Monkey Business

August 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.

Impaired Judgment

September 5, 2017

Twenty-five years ago, we were helping to address the problem of steroids in sports, as well as other performance or appearance enhancing substances. We segued to concern for creatine use and then to caffeine over-use. Today the emerging epidemic is opioids.

As we moved over the years from one drug-related concern to another, we were reminded, and did some reminding, that none of these concerns posed as great a health threat to students as either tobacco or alcohol.

Laws and public opinion have reduced tobacco use across much of daily life in America. It’s universally accepted that both smoking and smokeless tobacco are unhealthy, and smoking is explicitly prohibited in most public and private places where people gather. Smoking is no longer cool; smokers are sent out into the cold.

However, the same cannot be said about alcohol consumption. Public drinking has been accepted in an increasing number of unlikely places, including college sports venues. Never mind that alcohol is a frequent factor in college academic failures, campus damage and even student deaths; alcohol sales are showing up at college stadiums nationwide.

Booze and college football have been closely linked for years – the staple of the tailgating culture. But, college sports’ addiction to more and more money is now bringing booze inside some of the stadiums. About 50 universities are selling beer at games this season.

Some college administrators say their motivation is not money but an effort to match the spectator experience found at professional sporting events. But isn’t that really about money too?

I stopped taking my family to Major League Baseball games after my young son was bathed in a spectator’s beer; and I left a National Football League game early – never to return to another NFL game – after being exposed to too much “spectator experience” over-energized by alcohol.

I prefer the high school setting.