Monkey Business

July 23, 2013

During the summer weeks, "From the Director" will bring to you some of our favorite entries from previous years. Today's blog first appeared Aug. 24, 2012.

I hesitate to assert that my wife and I are hikers, but we certainly are avid walkers. Walking is a routine of our daily life; and it’s a highlight when we travel. Walking is the means by which we absorb the sights, sounds and smells of each locale, while faster modes of tourism pass us by.

One of my wife’s delights as we travel is to discover monkeys in the wild; so sometimes monkey sighting has been the goal of walks, for example, in Costa Rica and Panama. This has made us familiar with howler monkeys; and I’m sorry to say, it’s caused me to see parallels between howler monkeys and modern media.

The growls of the howler monkeys send messages through the treetops. One howler begins, and others forward the message for miles. I’ve been told by locals (I’m no expert) that the monkey culture doesn’t reward creativity and that there’s an expectation that the message at the end of the line is the same as it began.

Sort of like forwarding an email, photo or video; or sharing a posting on Facebook. Or like the wire services’ distribution of news through traditional media. It’s rare that anyone vets the information; and retractions or corrections are even rarer.

I read in Barbara Kingsolver’s novel The Lacuna that the most important thing about a story, and about a person, is what you don’t know, which gets to the heart of the weakness of much of modern media. Yes, because of the volume of information in today’s 24/7/365 “news” cycle with thousands of channels and the universal access to reporting news through social media, we’re likely to get most of the facts, eventually; but the salient and true facts are likely to be lost in the rush and the clutter.

Set at a time before television, Kingsolver’s protagonist in The Lacuna writes in 1946: “The newsmen leap on anything . . . The radio is the root of the evil, their rule is: No silence, ever. When anything happens, the commentator has to speak without a moment’s pause for gathering wisdom. Falsehood and inanity are preferable to silence. You can’t imagine the effect of this. The talkers are rising above the thinkers.”

However real that observation would have been then, it’s clear today that cable television, talk radio and the Internet have raised the talking-without-thinking effect to heights that would have been unimaginable in the 1940s.

Criticism

October 18, 2011

The phrase “throw in the towel” comes from the sport of boxing.  It recalls a manager throwing a towel into the ring to stop a bout in which his boxer is getting badly beaten.

Over the years I watched a lot of administrators of schools and school sports throw in the towel as they’ve watched their ideas and ideals get bruised and battered, and as they suffered constant and frequently unfair criticism.

Criticism is a fickle thing.  It can be motivating or maddening.  To some people criticism is one or the other; to other people criticism sometimes has a positive effect, sometimes the opposite.

Criticism from a well-informed source who has tried to see the matter from multiple perspectives and who delivers the opinion privately will almost always have two positive effects.  First, it will influence future thought processes and decisions.  Second, it will establish a closer relationship – even a good friendship – between the parties.

It is criticism based on bad information or from a biased viewpoint delivered by gossip or in group settings that is least productive to the cause and most poisonous to the community.

But even bad news badly delivered can be motivating.  While sometimes it may give rise to brief thoughts of “why bother?”, it more often motivates me to work harder, to serve better, to think wider and deeper, and to give more.  This reaction is a result of many life experiences, including school and college sports participation.

Those of us who played competitive athletics were subject to much criticism throughout our playing careers.  Sometimes it was unfair, and we learned to rise above it.  But usually the criticism was from a coach who knew his or her stuff, who thought we could do better, and who was giving us the information to become better.  While some people merely survive criticism, competitive athletics can teach us how to thrive on it.