alex’s arithmetic capabilities, Pepperberg would show him a set of objects on a tray, and would ask, “How many?” for each of the objects. For example, she would show him a tray with differently shaped objects on it and ask, “How many four-corner?” (Alex’s word for squares.) Alex was able to reliably provide the answer for amounts up to six. Alex was also able to provide the name for the object if asked to look for a number of those objects. For example, if a tray had different quantities of coloured objects on it including five red objects, and Alex was asked, “What colour is five?” Alex was able to correctly respond by saying “red.” Pepperberg’s investigations into the ability to learn and understand basic arithmetic provide examples that show that Alex was able to do more than simply mimic human sounds. Providing the right word when asked, “How many?” required him to understand the connections between the numerical amount and the objects being asked about.
Animal mathematical skills
While Pepperberg’s results are impressive, they are far from unique. Numerical abilities have been identified in many different species, most prominently chimpanzees. Some of these capabilities demonstrate that the animals understand the underlying connections between different words and labels. They are therefore doing something more than just mimicking the sounds and actions of the humans around them. Animals that can do basic arithmetic show us that some really are capable of understanding the terms they use and the connections between them. However, it is still an open question whether their understanding of these connections is a result of learning linguistic expressions, or if their linguistic expressions simply help demonstrate underlying capabilities. Either way, claims that humans are uniquely able to understand the meanings of words are a bit worse for wear. Erik Nelson, Phd Student, Philosophy, Dalhousie University This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Remote work: Employers are taking over our living spaces and passing on costs
Richard Shearmur, McGill University As many office workers adapt to remote work, cities may undergo fundamental change if offices remain under-utilized. Who will benefit if working from home becomes the post-pandemic norm? Employers argue they make considerable savings on real estate when workers shift from office to home work. However, these savings result from passing costs on to workers. Unless employees are fully compensated, this could become a variant of what urban theorist Andy Merrifield calls parasitic capitalism, whereby corporate profits increasingly rely on extracting value from the public — and now personal — realm, rather than on generating new value.
The allure of remote work to employers
After three months of remote work, some companies are moving towards permanent home-based work: Shopify, for instance, has announced that its employees will continue to work from home after the pandemic. Indeed, pre-coronavirus estimates suggest savings (for the employer) of about US$10,000 per year for each employee who works from home. Though employers are backed by a chorus of remote work proselytizers, others note the loneliness, reduced productivity and inefficiencies of prolonged remote work.
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How remote working can increase stress and reduce well-being Whatever the personal and productivity impacts of remote work, the savings of US$10,000 per year are the employer’s. In effect, this represents an offloading of costs onto employees — a new type of enclosure. In 16th-century Britain, powerful landowners expropriated common land from communities, often for the purpose of running lucrative sheep farms. Today, businesses like Shopify appear to be expropriating their employee’s private living space.
The CMHC does not report rental values for three-bedroom apartments; it only reports the average rental value for apartments of three bedrooms and more. Obviously, the average rent for apartments with three bedrooms is less than the average rent for apartments with three bedrooms and more. I assume that if an employee moves from a two-bedroom to a three-bedroom apartment, the increase in rent is 66 per cent of the increase in rent between a two-bedroom and a three-bedroom-plus apartment. The extra costs (and savings) an employee would incur working from home, and adding an extra room for work purposes, are presented below. Transportation savings are modest — half the value of a monthly pass, because it’s assumed employees will still need to move around the city for some work purposes even while working from home.
Employers offload these costs onto employees. This would be a form of expropriation, with employees absorbing production costs that have traditionally been paid by the employer. This represents a considerable transfer of value from employees to employers.
Employees will be properly compensated. In this case, employer real estate savings will be modest.
If savings are modest, then the many advantages of working in offices — such as conviviality, rapidity of communication, team-building and acclimatization of new employees — will encourage employers to shelve the idea of remote work and, like Yahoo in 2013, encourage employees to work (most of the time) from corporate office space. Richard Shearmur, Professor, McGill School of Urban Planning, McGill University This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
The day is dawning on a four-day work week
Karen Foster, Dalhousie University Like any crisis, the COVID-19 pandemic is an opportunity to rethink how we do things. As we near the 100-day mark since the pandemic was declared, one area getting a significant attention is the workplace, where a window is opening for good ideas to move from the fringes to the mainstream. For example, when millions more Canadians started working from home, many businesses were forced to experiment with telecommuting. Interestingly, many now say they’ll continue after the pandemic passes, because it benefits employers and employees alike. Another idea, less widely tested than telecommuting, is generating buzz: the four-day work week. New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern raised the possibility of a shortened work week as a way to divvy up jobs, encourage local tourism, help with work-life balance and increase productivity. As a sociologist who teaches about work and wrote a book about productivity, I believe she’s right.
Not a compressed schedule
A four-day work week must not be confused with a compressed schedule that has workers squeeze 37.5 to 40 hours of work into four days instead of five. For reasons that should be clearer below, that won’t help us now. A true four-day workweek entails full-timers clocking about 30 hours instead of 40. There are many reasons why this is appealing today: families are struggling to cover child care in the absence of daycares and schools; workplaces are trying to reduce the number of employees congregating in offices each day; and millions of people have lost their jobs. A shorter work week could allow parents to cobble together child care, allow workplaces to stagger attendance and, theoretically, allow the available work to be divided among more people who need employment.
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A four-day working week could be the shot in the arm post-coronavirus tourism needs The most progressive shorter work week entails no salary reductions. This sounds crazy, but it rests on peer-reviewed research into shorter work weeks, which finds workers can be as productive in 30 hours as they are in 40, because they waste less time and are better-rested.
Shorter work weeks reduce the number of sick days taken, and on their extra day off, employees don’t use the office’s toilet paper or utilities, reducing their employer’s costs. Therefore, while it is counter-intuitive, it’s possible for people to work less at the same salary while improving their employer’s bottom line. That people might have to spend more of their own money on toilet paper is a concession most workers would probably accept. The same body of research also has more predictable findings: people like working less.
Entrenched morality of work
If it makes this much sense, why don’t we have a four-day week already? It turns out this question is more than 150 years old. Some of the answer pertains to the logistics involved in transforming our whole system of work, that’s not the entire answer. After all, the work week has been reduced before, so it can technically be done again. The rest of the reason is rooted in capitalism and class struggle. Thinkers from Paul Lafargue (“The Right to Be Lazy,” first published in 1883) to Bertrand Russell (“In Praise of Idleness,” from 1932) and Kathi Weeks (“The Problem with Work,” from 2012) have concluded we resist worktime reductions in the face of supportive evidence — and our own desires for more leisure — because of the entrenched morality of work and the resistance on the part of “the rich” to “the idea that the poor should have leisure,” in Russell’s words. We are extremely attached to the idea that hard work is virtuous, idle hands are dangerous and people with more free time can’t be trusted.
Four-day work weeks floated in the 1930s
Nobody is suggesting evil governments conspire with evil bosses to keep powerless people busy. As historian Benjamin Hunnicutt has shown, there was significant interest in shorter work hours in the 1920s and 30s, when the 30-hour week was touted as a way to “share” the work among the Great Depression’s unemployed and underemployed citizens.
Even industrialists W. K. Kellogg and Henry Ford supported a six-hour day because they believed more rest would make for more productive workers. But Hunnicutt’s research in Work Without End reveals that some employers cut wages when they cut work hours, and when employees fought back, they dropped their demands for shorter work hours and focused instead on wage increases. In the complex push and pull of capitalism, eventually even the New Deal, which influenced policy and discourse in Canada, shifted away from its early demands for more leisure toward demands for more work. It’s quite possible we will do the same in our COVID-19 moment, and beg to be put back to work five days a week when this is all over. But we have new reasons for considering shorter work weeks, and they might be more widely persuasive. It is also possible that we have finally given up on the false promise that working longer will translate into better lives. The four-day work week could be another wild idea that makes it through the pandemic’s open policy window. Karen Foster, Associate Professor, Sociology and Social Anthropology and Canada Research Chair in Sustainable Rural Futures for Atlantic Canada, Dalhousie University This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
100 days of coronavirus has sent shock waves through the food system
Evan Fraser, University of Guelph The COVID-19 lockdown has exposed a large number of problems in the food system. Whether it was the panic buying or workers in meat-packing plants testing positive for the virus, serious concerns have been raised about the resilience of the processes we depend upon for our daily bread. At the same time, the people who process our food, keep our grocery store shelves stocked and run our farms have, to a large extent, managed to adapt to the greatest disruption in our generation.
A timeline
We begin our journey of celebrating these accomplishments, and reflecting on these challenges, in March. At the start of the shutdown, Canadians were shocked and scared to see grocery store shelves empty as the first wave of panic buying depleted inventories. In retrospect, this was a relatively short-term problem, and the supply chains worked hard to restock shelves. Government helped in several ways, including by allowing stores to restock 24 hours a day. In addition, front-line food system workers received some hazard pay and there was a rapid expansion in grocery delivery services. It wasn’t very long after this that the main food-related pandemic story was focused on Canada’s restaurants. When the hospitality sector shuttered, over a million jobs, and tens of thousands of businesses, were lost. This also threw a wrench into our supply chains since systems that were set up to feed restaurants and cafeterias had to pivot to meet the rising demand from grocery stores. As families reconnected over home-cooked meals and pondered planting community gardens, we also became aware that what we eat at home is different than what we eat at restaurants. The demand for home baking supplies soared while potatoes, which mostly are eaten in restaurants as French fries, went to waste. The industry also struggled with packaging. When restaurants purchase items like eggs or flour, they tend to buy in much larger quantities than when individual families do, so products went to waste as the packaging system worked hard to adapt.
Marginal workers
The next major food story related to temporary foreign workers as international travel bans caused panic among farm groups. Canadian farmers depend on tens of thousands of foreign workers coming to our country every year. The government responded by expediting visas and providing some money to farmers who suddenly had to retrofit dormitories to allow for quarantining and social distancing. These workers have arrived in Canada, and some of them have tested positive for the virus after contracting COVID-19 here. At least two have died. Mexico has consequently barred any additional seasonal workers from coming here, at least temporarily.
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Coronavirus: Canada stigmatizes, jeopardizes essential migrant workers Overall, worker health, farm income and Canada’s harvest are all under threat. Workers in meat-packing plants like Cargill in Alberta also started falling ill, and at least three died. At one point, almost 75 per cent of Canada’s beef-processing capacity was shut down as companies struggled to keep workers safe. Plants reopened after retrofitting to allow for social distancing, but this continues to threaten worker health, has hurt productivity and caused backlogs in the system that reduce farm income. It also led to animals being euthanized.
Both the migrant worker and meat-processing plant situations reveal an uncomfortable truth about Canada’s food system. The people we depend on the most to keep us fed are often the lowest paid, the most exposed to hazardous circumstances and have the most precarious employment and immigration status. These issues should prompt a much-needed national conversation about how we treat labourers in the food system.
Food insecurity
Lastly, one of the most significant COVID-related food stories is the rise of food insecurity in Canada and internationally. From the beginning of the crisis, food banks witnessed startling increases in the number of people needing assistance. Governments responded by putting money into the emergency food sector in unprecedented amounts.
The United Nations has warned, however, the world faces famines of “biblical proportion” due to both challenges in the supply chains, along with the economic cost of the pandemic.
A national conversation
The pandemic has caused ripple effects in the food system in Canada and around the world. But there are silver linings to this otherwise dark cloud. Despite the challenges, the system has performed remarkably well, and Canadians should be thankful for the ingenuity, selflessness and hard work that has gone into keeping us all fed. At the same time, the problems revealed over the last 100 days illustrate profound structural vulnerabilities. Society is at a teachable moment, and we should take advantage of the lessons we have learned and establish the policies, programs and technologies to ensure our food system becomes stronger, more resilient and more equitable in the years to come. This is why the Arrell Food Institute at the University of Guelph has teamed up with the Canadian Agri-Food Policy Institute — and other stakeholders from across the food system — to launch “Growing Stronger: Aiming for Resilience in our Canadian Food System.” If you would like to provide input, please consider uploading thoughts to our online portal. The author would like to thank artist Scott Mooney for the illustrated timeline pictured above. Evan Fraser, Professor, Director of the Arrell Food Institute and Tier 1 Canada Research Chair in Global Food Security, University of Guelph This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Global urbanization created the conditions for the current coronavirus pandemic
Extended urbanization happens within a capitalist framework of massive inequality. The food, gas, electricity and water that make urban life possible are often packaged, piped, cabled and plumbed into the city. Urban lifestyles are sustained by vast networks of infrastructure and industry that reach into environments well beyond. These relationships are profoundly shaped by the exploitation, injustice and oppression that capitalism relies on and perpetuates. The colonial character of urbanization violently transforms material landscapes and destroys, diminishes and confines imaginaries of difference, resistance and possibility. Uneven development produces the potential for inevitable and sometimes unpredictable catastrophes. In 2019, natural disasters devastated regions from Australia to California to Mozambique; the poor, working class, Indigenous and ethnic minorities were disproportionately affected. In other words, those on the periphery, physically and metaphorically. In California, prison labour — increasingly managed by private companies — is used to fight wildfires. Meanwhile, animals and other non-human life trying to escape scorched landscapes change their relationships with humans as was the case during the Australian inferno that began in September 2019.
Anthropocentric imaginings
Science fiction, which often occupies its own kind of literary periphery, can help us examine and imagine new human-nature relationships. In Christopher Nolan’s 2014 movie Interstellar, humanity attempts to escape nature — and its own nature — by becoming a God-like, post-human divinity that can control black holes and wormholes. In contrast, in Denis Villeneuve’s 2017 film Blade Runner 2049, sustainability and food efficiency are achieved in a post-capitalist manner: the globe is covered in solar panels and synthetic farms. What remains is a deeply divided planet, and the political ecologies of extended urbanization are classed, racialized and gendered.
The way in which capitalist states and enterprises address crises like fires, floods and the COVID-19 pandemic are illustrative: governments behave like ostriches by burying their heads as extended urbanization and capital expansion continue unabated. Blaming environmental destruction on all of humanity obscures the variable degrees to which people are responsible; this depends both on their economic and political power and their access to and use of natural resources. It isn’t urbanization alone that caused the pandemic, and it isn’t capitalism alone either. It is the political ecology of extended urbanization that created the conditions under which COVID-19 could emerge, proliferate and go global. Roger Keil, Professor, Environmental Studies, York University, Canada; Maria Kaika, Professor of Urban and Environmental Planning, University of Amsterdam; Tait Mandler, PhD Candidate, Anthropology and Urban Planning, University of Amsterdam, and Yannis Tzaninis, Postdoctoral fellow, Sociology, University of Amsterdam This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.