This was published in the Cape Times as “Time to make one class fit everyone on Metrorail and get rid of snobbery between coaches”, 5 December 2011. (Apologies to non-South Africans for local content. Will return to more universal matters in the new year. Promise!)
I’m glad I can use the train for my daily traveling. I enjoy not being in a car and all the hassles that go with that. I enjoy feeling so greenly virtuous.
I’ve almost always travelled third class on the train – sorry, I mean Metro class. It feels safer. In fact, the only time I’ve felt really nervous I was alone in a first class (oops, Metro Plus) carriage with one very edgy man. There are always more people in Metro class, more women, more mothers with children. It’s also half the price and – as I heard one man joke, watching people run up the platform – we all get to the station at the same time.
(This is the original of an opinion piece published as “Identity does not depend on race” in the Cape Times on 11 October 2011)
Who are we? is the question posed in a timely series presented by the Cape Times and the Institute for Justice and Reconciliation. Really, it’s incredible. If “I am because we are”, and we are not the “we” we thought we were – then who am I? If “a person is a person through other people”, and we’re not getting through to each other – then what am I?
Rather than reach immediately for an answer to this terribly urgent question, perhaps we should slow down enough to reconsider it. Or, as Njabulo Ndebele beautifully suggested recently, to “wake up and re-dream” ourselves. It does stir us up. Whoever and whatever else we may be, we are the ones in question. We are called to account for ourselves, as if everything depends on this, our moment in history. It’s the new Senzenina. It’s terrifying and exhilarating.
The Cape Times (Cape Town)published an edited version of this as “If we are cynical about our politicians, we will get the leaders we deserve”, 1 November 2010
Against the horizon of the media tribunal disputes here, I have been thinking about how we chatterers create the conditions for the political leadership we get, and wondering if we couldn’t do it better.
Politicians must be the last group of people that can be maligned in polite society with impunity, or even relish. A bunch of crooks, fat cats at the trough, only out for themselves, inept, corrupt. Right? You hear it on the train, in the coffee shop, at the golf course. You read it in the papers. It’s not uncommon. But it’s a big problem.
Three recent reviews published in the Cape Times (Cape Town, South Africa)
1. Re-imagining the Social in South Africa: Critique, Theory and Post-apartheid Society (Jacklin and Vale, eds) 2. Nurtureshock: Why everything we think about raising our children is wrong (Bronson & Merryman) 3. Africa: The Politics of Suffering and Smiling (Chabal)
Re-imagining the Social in South Africa: Critique, Theory and Post-apartheid Society Heather Jacklin and Peter Vale (editors) University of KwaZulu-Natal Press Reviewed by Helen Douglas (Cape Times, 1 April 2010)
Ten chapters, eleven academics, all theorising “the social” and the state of “social theory” in South Africa. The immediate question for a non-academic (but sociable) reader trying to make sense of our current muddle: is there something helpful here? Well yes, there is.
Nurtureshock: Why everything we think about raising our children is wrong Po Bronson & Ashley Merryman Ebury Press
Reviewed by Helen Douglas (Cape Times, 12 February 2010)
It’s a close call to say whether Nurtureshock manages to be more informative than it is annoying. The first irritant has to be the subtitle. To whom is this meant to appeal? Insecure parents who are ready to think the worst of themselves? Shame on you!
Once safely past the cover, the book’s premise is straightforward. Parents naturally want to nurture and protect their children, but much of their thinking is “polluted by a hodgepodge of wishful thinking, moralistic biases, contagious fads, personal history and old (disproven) psychology”. Bronson and Merryman, regular contributors to New York Magazine, want to set us straight with this survey of the latest research from the “fascinating new science of children”.
Africa: The Politics of Suffering and Smiling Patrick Chabal UKZN Press and Zed Books Reviewed by Helen Douglas (Cape Times, 8 January 2010)
As a Canadian immigrant to South Africa, I have struggled mightily to understand post-colonial African politics. I have a feeling I’m not alone. (Colonial politics may have been horrific, but at least it made sense.)
Since independence, we have witnessed an array of socio-political behaviour that evades any such coherence, making it difficult to imagine a way to greater peace and stability in the continent. Political theory imported from the global North doesn’t get us there, demonstrating that its explanatory power does not have universal reach. But Africanist theories, rooted in local understandings of Africa’s difference, have also fallen short – often by trying (and failing) to posit an original and essential Africanness.
From the Cape Times, 1 December 2009, in their series on “The Next Economy”
No wonder they can’t fix it: it doesn’t exist
It’s another day in the global financial crisis and I’m looking at the front page of Business Report: “Worse still to come, says economist”. The article offers three expert opinions. One says that the global economy could face a second dip as a result of recent massive injections of liquidity. Another sees a threat in South Africa’s reliance on exports. The third is hopeful the current recovery will be sustained.
On SAfm’s Market Update, they speak confidently of corrections, profit taking, sideways adjustments and – my favourite – the dead cat bounce. Yesterday the analyst said that prices had fallen because “traders were nervous”. Why were they nervous? “No, it’s a herd thing,” he laughs. “They’ll sell first and make up a reason later.” He’s equally frank today why the market has rallied. He doesn’t know – but he’ll “take it”.
What do you do when someone says something to you that you don’t understand?
It happens all the time. The someone may be someone we know or a stranger. The event might be inconsequential or it might be important. It is always unsettling. The usual, easy choice is to let it go by, hoping that the miscommunication will either become clear or fade away in time. The safe choice is to dismiss the other as incomprehensible, or to interpret the misunderstanding away.