I
have had a smartphone since
I was 13 years old. And before
that, I had an iPod Touch that,
with the will of a Wi-Fi connection,
gave me consistent access to the
Internet. So for at least the last eight
years, I have been the owner of some
type of smart device. And while I
have always considered myself a
responsible person and taken care
of these devices, sometimes things
happen outside of your control. For
example, you could hypothetically
fall down the stairs with your phone
in your back pocket, affecting the
already-cracked screen and causing
the display to give out about a week
later. Hypothetically.
But regardless of the many ways
I could have hypothetically broken
my phone, it happened. I went to
pick it up, check the time and see if
any new notifications had graced
my screen, but was met with an
unresponsive device. I got slightly
irritated. And after 40 minutes of
trying different methods of getting
it to turn on, my frustration turned
to panic and I borrowed a friend’s
phone to call my parents.
I explained the situation quickly
and with the anxious breath of
someone in the midst of a crisis at
12:30 a.m., my parents agreeing to
figure it out in the morning. They
did handle it, which I am extremely
grateful for, but the process left
me phoneless for two days. I was
disconnected, apart from my old
Dell laptop which, bless its soul,
is on its last leg of life and needs to
be constantly charging in order to
work. And I know that two days
may not seem like a long time, but
try and give up your phone and
Apple account for a few days to see
the effects. It was just enough time
to make me evaluate my technology
use and the way that it has become
central to the way I live.
I initially reflected on my reaction
to breaking my phone in the first
place. Imagine the feeling you have
when you misplaced your phone
for 10 minutes and are scouring the
room for it, and amplify that by 10.
I was filled with anxiety, as though
I had just lost a hand. Phones and
mobile communication have become
so ingrained in and connected to us
that any misplacement of the device
is devastating to our day-to-day
functionality and comfort. When it
was taken away, I became acutely
aware of this relationship.
I was quickly met with a set of
challenges that I did not anticipate
having. Without my phone I
realized I did not have an alarm
clock, affecting how I woke up for
class over the next few days. I do
not wear or even own a watch and
have always used my phone as my
personal tracker of time. For two
days I only had a rough estimate
of what time it was. Phones have
pulled so many basic technologies
together into one device, foregoing
some uses that I did not even realize
I frequently needed. This intensifies
our tech reliance: So much of what
we need and do is based on one
device. Losing it is like losing what
used to be 15 of your most useful
objects.
I found myself on several
occasions reaching for something
that was not there. I would be
studying and suddenly grab for
the empty table to my right. Think
about how many times you pick
up your phone, even if you are not
actively scrolling or using it. It has
been reported that millennials
check their phones 150 times a
day. Something so habitual truly
becomes essential to the way you go
through your life, even when it is not
necessarily beneficial to you.
Yet, in this disconnect I found
that without minute breaks in my
studying and working, I was more
productive. My concentration was
not interrupted by sending a quick
message to a friend, or reading the
headline that the New York Times
sent to my notification center.
This break in our concentration
flow is proven to cause issues
with productivity. However, I still
missed my five-minute social media
breaks. I was not Snapchatting or
seeing the top new tweets on my
feed. I felt like I was not expressing
myself as regularly as I normally
do, and I felt a distance from the
people I frequently chat with.
Communication has manifested
itself in so many different ways in the
age of social media, and a break from
it felt isolating. While this cultural
phenomenon of being “plugged in”
all the time can have a distracting
quality, it is the way that information,
ideas and expression are shared
in our society, so disconnecting
can make us feel as if we are
missing
something.
Managing
and balancing our screen time is
something that we could benefit
from in practical ways, especially
when tech usage manifests into
insignificant scrolling and wasting
time. But cutting it out completely
or resisting its importance in our
new communication system is an
intractable mindset.
The consistent access to and
use of our phones, in combination
with the fact that 77 percent of
Americans now own a smartphone
(95 percent owning some type of
cell phone), keeps us connected to
not only technology, but to each
other. Mobile communication has
given humanity, for the first time,
instantaneous access to the people
in our lives at any point. This is a
new cultural phenomenon that is
criticized but also indulged in by our
society. While we may feel that we
do not owe anyone a timely response
to whatever they may need, due
to the rapid nature of information
that we are so accustomed to, we
oftentimes expect it from others.
My first phoneless day left many
of my friends confused until they
saw me in the evening. They were
not given the typical daily updates
of where I was and what I was
doing. These interactions, while
typically short, give us a constant
access to one another that has never
before existed. It also has created a
certain level of anxiety about where
people are and what they are doing.
Without these habitual updates,
loved ones can be sent into a frenzy
of concern. When you do not check
in, it implies that something is off or
wrong. It’s crucial to maintaining
interpersonal connections.
Millennials
are
the
first
generation to grow up in an age
of mobile communication. This
is reflected greatly in our use of
technology and the importance that
it plays in our daily lives. Phones
have become an extension of us,
both a useful tool for many day-to-
day functions and a way to intensify
interpersonal communication. But
alongside the growth of constant
access to one another and the use
of devices, tech reliance has also
developed — a new dependence that
people of other generations may not
be able to understand. A reliance
that should be better managed in
order to inspire productivity.
After my parents brought me
my new phone, I asked them how
they used to make and keep plans,
how they handled communication
without cell phones. “Erin, we
just did it!” And as with all new
advancements, we just keep doing
it. Cell phones are just the new “it.”
O
n its surface, Netflix’s
“Bojack
Horseman”
simply looks like an
absurd cartoon about a celebrity
horse,
but
anyone
who
has
seen the show can attest that
its themes extend far past just
whimsical animal puns (though
they are admittedly some of
my favorite parts of the show).
Despite centering around the lives
of
mostly
anthropomorphized
animals, “Bojack Horseman” is
perhaps the most honest portrayal
of the human condition currently
on television, and its most recent
season fearlessly explores the
complex facets of addiction, the
marginalization of women and
the lack of accountability in our
society.
Season
five
of
“Bojack
Horseman” follows Bojack as
he balances a demanding acting
job on the set of his new action
drama “Philbert” with growing
depression and drug addiction.
This season focuses largely on the
theme of accountability, or more
specifically, a lack thereof. We
get a taste of this early on with
Vance Waggoner, a remorseless
former “Hollywood” star who
has a history of horrible behavior
involving
sexual
harassment,
assault and anti-Semitism. After
a few years out of the spotlight,
Vance lands a gig as Bojack’s
co-star on “Philbert,” a role that
is meant to revive the “reformed”
actor’s career.
Though as viewers we can
laugh at Vance’s excessively dark
and endless transgressions, we
must also recognize that Vance
is just an exaggerated version of
the celebrities and public figures
whom we constantly forgive in
our society. This cycle is one we
all know far too well — a celebrity
scandal
breaks
the
celebrity
apologizes and spends some time
out of the public eye and shortly
after, the public welcomes the
“new-and-improved”
celebrity
back with open arms.
Waggoner’s
character
holds
obvious relevance to the #MeToo
movement that has taken our
society by storm. With so many
once-beloved
public
figures
shockingly exposed as sexual
assaulters and harassers, a number
of them have inevitably slipped
through the cracks back into the
public’s warm embrace. Perhaps
most notably, Louis C.K., who just
last year was at the center of the
#MeToo movement, and has now
already kickstarted a return to the
stand-up stage. It is instances like
these that reveal just how fickle the
public is. Louis C.K. is funny and
affable, so naturally, mere months
after we discovered his history
of sexual misconduct, we have
already begun to forget.
Though
Vance
Waggoner’s
character
is
a
blunt
social
commentary on society’s inability
to hold the rich and famous
accountable, it is merely a precursor
to the season’s much darker
climactic
ending.
Throughout
the season, we witness Bojack
gradually spiraling out of control
as his dependency on painkillers
takes over his life. Eventually, his
sense of self becomes so warped
that he mistakes a scripted action
scene for real life and violently
chokes his co-star Gina while
filming. Not wanting her best
shot at a successful acting career
to die in the shadow of such a
massive scandal, Gina publically
“clears things up” in an interview,
covering her bruises with makeup
and assuring the public that it was
just good acting.
This
interview
scene
is
incredibly honest and powerful.
Not only does Gina illustrate
an
often
overlooked
barrier
to
survivors
of
assault
who
contemplate coming forward, but
the situation also represents a very
real instance in which a powerful and
destructive force once again escapes
the consequences of his actions.
There
is
a
scene
in
the
10th episode in which Bojack
rationalizes that everybody does
regrettable things, that, “We’re all
terrible, so, therefore, we’re all OK.”
This quote embodies every reason
our society habitually fails to hold
people accountable. We adopt
this mindset because it is easy. It
is easy to believe that, “We’re all
terrible, so, therefore, we’re all OK”
because a lack of agency means
that we never had any control over
our actions in the first place. It
means that we are not responsible
for ourselves, so, therefore, our
transgressions are not our fault.
These rationalizations are simply
coping mechanisms. But in this
case, we cannot just cope — we
must respond.
With the #MeToo movement in
full force, I can only hope that we
as a society have begun to realize
that we must hold others as well as
ourselves truly accountable. The
trauma suffered by survivors of
sexual assault is too painful for us
to remain complacent. We cannot
simply rationalize wrongdoings
with the same old justifications
like “Boys will be boys” or “It’s just
locker room talk” because these
excuses normalize attitudes and
beliefs which should unequivocally
be condemned. An apology is not
enough to warrant forgiveness
because redemption is not a binary
state, but instead a gradual and
continuous effort. Yes, we all do
terrible things sometimes, but
this fact is not some equalizer that
justifies all wrongdoings.
Season
five
of
“Bojack
Horseman” closes on a hopeful
note as Bojack checks himself
into a rehabilitation facility for his
addiction. He realizes the changes
he himself must enact in order to
be better — it’s time society does
the same.
Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Wednesday, November 14, 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
ERIN WHITE | COLUMN
Our digital dependency
What society can learn from ‘Bojack Horseman’
AMANDA ZHANG | COLUMN
Erin White can be reached at
ekwhite@umich.edu
Amanda Zhang can be reached at
amanzhan@umich.edu.
S
ignatories
to
the
recent
statement
criticizing
the
University
of
Michigan’s
decision to discipline Prof. John
Cheney-Lippold for refusing to
support a student who wanted to
study in Israel framed the issue
solely in terms of freedom of
speech. In fact, two principles were
in contention: a professor’s right to
express his views and a student’s
right to study at an institution of
her choosing. Since the University
believes its primary commitment
must be to students, and since
Cheney-Lippold’s
freedom
in
other contexts is unaffected, the
University chose to support the
undergraduate. The signatories,
however,
ignored
the
student
entirely. Their statement mentioned
the professor’s free speech rights
four times — the young woman’s
thwarted academic aspirations, not
once.
I suspect, moreover, that the
signatories’ commitment to freedom
of speech is not absolute, but
conditional and qualified. Suppose a
professor refused to write for a woman
who wanted to study physics because
women can’t do science. Or suppose he
refused to write for a student seeking
to attend a Muslim university because,
in his view, Muslims are terrorists. Or if
no letter were provided for an African
university because, in the professor’s
opinion, African universities are
academically inferior. All such actions
are examples of free speech. But, if the
University penalized the offending
professor, I seriously doubt we’d see
an outraged protest. Most signatories
probably would stay silent or demand
the administration chastise their
ignorant colleague.
Insofar as this is true, the central
issue is not freedom of speech at all,
but political and historical analysis.
Not all, but certainly many signatories
support Prof. Cheney-Lippold because
they share his sympathy for the
Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions
movement.
If the political claims of the BDS
movement are central to the entire
debate, what then can be said about
their credibility? In all my classes, and
especially my course on the Arab-
Israeli conflict, I go to great lengths
to introduce divergent views and
historiographic debates. But, it is
precisely because I oppose simplistic,
politically inspired interpretations
that I now critique the BDS narrative.
I hasten to add that I would do
exactly the same if faculty petitions
circulated in support of an ahistorical,
exclusively pro-Israel perspective.
The BDS movement makes two
chief claims. First, it says that Israel
must be boycotted because it violates
international norms of human rights.
Indeed, in demanding sanctions
against only one country, BDS
suggests that Israel has the world’s
worst human rights record.
To be sure, within Israel, which
defines
itself
as
an
expressly
Jewish state, Arabs are second-
class citizens, with lower per capita
funding and a pervasive sense of
marginalization.
Unfortunately,
however, in privileging one ethnic
or religious group, Israel resembles
a great number, probably a majority,
of U.N. member states. And if we
consider not merely ethnic relations,
but the totality of civic rights, Israel
does far better than most. Arguably,
the most respected global survey of
minority rights and democracy is the
Democracy Index compiled by the
U.K.-based Economist Intelligence
Unit. In this survey, which ranks
countries from No. 1, most democratic
(Norway), to No. 167, least democratic
(North Korea), Israel ranks No. 30.
Israel is in the same cohort as the U.S.
(No. 21), France (No. 29), Belgium
(No. 32), etc.
No other Middle East country
ranks lower (i.e., better) than No.
69, and the great majority come in
at No. 100 or worse. The Palestinian
territories, No. 108, have been
condemned by Human Rights Watch
for systematically torturing political
prisoners. Neither the West Bank
under the Palestinian Authority
nor Gaza under Hamas offers any
semblance of free elections, freedom
of the press or tolerated dissent.
By contrast, Arab citizens of
Israel have exactly the same civic
and political rights as Jews. An
Arab party is the third largest in
parliament. Arabs serve on the
Israeli Supreme Court, in the cabinet
and in the army high command.
They have equal access to all public
institutions. Christian Arabs have
higher rates of university enrollment
and lower poverty rates than Jews.
None of this remotely resembles
apartheid South Africa, to which BDS
leaders routinely compare Israel. So
why does BDS single out Israel for
censure, rather than Middle Eastern
autocracies? I say nothing about
the truly appalling human rights
records of China, Russia, Sri Lanka,
Venezuela, the Philippines, etc.
The second BDS claim is that
outside Israel proper, in the West
Bank
and
Gaza,
settlements
and security controls constitute
outrageous abuses of an innocent
population. I readily agree that
Israel’s
ongoing
expansion
of
West Bank settlements is morally
offensive and politically myopic.
Palestinians
themselves,
however,
bear
significant
responsibility for these conditions.
Their leaders have had many
opportunities to end the conflict.
But for almost a century, a
combination of chronic political
fragmentation
and
deep-seated
popular anger over the Zionist
intrusion into Arab lands has
made it impossible for any leader
to accept a permanent Jewish state
without risking his political, indeed
physical, demise.
All told, from 1937 to 2014,
eight international proposals to
end the conflict were made. All
would have given Palestinians
control over substantial parts,
in one case 100 percent, of the
territories
comprising
modern
Israel and Palestine, but all would
have required compromise. Jews,
not because they were more moral
but because demographic realities
curbed their appetite, accepted at
least six, possibly seven, of these
proposals. Most of what Palestinians
now claim they want — including a
West Bank state with its capital in
East Jerusalem — was offered in
these proposals. But opponents of
any substantial Jewish presence
rejected all eight proposals and
accompanied those rejections with
military and terrorist attacks. Jews
responded with military measures
designed to prevent fresh attacks.
Those responses and the ensuing,
progressive deterioration in the
Palestinians’ territorial and political
position only deepened Palestinian
bitterness, which inspired fresh
rounds of violence, which led to
further Israeli restrictions in a
downward spiral to which no end
is in sight.
As a result, virtually everything of
which Palestinians now complain —
refugees in 1947-49, the West Bank
occupation from 1967, settlements
after 1977, the 2002 security wall, the
post-2007 Gaza blockade — came
in direct response to Arab-initiated
violence whose instigators, with
extensive popular support, were
expressly committed to destroying the
Jewish state.
Gaza illustrates this dynamic
all too well. Despite the blockade,
Gaza Hamas has managed to inflict
considerable financial and political
damage. But, the West Bank is 15 times
larger than Gaza, far closer to Israel’s
heartland and far more open to Iranian
troops and weapons. Israelis fear that
if they withdrew from the West Bank,
Hamas — which is allied to Iran, sworn
to Israel’s extermination and arguably
the most popular Palestinian party —
would take control of the West Bank
just as they seized Gaza after Israel
left. A Hamas-dominated West Bank,
with Iranian troops and weapons
next door to Tel Aviv and Jerusalem,
would threaten Israel’s very existence.
No Israeli government — right or
left — could ever countenance such
a possibility. More than religious or
ideological imperatives, this deep-
rooted existential fear now drives
Israeli settlement expansion and
suspicion of a two-state solution.
To be sure, Zionism presented the
Arabs of Palestine with an extremely
painful dilemma: In effect, they were
asked to pay the price for European
anti-Semitism for which they bore
no responsibility. Nonetheless, faced
with hard choices, Palestinians during
the last hundred years responded in
ways that often proved profoundly
self-destructive. To accept the BDS
image of Palestinians as victims
of entirely gratuitous repression
is to caricature history. And to
single out Israel from among 193
U.N. members as the country
whose human rights record is most
deserving of boycott is to defy
impartial logic.
VICTOR LIEBERMAN | OP-ED
Freedom of speech and partisan enthusiasm
Victor Lieberman is the Raoul
Wallenberg Distinguished University
Professor of History and Professor of
Asian and Comparative History in the
College of Literature Science and the
Arts
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The central issue is not
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