I
spent last summer working
for
a
nongovernmental
organization in Delhi, India.
One weekend I took a day trip to
see the Taj Mahal. On the bus back,
I struck up a conversation with
a fellow traveler — a deceptively
young-looking Swiss man. He
had
spent
months
traveling
throughout Latin America and
Asia. Toward the end of the bus
ride, he summarized his travels
with a comparison. He told me
“our” societies in the West are
different than in non-Western
countries. In the West, he told
me, we share fundamental values
and a way of life. He thought
Argentina was more Western
and thus felt more at home there.
Back at my office in Delhi, one of
my bosses would make similar
comments, comparing “Western”
America with “Eastern” India. For
Westerners, it often seems that
understanding foreign cultures
is easier by comparing them to
the West, which ostensibly has
a similar set of values, or shared
civilizational
foundations.
But
comparisons
that
contrast
a
totemic “Western world” with the
rest of the world are misleading
and problematic.
The “West” is a racial and
religious category. For a country to
be Western, it must have a majority
white population and a history of
Christianity. Japan is a democratic
country with a capitalist system
but is not Western. Latin American
countries are debatably Western
just as they are debatably white.
The
categories
of
race
and religion do not have the
explanatory power to sufficiently
understand another individual
or society. To understand the
differences between life in China
and France today, you cannot
simply consider the differences
between Christianity and being
white
with
Confucianism
or
Daoism and being Han Chinese.
Doing so would not give you any
meaningful
understanding
of
the differences between modern
France and modern China, nor
of people that live in the two
countries. But, when people talk
about the “West,” they don’t
usually think it as a religious
or racial category, at least not
consciously. So, what do people
mean when they compare the
“West” to the rest of the world?
The idea of Western values
and civilization as fundamentally
different from those of “Eastern”
or non-Western societies stems
from
European
imperialism.
Europeans tried to schematize
the vast swaths of people they
encountered with the endgoal
of
maintaining
imperialism.
Guided by “social Darwinist”
ideas, the scholarship of non-
Europeans by 19th-century and
early 20th-century Europeans was
terribly flawed. The comparison of
the West and the rest of the world
developed to simplify human
diversity in a way that justified
the subjugation of “primitive”
races and peoples by an advanced
assortment
of
“Western”
countries.
For example, James Mill, the
leading
19th-century
British
“scholar”
of
Indian
history,
made sweeping conclusions that
Indians and other non-Western
colonial subjects were primitive.
He shrugged Indian intellectual
advances,
like
the
creation
of the decimal system, or the
philosophically-rich
Bhagavad
Gita, as primitive “hieroglyphics.
The British, he concluded, could
spread their advanced, Western
thought and technology to the
primitive peoples of the East.
Today, the idea of the West
versus the rest of the world is by no
means as racist as it was during the
age of imperialism. As Amartya
Sen, a Nobel Prize-winning Indian
economist, noted in his book
“The
Argumentative
Indian,”
Westerners who today rely on the
simplifying comparisons to the
West often do so because they
want to understand other cultures
rather
than
dominate
them.
Understanding
other
cultures
through simplified comparisons
with the West can help people
intensify their own identities
through contrast, as Edward Said
noted in his theory of Orientalism.
But, use of the comparison of the
“West” and the rest of the world
should still be avoided.
Today, the most politically
influential version of comparing
the West to the rest of the world is
Samuel Huntington. His seminal
book “Clash of Civilizations and
the Remaking of World Order”
asserted the world was divided
into distinct civilizations that
naturally opposed each other. He
attributes the primary difference
between
Western
civilization
and other civilizations to the
development of liberalism rooted
in individual rights and liberties
in the West. This way of thinking
is rife with potential for prejudice.
The idea that non-Europeans
have different, lesser civilizational
values is a strong argument against
an inclusive immigration policy. If
too many non-Westerners live in
the West, how long before “their”
civilization
replaces
“ours”?
Similarly, if each civilization has
such distinct values and character,
then maybe more progressive
“Western values” of human rights,
women’s rights or democracy
are not legitimate outside the
West. This civilizational way
of
thinking
is
attractive
to
Western
xenophobes,
Islamic
fundamentalists
and
dictators
alike.
Luckily, it isn’t hard to discredit
Huntington’s divisive argument.
The development of individualism
and liberalism can be found in
non-Western
histories.
Early
versions
of
private
property
existed in the Qin dynasty starting
in 221 B.C. Mencius, a disciple of
Confucius, thought anyone could
become emperor on the basis of
their merit. He also conceived of
an early social contract by which
an emperor could be overthrown
if his rule did not benefit the
people. In India, Amartya Sen
argues in “The Argumentative
Indian”
a
long
tradition
of
heterodoxy, public reason and
tolerance laid the groundwork
for democracy. And Indian rulers
like Ashoka and Akbar ruled a
tolerant and multicultural empire,
where religious tolerance, choice
and
interfaith
dialogue
were
encouraged. And even in histories
where finding liberal traditions
are harder, like Japan’s, liberal
ideas and governance can still
be adopted, as is the case with
modern Japan.
If you’ve taken any liberal
arts classes on a modern college
campus you might agree with
me. A key principle for many
liberal arts courses seems to be
to warn you not to essentialize or
generalize. Essentialism can be
defined as “attributing natural,
essential
characteristics
to
members of specific culturally
defined
(gender,
age,
ethnic,
“racial”,
socioeconomic,
linguistic...) groups.”
It is easy to look at the world
through
generalizations
that
explain
dizzying
difference
and complexity through simple
comparisons of different social
groups. But that same thinking,
though not inherently racist or
bigoted, contributes to some of our
biggest social problems. All forms
of bigotry hinge on essentialism
and
generalizations.
Thinking
with less essentialism and less
generalizations would promote
individualism
and
tolerance,
something that should attract both
liberals and conservatives.
Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Wednesday, October 24, 2018
Emma Chang
Ben Charlson
Joel Danilewitz
Samantha Goldstein
Emily Huhman
Tara Jayaram
Jeremy Kaplan
Lucas Maiman
Magdalena Mihaylova
Ellery Rosenzweig
Jason Rowland
Anu Roy-Chaudhury
Alex Satola
Ali Safawi
Ashley Zhang
Sam Weinberger
DAYTON HARE
Managing Editor
420 Maynard St.
Ann Arbor, MI 48109
tothedaily@michigandaily.com
Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.
ALEXA ST. JOHN
Editor in Chief
ANU ROY-CHAUDHURY AND
ASHLEY ZHANG
Editorial Page Editors
Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily’s Editorial Board.
All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors.
EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS
ANAMARIA CUZA | COLUMN
Algorithm prophecies
Y
ou might have heard
the
stories
about
the
oracles
of
Greek
antiquity, who were able to
make prophetic predictions. You
might be familiar with the name
Nostradamus, whose prophecies
are even nowadays picked up by
those who predicted that 2012
would be the end of the world.
You probably made fun of these
people’s beliefs in prophets,
prophecies or anything related
to inferring “facts” about the
future because, as educated
people, we know that we live in
a chaotic world where the future
cannot be predicted accurately.
Still, our brains do not seem
to have the same reactions when
we talk about predictions. You
can find article after article on
how you can “How to predict the
NBA with a Machine Learning
system
written
in
Python,”
and paper after paper on an
“improved model for predicting
presidential election outcomes.”
Stop using gods, and start
using numbers and variables,
change the word “prophecy”
to “prediction” or, even better,
“forecasting” and you suddenly
have a “fact” about the future,
that is worthy of academic
papers and headlines. There
is something about the idea of
certainty that makes us shiver
with delight. That need for
certainty has brought us back to
the same mindset that made us
believe centuries ago in Pythia,
the priestess of the Temple of
Apollo at Delphi.
The
problem
with
this
mindset
is
not
inherent
in
predictions.
After
all,
scientists use models to make
predictions to ease the process
of understanding the world.
Even though these techniques
aren’t always accurate, they are
modeling
biological
patterns,
not the unpredictable behavior
of humans or societies. Our
fascination with peeking into
the future, though, pushes us
to use predictive models in
psychology, trading or even
politics. One algorithm was built
to predict revolutions, but while
it was capable of predicting an
insurgency in Paraguay, it didn’t
foresee the uprising in Ukraine.
The people involved in building
the model argued that the
project’s end result wasn’t the
prediction itself, but the testing
of geopolitical theories. It was a
way for researchers to rethink
their
theories,
to
reanalyze
dogmas.
Predictive
algorithms,
though, have a way of creating
new dogmas. The complexity
of
the
models,
the
usually
untraceable prediction process,
combined with people’s greater
trust in numbers than in fellow
humans, makes us take the
prediction’s result for granted.
The Correctional Offender
Management
Profiling
for
Alternative Sanctions algorithm
predicts a defendant’s risk of
committing another crime. After
several years of being used by
many states across the U.S.,
a 2018 study showed that the
COMPAS model was no better at
predicting a person’s likelihood
of recidivism than volunteers
randomly selected from the
internet. Still, back in 2013, Paul
Zilly was convicted of stealing
a push lawnmower, leading the
prosecutor to recommend a
year in county jail. Instead, the
judge suddenly overturned the
plea deal, imposing two years
in a state prison. His reasoning?
He had seen Paul Zilly’s high-
risk score from COMPAS. He
had
allowed
his
judgment
to be guided by a predictive
model that was no better in its
predictions than a random group
of volunteers.
Today’s predictive models
are probably better equipped
in making sense of the future
than
the
prophets
of
past
centuries. After all, these kinds
of algorithms are fed immense
amounts of historical data from
which
they
start
observing
certain patterns. But what if
particular
human
behaviors,
economic
fluctuations,
and
revolutions are bound to happen
outside of historical patterns?
That is where these algorithms
fail.
The problem is when we
forget that these predictions
are doomed to have their
failures. We forget because
we rejoice in the idea that
algorithms give us certainty
in a world of uncertainties.
We allow ourselves to get
trapped in the same idea
that made people seek out an
oracle’s prophecies, the same
idea that made them analyze
Nostradamus’s
writing
to
predict the 2012 apocalypse.
If we are so afraid of the
coming revolution of artificial
intelligence
and
algorithms
that will take over our jobs, we
should take a moment to reflect
on the inherent imperfection
of these systems, and on our
own imperfections as humans.
After all, adding these highly
complex models into our daily
lives only leads to one more
element of uncertainty. The
same uncertainty that we have
been dealing with since the
beginning of humanity. Once we
can understand that technology
will most likely add a layer of
uncertainty to our lives, instead
of playing into the false sense
of certainty we’ve craved for
centuries, we can start grasping
the way our humanity will merge
with algorithms.
The West vs. the rest
AARON BAKER | COLUMN
Anamaria Cuza can be reached at
anacuza@umich.edu
Aaron Baker can be reached at
aaronbak@umich.edu.
On Oct. 17, the Washington
Post published Khashoggi’s
last
column,
which
coincidentally described the
realities of the Arab media
community that contributed
to
the
suspected
motives
behind his disappearance.
The column comments on
the misinformation and lack of
information available for Arab
citizens due to the censorship
and suppression tactics of the
hegemonic governments that
control the media. Khashoggi
mentions
the
unfair
imprisonment of his friend,
Saudi writer Saleh al-Shehi,
as an example of an atrocity
that failed to capture the
attention of the international
community, an example that
carries the somber irony of
foreshadowing in the context
of Khashoggi’s own situation.
He goes on to caution the
world about the free reign
afforded to Arab countries
when journalists are unable
to
safely report on
their
experiences.
It’s easy to feel helpless
when confronted with issues
of international scale. The
nuances of global politics are
difficult to comprehend, let
alone influence, but in this
instance,
we
as
members
of
the
media
community,
readers and writers alike,
are
presented
with
an
opportunity to effect real
change.
Khashoggi’s
final
published paragraph imparted
the need for more Arab voices
to be elevated in publications
through the creation of an
independent
international
forum, aimed at addressing
the
structural
problems
affecting Arab societies today.
We as an editorial board,
wholeheartedly support the
creation of such an entity
and encourage our readers to
support
organizations
that
start initiatives to highlight
Arab voices in journalism in
the coming years. Regimes
are temporary, but culture
is
durable,
and
cultural
change cannot be effectively
achieved
without
strong
and loud voices with high
platforms. As members of
the global community, we
are
actively
witnessing
a
political culture of predation.
It’s
our
imperative
to
facilitate appropriate avenues
for change when we can.
Khashoggi spent a lifetime
dedicated to the cause of
illuminating the Arab world
for Western readers. The least
we can do is help other Arab
journalists honor his memory
by shining that same light for
their own communities.
ELIAS KHOURY | COLUMN
The GOP assault on America
O
n Oct. 21, I spent a
significant chunk of my
Sunday night watching
a debate between Sam Seder, a
progressive talk radio host, and
Charlie Kirk, the executive director
of Turning Point USA. The guiding
question of the debate was “Is
President Trump helping the middle
class?” Though I already knew the
answer to this easy question — “no”
— I decided to tune in any way.
I was very much familiar with
the two participants prior to the
debate. And while things did not
go exactly as I expected, I cannot
say that I was surprised by what
transpired. Kirk was prone to
incoherent rambling with outdated
talking points sprinkled into stutter-
filled diatribes. Seder, on the other
hand, took a far more metered-
out approach, pointing to specific
Trump administration policies that
have had catastrophic effects on the
middle class.
One
specific
example
of
this was when Kirk touted the
current administration’s cutting of
regulation as advantageous to the
middle class. Seder immediately
fired
back,
citing
specific
environmental
regulations
that
have been cut with projected death
tolls in the tens of thousands. Kirk,
subsequently, was silent.
Quickly
coming
to
the
realization that he was fighting a
losing battle, Kirk began the flail.
The errand boy of GOP megadonors
adopted a new strategy in order to
cut his losses: Go, and stay, off topic.
In all fairness, this tactic worked
quite well for Kirk as he was able
to drag Seder into murky waters
that, within the intended confines
of this debate, were supposed to go
uncharted. For a significant stretch,
what was supposed to be a debate
about the impact of the current
administration’s policies on the
middle class became an argument
over
the
minutia
of
banking
procedure.
Nevertheless,
any
objective viewer came away with
the impression that Seder, though
not in peak form, won the exchange
handily.
While the actual content of
the debate left something to be
desired, the timing was absolutely
appropriate as it came in the wake
of Senate Majority Leader Mitch
McConnell’s call for massive cuts to
the two most popular government
programs — Social Security and
Medicare.
This
fundamentally
anti-democratic
move
was
proposed under the guise of “fiscal
responsibility.” Nothing could be
more disingenuous.
This is the same party that
drastically
reduced
government
revenues by passing a tax cut bill in
which 83 percent of the benefits went
to the top 1 percent. They coupled
this with increases to our already
bloated military budget which has
become less about national defense
and more about lining the pockets
of corrupt, evil war profiteers. This
abuse of the American taxpayer is
cronyism marketed as patriotism.
Unsurprisingly, the deficit has
ballooned to $779 billion and is set
to surpass $1 trillion by 2019. Rather
than making the rich pay their fair
share in taxes or attacking military
waste (the Department of Defense
spent $1.5 trillion on a fighter jet that
doesn’t work), they have decided to
continue their crusade to destroy the
programs Americans hold dearest.
They want to further eviscerate an
already measly welfare state.
The Republican economic plan
gives to the rich by taking away
from the rest of us. This is not deficit
hawkishness. It’s economic elitism.
A 62-percent majority of Americans
see the GOP as the party of the rich
— this is why.
If one is concerned about the
deficit and national debt, you should
take a good, hard look at Medicare.
There are changes in the program
that could be made that would
save the federal government a lot
of money. The key to saving money
with Medicare is to expand it.
According to a recent study
funded by the Koch brothers, a
“Medicare for all” system would
save the American people $2
trillion over a 10 year period.
Moreover, a single-payer health
care system would get rid of the
greatest national embarrassment
of all: The fact that people are dying
in the streets of the richest country
on Earth due to a lack of ability to
pay for astronomically expensive
healthcare.
As for Social Security, to cut this
program would constitute theft.
People have been paying into the
system their whole lives. To take
what they are rightfully entitled to
from them would be immoral.
In
summation,
the
latest
push by the Republicans to gut
social services has nothing to
do with wanting to be “fiscally
responsible.” It is just another
example of politicians acting as
slaves to the plutocracy rather
than standing up for what is right.
Current government policy has
been working against working and
middle-class Americans — and
things might just get a lot worse.
I urge you to keep all of this in
mind when you head to the polls
this November. Every election is a
fight for the soul of a nation. Fifty-
eight percent of Americans believe
this country is headed in the wrong
direction. Let’s do what we can to
try to turn it around.
Elias Khoury can be reached at
ekhoury@umich.edu.
FROM THE OPINION EDITORS
What we owe Khashoggi
T
he killing and alleged dismemberment of journalist Jamal Khashoggi
by Saudi operatives has sent shock waves throughout the media and
the larger international community. Calls have been made to boycott
Saudi companies and support U.S. sanctions on Saudi Arabia, but the voice
that rings clearest throughout the hurricane of emotions and opinions is
Khashoggi’s own.
It’s easy to feel
helpless when
confronted
with issues of
international scale