Tomser's Blog

I must admit that it has been difficult to concentrate on any topic other than Ukraine recently. Yet, I have nothing new to say about that evolving situation. Until the invasion and the sanctions play themselves out there is nothing I can add to the plethora of on-going coverage. Putin has made his gambit, and we must watch as it germinates (apologies for the mixed metaphor). 

In the meantime, an article came to my attention that sparked smoldering coals that have been simmering for some time (I am on a mixed metaphor roll). It was reported by the Council for Advancement and Support of Education that donations to U.S. Colleges and Universities totaled $46.73 billion last year. Twenty-eight percent of that amount went to just 20 schools. Harvard topped the list, bringing in $1.4B, and I am sure that you can guess the others.  

Not surprisingly, Harvard also tops the list of the largest endowments, with a slush fund in excess of $40B. Also not surprisingly, the schools with the top twenty endowments largely track the list of colleges receiving the most in donations. I think that you can see where I am going with this. 

Often these donations to well-endowed Universities are equivalent to the rich giving to the rich. Bill Gates giving his money to Warren Buffett. Alice Walton “donating” to Julia Koch. Elon Musk making a contribution to Jeff Bezos. The fact that the donee is an institution rather than an individual is immaterial. The scenario is the same. 

Of course, people can give their money to whomever they want. That’s none of my business. Plus, there is no doubt that these are fine schools, worthy of support. However, please don’t try and convince me that someone who makes a $25M gift to the University of Pennsylvania, with its $14B endowment (a mere pittance compared to Harvard, I know), is a philanthropist. They may be giving their money to a worthwhile institution, but it is not a needy one. 

With all of the donations that continue to pour in, I wonder what these schools are doing with their endowments. Penn just announced that the cost of attending will exceed $80k in the coming academic year. Financial aid will also increase, to $288M per year, but that will hardly put a dent in their coffers. There seems to be little, if any interest, in containing costs, but then why would you bother when you are sitting on that much cash? 

Penn also recently announced a scholarship program for low-income students attending Wharton Business School that is being funded by a $10M grant. The announcement went on and on about the importance of this program. While I laud the donor, and hope that the scholarships have the desired impact, I have to ask why, if the program was so vital, Penn wasn’t already providing such scholarships. Clearly, it was not due to lack of funds.  

What is especially galling is that these donations are tax deductible. That means it is not just rich that are supporting these institutions, but all of us as well. We are, whether we want to or not, subsidizing universities that are sitting on the GDP of a small nation, and using that endowment, if at all, to benefit a select few. How does that make sense?  

This is not to denigrate the important role these elite schools play in this country. They provide a standard of excellence that makes America a destination for collegiate education around the world. However, there are many, many other institutions that maintain that standard as well, and they are struggling to stay both competitive academically and affordable. 

Less well-endowed universities also often provide access to students that might never go to college otherwise. Most of these students do not have the grades, or resources, to go to a Harvard or Yale, but benefit greatly from the collegiate experience. Unfortunately, many are not able to complete their degree because of money issues, or leave college with significant debt. This is a tragedy on a personal and national level.      

We need to find a better system of funding our colleges that provides education to everyone who wants it. Perhaps we eliminate the tax deduction to universities that have an endowment over a certain level. Maybe we require that a university spend a certain amount of their endowment annually, much the way that a tax-exempt foundation must distribute a certain percentage of its holdings each year. Even if these colleges are “private”, we support them in myriad ways, so we should have the right to hold them accountable. 

As is clear, I don’t have answers. All I know is that our lopsided collegiate system is not serving our country well. It is exasperating imbalances that exist throughout society. We must find way to balance those scales so that higher education is available to everyone that wants it.  

There was a brief instance when I thought that I might like to teach history. Within that moment of insanity, I imagined beginning a history class by putting on the board two competing quotes. George Santayana’s “Those who cannot remember the past are doomed to repeat it” (often misquoted as “Those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it”), and Sting’s “History will teach us nothing”.  

The realization that I would undoubtedly, as I turned around after writing this, receive blank stares rather than engaged discussion, led me to quickly abandon this fantasy. Still, within my own mind I continue to ponder these differing views of days gone by. This has only intensified as I have followed the debate over the Ukrainian crisis, and the inevitable cry of “Remember Munich” that it has elicited from pundits. It is a cry we hear again and again anytime there is an international crisis.  

To briefly, and probably unnecessarily, recap, in 1938 Adolph Hitler, as the leader of Germany, threatened to invade Czechoslovakia so as to annex an area called the Sudetenland, which had a majority of ethnic Germans. In response, a meeting of state leaders was convened in Munich in an attempt to defuse the crisis. In the end, the French and British leaders forced the President of Czechoslovakia to accept a “compromise” that ceded the Sudetenland to Germany. The Czech army withdrew from the territory shortly thereafter, and the Germans marched in. While Hitler had proclaimed that this was the extent of his territorial ambitions in the area, he invaded and conquered the rest of Czechoslovakia less than a year later. 

Ever since WWII began, the Munich Accord has been held up as emblematic of the dangers of appeasement. Even now, it is cited as a reason that we must confront Putin as he begins his attempted annexation of the Ukraine. It is also a prime example of why both Santayana and Sting may be correct. Munich is a warning about the dangers of caving to dictators, but it was also a unique situation that is not being replicated in the Ukraine, despite the fact that Putin seems to be borrowing from the Hitler playbook. 

In 1938 there were serious questions as to whether Hitler could have taken back the Sudetenland had there been a unified resistance. The Czech army was formidable and well positioned. The German army was not yet the weapon it became within the next year and a half. Germany might well have prevailed against the Czechs alone, but not without significant losses. It is much more questionable whether they would have prevailed had the Brits and the French supported Czechoslovakia.  

The current situation is different. The army of the Russian Federation is fully developed and prepared. The Ukraine will put up stiff resistance, but it is likely to be swiftly overrun. More importantly, that is unlikely to change even if we provide military support.  

Plus, the stakes have changed. The weaponry today is totally different than it was in 1938. The potential for mass destruction is very real. Yes, Hitler could bomb cities, but he could not obliterate them. And that potential is not limited to the Ukraine, but includes virtually anywhere in the world. While I find it unlikely that Putin would go that far, I also did not think that he would brazenly claim the Ukraine. 

So, Sting is correct. History teaches nothing. Well, maybe, maybe not. The Czech situation does provide insight into dictators with delusions of grandeur, like Putin (and Hitler). When dictators make claims for territory it is often gradual. First the Sudetenland. Then the rest of Czechoslovakia. Then on to Poland. First the Crimea. Then on to the separatist provinces. Then the rest of the Ukraine. From there, who knows (the Baltic states?). 

The world’s reaction to Putin’s seizure of the Crimea in 2014 was tepid and short-lived. There were sanctions, but they were ineffective. Plus, Putin was soon welcomed back into the club of the world’s leaders as if nothing had happened. Is it any wonder that he assumed future annexations would meet a similarly purposeless response? 

We are not in a position to intervene militarily to stop the invasion of the Ukraine. That is not because of a lack of preparedness, or a lack of will. It is just the reality that such an escalation would have such profound effects that it cannot be countenanced. Unfortunately, from a military perspective, the Ukraine must stand or, more likely, fall on its own. 

Still the response must be swift, unified and unequivocal. This is where the importance of alliances becomes crucial. The United States and the rest of the world must speak with one voice in condemning this invasion, and ensuring that it has very real, long-lasting, economic consequences. Putin, and Russia, must become a pariah. 

The fly in that ointment is China. It was not coincidental that a major Russia/China summit was held weeks before Russia attacked the Ukraine. Putin knows that he cannot avoid European condemnation, so he wanted to make sure that response did not include China. Considering Chinese territorial ambitions, Putin probably had little trouble in convincing Xi Jinping to remain neutral, if not supportive.  

The Russian/Chinese pre-invasion détente sounds eerily similar to the Nazi/Soviet pact of 1939 that preceded the invasion of Poland (history repeating itself). The difference is that Chinese interests are not in the territory Putin seeks, as were Stalin’s with Hitler, but in a free hand, and reciprocal support from Russia, should China move aggressively against Taiwan or in the South China Sea (history teaches nothing). 

Regardless of whether you want to view this conflict through the eyes of Santayana or Sting, one other truism stands firm. Violence will breed violence. There will be repercussions and they will not be pretty, nor will they be predictable. It will be a major miracle if this is confined to the Ukraine. Press on the balloon in the middle, and it will likely bulge out elsewhere.       

*I understand that this may be outdated by the time I publish it, but that’s the way history crumbles. 

I despise going to the dentist. It is one of the few trials in life that gets my palms sweaty and heart beating uncontrollably. I know. I know. This is no big revelation. However, my current dentist has subjected me to mental torturers’ I cannot abide, and I feel that I must get it off my chest.

My abhorrence of the dental chair has led me to some bad choices. I have allowed long gaps between appointments, and that has only resulted in additional anguish. All of these gaps occurred when, for one reason or another, I didn’t have a regular dentist, and was loathe to sign up again to open wide. 

My first gap occurred when I moved to Philadelphia. It took me a number of years before I sucked it up and got back in the big chair. The dentist I found was also a professor at Penn Dental School. He took one look at me and said, son, you need the Cavitron. 

For those of you who have never been introduced to the Cavitron, consider yourself lucky. It is a primitive implement of torment designed to blast plaque away. Was the name Cavitron meant to be ironic, or maybe kid us into thinking that this will be fun? Either way, I curse the mad scientist who invented the Cavitron and the 6^th grader who named it.   

After multiple sessions with the Cavitron, the prof dentist pronounced himself satisfied. He then told me that he regretted not taking me to his students before the whole ordeal started, so they could get a clear before and after picture. You know, like the people in the diet commercials. Thanks a lot, doc!! 

This dentist stopped practicing to go into teaching full time, and I was once again set adrift. Years passed before I got up the courage and subjected myself to that sickening smell of formaldehyde and old socks that permeate every dentist’s office. The sentence for my neglect was, once again, the Cavitron. Let’s just say that it was not a touching reunion.  

I went to that dentist for many years until they made the fatal mistake of letting me walk out of their office without scheduling my next appointment. Seems like a little thing, but another multi-year gap ensued. Eventually, I bowed to the inevitable and, about six months ago, gave in to my destiny (kind of like Luke Skywalker). It meant, you guessed it, the Cavitron. 

I must have voiced my dismay at being subjected to the Cavitron, because at my next appointment, after multiple Cavitron sessions, the dental assistant started by saying, “I see by your chart that you don’t like the Cavitron”. I laughed so hard at the thought that this was now part of my permanent record, she must have considered calling security. Once I got control, I told her that what they really need to document is anyone who says they like the Cavitron. Those were the ones to look out for. I don’t think she was amused. 

Still, the Cavitron is not the sole torture I endured. As you all are aware, the décor in a dentist’s office is generally as sterile as the piped in muzak. My last dentist had a cartoonish picture with Philadelphia landmarks all crammed in, as if the city was only a square mile wide, but at least it was something to look at. (There’s the Acadamy of Music. What’s it doing next to Veterans Stadium?). 

My current dentist, however, has decided that the most appropriate item for patients to gaze upon while she does her dirty work is a motivational poster (pictured below). There must have been a sale on this eyesore because it adorns a number of the cells in her office. Maybe buy one, get two free, is the only way they could get rid of this visual carbuncle. 

There is, of course, nothing wrong with these cliched words of advice, but it strikes me that the dentist’s office is the last place where they should be imparted. “Believe in Magic”? If I believed in magic, I would be trying to conjure clean teeth and healthy gums rather than be sitting in the chair with cotton balls stuffed in my cheeks. “Do What you Love”? Well, that leaves this out. “Don’t Count the Minutes Count the Laughs”? No. When I am there, I am counting the minutes until I am done, hence my constant whine, “Aren’t you done drilling yet?”.  

But the worst bon mot of all is the last, “Make Every Moment Count”. Putting aside the impossibility of this questionable afflatus, a dentist is the last person who should be pushing this as a way of life. I know how important dental health is, but if I am going to make every moment count, the last place I am going to start is at the dentist’s office. In fact, seeing this makes me want to get up and start making a moment count far away from there, hardly the reaction she was hoping for, I’m sure. 

Anyway, thank you for indulging me in the somewhat Seinfeldian rant. It’s just that what I want out of my dentist is efficiency, and a certain concern for my low threshold of pain. I know that it is childish and immature, but I can’t help it. After all, I’m just following my dentist’s advice to “Be True to Who you Are”.    

By the time you read this another European war may have started. On the one hand, I cannot believe I just wrote that. On the other hand, there is an inevitability about this turn of events that is sobering. What is not, or should not, be surprising, is that this is happening in the Ukraine.

The Ukraine has long been known as the breadbasket of Europe. One estimate had the Ukraine producing up to 25% of the wheat for the Soviet Union. This has made the Ukraine a target for domination. It was an integral part of the pre-WWI Russian empire, a Soviet state between the wars, a key goal of Hitler when he invaded the USSR, one of the first countries to break from Soviet control, and, apparently, a prominent thorn in the side of the new Tsars of the Russian Federation. 

This impending war is just another depressing chapter in Ukrainian history. That area has been a warzone for hundreds of years. It may well have been the bloodiest place on earth in the 20^th Century, not exactly an honor you covet.  

In WWI the Ukraine was central to the fighting between Russia, Germany and the Austro-Hungarian empire. Many major battles were fought on this land, with significant losses on all sides, and, of course, among the local population. It was designated a self-determining area, presumably under German hegemony, under the 1918 treaty of Brest-Litovsk, which ended the war between the German Empire and the newly formed Bolshevik government but that didn’t last long.  

After the defeat of Germany, the incorporation of the Ukraine into the USSR was not a given. Soviet jurisdiction was violently contested by many Ukrainians and Poles. The Soviets eventually controlled the area, incorporating the Ukraine into the USSR, though the resistance was never forgotten. 

The period between the wars brought a different kind of nightmare. Stalin, intent to collectivize the farms of the USSR, imposed mass starvation and dislocation on the Ukraine in and around 1932. It is estimated that 3.9 million people died in what the Ukraine people call the Holodomor. In addition, hundreds of thousands were forcibly removed from the area and sent to other parts of the USSR. 

WWII was a hell on many fronts. The German invasion of the USSR went right through the Ukraine. Many Ukrainians, presumably out of hatred for the Soviets, sided with the Nazis. Others fought for the USSR and undertook guerilla warfare. Many fighters and civilians died as part of, or in response to, guerilla activity. More died when the Soviets drove the Nazi’s back through the Ukraine. After the USSR reestablished control, some of the guerilla units switched to fighting the Soviets, and were, again, ruthlessly suppressed. 

Even more horrific, the Ukraine was a major killing field in the Holocaust. It is estimated that as many as 1.6 million Jews were murdered in the Ukraine during WWII. Many of the worst Nazi death camps were on Ukrainian soil. Some Ukrainians were willing participants in this slaughter, acting as concentration camp guards, joining police units and providing other support.  

Now this blood-soaked ground is being threatened again. It is hard to attribute any cause to this war other than pure, unadulterated avarice. The Ukraine poses no military threat to Russia. There is no credible scenario where it becomes a staging ground for a western invasion. Ukrainians are Slavic, like Russians, so there is no is no ethnic predicate, flimsy as that would be. This is nothing but a naked, “I want it, so I am going to take it”, land grab. 

It is extremely disheartening that we are seeing this kind of raw bellicosity as we approach the 70^th anniversary of the end of WWII. Putin is even borrowing from the Hitler playbook, blaming others for goading him into war. His justifications are just as pathetic. It is hard to believe that he can voice them with a straight face, though that seems to be a skill most dictators possess. 

It is unclear what Putin plans to do with the Ukraine once he conquers it. Does he really think that this country can be folded back into the Russian Federation? Is he already designing a massive crackdown that will eliminate potential dissidents? Is he yearning for his old KGB days, and thinking that he will reimpose Soviet style controls?   

Three things are for sure. First, whatever Putin is thinking, it will not go as planned. There will be resistance he did not anticipate. There will be destruction he hopes to avoid. There will be consequences that he cannot account for. 

Secondly, no matter how the initial surge proceeds, violence will breed violence. It may take the form of guerilla warfare. It may be terrorism aimed at military and non-military targets. It may be initially confined to the Ukraine, but it will spill over into other parts of Russia and the surrounding countries. It’s like a half-inflated balloon. Push on it in one spot, and it will bulge out in another.  

Finally, we will all be forced witnesses to this horror. Maybe the US can impose sanctions, but we cannot stop the bloodshed, just like we could not stop it in Syria or Afghanistan. We will be confronted with our impotence to effectively respond to this kind of abomination, and with the seeming never ending ability of mankind to inflict savagery. It is so dispiriting and yet so predictable.  

*First line of Ukranian National Anthem, according to Lyricsondemand 

After dissing The Little Mermaid for subverting the legal system, Malcolm Gladwell moves on to weightier, and more substantial, issues in his three-part Revisionist History podcast. He is not the first to point out the lost potential of this movie. While Disney relied on the Hans Christian Anderson story for its inspiration, it did not seem to understand the story’s relevance in today’s world. 

The phenomenon of girls “losing their voice” has been well-documented. Researchers have noted that even the most audacious girls often become more cautious about speaking out and less likely to assert themselves as they grow older. Many reasons for this tendency have been noted, such as societal pressure to conform. I would like to think that we, as a society, recognizing this inclination, have started to address it, but I’m not sure. 

Ariel is the epitome of this problem. She goes from being a curious, independent and bold girl, to a muted supplicant for the attention of Prince Eric. Even worse, she is reduced to an observer’s role in fighting through this condition. It is ultimately her animal friends and Eric who rescue her from Ursula, and give her back her voice.                 

While Gladwell addresses these issues, he does so in an odd way. He interviews Angus Fletcher, a professor of “Story Science” at Ohio State. Fletcher says that there are two kinds of fairy tales. Those where good luck happens to those that are fools, usually resulting in a twist ending, and those where good things happen to good people and bad people are ultimately punished.  

Fletcher claims that he measured the emotional reactions of children to fairy tales through a secret methodology (I kid you not), and, lo and behold, children prefer those tales where life can go from good to bad, or vice versa, on a whim, and ultimate results are unrelated to the worth of the protagonist. He concludes that children struggle with poetic justice, because they realize that is not the way life works. 

Gladwell buys this hook, line and sinker. He ignores the underlying cynicism of Fletcher’s conclusions, and, without asking any further questions about the top-secret experiments, concludes that kids prefer fairy tales with random luck to those that offer poetic justice. This is one of Gladwell’s weaknesses. He tends to find experts who agree with his views, and then embraces them without much critical analysis. Then again, don’t we all.   

Contrary to Fletcher’s conclusions, I think that Disney films are so successful because they give kids what they want. I am just a parent and not a researcher with a top-secret formula, but it seems to me that children want a hero they can root for. They want that hero to battle long odds. And they want that hero to overcome those odds, and vanquish evil. They want poetic justice. 

We lose a lot if we don’t cater to kids’ desire for poetic justice. The world will come at them quickly enough. They will realize that good does not always triumph and that evil sometimes prevails. But a grounding in the notion that good can win is essential for both children and adults. Reality is harsh, but acceptance of a fatalism as the only reality leads to cynicism and indifference, and we have enough of that as it is. 

Gladwell then moves on to rewrite the ending to The Little Mermaid. He engages Brit Marling, a screenwriter, to reimagine how Ariel could be given more purchase in her fate. Not surprisingly, despite giving lip service to Fletcher’s theory, Gladwell is smart enough to know that you don’t mess with success, and so he and Marling retain Ariel’s essential goodness. Where they go from there is questionable.  

As is to be expected, in Marling’s reworking of the movie’s ending it is Ariel herself who stops the wedding of Eric and Ursula. However, she does not do so by biting Ursula in the bottom, or ramming her with a ship, but by embracing her and refusing to let go. Basically, she acknowledges Ursula’s pain, standing with her as Triton threatens to attack, until Triton stands down and Ursula is transformed into a paragon of virtuousness.   

In a postscript ending, Ursula marries Triton, who, it turns out, was ultimately responsible for her badness in the first place. Eric, who has become a superfluous surfer dude, marries another man, and introduces vegetarianism into his kingdom. Ariel, no longer interested in settling down, goes back to her wandering, curious ways. And all live happily ever after.  

While all this is very nice, it has much more to do with what these particular adults would like than what kids want. I think it is telling that Gladwell recruits 58-year-old Jodi Foster, someone his own age, to voice Ariel. It reflects his seeming belief that the film should be geared to him, and his contemporaries, rather than the children who are the true target audience.  

The final battle with Ursula in the Disney movie is both scary and exciting. It packed quite a wallop on the big screen. Kids crave that rush of adrenaline as the heroine confronts her nemesis, as well as the release when she prevails. While stripping the movie of that collision may be satisfying to some adults, most children will feel robbed. 

It is difficult for us adults to get into the minds of children. However, if we are going to talk about kids’ entertainment we need to at least try. Molding movies and books to our own desires without a thought as to whether the kids will find it compelling is a fool’s errand and does not solve issues that might exist in what kids consume. They would just turn away. 

There is no doubt that Ariel should have been more proactive in her own redemption. Disney recognized this as well, and its female protagonists in later movies have become more self-reliant. But we should not strip the films of their essential conflicts in reaching that goal. Kids just won’t have it.  

The sixth season of Revisionist History has landed, and Malcolm Gladwell is back, striving to reveal the overlooked and the misunderstood. Some of you may recall my embrace of Gladwell when I first started this blog, with me going so far as saying that I wanted to be Gladwell (just a bit of hyperbole). But I must say, the gloss is wearing thin.      

Season six starts with a bizarre episode on self-driven cars. Rather than address the massive logistical and technological issues outstanding, Gladwell “waves a magic wand” to get us to the point where there are only self-driven cars on the road, as if that is all it will take for this transition. He then suggests that if all cars were self-driven there would be gridlock, because people would feel free to step in front of these cars, knowing that sensors would force them to stop.  It strikes me that if we can get to a world of only self-driven cars, we can solve the pedestrian issue, but what do I know?  

Then there were a couple of decent, though hardly groundbreaking, episodes on the ridiculous U.S News and World Report college rankings (Springfield College, voted number one among yellow skinned cartoon characters). Followed by a somewhat interesting profile of an unrepentant American Communist subject to the blacklist in the 50’s. So far, so blah. 

At that point, Gladwell heads off the rails, taking three episodes to attack Disney’s The Little Mermaid. Yes, The Little Mermaid. He is not satisfied to simply point out problematic aspects of the film, and they do exist, but labels the film as a bloated pinata (whatever that means) that’s not fit for children. Really? The Little Mermaid? 

Oddly, the first attack on the film is a legal one. Gladwell spoke with Laura Beth Nielson, a law professor and sociologist, who wrote a piece called “Law and Morality in Disney Films”. I must admit that this sounds more interesting than most of the law review articles I have slogged through. However, she seems to have trouble distinguishing between what adults may grasp, and what kids absorb. 

Nielson’s big complaint with The Little Mermaid is that Ariel signs a contract with the sea witch Ursula which dictates that Ariel must give Ursula her voice (which is the part of Ariel a human fell in love with) and, in exchange, Ursula will make Ariel human for three days. Ariel stays human forever if she can get the human to kiss her by the end of the third day. If not, she becomes Ursula’s slave.  

According to Neilson, it is outrageous for a children’s movie to depict the law in this way. This contract is immoral, she rants. It would be totally unenforceable. It teaches kids that the law is all powerful, and can be manipulated by evil people to do whatever they want. How dare we allow young ones to see this? (She doesn’t actually say that, but it’s the implication). 

Neilson said that after the movie ended, she explained the problem to her two pre-teen sons, and while she was careful to claim that the conversation was age appropriate, I have my doubts. I imagine that conversation otherwise. 

Mom: Now, boys. You know that the contract Ariel signed was Malum in Se, contrary to public policy, and would be annulled in any court of law, above or below the sea. 

Son 1: Right, mom. But wasn’t it cool when all the animals attacked Ursula and stopped her wedding to Eric? Especially when Max bites her in the butt.  

Mom: Don’t say butt dear. It’s bottom. But you’re missing the point. Ariel, or her guardian ad litem, should have sued Ursula to have the contract declared Void Ab Initio, and then all would have been well. 

Son 2: I like it best when Eric rams Ursula with the ship. That was dope!!!! 

Mom: Both of you to your rooms. And while you’re there, read what Corbin has to say on this. 

Son 1 and Son 2: Aw, Mom. That’s injustus.  

The children emerge two hours later, having emersed themselves in the difference between mutuality and competency, only to find that their mother has channeled Be Kind Rewind to create a new ending to the Little Mermaid. Gone is the climactic battle between Ursula, Ariel and Eric in the roiling sea. Instead, Ariel has hired Perry Mackerel to get her out of the contract. Ursula is defended by F. Lee Barracuda. The Honorable Judge Judy Jackfish presides. 

At trial, Mackerel ruthlessly pummels Flotsam and Jetsam on cross-examination (in an understated and professional manner) until King Triton can take it no more. He leaps to his feet and admits that he was in cahoots with Ursula all along to rid his kingdom of undesirables, including his annoying youngest daughter. Judge Jackfish dissolves the contract (literally) as King Triton slinks away in shame. The full cast then breaks into a rousing reprisal of Poor Unfortunate Souls (Who Can’t Afford a Good Lawyer) as the credits roll. Mom is in tears, as the boys look at each other in bewilderment. 

As much as we are aware of anthropomorphism, the attribution of human characteristics to animals, we often ignore adultomorphism, the attribution of adult concerns to children. As we will explore in Part 2 of this diatribe, children do absorb amazing concepts as they interact with the world, both real and imaginary. However, to suggest that pre-teens will draw conclusions about something like the vagaries of law from a cartoon is, at best, questionable.   

While I am not a child psychiatrist, my own sense is that the vast majority of kids quickly understand the nature of stories, and plot devices, especially in movies. They don’t over-analyze, but enjoy. It is real life that provides the lessons, especially what they hear and see from their parents and other adults. I think that is what we should be more worried about that than aquatic agreements by animated krakens.       

Mel Brooks is back in the news. At age 95 he recently released a memoir entitled “All About Me!”, which chronicles his long and illustrious career. The book has gotten good reviews, and is on my list of books to eventually read (along with hundreds of others). You can count on Brooks to be irreverent, funny and shamelessly self-promoting. While he has had hits and misses, Mel has never done anything that was dull. 

The publication of this book has also brought a regurgitation of Brooks’ comments regarding political correctness. Mel is not a fan, to put it mildly. He has gone so far as to say that political correctness is the death of comedy. As Brooks put it, “Comedy has to walk a thin line, take risks. Comedy is the lecherous little elf whispering in the king’s ear, always telling the truth about human behavior”. Other comedic legends, such as Jerry Seinfeld and Dave Chappelle, have echoed those sentiments. 

It is hard to argue with Brooks generalizations about comedy. Much of the best comedy is subversive of pretentions and biases. Where would we be without Monty Python’s Upper Class Twit of the Year, or Richard Pryor’s Black and White Lifestyles standup routine. Or, for that matter, Brooks’ Blazing Saddles. We need comedians to burst the balloons we inflate justifying our, often absurd, behavior. 

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But are there limits? Brooks himself has said “I personally would never touch gas chambers or the death of children or Jews at the hands of the Nazis”. Is he suggesting that he would be OK if others did, or that this topic should be verboten for all? Does it matter who is doing the bit, or their intent? Are we, the audience, prohibited from crying foul if we think a comedian has gone too far towards promoting stereotypes, rather than deflating them? 

Political correctness has become a catchall defense for anyone who wants to deflect criticism from nasty, derogatory generalizations. Rather than justify controversial pronouncements, it is easier to blanket naysayers with this meaningless cliché and act as if the critics are the ones being offensive. It is a shallow, but all too often effective, defense.   

That being said, I don’t think that is what Brooks was talking about. Mel was not trying to justify anyone’s misogynistic or ethnic slurs. From everything we know about him, he is probably just as appalled as anyone else by statements from those in power, or seeking power, that denigrate people based on race, gender or sexual preferences. He just wants to carve out a niche for comedy to use those stereotypes to deflate those that embrace them.  

It is not as easy as Brooks suggests to put comedy into its own category, as evidenced by the fact that most of those who lauded his comments were political pundits who could care less about comedy. Whether he likes it or not, some people are going to use comedic bon mots to justify their own prejudices. And those justifications have real life consequences.  

For instance, hiring decisions have all too often been made not on personal qualifications, but on broad ethnic and gender generalizations. The jokes that are told around the proverbial watercooler turn into the bases for decisions regarding suitability for employment. Biases are reinforced and become part of the covert decision-making process. 

Political correctness, for all of the baggage that it has acquired, is nothing more than an effort to make us stop to realize those consequences. It is not an endeavor to protect people’s feelings, but to bury the societal assumptions that have kept certain groups from gaining equal access to opportunities. Isn’t that what this country is supposed to be about? 

By the way, comedy is doing just fine. For example, the movie Don’t Look Up was a biting satire, that managed to “tell the truth about human behavior” without stereotyping any specific group. In fact, the movie was probably stronger because it played off our universal inclination to take almost any issue, generalize it without full understanding, and then proclaim our beliefs. 

Stand-up comedians like Amy Schumer and Tim Heidecker have no problem mining our daily foibles without crossing political correctness lines, whatever they may be. They, and many comedians like them, have found a wide array of outlets, whether it’s through traditional mediums like movies and TV, or through alternative platforms like podcasts, Instagram or YouTube, to practice their craft. We probably have more opportunity to laugh now than we ever have.  

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That doesn’t mean that these comedians do not have to walk the thin line that Brooks has drawn in the sand. Yes, today’s comedians have to be more adept at avoiding casual insult than Brooks generation had to be. But they do not seem to be unduly hampered by having to take that stroll.  

At the end of the day, it is up to us, the audience, to determine what we will tolerate and what we will not. There will be those we turn away from either because their “humor” does nothing more than denigrate those that are not like them (the Andrew Dice Clay’s of the world), or because their personal behavior makes laughter impossible (hello, Louis C.K.). But hasn’t that always been the way? 

Maybe Brooks is right and some of his movies could not be made today, though I am not so sure. We still long to laugh at ourselves and the silly things we do. But if people want to use the guise of comedy to disparage, diminish and deprecate, we have every right to call them on it. That’s not political correctness. It’s the power of the peanut gallery, and long may it reign.