Time Warp

I should have suspected that something was strange, on our first night in Buenos Aires.  It was after midnight, when we met the owner of our rental apartment. He came accompanied by a pretty red-head, and looked surprisingly fresh and energetic.
"I just stepped out of a family dinner", he said, brushing aside my apologies for the late hour.  From there, he escorted us to the crowded corner cafe, where Adi and I sat by a sidewalk table and decompressed from the long flight. When we left, patrons of all ages were still coming in.

The suspicion became stronger the next evening.  At seven PM, the Tango dance hall was closed. The caretaker (slight limp, but no candles or long white hair) seemed a bit surprised to see us at the gate.  He explained that despite what it says in the web-page, classes start at nine, and the general dance starts at eleven, or later.  True enough, at nine, people began to enter the darkened ballroom.

Only  the following morning, did we really grasp the extent of the phenomenon.  We  were downtown, ready to start our sightseeing, but the museums, as well as the shops and offices, were all shuttered.  We concluded that the city is affected by a weird time-warp.  Portenos eat dinner at  nine, start dancing at midnight, and offices don't open till  ten AM.  How they manage to start work, even at this hour, I will need to investigate.

Where is the Beef?

"If you don't like steak, don't go to Argentina!"
That was Doron's advice.   When he later modified his warning to "...steak or ice-cream...", and since I like the occasional steak, I felt free to go.

Walking in Buenos Aires at lunch (noon-3), or dinner (9-midnight), it is impossible to ignore the tempting fragrance of roasting meat.  Every city-block hosts at least one Parilla (grill restaurant), and the aroma floods the sidewalks.  Eventually, you succumb to the temptation, and walk in.  The food always lived up to the promise.  Even though at times, the menu resembled a class in cow anatomy, there was no worry;  whichever cut I ordered,  I was served with a large, thick, and juicy slab, that was as good looking as it was tasty.  The meat is usually accompanied by fried potatoes and a glass of wine, and the price is very kind.

However, after enjoying Argentina's beef for a couple of weeks, I have learned two things.

1. There is only so much meat I can take.   I need at least two days of a total salad diet before I can even think about my next carnivorous meal.
2. Debbie's family BBQ recipe, prepared by either father, brother, or son, (Poor Debbie is vegetarian.) can easily stand up to any of the cuts I tasted in Argentina.

I must admit that so far, I have only eaten in neighborhood Parillas.  I am working my way up to the more famous beef joints.  If my evaluation changes, I will post an update here.

Buenos Aires Blues

Blue does not refer to my mood.  It is the soulful sound of an Uruguayan drummer, two Argentinians on acoustic base and electric guitar, and an Italian (Paolo Russo) playing the BANDEON.  These musicians, first met on the day of the performance, under the auspices of the Buenos-Aires Jazz Festival.  In an intimate brick-lined bar, they created what I would describe as Tango Blues.

The audience loved them, and so did I.  I felt really lucky for several reasons.
1.  The combination of Cool Jazz and the emotional voice of the bandeon, was great.
2.  The music was a perfect fit for our first concert in Argentina.
3.  The tasty Chardonnay was only 10 bucks per bottle (and that was the more expensive choice).
4.  The venue was less than one block away from our apartment.

As Jaime, our Oaxaca friend likes to say on such occasions, "The satisfaction of having been born"

Where Have All The Gauchos Gone?

The bus departed with a roar, and left us standing on the deserted street.  We walked to town, our footsteps ricocheting off the peeling walls, while the midday sun blazed down from a deep blue sky.  This scene may have worked well for "High Noon", but not for us.  We were in San Antonio de Areco for the "Day of Tradition", a popular gaucho festival, and expected to see a crowd of celebrating cowboys, and camera-clicking tourists, not Gary Cooper.

At our hotel, we learned that three days prior to our arrival, rains flooded the town, and the festival was cancelled.  We reminded ourselves that nomads do not dwell on the could-have-been, and ventured to the plaza.  The water has receded, and the old pulperia (general store/pub) resumed operations.  In the back patio, slabs of meat, the size of a human torso, were staked, as if in a pagan ceremony, around a smoking fire.  We settled at a shady table overlooking the river, and ordered the sirloin which, coupled with a liter of stout, quickly soothed our disappointment.

In the evening, the town provided the handful of visitors, with a sample of the cancelled event.  We watched as Martin, an incredible horse whisperer, performed an intricate and sensual, routine with his horse (Yes, he did kiss it on the mouth).  We were also taught the Chacarera, an Argentina's rural folk dance.  After the weekend, we start our Tango lessons.  

Progress in Latin America?

The following question was assigned in the Coursera  'Latin American Culture" class.

 Can we be optimistic about the future development of Latin American political systems? Why?

If you are interested in the subject (not many are), read my response below.

Introduction
The political systems in Latin America (LA) are weak, inefficient and corrupt.  However compared to the situation twenty years ago, LA has seen a dramatic improvement.  Will it keep improving?  Of course.  I think that a more salient question is 
How long before the political systems achieve a quality that is acceptable to the majority of the population?
I estimate that it will take LA at least two generations to reach that level.  I will justify my answer in the discussion below.

The improvement of society requires three pillars, a good economy, a good educational system, and a good political system.  No improvement will occur if one of these pillars is missing or weak.  Similarly, any one pillar will not improve without the assistance of the other two.  The pillars must grow together.  Therefore to predict the improvement of the political system, we need to examine all three.  To do this, I used some quantitative measures to compare LA to some developed western nations (DWN) (1),  

Economy
I examined three aspects of the economy, GDP, Growth, and Equality.  Of the three, equality is the most interdependent with the other two pillars.  A more equal distribution of earning enables better education, and a bad political system causes an highly unequal distribution.

1. GDP (per Capita) in LA in is less than half of the DWN, but should be enough to provide the basic needs of the population.  (2)
2. The growth of GDP in LA is 2.3% per year.  This is remarkable growth, especially when compared to the almost zero growth of the DWN(2).
3. Income equality in LA is lagging, and improving only slowly.

• The ratio of earnings between the richest 10% of the population, and the poorest 10%, is 25:1, while in DWN it is 12:1.
• The Gini Index (3), is another measure of equality.  (A lower score indicates a more equal distribution of income.)  LA scored 49% compared to DWN at 34%.  Aggressive use of taxation plays a major role in making western nations more equitable.
• If we compare the score today, to the Gini index of ten years ago, we can project that it would take LA fifty years to reach the DWN equality level.

Education
Good education requires resources, which should be allocated by the political system, and educated citizens are needed to grow the economy and improve the political system.  I examined two aspects of the education system, the number of years in school, and the quality of learning.

1. In LA, children study, on average, eight years.  In the DWN, the number is twelve years.  The missing high school years are crucial in the development of critical thinking, historic knowledge, and political awareness.  These are essential skills for improving the political systems.
2. The quality of LA education is sorely lagging.   A worldwide survey (4) assessed the math proficiency of fifteen-year-old students.   65% of LA students failed the test.  In the DWN, only 22% failed.  Sadly, there has been no improvement in the current test, over the one administered nine years ago.  I think it is safe to assume, that the math results extend to most other subjects.

Political Systems
It is not surprising that there are no simple quantitative measures for a political system.  However, in 2012, the World Justice Project conducted a comprehensive survey (4) of the quality of governance in 99 countries, they results were published as a "Rule of Law Index".  Out of a maximum score of 100%, LA scored 48%.  The DWN  scored 73%.  Unfortunately, there are no previous surveys, and we cannot calculate the rate of progress in this measure.  Let me just say that the low score was measured depite the "...dramatic improvement" that I mentioned earlier.

Conclusion
There is no doubt in my mind that overtime, the political systems in LA will improve.  However, the development of such systems is a slower, more complicated process than the development of good economic or educational systems.  Therefore, I predict a period of at least forty to fifty years before LA enjoys good political systems.  Systems that are dedicated and capable of improving the life of its citizens. 

Notes 

1. For my statistics I used a sample of the nine largest countries in Latin America, which comprise about 90% of the population.  For the  Developed Western Nations data, I sampled the USA, Canada, and the five largest European countries.  The rates of change are annual rates, averaged over ten years.  For detailed results, click on the link below. 
   Latin America Measures
   
2. I used the Purchasing-Power-Parity GDP as provided by the OECD and the World Bank.
3. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_countries_by_income_equality
4. http://www.oecd.org/pisa/keyfindings/pisa-2012-results.htm
5. http://worldjusticeproject.org/rule-of-law-index 

Response to "I have hope"

My son Doron, responded to my previous post with a thoughtful rebuttal.  He is more realistic about the prospect of peace.  He believes that for the foreseeable future, a strong Israel is the only available solution.  Below is his letter in full.

By Doron Ohel

I agree that empathy is needed from BOTH sides to reach critical decisions, but according to Dennis Ross, that is not enough.  Action then needs to be taken by leadership to make painful compromises and concessions to reach a mutual livable compromise (not peace, let's not be naive, but a working compromise to better the lives of both peoples).  see article:

http://www.csmonitor.com/Commentary/the-monitors-view/2014/0805/What-Israelis-Palestinians-expect-from-the-world-but-not-each-other

Unfortunately, the Palestinian leadership has not budged one millimeter in its negotiation positions in the last 22 years of the Oslo Accords, and if the Gaza conflict says anything, has actually been going backwards.  As far as empathy by the the Palestinian educated elite, the firing and blackballing of an Al-Quds professor who organized a trip to Auschwitz a few months ago is not a good sign of that culture's political maturity in dealing with this conflict.

http://www.timesofisrael.com/palestinian-lecturer-who-led-auschwitz-trip-quits-after-backlash/

From the Israeli side, education and legislation may be needed to stop the creeping effect of anti-Arab racism by the younger generation.  the revulsion and near-universal condemnation of the lynching of the East Jerusalem teenager's revenge killing points that this is a phenomenon alien to Israeli culture.

Whether the Israeli leadership will take any further risky unilateral steps to forestall a future, long term, hypothetical "black swan" event is extremely unlikely.  With ISIS, an even more bloodthirsty and nihilistic organization than Hamas, knocking on the Eastern front, that makes it even less likely.  It is not in human, nor political nature to do so, especially not in Israel's position with minimal to zero room for cushioning against mistakes, to make such extremely long-term calculations.

As far as hope is concerned?  This is a latest battle that has lasted now for a century. and will probably last for another one.  The side that has the stamina, resilience, and fortitude to go on will ultimately prevail.  Judging Israel's accomplishments from 1914 to 2014 and the Arab side, I would continue to bet on the Israeli side of the ledger for the long-term.

I have hope

I was saddened and frustrated by the current war in Gaza.  Saddened by the suffering on both sides, and  frustrated by my inability to see a way out.   Somehow, the frustration led me to formulate a three-step program, which vaguely describes a path to peace.   I am not a strategist, and do not have the qualifications to propose such a path.  I do not live in Israel, and do not have the moral authority to recommend any path.  I do not claim that the program is original or practical.  Nonetheless, it is presented below.

The first step of the program is the hardest to implement, while the third step is the easiest.  This is a good indication of my lack of expertise in public policy.  However, putting the program on paper, gave me hope that eventually, peace can be achieved.

Step one:  Practice Empathy
Israelis have to realize that they are not confronting "Muslim Fundamentalism",  "Terrorism", nor any other label.   We are fighting other human beings that have the same feelings and aspirations as us.  If we exercise empathy and put ourselves in a Palestinian's shoes, we will discover that our behavior would be the same.  We will realize that the Palestinians consider themselves a nation that lost its dignity and land to an external power.  We will understand that the only way for a young Palestinian man to imagine any kind of acceptable future, is to fight for the elimination of Israel.   This understanding is necessary before any real dialog can take place, a dialog based on real needs, rather than slogans, fear, or prejudice.

It is hard to develop empathy towards your adversary in the middle of a struggle, but it can be done.  I believe that there are enough people in Israel who could accomplish such a feat, and lead the way to the second step.

Step two:  Take Risk
Israel current strategy consists of maintaining deterrence, while waiting for some unknown event that will bring about a radical change in circumstances.  This approach is not a viable long term strategy for two reasons.

1. The huge advantage that Israel has over the Palestinians in resources, quality, and technology is slowly eroding.  This is becoming evident with each encounter.  The Israeli advantage will not disappear in the foreseeable future, but the increasing Palestinian capabilities will exact an increasingly higher price from Israeli society.
2. The unpredictable Black Swan event that Israel is expecting, may not be in its advantage, and could just as likely cause its demise.

Instead of the status-quo, Israel should strive hard to achieve an agreement with the Palestinians.  For the agreement to be acceptable to the other side, it will have to be both risky and generous.  However, I contend that such risk can be contained, and is preferable to the big, long range gamble.  Furthermore, it is appropriate for the stronger, richer side to be more risk-tolerant and generous.

Step three:  Spend Money
Lots of it.  Human nature is such, that no agreement will be stable, unless the Palestinians feel that they have a chance of achieving economic equality with Israeli society.  Israel can provide such a vision, by first demonstrating it in the approach to its Arab citizens.  It can then expand the economic development model to the West Bank, an finally to Gaza.

Comic Relief

"Rega, rega, bachur" (Wait a minute, young man)
I heard this warning, in heavily accented Hebrew, as I was walking hurriedly towards the Israeli consulate in Mexico City.  Hailing me, was a stocky police officer, who looked even stockier due to the heavy body armor he was wearing.
"Le'an?" (where to?) he asked
As he examined my passport, I noticed that he was part of an armed police detail that guarded the tree-lined block.  He asked me, this time in Spanish, to leave my day-pack with him.
"Bitachon meshuga." (Crazy security.)  he  apologized with a smile.
Despite the stress, I could not help but like this jovial, Hebrew-speaking cop.  Eventually, I was let into the embassy complex.

That day, I had to return to the consulate twice more, and on each entry and exit, the cop, who was by now my friend, regaled me with his perfect colloquial Hebrew.  Despite my growing irritation with the bureaucrats inside, he never failed to elicit from me a hearty lough.
For a breakfast spot, he suggested a place that offers "Shakshuka"  (Eggs scrambled with vegetables).
"Bete'avon, achi!'  (Bon apetit, bro!)

As he handed back my day-pack for the last time, we exchanged hearty shoulder pats, and he added,
"Ani Golani' (I am from the Golani Brigade).
The smile did not leave my face, all the way to the subway station.

Fear and Tears in Oaxaca

Not being a Palestinian, I am not accustomed to being under tear-gas attack.  This July in Oaxaca,  I had that painful experience.  However, first, let me provide some background.


July is a festive month in Oaxaca.   In the historic downtown, locals are outnumbered by tourists, who come to enjoy the Guelaguetza, a colorful festival of regional dance.  This year, the striking teachers' union decided that July is also a good month to increase their political pressure.  They set up hundreds of tents in the Zocalo (The central plaza) and "occupied" it.  Itinerant vendors followed suit, and built their stalls around the tent city.  Overnight, the Zocalo, which is arguably the prettiest in Mexico, turned into a Brazilian favela. The locals shook their heads.  They vividly remember the Summer of 2006, when a similar occupation by the teachers, escalated into an armed rebellion.  After several months, the army intervened, and cleared the plaza.  The riots resulted in seventeen dead, and a large economic loss to the city.

On the last day of the festival, Adi and I went on our usual evening stroll.  We were winding our way through the stall-cluttered Zocalo, when we noticed a trickle of young people running as fast as they could, clearly escaping an imminent danger.  The itinerant vendors, who are much more attuned to such situations than us, were already hastily throwing their wares onto blankets, and leaving the area.
"The police is coming", rose the warning.
"I hope they are coming for the teachers," I said, "but why today?"
We looked on, as the trickle turned into a stream of fleeing men.  We heard several loud bangs, and saw smoke billowing out of an object that landed beside us.  Immediately, the pungent smoke of tear-gas filled the covered walkway, searing our eyes and lungs.   General panic ensued.  Our favorite cafe was only a few steps away, and we headed to the safety of its interior.  I saw Adi enter, when a large  brute, who was running down the sidewalk, violently pushed me out of his way.  I tucked, performed a perfect shoulder roll (Ofer would have been proud of me),  and landed in the guayabera shop next door.  The owner helped me to my feet, and I hurried through the smoke plume, towards the closing doors of the cafe, where Adi was pleading with the workers to let me in.

Cafe Del Jardin, with its doors tightly closed, became a refugee center.  People stood with tearing eyes, wet towels over their noses, looking totally dazed.  Two young indigenous women, each with a baby slung on her back, were weeping uncontrollably.  A kind soul led the two to the kitchen, where the air was better, and the atmosphere calmer.  Adi encountered her favorite waitress, and they consoled each other with a long, strong hug   I headed for the bar.  I needed a cold beer to sooth my burning throat, but the bartender was rushing to shutter the liquor shelves, and would not comply.   I guess he was anticipating a riot, which did not happen.  Through the windows we could see the running subside, and as the smoke dissipated, despite protests from the other refugees, I unlocked the door, and we left for home.

A beer in hand, I learned that on their way back from a teachers demonstration, some self-proclaimed anarchists confronted the police.  Tempers rose, and the police gave chase.  The rest, we witnessed.

The teachers are scheduled to stay in the Zocalo till mid August.  I hope cooler heads will prevail.

Bulletins from the road

In a previous post, I described Quick Zalads, a unique eatery in Navajoa, Sonora.  On our last northward migration, we visited it again.  This time, I did not forget the camera.  If you didn't believe "kitchen sink", here is the proof.

This is not a pedicure.  It took almost an hour for the nurse to dig out a dozen sea-urchin spines.  The incident happened at the turn-around point of a 5.2 kilometer swim in Acapulco Bay. It's a long story, involving a pee stop and a submerged rock.  Only after completing the second half of the swim, did I realize the extent of the damage.  Patti (Pretty, isn't she?)  did a good job:  No inflammation. Three weeks later, my feet are almost back to normal.

Can Irrationality Improve your Marriage

"A beginner's Guide to Irrational Behavior" is taught on Coursera by Dan Arieli.  Prof. Arieli asked us to submit a paper on how we would use the research findings, to solve a real-world problem.  After failing to think of a good way to eliminate world hunger, I almost gave up on the assignment.  Then, I had the brainstorm you are invited to witness.  To my surprise, the fictional dish, really exists.
  

Can Irrationality Improve Your Marriage?

This paper describes the attempt to alter marital behavior using several  effects discovered in Behavioral Economics research. 

INTRODUCTION

My wife is a good cook.  My favorite of her dishes is Chicken A-La-Mode (CALM), a boiled chicken breast, topped with strawberry ice-cream.  If I could, I would eat CALM every day.  The problem is that she prepares it less than once per month.  If I don’t have it, I slowly lose my usually cheerful disposition.  We often talk about my desire for more CALM.  In those discussions, she says she loves me, and would be happy to prepare my favorite dish every day.  According to her, there are several reasons for not cooking the dish more often.  The price of chicken breast (she buys it at the market, a day prior to preparation) recently spiked up; she sometimes forgets to buy the meat; and at other time, she is not in the mood for fancy cooking.  For a few days after one of these discussions, I get my chicken a la mode, but after a while, the frequency deteriorates to the usual low level.  

Rationally, increasing the occurrence of CALM in our life would greatly benefit my wife.  Chicken is cheap, she would enjoy the tasty dish, and she will avoid the company of a grumpy man.  I recalled the research presented in the Beginners Guide to Irrational Behavior class, and thought that it may be worthwhile to experiment with some of the concepts I learned.  Fortunately, my wife did not take the same class.

To reduce my wife's pain of purchase, I used the research that shows that paying is made less painful if the payment is less transparent, and choices are provided by default.  Furthermore, a high "anchor" may make something seem cheap, and "Free" is a powerful concept.  To set her expectations for the frequency of CALM, I utilized the anchor concept again, as well as setting the layout of choices to allow my desired outcome to seem reasonable.  To increase my wife's motivation, I used the endowment research, by providing her with an incentive that she may loose by non-performance.  I used the research on the fading effect of the honor code, through a reminder, just before she begins her day.

Below is a description of my experiment.  The references to the research I used are embedded in the description in parenthesis.

METHOD

A.  Reduce the pain of spending.

I visited our favorite butcher and struck the following deal with him.

1. Each time my wife comes in, he will wrap two slices of chicken breast and hand it to her(1), saying “Here is your order.  Anything else?”  I gave him a $100 as prepayment for chicken breast purchases.  For any other meat, my wife will have to pay cash.  I will refill this fund whenever it runs out.
2. Each time my wife comes in he should tell her about the price of T-bone steak (which is expensive and she doesn't like too much) (2).  (I gave him $20, and told him that he can pay himself $1.00 for each time he does so.  At the end of each month I will refill this fund too.)

I told my wife, that I prepaid for the chicken breasts and that from now on, they are “Free”. (3)

B.  Pre-bias the expectations.

I prepared a form which contained two multiple choice questions.  I would hand it to my wife at the appropriate time.  The questions are listed below.

    “Would you be willing to prepare CALM 30 times per month?” (2)

               YES    NO

    “How many times a month should we eat CALM?”  (4)  

            Less than 5    5-10    10-20    20-30    30-40    More than 40

C.  Increase the joy of cooking.

After my wife filled the questionnaire, I was not surprised to see that she chose “10-20” as the correct frequency.

Now, I needed to be careful.  I had to avoid moving our relationship into a market norm (5).  I continued with the following suggestion.

“Honey, how about, if I give you one Toblerone for every time you prepare CALM?  In fact, here are twenty bars for this month.  I will put these in a jar, and you can take one after every CALM meal.  At the end of the month I will replenish the jar to twenty bars.” (6)  I should add that my wife is very slim, and this is her favorite snack.  

Laughingly, she accepted this arrangement.

D.  Reinforce the honor code.

Every day before going to work, I kiss my wife goodbye, and casually mention something along these lines,

“Honey, I really loved the last CALM.  Did you take your Toblerone?” (7)

RESULTS

Dan Arieli changed my life.  I am now eating CALM at least twice a week.

NIght and Day

Hoof steps disturb the silence. The rider, an early riser heading for the market, tips his hat, and we respond with "Buenos Dias".  The horse leaves the only blemish on the shiny cobble stones.  We are soon out of town.  In the orchards besides our path, men and women are harvesting red coffee berries.  We taste some.  The mountain air is cool and fresh, and we enjoy the exertion.  We are headed for a waterfall that played a prominent role in the movie Romancing the Stone.  We cross a rickety suspended bridge that hangs hundreds of feet above the canyon.  The movie bridge is still there, too dangerous for use.  We descend a steep narrow trail carved into the face of the cliff and reach a view of the waterfall.  The fall are impressive, even without Michael and Kathleen.  Back in town, we stroll along the main street and admire the colorful ceramic tiles that decorate the colonial-style buildings.

The music that drifts into our room signals the start (an hour late) of the evening parade. We squeeze our way to the front, and watch the illuminated floats and the marching samba clubs.  From here, it's a short walk to Plazuela Campana, our favorite spot.  We learned to avoid the huge crowds at the seafront concert, and the equally-crowded Zocalo. A narrow alley leads into the plaza which is enclosed on all sides by three-story buildings.  At night, you can't see their dilapidated exterior.  Plastic tables are arranged on the periphery of the plaza. In the front, the band is preparing to play.  We join another couple at one of the tables.  By the end of the evening, they become our friends.  We order a beer, and as the music starts, we step to the center.  For the rest of the night the bands change, and we keep on dancing to the Cuban rhythms.

Sounds ideal?  In reality, these are two separate places.  In pretty Xico (HEE-CO), there is absolutely nothing to do after dark.  Veracruz during the day, is humid and grimy, busily cleaning the debris of last night's debauchery.  We came to Veracruz to dance in the Carnaval, and we continued to Xico, to decompress.  The port city and the "Magical town" are very different, yet both served our purpose well.

To be fair, Xico has its day of excitement during the town fiesta, when dozens of bulls, are released into the streets, and chase the crowd a-la Pamplona.  Veracruz has its daytime attractions.  If you order Cafe Lechero in the Gran Cafe de la Parroquia, a waiter pours boiling milk into your coffee, from a height well above your head, without spilling a drop.

What Is Moral?

On the second week of "Practical Ethics", a class taught by Peter Singer on Coursera, we were asked for our personal view on Morality.  Below is my submission, which I labeled "Squeamish Consequentialist".  I would appreciate your comments. 

I do not believe in a supreme being, nor in any other superhuman moral truth.  However that does not mean that morality is a matter of personal opinion.  I think that morality is ingrained in all human animals, and that most of us share basic moral instincts.  These moral instincts are useful for the welfare of human society, and contribute to the survival and procreation of individuals within the society.  It is therefore possible to asses the moral correctness of an intuition, according to the consequences that follow from acting on it.  If the act contributes to the welfare of society, it is good, and therefore morally right.  Since these intuitions evolved over millions of years, not all intuitions will serve society's interests, and we should try to use reason to validate their moral utility.

Although the paragraph above would seem to make me a consequentialist (1),  I am not always willing to accept the practical implications of this philosophical approach.  Too often, these implications will conflict with my moral intuitions.  These contradictions are mostly associated with two issues.

1. The value I place on the welfare of others diminishes, as their biological distance from me increases.
2. I will hesitate (not necessarily refrain), from causing harm to others through direct action, even if it is for the greater good.

I highly doubt that any philosophical theory can eliminate all moral contradictions.

In the absence of God and a comprehensive moral theory, I feel justified, capable, and most of the time comfortable, in making my own moral decisions.

Notes:
1.  Consequentialism: An action is morally right if the consequences of that action are more favorable than unfavorable.

Jerusalem audio guides [Product Review]

On January 2014, during a visit to the old city of Jerusalem, I used an excellent set of audio guides, provided by the Israel Ministry of Tourism.  Each guide focuses on a specific walking tour such as, "The Jewish Quarter", "Via Dolorosa", "Mount Zion to Jaffa Gate", etc.  The tours last a couple of hours and are informative and fun.

The guides can be downloaded unto any mobile device, and contain the audio, the text, and a detailed map of the walking route.  In addition, I discovered that using a GPS-enabled device (such as my Nexus tablet), your current location is displayed on the route map.  What a delightful feature.  No more getting lost on a tour.  When will Lonely Planet have it?

I downloaded the guides via WiFi at the tourism office located by the Jaffa Gate, but I failed to note the URL.  If you know it, please post a comment.

Once we were soldiers

Old soldiers never die.  They just tell stories. (Inaccurate quote of a US-army ballad)

Following a reunion of our old paratroop unit (see my post Suez Memories),  I received a link to raw TV footage taken during the the 1973 war.  Watching the grainy, silent clips, I immediately recognized Micha, standing in the center of the Armoured Personnel Carrier (APC).  Micha, was one-year my senior growing up in Tivon, a fellow officer in 1973, and the battalion commander in the subsequent war. Here also was Yo'ash, the smiling, balding fellow, who died from a direct hit to our APC as we entered the city of Suez. (A helmet would not have helped.)  Yossi, our battalion commander,  is shown outside the vehicle.  He was a man I loved and admired.  He died in a landmine explosion.  I saw several other friends, but only on the second viewing did I recognize myself.

The images moved me because here were the same warriors that a couple of weeks later, in a different APC, drove together into Suez City. Some, did not return, some were seriously wounded, and all carry scars.  For them, I edited the scattered clips into a two minute video.
Watch it here:   The Road to Budapest

Budapest is the code name for the only Israeli outpost that was not captured during the Egyptian assault of Yom Kippur.  However, it was cut off from the rest of our forces by Egyptian commandos who blocked the sole access road.  After one attempt to open the road failed, our unit was sent in.  We accomplished the task ,and joined with the outpost.