Impressed

"I'm impressed."

With snark being our default reaction to everything, perhaps we don't say it often enough.

The verb impress, meaning "to have a strong effect on the mind," entered English in the 14th century.

Its root was the Latin impressus, meaning "stamped," "indented," or "imprinted."

A marvelous event impressed you, stamping its mark on your mind.

A second, less joyous meaning of the verb arose two centuries later.

During wars in the 16th century, when the king needed to fill the ranks of the Royal Navy, he would press seafarers—usually sailors with the merchant fleet—into naval service. 

The king in fact claimed the permanent right to impress sailors any time he chose.

To do so, he would dispatch "press gangs" to roam the coastal towns. The press gangs were little more than bands of brutal thugs, led by ruthless naval officers. Often they'd snatch any man they spotted—regardless of seafaring experience.

To be "impressed"—a fearsome event—meant to be "kidnapped into the service."

The practice of impressing men into the Royal Navy lasted well into the 19th century, when crown service was made voluntary.

The Future of Face-to-Face is Now

A lackluster CES earlier this month prompted Fortune to question the appeal of live trade shows.

CES' organizer "will unquestionably hail it as a success and tout the benefits of face-to-face interaction despite the pandemic," Fortune observed. "And, in many ways, it’s hard to argue against that."

The sparsely populated event, however, underscored the fact that exhibitors can no longer be expected to spend tens of thousands—if not millions—of dollars merely to meet a handful of buyers; and that attendees can no longer be expected to hop cross-continental flights, merely to meet a few suppliers.

"While the sponsors of these events are eager to bring them back, the attendees are a lot less certain," Fortune said. Given the hesitancy, "it’s valid to ask if they're worth it."

My take is that, with the advent of the virtual meeting, live events' future hangs in the balance.

They may not be worth all the fuss and bother.

To keep live events worthwhile—and better than their virtual cousins—organizers must find new ways to assure not only participants' safety, but their ROI. 

The latter is something organizers haven't had to do—and something they may not be able to do.

For the harsh truth is, while virtual events are far from great, they're good enough. 

They allow buyers and sellers to connect, while eliminating almost all of the downside risks inherent in live events.

And in a risk-averse world, that says a lot.

Live events may be history, unless organizers find ways to reduce participants' risks.

Not one day, but now.

Above: Conference at Night by Edward Hopper.

The Supermoms Assemble

O Columbia! the gem of the ocean,

The home of the brave and the free,

The shrine of each patriot's devotion,
A world offers homage to thee.

Thy mandates make heroes assemble,
When Liberty's form stands in view.

Thy banners make tyranny tremble,
When borne by the red, white, and blue.

— Thomas á Becket

Across the nation, a new American hero is emerging: the Supermom.

Uninformed and dogmatic, she is as great a threat to democracy as any Proud Boy.

Perhaps greater.

She is, after all, your mom.

The extreme right is enlisting Supermoms to oversee elections and run for local offices. 

Supermoms have their own PAC, Moms for Liberty, too; and have been singled out by Trump operatives for cultivation.

The Supermoms' goal is to turn back the clock 180 eighty years to the time "Columbia the Gem of the Ocean" was penned.

Back then, God was in his heaven and all was right with the world. 

Columbia was indeed the gem of the ocean, which meant you needn't worry about porn or pervs or gang violence or uppity Blacks, Jews, Latinos, Asians, Muslims, Queers, and Feminists.

Supermoms claim they are "fighting for the survival of America" by galvanizing parents to defend their rights against tyrants.

Of course, the tyrants in their sights are all Democrats—most especially those of color.

In the past few months, Supermoms in Arizona, Colorado, New Hampshire and Pennsylvania have organized state-wide door-knocking campaigns to uncover phantom voters; launched forensic audits of the 2020 election results; and lobbied state lawmakers to scrap all voting machines, so they can count the votes in future elections. 

And just this week, Supermoms on a Tennessee school board banned Maus because it's "vulgar," while Supermoms on school boards in Nebraska, Texas, Utah, Virginia, and Wyoming banned hundreds of books authored by Blacks.

In more ways than one, fiery Supermoms compose America's 21st century Luftschutz.

The Luftschutz was an all-volunteer civil defense league founded by Hermann Göring in 1933. At its peak, more than 22 million Germans belonged, many of them women.

Organized by local air raid wardens, the Luftschutz trained its members to place sandbags, fight fires, clear rubble, and respond with first aid in the event of aerial bombings and gas attacks. The wardens claimed the Luftschutz's purpose was Selbschutz (self- protection).

The darker purpose of the Luftschutz, however, was to recruit average German citizens into the Nazi party, which was a minority party in 1933. Göring understood that if you just let moms wear cool hats and attend gatherings, you could count on their silence when the time came for the Final Solution.  

Supermoms may consider themselves simply "concerned" soccer moms protecting their precious children, but they're in the grip of fascists.

That makes them wholly to be feared.

Above: Frau im Luftschutz! Nazi poster by Ludwig Hohlwein. 1936.

Values: Masturbatory Marketing

 Greed is not a financial issue. It's a heart issue.

— Andy Stanley

Spotify's unconscionable decision to keep Joe Rogan and drop Neil Young proves what I've long thought about tech corporations' self-professed "values."

They're pure, unadulterated snake oil.

Spotify's video on values includes a Latino marketing manager claiming "we do not approve any sort of campaign that we don't believe in."

How's that for masturbatory marketing?

Obviously, her statement is bullshit—or, worse, Spotify believes in Joe Rogan's relentless antivaxxer messaging.

Let's stop the "values" marketing malarkey and get back to basics. It may play to Millennials, but it's bullshit.

The hard truth is: Spotify believes in one thing and one thing only.

Profit.

Pure and simple.

HAT TIP: Neil Young deserves everyone's thanks for spotlighting Spotify's horrendous hypocrisy. Thank you, Mr. Young.

POSTSCRIPT, JANUARY 29: Since Neil Young's ultimatum to Spotify, his greatest hits album has rocketed into the Top 5 on Apple Music, and Spotify has lost $4 billion in market value."

POSTSCRIPT, FEBRUARY 3: Neil Young has been joined in his boycott of Spotify by Crosby, Stills and Nash.

POSTSCRIPT, FEBRUARY 7: Spotify's CEO confirmed the company won't "silence Joe," even though he spouts the N-word as well as disinformation.

Cracked

The older I get, the more I realize how fallible I am.

— Roxane Gay

What failing do flat-earthers, antivaxxers and "big lie" believers share in common?

They all lack what psychologists call intellectual humility, the ability to admit you're fallible.

Just this week, I have heard a flat-earther insist Earth couldn't be round, else we'd see it curve when we climbed a hill; an antivaxxer insist Covid-19 can't be defeated, because it's invisible; and a "big lie" believer insist big data indisputably prove Trump won.

Duh.

While it's tempting to dismiss these kooks as childish, uniformed, or just stupid, psychologists would have us look deeper.

People who lack intellectual humility, psychologists have discovered through seven decades of research, usually also have a screw or two loose.

People who lack intellectual humility may also lack the abilities to evaluate evidence, enjoy learning, tolerate ambiguity, brook disagreement, appreciate expertise, or recognize the boundaries between reality and their egos.

In other words, they're cracked.

People with intellectual humility—the majority of us—realize they're fallible, according to the research. 

They spend more time contemplating their beliefs, questioning their assumptions, and seeking out proof than those who lack intellectual humility.

People with intellectual humility in general are curious, inquisitive, tolerant, empathetic, forgiving, and cerebral.

People who lack intellectual humility, on the other hand, are self-absorbed, judgmental, dogmatic, over-confident, arrogant, combative, and carnal.

They're also—as we well know—less able to distinguish truth from hoax.

Fortunately, although lack of intellectual humility is partly inherited, psychologists say there's hope for sufferers through cognitive behavioral therapy, which seeks to undo the bad influence of parents and teachers.

But can the rest of us wait for that?

And what about the influence of world events on those who lack intellectual humility?

Sadly, psychologists have discovered that lack of intellectual humility worsens in the face of economic downturns, pandemics, wars, terrorist threats, and mass migrations.

Fasten your seatbelts, ladies and gentlemen.

More and more crackpots are heading your way!