tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37700189818567112062024-03-14T10:50:19.829+02:00al's two cents'Hurtling headlong into the future - art, politics, love, branding, environmentalism & everything in betweenal mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.comBlogger44125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-56057243477093291082012-12-10T11:58:00.000+02:002012-12-10T13:55:57.717+02:00The racism of accepting the status quo<br />
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Democratic South Africa is nearly twenty years old, and the prosperous and peaceful rainbow nation we dreamed of has, as yet, failed to
materialise. There are pockets where our dream has become a reality, but in
general most black South Africans remain poor and marginalised and that makes a
mockery of the South African dream.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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At the launch of <a href="http://www.kalahari.com/books/Conversations-with-My-Sons-and-Daughters/632/46145253.aspx" target="_blank">her new book</a> a few weeks ago, Dr Mamphela
Ramphele said something which suddenly brought clarity to the whole issue for
me. She urged the audience to ask themselves why we are in this predicament of black poverty and exclusion.
“When you ask yourself why, you are bound to confront the question: is it
because black people are stupid and lazy?” she said.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The question is bluntly phrased, and for a very good reason.
It helps us to cut through all the crap we tell ourselves to justify our lives.
Dr Ramphele is right - there really are only two possible answers to that
question:</div>
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<ol>
<li>That we believe black people are stupid and lazy</li>
<li>That we believe there is systemic exclusion of huge swathes of our
society. </li>
</ol>
Anything else is a candy-coated version of one of those two.<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Dr Ramphele’s question made me realise that<b> it is racist to
accept the status quo. It is not just apathetic, or defeatist or apolitical. It
is racist. </b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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If you do not believe that black people are stupid and lazy,
you must concede that the conditions many find themselves in are random. The lottery of birth dealt that hand, and it could just as easily have been thrust on you. </div>
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It should make us feel sick because
it means that there is an oppressive structure in South Africa; that we are
part of a system that excludes, exploits and ignores people. And not just
“people” in some vague, detached collective. Actual people exactly like you.
They could be your mother, or your daughter or your uncle or your grandfather. And this is not some “Apartheid
legacy” or “historical context” either – those terms are some of the more common candy coatings we find. This is the current structure of our
society. This is the reality of our people today.<b> It is the life that most
South Africans wake up to. </b><o:p></o:p></div>
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It means that if we are not trying, every single day – in
one way or another – to break down that social and economic exclusion, to free
people from this oppressive system, then we are racist. <b>Only a smug, deluded
and racist sense that 'we' deserve to be where we and 'they' deserve to be where
they are could possibly justify being able to live with the inequality in our
society. </b><o:p></o:p></div>
al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-27597296516545676022012-10-16T14:41:00.000+02:002012-10-16T14:43:52.061+02:00Twenty years of pointless blinkersThere have been so many events this year to prove that
we have a long way to go in terms of social cohesion in this country. The
Spear showed how easily cultural sensitivities can be both overlooked and
inflamed, and the scuffle at Joburg Pride was a sad reminder of how little
unity there is in the “gay community”. Worse than that, there seems to be very little knowledge of one another's lives and histories. Until a month ago, I had never even heard of Simon Nkoli.<br />
<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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The fall of western hegemony should have presented white
South Africans with a beautiful opportunity to wake from the terrible spell we were under – the delusion that we are part of the western world – and to
finally see what a rich, interesting and incredible melting pot we live in.
Surely it’s time to wake up to our real context? (The lyrics to <i>Binding</i> by
Florence and the Machine spring to mind: “no more dreaming like a girl so in
love with the wrong world”)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The greatest regions in the world were built by diversity.
New York celebrates its status as a global melting pot. Cities at the
crossroads of diverse cultures are the most creative, the most innovative, the
most interesting. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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We are sitting on a cultural gold pot, South Africa, and yet
we hate it. So many of us are still stuck in our old, dull, segregated comfort
zones – almost 20 years after the fall of the system that put us in them. Heritage
and culture are not genetic – so why do we continue to mindlessly reproduce
them in segregated ways? The parts of South African culture that I love and am
most proud of are certainly not the Anglophone lineage, from which I suppose I
technically come. And isn’t it time we started constructing a composite South
African culture with elements from all of them? <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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It breaks my heart that listening to Simphiwe Dana or Miriam
Makeba or Thandiswa Mazwai is met with surprise. Why is it more cool to have
some arb Australian “indie” band on your iPod? Why is it so hip to have a Peruvian
restaurant in Cape Town, or even Ethiopian food now (it’s so trendy and
African!) – but we don’t see umngqusho anywhere except cringey restaurants
intended for tourists? What the hell is wrong with us that we idolise anything
foreign and have no curiosity for the wonders of our fellow South Africans’
culture, music, food, traditions? <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Why are we so scared to get to know one another and to
celebrate one another? I’m so fucking bored of the idea that there is black music
and white music, black culture and white culture, black drinks and white
drinks. We live in one of the brightest, most incredible countries in the world, and yet we choose to pretend we're in a bland, monotonous one. Until, of course, foreigners come and make documentaries about us to tell us how interesting we are. When will we wake up?<o:p></o:p></div>
al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-62303260296659781672012-09-12T22:20:00.000+02:002012-09-12T22:20:49.019+02:00Between black and white<br />
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<i>An edited version of this post, How whites can reconcile, appeared in <b>City Press</b> in July - you can <a href="http://www.citypress.co.za/Columnists/How-whites-can-reconcile-20120630">view it here</a>.</i></div>
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Many excellent pieces of introspection and reflection have
been written recently, and it is about time. We haven’t done enough introspection
to date in South Africa, and this is especially true among white people. We are
a nation emerging from a mass tragedy – much like the Germans after World War
II – and yet too few white South Africans have ever questioned their complicity
in the atrocities committed, or how we can play a part in rebuilding our
country. Too many have just coasted
along since 1994 and expected the country to ‘move on’, without realising how
much we have to work on ourselves to build a new nation. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>Being White in South
Africa<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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I did not grow up feeling white. I don’t come from a particularly
racialised home, nor were my parents political. My family all voted Progressive
and my aunt was arrested once or twice for protesting against Apartheid when
she was at Wits, but they were by no means a revolutionary family. <o:p></o:p></div>
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As soon as I could piece together what had happened in South
Africa (I was ten in 1994) I became truly disgusted by white South Africa. I was
angry that the older white people I knew had not been more active in opposing
it, and I wanted no part of white society – and have, to this day, prickled
with irritation if white people assume I share some sort of solidarity with
them.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Luckily for me, it was the Golden Age of Mandela and South
Africa was bursting with excitement. As a new nation, we were getting to know
one another. I had black friends at school, and new realms of popular culture were
opening up to me. I listened to Yfm and bought Miriam Makeba CDs. I felt proud
of my country watching as every year there were more wealthy, successful black
people in our malls and on our TVs. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Throughout my teenage years and early twenties the Rainbow
Nation was fully real to me. I felt like “my culture” was a composite of the
previously disparate cultures of SA – and “my people” was South Africans. There
was no ‘us’ and ‘them’ – and if there was, it was between the young, integrated
generation with which I identified and the older, conservative, divided
racists. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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It has only recently become clear to me just how much of my
self-esteem derived from being accepted by black people. I needed that acceptance
to give me a sense of belonging, to legitimise my identity as a proud citizen
of a non-racial new South Africa. It was an acceptance that I felt among young
people, but also an acceptance that I took for granted. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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And recently, I feel like that acceptance is being
withdrawn. South Africa, more and more, wants to define me as white.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Here is why: not enough white South Africans have put in the
work required.</b> Not enough white people have genuinely committed themselves to
this new nation of ours or grasped just how different it needs to be from where
we come from. Too many seem to think the change has already happened; that the
political transition is over, so can’t everyone just get on with things? They
feel the pressure is off, when in fact the pressure is only now starting to
build. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Here is the thing that white people need to understand:
Apartheid <i>was </i>that bad. It was a
ruthless, evil, cold and dehumanising system of structural oppression,
deprivation and violence. People were tortured, people lost their homes, people
had their salaries capped at near starvation levels and people were subjected
to an education system designed to enslave them. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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It was not, as FW de Klerk is so fond of saying, just a
failed experiment in separate development. That was never the intention and it
blows my mind that anyone can buy into that hogwash. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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It will take decades to recover from Apartheid and get to a
point where every child has equal opportunities in South Africa. The status quo
is still completely unacceptable. Our Constitution envisages the sustainable
and equitable transformation of society based on socio-economic rights, and we
should all be anxious to accelerate that process or risk being derailed by
radicals who are also, rightly, unimpressed with the pace of change but whose
solutions will only make things worse. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Apartheid was also – and here is another penny that needs to
drop – psychologically damaging for white people. White South Africans are
psychologically damaged. We need to acknowledge this in order to move on. Apartheid
desensitised white South Africans to human suffering and filled most of them
with an unthinking sense of superiority and fear. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Perhaps most damaging of all, Apartheid blinded white South
Africans to the enormous privilege they enjoy. The result is the bizarre
situation we now find ourselves in, in which many white people are enormously
privileged while simultaneously feeling marginalised and put upon.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I saw an exacerbated comment on twitter the other day about
reconciliation in South Africa from a white guy who said: “Why are we still
talking about this? Haven’t we done enough?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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No, we haven’t.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We haven’t all become fluent in the indigenous languages of
our home country. Worse, some will judge a black South African’s intelligence
purely on his or her accent in English, and completely overlook the humbling
and impressive multilingualism of so many black South Africans.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We haven’t yet learnt to listen to differing points of view
before trying to ram what we think down people’s throats. But we demand to be
listened to ourselves.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Most of us don’t yet even notice, let alone feel
uncomfortable, when there are only white people in a boardroom or in an advert
or in a restaurant. But I know many who would leave a club if it were ‘too
black’.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In short, we haven’t yet freed ourselves from the blindness
of privilege and the last vestiges of subtle racism. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The consensus is emerging to call this paradigm ‘whiteness’.
I dislike the name because generalisations are never true and seldom useful. They
almost always lead to prejudice. “Whiteness” does not afflict all white people,
and nor do I think there is anything <i>inherently</i>
white about it – it crops up in various parts of the world at various points in
history. It just so happens that in South Africa, at this point in time, it is
a paradigm typical to many white people. Name aside, the phenomenon is real. It
is a disconnected, insensitive sense of arrogance and lack of self-awareness. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Think of how many people rant about affirmative action
without considering just how many more opportunities they had before they got
to that job interview than the other guy had. As children, they almost
certainly had more books at home, never went hungry, and attended better
schools. They were also probably more likely to have been given a leg up. If
it’s not what you know, but who you know that matters, then white South
Africans are already at an advantage in terms of economic inclusion. And how many
will actively try to hire from outside their social circle and expand
opportunities to previously marginalised people? <o:p></o:p></div>
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Think of how many will speak about ‘their tax money’ as if
they should have more say in government because they have more money, implying
those without money are somehow lazy and not, in fact, suffering from decades
of Apartheid’s deliberate restriction of skills and asset accumulation. <o:p></o:p></div>
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South Africa is angry at the moment and many are giving up
on the reconciliation project. This upsets me because I think we could be an
amazing country, and it frightens me because things will get very ugly if we
give up on ourselves. <o:p></o:p></div>
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White South Africans have an important role to play in
dissipating that anger. We need to genuinely commit to being part of the
transformation of South African society, and to realise that transformation is
as much about transforming ourselves as it is about numbers or demographics. It
is not what other people must do; it is what every single one of us must do.
The real work of building a new South Africa is less in the grand, national government
programmes and more in the hundreds of interactions and tiny decisions we make each
day. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The real work is in becoming conscious. <o:p></o:p></div>
al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-26908918246844137132012-01-12T09:45:00.000+02:002012-01-12T09:45:37.990+02:00From obvious to subtle: the shifting face of racism<b>Why it's surprising for many to discover racism in Cape Town</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
The sad truth is, there are still plenty of racist South Africans. No one can guess the percentages, and I would imagine (and hope) that it is a tiny minority of people, but they are there. Those of us who grew up in the golden years of Mandela don’t like to see it or to admit to ourselves how far we still have to go, but racism is still a problem that we have not yet laid to rest in this country. 18 years is not a long time in which to change the entire paradigm of 50 million people.<br />
<br />
As a “white” South African, I have been subjected to those skin-crawlingly awful and infuriating situations in which other, usually older, white South Africans say something derogatory about another race group in my company on the assumption that I will be okay with it. I’m sure many of us have been in those situations. Nothing makes my blood boil more than racists who think I share some sort of solidarity with them because we’re both white. And more than that, I find white racism so much more offensive than racism from black people towards me. It is worse because a nation that chose to forgive the unspeakably evil things carried out during Apartheid is deserving of nothing but awe and gratitude from white South Africans and those who continue to believe they are superior to other race groups should be ashamed of themselves.<br />
<br />
But I digress. My point is this: in my experience (I know, my experience isn’t the point – I’ll get on to that), I find Cape Town one of the least racist places I have been in South Africa. The kind of exchange I mention above, where some racist asshole says something they assume everyone will agree with, has never once happened to me in Cape Town. It has happened to me a lot in PE, for example, and I imagine it happens in small towns all over the country, but not once in Cape Town have I had to go to war with an openly racist person. I’ve never had the feeling that “white Cape Town” sees itself as a community in a laager. And white Capetonians, in my experience, have never struck me as racist. They are chilled, easygoing and pretty liberal, and that was one of the things I loved about the city (Incidentally, I feel the same about Johannesburg, where I grew up. It’s not surprising that our biggest cities are the most progressive.)<br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>Why white people’s experience in this debate doesn’t really matter</b><br />
<br />
The only thing my experience of Cape Town proves is that we have succeeded in creating a city in which racists do not feel safe disclosing their views to others. We have a city in which it is simply not okay to say racist things, and a lot of us, therefore, assume that no one<i> thinks</i> racist things. We should be proud of that, for sure. It is a step in the right direction that racists cannot spread their poison openly here. But we should not be smug. Open racism is only the most obvious kind and it is also, perhaps, the easiest to stamp out. Getting rid of it is only the first step in a long process of growing social cohesion.<br />
<br />
<b>Why the defensiveness?</b><br />
<br />
I would guess the simple reason so many white Capetonians got defensive in the "Cape Town is racist" debate is that <b>they don't like racism</b>, and because they probably never hear other white Capetonians saying anything racist (as they still do, sadly, in other parts), they believed the city was being maligned for something they did not see to be true. It was not a particularly sensitive or useful reaction, but it makes sense. When a city sees itself as progressive and liberal, it is quite a shock to hear that it is not experienced that way by another group of people. I was also surprised by the massive discrepancy between my experience and that of my black friends when I first heard the assertion that the city is racist. Clearly, the racism that exists – by the accounts of black friends and twitterati – is precisely the kind that white people would not see unless they looked really hard. It is not obvious, and it is not directed at other white people in the way that racist jokes are. By definition, white people cannot experience it, but that does not mean it does not exist.<br />
<br />
<b>So where to from here?</b><br />
<br />
If there is a problem of pockets of racism in Cape Town, it needs to be addressed. Ranking our cities on their level of racism is a bizarre and completely useless exercise. But what we should be doing, in every city that we live in across SA, is trying to stamp out all forms of racism – even the quiet, underhanded, hard-to-see kind. All that really matters, in the end, is how people interact, and how they treat one another. If black, coloured or Indian people have been treated badly by certain institutions in the city, then ALL of us need to listen to that experience and do what we can to change it.<br />
<br />
The problem is the subtle, underhanded racism is much harder to deal with than the obvious kind. It is something that lingers in certain people’s minds and can only be addressed by introspection, not legislation. Those of us who would like to make Cape Town as welcoming and open as we believed it was before our blindness was pointed out should be boycotting establishments that treat black Capetonians with disrespect. All of us should consider every action we take with increased sensitivity. Privilege is blinding - try to see when others are not afforded the same opportunities as you, and take on the person responsible. You may not consider yourself racist at all. But, for example, are you hiring a new intern because you know his parents? That has pretty racist outcomes if your family friends are all the same race as you. Do you get irritable when someone is battling to express themselves because your language isn’t their first language? Do you strike up conversations with someone of a different race when you’re sitting at a bar, alone, waiting for someone?<br />
<br />
There are a thousand different interactions every day that contribute to how others’ feel about us and our city. Slowly but surely the infrastructure of the city is reintegrating and drawing our communities together, but that will only lead to co-existence rather than cohesion if we do not look deep within our behaviour and our assumptions. The problem has not gone away until none of our residents experience it. And the problem is also not going to be fixed by other people.al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-76482939521215849382011-09-01T11:48:00.000+02:002011-09-01T11:48:43.091+02:00Why I don't like talking about race<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;">Everyone keeps saying we need to have the “race debate” in South Africa, as if that is so revolutionary and enlightened and cutting edge to do so. And it isn’t. Getting over race, in fact, was what the Struggle was for. The victory against Apartheid was a victory against thinking that someone’s race is the most important thing about them, and that they should be treated differently for something as arbitrary as their skin colour. And it was a victory against prescribing to other people how they should behave or think because of our own categorisations. Overthrowing Apartheid meant South Africans standing up and saying that we want to be counted as human beings of worth, independent of any system of classification. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;">Far from being progressive, race is a concept that had it’s heyday in the 20<sup>th</sup> Century. It has been proven to be scientifically invalid. It is blunt, dehumanising and has only ever done the world harm (from Hitler’s genocide to Rwanda to our very own Apartheid). It is a social construct, not a genetic one. And like all social constructs, it only exists for as long as we believe it does. So I find the increasing mention of race in public discourse profoundly depressing. <span> </span>(Though not all that surprising, considering the pressure mounting on government for delivery and the need for a scape goat.)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;">But only recently did I start to understand why so many of my black friends think it is important to discuss: because they think white people saying race does not exist is a cop-out. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;">White people, so the story goes, created this mess that we’re in and are now trying to say that everyone must just get over it because actually we’re all equal. It’s a cover for being anti-affirmative action, or for perpetuating the bubbles in which so many wealthy people live. And that is not what I mean at all (I can only speak for myself, of course.) That interpretation would piss me off, too. It sounds like the person saying it refuses to acknowledge how horrific Apartheid was or how much still needs to be done to fix that.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;">I fully acknowledge what a mess Apartheid made of South Africa. It ripped the social fabric apart, it stripped people of their dignity, their livelihoods and their opportunities. It was an awful, evil regime steered by monsters. It breaks my heart that people can do that to one another. And I have fought with older people my whole life about how they did not do more to overthrow it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;">And that, I think, is the challenge of many young white South Africans. We cannot believe that such evil was carried out in our name. It makes us angry, but our anger doesn’t help those who were screwed over, and our anger isn’t even recognised because we are seen as the “beneficiaries”. But we didn’t want it, we didn’t ask for it. We don’t want this to be our history. But we have no control over what came before us.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;">And so yes, admitting that white people benefitted from Apartheid is a step. In one sense it’s not even controversial because it’s so obvious. But then “benefit” is a strange word to use when I believe all of us (black and white) would have been better off had Apartheid never happened. We would live in a much more prosperous, cohesive society. Black South Africans would have been accumulating the same wealth and skills as white South Africans for generations by now. We would be an upper-middle income country with almost none of the social problems we have today. But that is the spectacular short-sightedness of the architects of Apartheid: screwing the entire country for their misguided belief in the importance of race. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;">And yes, more needs to be done to fix it. I think every citizen in this country should be doing all they can to address the poverty and hopelessness that exist. I’d love to see a national volunteer programme. And I’m not against the idea of a white tax for the sake of atonement and reconciliation (though I think, unfortunately, that wealth redistribution won’t fix our problems – only education and wealth creation will). I believe in transformation, and enterprise development and BBBEE. These measures are all necessary to mend our psyche and they are important to address the historical imbalances in our economy. I think everyone should be furious to hear of the glacial pace of executive transformation recently announced in the press. We need more black CEOs and more black entrepreneurs. But what we really don’t need is the increasing trend to believe in things like “white tendencies” or “black Twitter.” Realising that race-based measures are still required in SA does not mean seeing the world through the lens of race is ever good for anyone. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;">So while the debate around transformation does need to happen, it must never assume that “race” is a permanent, real, or worthy way to segment people. It disguises obvious things, like that there were white Freedom Fighters, that inequality has<i> increased</i> in South Africa since Apartheid and is no longer all that racial, or that wealthy black people who treat poor black people badly are just as cruel as wealthy white people who do it. Making everything about race detracts from what really needs to be done to make South Africa fairer. And it inhibits us personally in our relationships with everyone around us.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;">Wouldn’t it be great if we lived in a South Africa where “my people” could mean fellow cyclists, or marketers, or people-who-hate-scary movies? Wouldn’t it be great if we <i>chose </i>which communities we belonged to, and which we identified with, and we didn’t have the media, and politicians telling us what we think or who we feel affinity for? I am just as entitled to be furious with white racists as black people are. I’m just as likely to like chicken. I know for a fact that I have much more in common with my black friends than I do with many white people. So why, why, are we STILL looking for commonalities or characteristics of “what makes us black” or “what makes us white”? Nothing does, is the short answer. We’re all just people. Motley and diverse and opinionated and wonderful. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;">We need to listen to one another. We need to get to know one another. We need to trust that we all want South Africa to do better, and to be better. That was the whole point of the Struggle. And if we see each other as black or white first, and individual people only second, then Verwoerd and his bastard crew won. </span></span><o:p></o:p></div>al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-75786251773950803462011-05-06T07:23:00.000+02:002011-05-06T07:23:15.088+02:00What do you see?Being a good guy is inconvenient. Our brains are hardwired to save time by filling in the missing detail before we have grasped a concept or seen something fully. We needed it for evolution. We see what could possibly be fragments of a lion between the rustling grass, and we think we see the lion. And we baleka. And we live. The guys who didn't want to assume anything until they saw the whole lion probably got eaten. And ended that evolutionary line.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbR4BF4SKoGX2tMN0NoH6_PbTM9mqEnBJgmMFITyVF8LnttzIexKDB6Bz1PGPQ8qCULDdssQ_zJgUw_Uki40ZXFmWOF5iYXaqrfhgKgNiET4f8sZfR545FPwFOToroQhdt2vHkN3vIlNd9/s1600/lion+in+the+grass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbR4BF4SKoGX2tMN0NoH6_PbTM9mqEnBJgmMFITyVF8LnttzIexKDB6Bz1PGPQ8qCULDdssQ_zJgUw_Uki40ZXFmWOF5iYXaqrfhgKgNiET4f8sZfR545FPwFOToroQhdt2vHkN3vIlNd9/s1600/lion+in+the+grass.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>And we do it every day, in every tiny action. I'm no linguist, but I'd guess it's a necessary part of language, actually - to use experience to fill in the missing detail, and categorise everything. Instead of spending all morning trying to grasp the intricacies of the contraption in your friend's kitchen, experience tells you it's almost certainly a fridge - even if you haven't seen that particular model before. Happy with the judgement call, you move on to more interesting discussions, like when the brownies will be ready. But when it comes to concepts and other people, that in-built pattern-recogniser is exactly the problem: As soon as we have found a category for someone or some idea, we disengage. We no longer spend energy trying to understand them or it. We think we have, already.<br />
<br />
The labels we give one another certainly save time. But they stop us from really seeing the other person. Once someone is "woman" or a "Marxist" or an "accountant" or a "boyfriend", a whole bunch of expectations, beliefs and prejudices kick in in our dealings with them. We become guided, to a large extent, by our <i>experience with that category of person</i>, rather than with the individual. And the same is true of ideas. Once we recognise enough in what someone is saying to classify it, we stop listening. We can write it off as "religion" or "capitalism" or "environmentalism" and we'll miss the interesting new points that are being made.<br />
<br />
It is the greatest disservice to another person to think you understand them just because you know similar people. You owe it to them not to fill in the missing detail for yourself, but to spend the time finding it out. Google outcompeted the other search engines precisely because it did not navigate the web by categories, but by the actual details of every specific piece of content. That is what turns out the greatest value. In people and ideas, too.al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-19508344551743874562011-04-10T15:37:00.000+02:002011-04-10T15:37:51.399+02:00Development and the removal of choice<div class="MsoNormal">Africa has joined the urbanisation binge that the world is on, and is catching up fast. Lagos is set to be one of the biggest cities in the world soon, rivalling the likes of Tokyo and Shanghai, and our very own Gauteng megacity (if that is still the strategy for Gauteng) also fills me with awe with its sheer scale and sprawl. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But you will note that I no longer live in Jozi. I discovered somewhere along the way of my life so far, that I need to be close to nature. I developed the habit of climbing <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthur's_Seat,_Edinburgh">Arthur’s Seat </a>whenever I needed to be alone with my thoughts at varsity, and have never shaken that need. One of the reasons I chose to live in Cape Town is exactly that, too: I can smell the sea and see the mountains. Nature is all around me, and it keeps me calm.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And so it makes me profoundly sad to think that Africa, the last great untouched wilderness, is giving in to the greed and ugliness of industrialisation, modernisation and “development”. Without sounding too esoteric, I often wonder whether modernisation was the downfall of our species – that we were happiest when we were in touch with nature and each other in the Garden of Eden / Avatar’s Pandora / whatever metaphor you like. I think many “indigenous cultures” have more wisdom and fulfilment in them than any modern ones do, and that the modern world is full of the exact distractions that keep us from attaining true happiness, in the Buddhist sense. Having a great expanse of untouched nature is necessary in order to restore and replenish us when we feel overwhelmed.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But aside from that hippy train of thought, the world would be a richer, more interesting place for everybody if it kept some of its diversity intact. Variety is the spice of life and all that. Even if you love the city, it is boring and monotonous to cover the whole world in it. Surely everyone should have the right to escape the modern world if they choose to?<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But they don’t have that right. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Because everyone should also have the right to make of their lives what they will. And spreading opportunities requires spreading economic growth. Rural Africans have the same right to become doctors or physicists or actors as Americans or Japanese or Germans do. If we believe in equality of opportunity as an ideal for human society (and I don’t believe there is anyone left on earth who does not), then we necessitate getting all human societies to a certain level of wealth in order to offer people within them opportunities. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It is a strange thing to get our heads around: we pursue economic growth in order to give people opportunity and choice. And yet, in so doing, we obliterate their choice to opt out of industrialisation. It’s sadly ironic that such a high percentage of people in the already fast-paced and modern cities yearn to live in nature, while so many in the “developing world” dream of the opportunities of cities.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It is a crisis of geography, and freedom of movement. Wouldn’t it be fantastic if, instead of turning the entire planet into one generic city with opportunities for all no matter where you are, we interviewed every child or family and asked them the kind of life they would like to lead? Those who wanted modern lives could be placed in flourishing modern cities to pursue their dreams. And those who wanted to fish or farm or live humble lives in nature could be placed in the jungles, mountains or coasts that make them happy. The injustice of unequal development would be removed, because it would no longer be an accident of geography, but an individual choice. And those “undeveloped” regions of the world could be proud of all the wonder that is in them, that today, they seem so keen to forget. <o:p></o:p></div>al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-39895555087008792132011-01-27T22:25:00.000+02:002011-01-27T22:25:59.623+02:00Branding your PlumberI am for the little guy. I really am. It's the reason I love the "buy local" movement, independent publishers, artisan brewers. It's the reason I use MTN. Okay, they're not so little, but they are the younger brother; the upstart, the second-to-market. So while I spend my days thinking about how to craft powerful brands for clients, part of me always loves when people choose not to buy brands. When they hand-make something. Or buy from a friend.<br />
<br />
But I challenge anyone out there to be for the little guy when it comes to plumbing. Over the past few days I have had experiences that would have me all over Hello Peter if there were organisations behind them to bitch about. First off, my geyser went cold. Annoying, but these things happen. I called a plumber - who my flatmate randomly found in the Yellow Pages. He arrived, was very sweet, spent the afternoon up in my roof and left. He billed me nearly a grand, but I appreciate that there were parts he needed to buy. But how, exactly, did he get to that figure? He seemed to make it up on the spot when I asked what I owed him.<br />
<br />
Skip to 30 hours later. I'm in bed, reading. My neighbour phones me to tell me my geyser has burst. I run through to my bathroom and see boiling hot water pouring through the ceiling. I run around like a headless chicken for a bit, decide the wisest thing to do is to phone my mother, 980kms away, and fight with her about where the water main is. It turns out, it's in my downstairs neighbour's garden UNDER A DECK. We had to unscrew all the decking and remove the planks to be able to turn off the water.<br />
<br />
So by this point I have realised two things:<br />
1) the previous owner was a stupid tit (but good with his hands)<br />
2) Plumber A had no idea what he was doing.<br />
<br />
Because of point 2 above, I called Plumber B (yes, sourced from the Yellow Pages). Plumber B tells me that the thermostat was broken (the one that Plumber A had installed the day before) and replaces the valve that blew. When I asked what I owe he replied, off the top of his head, "seven-hundred." Then he thought about that for a bit and said "that sounds a bit cheap. It was R1000." Clearly by then I looked more baffled by the process than horrified by the price yet (which I was, but my facial expressions can only do one thing at a time) so he added, for good measure "minus VAT."<br />
<br />
And that's not it. He then proceeded to give me a speech about how my geyser is old and is going to blow again soon. Why doesn't he replace it now? I ask. He doesn't recommend it. And that judgement was given with the sage finality that I should just say thank you and move on with my life. He looked Anna Wintour-esque when I insisted, "but <i>why</i> don't you recommend it?" "The insurance won't pay" He told me. "Come to think of it, it was all very badly installed in the beginning. I doubt that it's SABS approved. The insurance probably won't pay even when it does blow."<br />
<br />
It was then that I decided I hate plumbers. Each and every one (and I've spent my whole life arguing against generalisations). And in plumbing, I hate the little guy. Because if there were a big branded company, you would know who you are going to get. You would have a sense of who to trust and who is no good. Or at least where to look. There would be professionalism, and some transparency about billing. There would be a process to deal with my dissatisfaction. And, most importantly, I would be able to smear their name if they disappointed me so wildly. But there is no mass revolt I can launch against these plumbers, because no one knows who they are anyway, and no one thinks to asks their friends for advice when they need a plumber. So their reputation is protected by their insignificance and I am left writing an angry diatribe, with a geyser that's probably going to burst again, while they drink Mojitos on my money.al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-7826276011396235202010-11-05T08:03:00.001+02:002010-11-05T08:08:22.944+02:00The Loquacious Popularity Contest<div class="MsoNormal">Shakespeare would have hated Twitter. And not only because all modern communication forces us to condense whatever we’re saying into easily digested, tiny nuggets of scan-friendly information. Not only because our “Glance-and-Click culture” (to use <a href="http://sethgodin.typepad.com/">Seth Godin</a>’s genius term for it) has damaged our ability to engage with prose, to have the patience it takes to let something beautiful and transformative emerge from the storyteller. But also because writing today is as much a popularity contest as it is a display of insightful observation and a natural way with words. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Take my friend Simon. He writes very, very well. He’s published all over the place. And a good deal of his time is spent manning social media channels, chipping in with his opinion, responding to comments. He is also a very amiable person offline, completely at ease making friends at bars with a beer in his hand, getting worked up about the stuff he believes in and arguing with people about things. And the result of all of this, of course, is that he has very many friends. And very many fans and followers. His travel update emails no longer even display the recipient addresses for fear of overwhelming them. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Were he ever to write a book, his audience would already be there. His market may be untapped, but it is identifiable and quantifiable. And I would hazard a guess that most publishers today take into account the size of a writer’s social network before agreeing to sign them. This seems like a new era for writers, that requires an entirely new skill set. I’ve always imagined the Shakespeares and Hemmingways and Patons of this world to have been reclusive, introverted and quiet. And perhaps those kinds of writers will no longer cut it.</div>al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-9137029901440032352010-08-21T11:59:00.000+02:002010-08-21T11:59:16.994+02:00The Importance vs Urgency MatrixBeing the ultimate nerd that I am, I attended a webinar on time management on Thursday. Actually it's less about nerdy proactiveness and more about survival. I felt I was teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown a month ago, and I've seen enough people older than me to know that we only get more balls in the air, more to deal with and more to cram into our days until we're about sixty. To be overwhelmed by 26 is relatively embarrassing.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKlBjuVDGDduR1Lc-hAbWJWGr2CT1_7gT4xILacFRPiCkMaNwEgh26QltDnod47jhTt7dZEO36LxLnR-W2x8WxLK03DyfzxFJJL4CRpkqsm3koUDeOQdL5sWNBTMB6c2OJ3sSZPK1wo9jk/s1600/time_management_quadrants.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKlBjuVDGDduR1Lc-hAbWJWGr2CT1_7gT4xILacFRPiCkMaNwEgh26QltDnod47jhTt7dZEO36LxLnR-W2x8WxLK03DyfzxFJJL4CRpkqsm3koUDeOQdL5sWNBTMB6c2OJ3sSZPK1wo9jk/s200/time_management_quadrants.bmp" width="200" /></a>The hosts of the webinar had English-midlands accents, a slow, serious way of speaking and exuded whatever the opposite of charisma is. The whole experience was so washed out and linoleumy that I felt like I was in an episode of The Office. And all the matrices and quadrants they introduced did was to try and help people separate the urgent from the important.<br />
<br />
I unplugged my earphones before the hour was up, pissed off that I'd lost time that I needed to put together a presentation.<br />
<br />
It was only this morning that I realised that's not just a handy skill for effective time management. The inability to see the difference between what is important and what is urgent is responsible for pretty much every dysfunction of the modern world. It's why we mindlessly pursue economic growth at the expense of the planet and our survival. It's why we lose touch with friends because we're always rushing to a meeting. Urgency gives us an adrenaline rush. The adrenaline hooks us. And then we wake up at 65 and realise we've wasted our whole lives chasing unimportant things.<br />
<br />
Maybe these quadrants will save the world.al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-31439432150818580652010-08-18T22:54:00.000+02:002010-08-18T22:54:21.297+02:00Our global storyThere were some incredible speakers at the <a href="http://tedxstellenbosch.org/">TEDx</a> in Stellenbosch on Friday. Lots of inspiration and some amazing work being done to <a href="http://free2work.org/">end child slavery</a> globally (it's everywhere, apparently), stimulate <a href="http://www.socialedge.org/features/opportunities/awethu-social-entrepreneurship-fellowship">entrepreneurship in South Africa</a> and help <a href="http://ubuntuatwork.org/">uplift women</a>. The budding digital marketer in me loved hearing about how social media had triumphed over print media in reversing international public opinion about South Africa during the World Cup. And I even got to learn about the global and barbaric persecution of sharks (though the speaker failed to mention <i>why</i> they are so important. It turns out they keep oxygen-generating plankton levels healthy in the oceans and without them we will suffocate. But I had to find that out from my brother)<br />
<br />
But the most interesting talk at TEDx, I thought, was Peter Willis's The Story of our Future. He made the point that never before has there been a singular global narrative; there have only been regional dominant narratives. And that human beings cannot function without a story. It's hardwired into our understanding of the world that there are beginnings, actions and consequences. We are motivated by stories with happy endings.<br />
<br />
And so the dominant stories we told ourselves, and that provided context for all our actions, were:<br />
<br />
<br />
<ul><li>In Medieval society, that God was at the top of a hierarchical universe, in which everyone knew his or her place, and being humble and obedient and doing what was expected of you guaranteed you a place in Heaven.</li>
</ul><ul><li>In the Scientific Age, that the Universe functions on rules, and that if you study and learn all the rules, you can know everything worth knowing and alter the world to make it cooperate.</li>
</ul><ul><li>The current dominant story is that of capitalist growth. That if you work hard and buy things and spend money, you will be guaranteed a place in the mythical and always-just-out-of-reach Consumer Heaven.</li>
</ul><br />
<br />
The problem, of course, is that this story is rubbish. Consumer Heaven does not exist and does not make us happy, but, more importantly, the planet is finite, her resources are finite, and capitalist growth is simply unsustainable. And so we are confronted with a very bleak story: if we continue along our current path, we will destroy ourselves. If we do not, we may survive. "Maybe surviving" isn't much of a happy ending to believe in or motivate ourselves. Which is why, perhaps, there is such widespread inaction about our crisis.<br />
<br />
The task we face, therefore, is not just one of proving the science of climate change. That has largely been done, and isn't galvanising people into action. Our task is to collectively define a narrative to believe in. And his suggestion, which echoes my man <a href="http://www.eckharttolle.com/home/">Ekhart Tolle</a>, is that Heaven is right here. I'm thinking we need to make that a little more ordinary sounding for politicians and business leaders to get their heads around.al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-63679355195714152292010-08-18T22:20:00.001+02:002010-08-21T12:34:23.420+02:00You know you've arrived<div style="text-align: right;"></div>Since name-dropping seemed to be the favourite activity of the organiser of <a href="http://tedxstellenbosch.org/">TEDx Stellenbosch</a> (she must have mentioned the fact that she studied at Harvard as many times as ordinary people use the word "and"), I think it's safe to mention that I was stopped by no less than five people who wanted to know about <a href="http://thewrendesign.com/2010/02/24/the-ppc-cement-laptop-bag/">my laptop bag</a>. That's right people, five. And one of them even wanted a photo. <br />
<br />
After 18 months in Cape Town, I'm finally a trendoid.al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-33373766131087811962010-07-19T00:11:00.006+02:002010-07-19T21:12:10.633+02:00The meaning of workMy flatmate and I were discussing some work this afternoon, and how we find it almost impossible to motivate ourselves when we're not interested in something. Our initial hypothesis was that we are spoilt brats, torch-bearers of the Entitled Generation. But then, we are also very good at convincing ourselves we don’t have any flaws, and so we came to a second hypothesis: that girls (and, for the purposes of this theory, gay guys) are wired differently to men.<br />
<br />
Men can emotionally disengage from whatever they are doing. If they are good at it, that is enough for them. They can sit in front of a spreadsheet all day or crunch numbers and watch stock markets. Skills and intelligence in exchange for money. A rational, simple transaction. We, on the other hand, need to see the bigger picture, know what the work is going to be used for. And, most importantly, we need to believe in what we are doing. It needs to make a positive difference to the world and mean something. Work is an emotional investment<br />
<br />
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why men earn so much more than women. We have got to the bottom of it. It’s not prejudice. It’s not a secret community or a global old boy’s club. It’s the fact that meaning is a lot more difficult to find than projects or tasks that need to be done.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" src="http://www.facebook.com/plugins/like.php?href=http%3A%2F%2Falstwocents.blogspot.com%2F2010%2F07%2Fmeaning-of-work.html&layout=standard&show_faces=true&width=450&action=like&colorscheme=light&height=80" style="border: none; height: 80px; overflow: hidden; width: 450px;"></iframe>al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-40942855237323919112010-07-11T15:13:00.001+02:002010-07-11T15:19:42.167+02:00This time for Africa<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;">So there is a lot of buzz about the World Cup fanning the flames of xenophobia. The City of Cape Town is apparently making preparations to protect immigrants and minorities in the townships once it's over. I really, really hope I'm not missing something - but this all seems to be journalists feeling uncomfortable with constant good news and feeling like they need to bring up something scary in order to sound intelligent. </span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></div><div><a href="http://www.mg.co.za/cartoons/za1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="http://www.mg.co.za/cartoons/za1.jpg" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;">Nationalism is a pretty scary thing. Aside from religion, it has probably killed more people than any other ideology. But it is a bittersweet pill, because nationalism also helps to build great things. It unites people in a common dream which, I think, is necessary to form a peaceful and functioning society. The trick is to balance the heart-lifting feeling of "us" without creating an exclusionary "them". And the only way to do that is to ensure the sense of nationality comes from living in a place, not from genetics or bloodlines. It needs to be an "opt-in" nationalism; whereby if you live in South Africa, believe in South Africa and want to help build it, you're a South African. And I think that is the kind of nation we are trying to build.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1bGxtoU7nlhOUcu6QBsAfEHY8ks2bOq2Qfjv6uQiy4FI6K86XsQPKLsXQqTAxX9bd6W6tg6PkZlTEv4YhHQ66Z_UlTPglj1iTHseycVdCmA9DDApheJNEnhdlICKL2woO35Rfv_VR2ToJ/s1600/36657_439191751135_529421135_6415913_3862906_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1bGxtoU7nlhOUcu6QBsAfEHY8ks2bOq2Qfjv6uQiy4FI6K86XsQPKLsXQqTAxX9bd6W6tg6PkZlTEv4YhHQ66Z_UlTPglj1iTHseycVdCmA9DDApheJNEnhdlICKL2woO35Rfv_VR2ToJ/s320/36657_439191751135_529421135_6415913_3862906_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;">And as for our African brethren, the World Cup has done a lot to foster a feeling of continental community. It has always been the African World Cup. Shakira has us all singing "this time for Africa" at the top of our lungs in the streets. And never have I felt such a strong sense of unity as on Tuesday night, when everyone in Cape Town was bedecked in orange to rally behind Netherlands for the simple reason that their opponents (Uruguay) had been the team to kick "our" Ghanaian team out of the World Cup. The world cup has fostered pride in where we come from without making us exclusionary at all. In fact, we have been <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/shari-cohen/south-africa-rolls-out-th_b_611802.html">delighting the world with our genuine interest in other cultures</a> and other stories.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;">It may have been luck that we never played against another African country, but we didn't. Instead, the World Cup helped us to rally behind our neighbours and take pride in ourselves; a serendipitous leap towards the right kind of national community, and away from the horrors of the 2009 xenophobic attacks. I really hope we keep it up</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" src="http://www.facebook.com/plugins/like.php?href=http%3A%2F%2Falstwocents.blogspot.com%2F2010%2F07%2Fthis-time-for-africa.html&layout=standard&show_faces=true&width=450&action=like&colorscheme=light&height=80" style="border: none; height: 80px; overflow: hidden; width: 450px;"></iframe></span></span></span></div>al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-39604490585509516862010-06-24T10:07:00.001+02:002010-06-24T10:11:25.186+02:00Breaking upThere comes a time in every break up, when you suddenly stop hearing the onslaught of excuses, the world goes still and you find yourself thinking: fuck, I am going to end up a strange old spinster with cats, living above my best friend’s garage and being invited for pity-dinners by all my happily married friends. The eccentric - and by then safely asexual - token gay at the table, that all their future kids think is hysterically funny and confide in about their teenage crushes. It is usually at that point that I start to cry. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhcLsZpW9sghxOZY9haXbFTdqZVpR3MwJOXT9HiPQH3ndsRXwHqEp0xoDFT6PeyxfYY8kHtQVkTIqe_V2j5x5aSCpqfkctCpvYElN-5r-ZfUiJglO5Cbxc8g0Z7r_rEfjrECSxz1aASEx2/s1600/bridget-jones-single1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhcLsZpW9sghxOZY9haXbFTdqZVpR3MwJOXT9HiPQH3ndsRXwHqEp0xoDFT6PeyxfYY8kHtQVkTIqe_V2j5x5aSCpqfkctCpvYElN-5r-ZfUiJglO5Cbxc8g0Z7r_rEfjrECSxz1aASEx2/s200/bridget-jones-single1.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>That is, of course, if you are the breakupee, and not the breakupper. I realised the other day that I only really ever think of the breakups in which I was the breakupee. They form my whole frame of reference. In fact, I only consider the relationships in which I was broken up with proper relationships (the kind that get a whole finger when you’re counting). Which makes sense, I suppose. Because much as any decent person will claim they hate to be the bad guy, and they hate to hurt other people, it is much, much worse for the person who wasn’t expecting it and didn’t want it to happen: he or she was the partner who was more involved and more invested. The relationship meant more to them. And the breakupper, no matter how lovely, feels a sense of relief. <br />
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But there was an interesting twist in Friday night’s scene. Out of nowhere, it forgot to shatter my self-worth. I felt the usual shock and despair, obviously, and disbelief. And that nauseating feeling that I was about to lose someone who meant so much to me and defined so much of my life and experience in the past few months. The loneliness that pounces before the door has even closed behind him and the frustration that all the shared moments and imagined futures were for nothing. But not once did I think I had screwed up, or, as per previous self-flagellations, that I deserved it and it was obviously going to pan out that way. <br />
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Have I reached the end of teenage angst? At 26, have I finally grown up and learnt the Oprah (or was it Buddha?) lesson of valuing oneself and not taking things personally? It was a much healthier relationship than I have been in for years. Easy-going, natural, respectful and equal. Perhaps healthy relationships translate into less damaging breakups. Which is counter-intuitive, as there is more being lost. Or perhaps the man in question, a gentleman to the end, just put more effort into softening the blow, so the bruising will take longer to show. Whichever it turns out to be, I am going to hold on to the fact that my flat is too small a place to start collecting cats.<br />
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<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" src="http://www.facebook.com/plugins/like.php?href=http%3A%2F%2Falstwocents.blogspot.com%2F2010%2F06%2Fbreaking-up.html&layout=standard&show_faces=true&width=450&action=like&font=tahoma&colorscheme=light&height=80" style="border: none; height: 80px; overflow: hidden; width: 450px;"></iframe>al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-63889387622754667842010-06-03T18:16:00.001+02:002010-06-03T19:02:17.424+02:00Noticing the happy person in your bodyI have been told by three different people in the last month how happy I’m looking, and by the cleaner at work that I’m looking healthy (which, obviously, I assumed meant fat) The strange thing is, I hadn't noticed feeling particularly happy. I'm not unhappy at the moment, but I do have my usual background stress buzzing away in my head. And the propensity to overthink anything that could make me spontaneously happy hasn’t gone anywhere, either.<br />
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Which got me thinking about the bizarreness of not realising you’re happy, and then on to the nature of personality. How we feel about life is determined almost entirely by our own personality type with very little to do with external circumstances. Whether it’s chemical or spiritual or genetic, the point is the whole world is filtered and adapted so much by the kind of person we are that what we perceive often bears no resemblance to what others perceive. Think of the boyfriends you’ve had who you thought were fantastically wonderful to the utter disbelief of your friends.<br />
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And in the case of a depressed or judgemental person, or a bully, that personality type is abusing the experiencer within it as much as it is abusing others. It is the personality that makes us unhappy. So we are removed from our personalities; like they are behaviours and patterns and filters that float about out there annoying us about ourselves, or annoying us in other people.<br />
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And the experiencer is always the same. Simunye, the Hindus are right.<br />
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<iframe src="http://www.facebook.com/plugins/like.php?href=http%253A%252F%252Falstwocents.blogspot.com%252F2010%252F06%252Fnoticing-happy-person-in-your-body.html&layout=standard&show_faces=true&width=450&action=like&font=tahoma&colorscheme=light&height=80" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="border:none; overflow:hidden; width:450px; height:80px;" allowTransparency="true"></iframe>al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-81459234704448829752010-05-24T18:49:00.001+02:002010-05-24T18:52:47.602+02:00Trusting those who weren't paid to tell you somethingOn Wednesday to Friday last week I attended <a href="http://daveduarte.co.za">Dave Duarte</a>'s Nomadic Marketing course at UCT, and on this course I discovered what is supposed to be this year's Next Big Thing, <a href="http://www.foursquare.com">Foursquare</a>.<br />
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Foursquare is a social networking platform for mobile that centres around reviewing and sharing knowledge about a city. How it works is that people 'check in' to various spots around their city and leave comments, suggestions, ideas and feedback about the place that they're at. These comments also notify their friends. <br />
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So if I want to try a new restaurant out, for example, I would log in to foursquare on my phone and it will tell me where the nearest restaurants are to me right now (via GPS and googlemaps). I don't need to know this beforehand, and so essentially I don't need to have ever heard of the restaurant. As a marketer, it makes me think: is there therefore any value in 'brand awareness'? I don't need to have been bombarded with messages about which restaurants are the best in Cape Town, and I don't need to try and remember information that arrived when it wasn't relevant to me? (ie. when I wasn't looking for a restaurant at that exact moment).<br />
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We all know that 92.3% of stats are bullshit, but even so: a vast majority of people (between 70 and 90%) would trust their friends <i>or even strangers</i> over advertising. People have been barking on about the power of word of mouth for years. But now this word-of-mouth functionality is easy, instant and mobile. Assuming foursquare takes off, you will be able to see exactly what everyone (and especially all of your friends) thought of this restaurant just down the road from you.<br />
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Obviously, it means that marketing communications can't lie. No more fluff, no more exaggeration. But will there even be a point to advertising? If awareness is of limited value, and reputation is built by delivering something that people value rather than saying anything in particular, then why say anything? Your consumers will do the talking for you.<br />
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And what will the role and value of a brand be in the future? Brands are supposed to be shortcuts to make consumer decision-making easier (you don't have to think about the functional benefits or social ingredients of every soap in a store because the brand already stands for something in your mind) - but the route to mass peer reviews is becoming almost as short as the shortcut in your mind. <br />
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Granted this only works for location-based businesses at the moment, but I'm sure similar things will emerge for products and services soon. I've loved the platitude that "people are the new media" for ages, but only now can I appreciate what a massive shift this is going to be.<br />
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<iframe src="http://www.facebook.com/plugins/like.php?href=http%253A%252F%252Falstwocents.blogspot.com%252F2010%252F05%252Ftrusting-those-who-werent-paid-to-tell.html&layout=standard&show_faces=true&width=450&action=like&font=tahoma&colorscheme=light&height=80" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="border:none; overflow:hidden; width:450px; height:80px;" allowTransparency="true"></iframe>al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-36419969710332335772010-05-14T22:06:00.020+02:002010-05-20T22:32:34.950+02:00Some real green action in SA<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.optimalenergy.co.za/library/classes/3rdparty/phpthumb/phpthumb.php?w=540&h=405&src=/media/image/gallery/01_geneva-motor-show-2010---media-reveal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://www.optimalenergy.co.za/library/classes/3rdparty/phpthumb/phpthumb.php?w=540&h=405&src=/media/image/gallery/01_geneva-motor-show-2010---media-reveal.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Thanks to a cunning little banner ad on the <a href="http://www.mg.co.za/">Mail and Guardian</a> this evening (making me wonder if they are starting to sell their adspace on user behaviour models or interests, and if chrome is mining me for every click and search and rss feed... a topic for another debate, another time) I discovered that South Africa has its very own <a href="http://www.optimalenergy.co.za/about/">electric car design</a>. Granted, an electric car is only as clean as the national grid's electricity supply, which, in our case, is hideously filthy thanks to <a href="http://www.eskom.co.za/live/content.php?Category_ID=121">Eskom's obsession with coal</a>. But it's an exciting step towards a cleaner future. Good on the Government and the IDC for the investment!<br />
<a href="http://www.urbansprout.co.za/files/images/biodiversity2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="proteas in the cape floristic kingdom, one of the most biodiverse and threatened kingdoms" border="0" height="127" src="http://www.urbansprout.co.za/files/images/biodiversity2.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
And on the same day that I drove past the first enormous <a href="http://news.za.msn.com/economic/article.aspx?cp-documentid=153362721">wind turbine</a> being erected in Coega. Maybe we won't be the last country to come to the table, after all<br />
<iframe src="http://www.facebook.com/plugins/like.php?href=http%253A%252F%252Falstwocents.blogspot.com%252F2010%252F05%252Fsome-real-green-action-in-sa.html&layout=standard&show_faces=true&width=450&action=like&font=trebuchet%2Bms&colorscheme=light&height=80" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="border:none; overflow:hidden; width:450px; height:80px;" allowTransparency="true"></iframe>al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-71333787697272364112010-05-07T16:39:00.002+02:002010-05-19T19:18:53.064+02:00The future of Collective ExperienceI had a strange thought while debating the growth of closed social networks with a friend this morning: that the only things that offer true collective experience are mass media, and terrorism.<br />
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Everyone remembers where they were when September 11 happened. Everyone remembers what they were doing when the London Underground was bombed. Massive and terrible events like that shake us from our little bubbles that we move in. It's not that our lives are isolated - we are more connected than ever before - but our connections are still exclusive; they are determined by shared interests or passions or careers. It takes something like that to make us break out of our closed networks and feel empathy for a larger group.<br />
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The other thing that let us do so was mass media. You used to be pretty sure that when you went to school in the morning, your classmates would have watched the same show as you the night before. You could discuss the stupidity of the star-crossed teen lovers characters, or argue over who looked hotter in the beach scene. Tannies had heard the same joke on the radio as their gardener's nephew, and seen the same ad. Mass media was blunt and irrelevant a lot of the time, but the very fact of its inability to target accurately meant it forced people to have collective experiences that had the potential to bring them together. They had something in common to talk about.<br />
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As digital media becomes ever more fragmented and targeted, we are fed information and content and shows and advertising that is supremely relevant to us. It taps into our interests and idiosyncrasies. We never have to sit through shows we hate anymore, waiting for something better to come on. But we also never get challenged. We read things about matters we already think about. We chat with people whose opinions we admire or agree with. It's great that we can connect around shared interests with people from around the world. But does it mean we no longer share experiences with the people from a few blocks away?<br />
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Is personalised media ultimately divisive, widening the rift between a Constantia trustafarian and a Gugulethu mom? What collective experiences do we have left, other than terrorism or natural disaster, to bring us together and spark our human empathy? We think we're throwing off the shackles of geography and building global community on our own terms, but perhaps the most local connections are the most real and seeing only what interests us limits our ability to grow.<br />
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<iframe src="http://www.facebook.com/plugins/like.php?href=http%253A%252F%252Falstwocents.blogspot.com%252F&layout=standard&show_faces=true&width=450&action=like&font=tahoma&colorscheme=light&height=80" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="border:none; overflow:hidden; width:450px; height:80px;" allowTransparency="true"></iframe>al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-58304113570373129732010-04-22T23:24:00.003+02:002010-05-20T22:34:44.181+02:00The guy you met last weekI managed to make an instant enemy a couple of weeks ago. I happened to be looking at a <a href="http://www.fossil.com/en_US/shop/men/bags/messenger_bags/ew_messenger_jackson-mbg1154p.html?departmentCategoryId=30001&N=0&Ns=p_msc2|0||p_weight|0&rec=3&pn=c&imagePath=MBG1154201">beautiful leather Fossil laptop bag</a>; a bag I could never afford but couldn't help trying on. My friend walked past with a friend of his. I gushed about how much I loved the bag. His friend decided I was a pretentious knob who spends his life buying R2000 bags and condescending to everyone who doesn't own one.<br />
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Admittedly, I wouldn't normally bother myself with someone who makes judgements so quickly, but because that particular summary of my personality jars so startlingly with the kind of person I think I am, it got me thinking about the randomness of first impressions. The timing of when you meet someone really does determine what they think of you. If I were weeping that day, or eating at <a href="http://www.spur.co.za/">Spur</a>, I would have seemed like an entirely different person.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS2hd4qBppj8zPy9R1U1kVgZzcvs-3V2nnvO5j_vM86KSv6lbTH9F1G-dPylLDAKLNLIWJ9zWbZn_72UQYPahmn_k22bO1duR-bi38TSQrsuQMeNpC95gKuKzGfodBwN8PWA5Re8Fv0X_k/s1600/sb10066177f-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS2hd4qBppj8zPy9R1U1kVgZzcvs-3V2nnvO5j_vM86KSv6lbTH9F1G-dPylLDAKLNLIWJ9zWbZn_72UQYPahmn_k22bO1duR-bi38TSQrsuQMeNpC95gKuKzGfodBwN8PWA5Re8Fv0X_k/s200/sb10066177f-001.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>But it's much more than impressions. All of the perceptions we have about ourselves and each other and things are time-specific. I feel a particular way about lawyers now, for example, that I did not a few years ago. I have opinions and preferences that are new. I relate to my friends as the people they are in this particular lifestage, in their particular circumstances. I identify myself as 26, and a brand strategist, and a Capetonian. But not one of those identities is permanent, and not one of them was true two years ago. We have good days, and funny days and days when we're too tired to make conversation. We are generous and stingy, young and old, idealistic and jaded. We miss great loves because we were perfect for each other at the wrong time, or in sequence.<br />
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The more I think about it, the more I think we are are just balls of constant change blaring through life. So the trick is to never take anything personally, because the conditions that form people's perceptions of you right now are transient, and relatively random. Timing isn't just the key to great jokes, great loves and great brands.<br />
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All there is, really, is timing.<br />
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<iframe src="http://www.facebook.com/plugins/like.php?href=http%253A%252F%252Falstwocents.blogspot.com%252F2010%252F04%252Fguy-you-met-last-week.html&layout=standard&show_faces=true&width=450&action=like&font=trebuchet%2Bms&colorscheme=light&height=80" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="border:none; overflow:hidden; width:450px; height:80px;" allowTransparency="true"></iframe>al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-50947740277597400942010-04-09T18:45:00.002+02:002010-05-19T19:20:51.185+02:00At what point does one panic?<div class="MsoNormal" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Signs of the times" height="200" src="http://photos.mg.co.za/original/0.67851800%201270811522.jpg" width="175" /></div><div class="MsoNormal">I have a propensity to panic. I have been known to force doctors to run expensive blood tests on me for my self-diagnosed mortal tragedies that turned out to be nothing more than pulled muscles. I have to drug myself so heavily when I fly than I cannot speak. And I’ve gotten off the tube many times long before my station because I thought it was about to be bombed by those who were selfish enough to wear puffy jackets in summer.<br />
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But one thing I have never panicked about is “where the country is going”, to use the term of so many opinionated expats (and would-be expats). It’s always seemed like a bizarre and tedious thing to discuss when the evidence has always pointed to us growing wealthier, more stable, more democratic and safer. It’s the kind of thing you listen to your friends’ parents go on about and politely wait for them to finish before changing the subject: it’s lazy, slightly bigoted and irrelevant. If you want to talk politics, talk about real issues, like<a href="http://www.bhfglobal.com/national-health-insurance-%E2%80%93-finding-model-suit-south-africa"> health reform</a> or why the World Bank approved <a href="http://www.mg.co.za/article/2010-04-09-world-bank-approves-eskom-loan">Eskom’s filthy coal-loan</a>. Don’t come out with archaic knee-jerk statements like “we’re going the way of Zimbabwe” because we quite obviously are not.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But this <a href="http://www.timeslive.co.za/local/article393944.ece/Malema-loses-it">Malema</a> thing has made me uneasy. For the first time in my life, I’m a bit anxious about the state of the nation. Is there in fact an underground movement swelling, to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">kill the boers</i>? My Afrikaans colleagues were certainly not too happy about their relatives who live on farms when we chatted about this today. I remember reading about the Rwandan genocide at university and thinking, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">how the hell could these people not see it coming? The incitements to violence are so obvious in the media</i>. But they just thought it wasn’t real. </div><div class="MsoNormal">And how do we know whether what we see in the media is worthy of panic or not? Is this a tide sweeping the country, or a lunatic fringe? And does all the publicity Malema receives in the media, though it’s negative, not just give him more power? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It makes me sad that organisations like the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Afrikaner_Weerstandsbeweging">AWB</a> even exist. And it makes me sad to hear the angry tirades of the ANCYL. I think of all the great leaders who built this country, from Nelson Mandela to Desmond Tutu and all the artists and fashion designers and musicians who brought us integrated normality. But am I living in a bubble, in the dream they created? Whose reality has critical mass, I guess, is the real question? And is it time to panic?</div><br />
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<iframe src="http://www.facebook.com/plugins/like.php?href=http%253A%252F%252Falstwocents.blogspot.com%252F&layout=standard&show_faces=true&width=450&action=like&font=tahoma&colorscheme=light&height=80" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="border:none; overflow:hidden; width:450px; height:80px;" allowTransparency="true"></iframe>al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-13557718678938531892010-04-02T18:46:00.001+02:002010-05-19T19:21:15.326+02:00Happiness requires no adsl lineSeth recently <a href="http://sethgodin.typepad.com/seths_blog/2010/03/driveby-culture-and-the-endless-search-for-wow.html">wrote a piece</a> pointing out that most digital natives are not particularly valuable to advertisers because they don’t pay any real attention. Everyone loves measuring trackbacks and impressions, but just because you can measure these things doesn’t mean you should, because the world today has spawned what he calls a glance-and-click culture. This culture probably began with TV channel-surfing and extends all the way to hopping between six parties in a night out and <a href="http://chatroulette.com/">chatroulette</a>’s amusingly callous ‘nexting’ of people. We think we are cramming more valuable, interesting and entertaining content into our lives but all we are doing is devoting less time to any one thing. The speed of internet connectivity cannot change the amount of hours in a day and so something has to give. So far it’s been our attention spans, patience, focus and concentration.<br />
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And I don’t decry this from a marketing point of view. I don’t think it’s a bad thing that the pressure is on for marketers to be quick and add value. It’s actually exciting that it’s harder to get – and hold – people’s attention, because it ups the game and means we have to work harder to deliver only what is relevant, only when it is relevant – and to invest in people as the real communication channel. <br />
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But I really don’t think this constant distraction is going to do us any favours as a species, or as individuals. Glance-and-click may be the only way to feel you’re getting a taste of the flood of content available, but nothing of true value is experienced in ten seconds. I've noticed I now skip tracks on my ipod before they’re even finished because I’m bored and want to move on, and I constantly get impatient the moment someone answers my call because the conversation is taking up too much of my time. I used to meditate enough to remember that true peace and contentment come from sustained and intense concentration on one thing. Your breath. Or a sound. Focusing all of your attention on what you are doing right now enables you to live in the present, and that has profoundly transformative abilities. It’s no coincidence that artists lock themselves away, or that Jesus disappeared into the desert for so many years; everything, from works of artistic genius to spiritual contentment, comes from focus and attention. <br />
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So I was very amused to read of a <a href="http://macfreedom.com/">new app</a> that enables people to disconnect by disabling internet connectivity for a predefined amount of time (and its password protected for the junkies who crack). Avoiding distraction requires serious discipline because distraction is easier than just being. And now that even our most remote corners have been connected up (you get 3G in the Transkei!), there’s nowhere to hide. You’ve gotta make the decision yourself and can’t rely on geography to liberate you.<br />
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So I'm going to bite the bullet and close TweetDeck, shut down my mail, turn off my blackberry and try to smell, feel, hear and see where I really am right now. Hell, for this long weekend, I even plan on forcing myself to listen to some classical music; music that takes ten minutes, not ten seconds, to get to the point. I hope I can find the patience to be content.<br />
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<iframe src="http://www.facebook.com/plugins/like.php?href=http%253A%252F%252Falstwocents.blogspot.com%252F&layout=standard&show_faces=true&width=450&action=like&font=tahoma&colorscheme=light&height=80" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="border:none; overflow:hidden; width:450px; height:80px;" allowTransparency="true"></iframe>al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-91341154099723113812010-01-13T19:39:00.001+02:002010-01-13T19:42:29.665+02:00The Creativity Hub<a href="http://www.designindaba.com/superstars/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ6hAizB0GFfP5lB6tum2EQjQogKE_zfCuDJBoZd6e8dCdlqlLlG3p8jzYcR3V31lT1XRCOxYwyzoJI5NvIjx5dp_toNdDQj02zydL9jueF6kPwIT_Z3fzsiGoTlGsblkkIAm2ejeSEwhe/s200/135_animation.png" /></a>So if we assume for a minute that the world isn’t in fact ending in December 2012, then there are some pretty exciting plans afoot for our beloved city. Word on the street is that everybody’s favourite premier, Helen Zille, has Cape Town earmarked to become a <a href="http://www.creativecapetown.net/creative-cape-town-clusters/">creative capital of the world.</a> I think that’s a fantastic strategy! For a start, it's already a city that's teeming with <a href="http://www.onesmallseed.net/">creative buzz</a>. And creativity and innovation are what make regions such as <a href="http://nowandnext.com/?action=sector/view&issueId=25&sectorId=2/why_the_future_of_California_is_the_future_of_the_planet">California so successful</a>. And it means politics which is about solutions, not problems. Instead of the familiar nationalistic diatribes against colonialism and racism, we find ourselves with the prospect of an intelligent, dynamic and forward-thinking strategy; from whinging to action. And becoming a creative capital of the world is exciting for many reasons:<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-ZA">It means us residents will live in a city which fosters the arts, innovation and creativity. More gallery openings, more live gigs, better graffiti, quirkier designers, more innovative companies that are inspiring places to work and inject energy into the environment. Nothing stimulates growth better than creativity. </span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc6C_ZwfqOeanr0Odk06CAiyEaYpbZKc_Q9GwinDl_nScc5km16dLqjS1WZ59P-2wHB-mE_QKWvBp8T2xoMPwNi60oJ20gFJ6_zJGEsqucxHchXWgougM9wXv7DhZzhQuTkUOJlC-CSg9J/s1600-h/2010_stadium.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc6C_ZwfqOeanr0Odk06CAiyEaYpbZKc_Q9GwinDl_nScc5km16dLqjS1WZ59P-2wHB-mE_QKWvBp8T2xoMPwNi60oJ20gFJ6_zJGEsqucxHchXWgougM9wXv7DhZzhQuTkUOJlC-CSg9J/s200/2010_stadium.jpg" /></a><span lang="EN-ZA">It means the best part of globalisation – the spread of ideas and of interesting people. Opening our city to the world’s most remarkable personalities and ideas. And opening our city's residents to our own creative geniuses. A city always in Beta. It’ll open our eyes, widen our frame of reference, and dispel any parochialism that may linger.</span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-ZA">I love the idea of the 21<sup>st</sup> Century as a sort of neo-medieval network of global cities. A city is a much more tangible place to relate to than a country. We are citizens of cities, and our cities have a distinct character and history. Nations, on the other hand, are contrived and never did us any favours. The problem, of course, is that the nation still decides on immigration policy and so if Helen’s ingenious plan to win the war on talent and attract innovation to the mothercity is to work, it looks like a battle for regional autonomy also needs to take place. South Africa as a federation? Ha! We live in exciting times.</span><br />
</div>al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-38834307813737329712010-01-06T12:27:00.000+02:002010-01-06T12:27:10.969+02:00Fantasy to make you move<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-ZA">I finally saw <a href="http://www.avatarmovie.com/index.html">Avatar</a> last night, after weeks of it being sold out every night and then me disappearing for the vac into a province that is only now catching on to the newfangled concept of cinema.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was just as fantastic as I had been anticipating (and I’m a master at sleepless-child-at-christmas anticipation.) The visuals and imagery were gratuitously stunning – to the point where you are genuinely disappointed to have to rejoin the real world afterwards. I was also delighted to discover an <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0941777/bio">actor</a> worthy of a crush again! Let’s hope <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Hollywood</st1:place></st1:city> is coming out of its obsession with prepubescents. In return, I guess I’ll have to become open-minded enough to consider marrying an Aussie. But predictably, what really tickled me about Avatar was the allegory. So I engaged the one person I know puts up with my idealistic rants (my brother) in an email debate about the evils of the West. And he told me, after a few well-placed supremacist remarks to make my blood boil, that the problem with ‘green crusaders’ is their lack of a sense of humour.</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHM34zm75N0xPq9m7OrAfRj-vszflRfLfAbM_zQzA_CV8hemUcimvp07ZpWboRxr6yjHkIZzZtBYqmL3u0Ba8ifFsDmouV-8_SMS8pOcFM86VTywdLN-7jWJNvvT0hDghibE6TrBliWqcW/s1600-h/avatar_poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHM34zm75N0xPq9m7OrAfRj-vszflRfLfAbM_zQzA_CV8hemUcimvp07ZpWboRxr6yjHkIZzZtBYqmL3u0Ba8ifFsDmouV-8_SMS8pOcFM86VTywdLN-7jWJNvvT0hDghibE6TrBliWqcW/s320/avatar_poster.jpg" /></a><span lang="EN-ZA">Let’s disentangle the Avatar allegory a little. It was not only about the destruction of the environment and all the natural wisdom and biodiversity in it, but also about the subjugation of indigenous peoples by colonialists. The first was started by the West and is now pursued ferociously by everyone; the second was particular to the West but driven by the same economic forces that drive the first. And try as I might, I can’t really see what’s funny about either of them. But I do see his point. As he said, being overly earnest doesn’t get anyone’s attention. Entertain people or they will wander off. So the trick is to find the humour in an essentially grim subject. But entertainment is different to humour. The arts world has been entertaining us with stories of our stupidity for years. I remember reading <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Wump_World">The Wump World</a> as a little boy, and, more recently, movies like <a href="http://www.pixar.com/theater/trailers/walle/walle_tr1_320.html">Wall-E</a> and Avatar make similar pleas. Humour, on the other hand, lets people off the hook and lets them feel better about not doing anything. And I'm not convinced entertainment galvanises people into action either. So how exactly do you change people’s behaviour to fix the world? It’s a good thing I’m in marketing – maybe one day I’ll know the answer to that. </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-ZA">In the meantime, I guess I better throw some alien sex scenes into my book. </span><br />
</div>al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3770018981856711206.post-31997308471399119022010-01-05T15:34:00.004+02:002010-01-05T17:39:44.232+02:00Happy New Year!So 2010 is upon us, and it feels pretty good. I’m hoping that the rule with New Years Eve parties is similar to that expounded on Sex and the City about weddings; that the more disastrous the wedding, the better the marriage. Because my New Years Eve was spent surrounded by food I’m allergic to, missing the party I was intending to go to, and paying R250 for a terrible cover band in a nondescript venue in a town in which I knew almost no people. It culminated in my passing out on the pavement at 2am like a derelict homeless person or teenage Essex girl and having to be rescued by my father - something that has never happened in all my 25 and three quarter years. But the defeat, symbolic as it was of my emotional state towards the end of last year, was oddly cathartic. Somehow in that broken mess I found my resolve, my backbone and my optimism. So instead of throwing my voice in with those who actually felt The Recession and shouting good riddance to 2009, I’m looking forward to 2010 with an unfamiliar and welcome lightness of being. If the Mayans are right, we’ve got less than three years to work with, and I’m not going to lose another moment. The non-believer in New Year’s resolutions finds himself plotting everything from running the Two Oceans to learning violin, falling in love, decorating the hell out of my new flat, and finishing my book. This is going to be the year, people. Yee-fucking-ha! as the cowboys get to say.al mackayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11191352311549129022noreply@blogger.com0