When I hear a call for a public meeting, my first thought is to ask why we need it. Is the issue something that absolutely needs more public input above and beyond what is already widely available?
Public meetings require considerable planning, advertising and recording. Sometimes they require a large space, which has to be rented. Is the issue big enough to warrant such a process or cost? Is this meeting efficient, or will it delay a process or a decision unnecessarily?
And, of course, I ask: does it serve the community as a whole or just a special interest group?
Political theorist Hannah Pitkin wrote that political representation is a “social relationship, constituted in part by shared meanings.”*
Social relationships are two-way. They require interaction, dialogue and trust to function. But with so many people, so many interests, demands, needs, wishes, agendas, issues and goals in even a small town, the relationship between representative and electorate is naturally uneven. You cannot be all things to all people.
The result of that imbalance is the rise of “informal representation” where special interest or advocacy groups formed to focus attention on their particular goals or demands because they feel under-represented by the politicians or the media.
But while any elected representative can make some claim to be universal and inclusive, special interest groups are, by their nature, particular and exclusive. Council has to worry about infrastructure, the downtown, taxes, industry, recreation, jobs, zoning, the debt, communication, library, museum, bylaws, budgets, signs, staffing – a whole gamut of issues, services and facilities that most special interests ignore in pursuit of their specific goals.
Special interest groups act like acupuncture needles on hot spots of particular focus. They can galvanize their members to bring public attention to themselves and their cause, and to act as advocates and pressure points on council. That attention can be either good or bad – sometimes the attention is warranted and serves the greater good; other times it serves some more limited or even inimical purpose.
Often the informal and unelected representatives see themselves as entitled to the same decision making authority as their elected counterparts, as if on par with them. Trust between formal and informal representatives can then break down into an adversarial relationship when the elected representatives do not perform as the special interest groups expect or demand. But it is not a contest between two governments: only one is the elected authority.
To increase their power, these groups often lobby elected representatives to act as their advocates, or try to create factionalism among the body of representatives to prevent action that is counter to the group’s goals. We’ve seen both, locally. Dr. Mark Cooray wrote,
Pressure groups give rise to special problems. The public choice theorists argue that pressure groups have in fact increased arbitrary government. In the absence of limitations, factionalism leads to the pursuit of separate ends, with the government gaining power to satisfy particular demands.
To attempt to be as inclusive as possible, council always tries to involve the public as much as is both practical and effective.
Public input is ubiquitous in our system. Council meetings are open and public, and we advertise the subjects under discussion beforehand. The debates and votes are held in public view, covered by local media and available online. Public input is accepted by email, letter, or delegation, and every member of council has his or her contact information published to facilitate access. Almost every document or piece of correspondence is available for public reading. Plus there are mandated meetings where public input is actively solicited, such as zoning changes.
Councillor Hull’s recent motion demanding the town “hold further public dialogue to engage the citizens of the Town of Collingwood for their input and comments on the various opportunities identified by Council & Staff to ensure that the proceeds of this public sale are being used in the best interest of the taxpayers and residents of the Town of Collingwood,” strikes me as mere political opportunism. It is both inefficient and unnecessary (and a trifle wordy).
Why?
Because we already held a public session late last year, hearing delegations and taking written submissions from residents;
Because we have been receiving suggestions and comments from the public ever since we got the Collus money, as recently as an email sent to council Sunday. We received a request for a delegation about this just last week;
Because it has been reported in the media for months and as a result, the public has participated by providing comment during that time;
And because we have already given staff the task to collate all those suggestions and present them to council for discussion in the near future;
It also discredits the considerable amount of public input and engagement already received, as well as presupposes staff’s pending report will be inadequate;
Asking to do it again before we even have the opportunity to read the staff report is redundant and a waste of staff time and energy; it will direct staff away from other, more immediate tasks (like completing the 2013 budget);
Adding more ideas to the two dozen or more already collected will not make decision making easier, faster or more efficient – it will only confuse and delay the issue.**
The argument that some people didn’t comment initially because they thought the money was already allocated, and thus need a second chance, is a canard. The issue has been raised too often and for too long in the media, on social media and at council for anyone not to know about it. We have received comments and emails about it before and since the public meeting, indicating that the public has not felt shy about commenting. A second public meeting only delays the decision.
Further, you don’t keep doing and redoing a thing simply because you don’t like the answer the first time around.
Municipal politics isn’t a card game where you keep pulling cards from the deck to see if this one is the one, and if not, pulling out another until you get the answer you wanted. One point of our procedural bylaw is to keep issues from being dragged back to the table every time someone doesn’t agree with the vote.
We represent the entire community, not just a special interest. We have to consider all the possible uses for the funds; examine all the suggestions and their financial implications, and pick those that will ultimately benefit the entire community – not just serve the needs of the few.
A public meeting should be called only when it serves the greater good, not to foster personal or special interest agendas.
Once we have read the staff report, and discussed the suggestions already in it, we can decide if we need to have another public meeting. But I will always keep in mind that we are elected to make decisions, not to find ways to duck them or delay them. ~~~~~ *The Concept of Representation. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1967. ** After this long, and with this many ideas already presented, does anyone actually believe some exceptional, new and unconsidered idea will be brought forward?
“…founded on the principle of elected people representing a group of people, as opposed to direct democracy. All modern Western style democracies are various types of representative democracies…”
And so is Canada, and by extension so is the Town of Collingwood; small cog it may be in the great machinery of democratic government. We elect people to represent us, to make decisions for us, to debate the issues for us.
Some people mistake the point of this system. They believe we elect people to do what they’re told, to act as their delegates and represent solely their own interests rather than those of the whole electorate. We’ve seen that reaction locally.
Edmund Burke, that great critic of unrestrained democracy, was adamant that the duty of a representative was not simply to act as a rubber stamp for the wishes of the electorate, turning every demand or grumble into legislation or votes. Burke said, in a speech in 1774, that representatives owed the electorate the duty of both their conscience and their judgment – even if their views ran counter to those of the majority:
“…it ought to be the happiness and glory of a representative to live in the strictest union, the closest correspondence, and the most unreserved communication with his constituents. Their wishes ought to have great weight with him; their opinion, high respect; their business, unremitted attention. It is his duty to sacrifice his repose, his pleasures, his satisfactions, to theirs; and above all, ever, and in all cases, to prefer their interest to his own. But his unbiassed opinion, his mature judgment, his enlightened conscience, he ought not to sacrifice to you, to any man, or to any set of men living. These he does not derive from your pleasure; no, nor from the law and the constitution. They are a trust from Providence, for the abuse of which he is deeply answerable. Your representative owes you, not his industry only, but his judgment; and he betrays, instead of serving you, if he sacrifices it to your opinion.” Edmund Burke: Reflections on the Revolution in France
Burke believed representatives should be a trustee, not merely a delegate. He never advocated acting without consideration for the electorate, but he believed at the end of the day, you were elected to make decisions, and for everyone’s best interests.
While good in theory, Burke was also skeptical about how it worked in practice because democracy is fraught with challenges. As Wikipedia notes, he believed,
“…government required a degree of intelligence and breadth of knowledge of the sort that was very uncommon among the common people. Second he thought that common people had dangerous and angry passions that could be easily aroused by demagogues if they had the vote; he feared the authoritarian impulses that could be empowered by these passions would undermine cherished traditions and established religion, leading to violence and confiscation of property. Thirdly, Burke warned that democracy would tyrannize unpopular minorities who needed the protection of the upper classes.”
Things have not changed as much since Burke’s day as we might imagine. In fact, we need even more knowledge today than ever before to govern effectively. Thanks to the advent of social media, everyone is empowered to rise to the level of demagogue, and passionate – often authoritarian and intemperate – impulses rule internet forums, blogs and social media. We see some people using those tools to “tyrannize” and bully others by the sheer volume and anger of their attack.
Perhaps the difference is that today you can more easily tyrannize the majority with these methods, not simply the “unpopular minorities” Burke wrote about.
Some people … believe we elect people to do what they’re told, to act as their delegates and represent solely their own interests rather than those of the whole electorate. We’ve seen that reaction locally.
Representational democracy exists because the “direct” democracy of the Greek city states is impractical today. You simply cannot convene a meeting where every citizen has a say and a vote for every issue and you can’t have a referendum for every vote. If we did, we would still be debating the palette of colours for the heritage district, or the size of A-frame signs, and nothing would ever get done.
One hundred percent participation may be democracy by strict definition, but it would veer uncomfortably close to anarchy and mob rule. The loudest voices would top the rest. That’s why we choose representatives to manage our interests: it avoids the decline into mob rule. And that means the representatives have the responsibility of listening to all voices, not just the loudest.
To prevent representational democracy from becoming a dictatorship of the elected, various laws are in place to act as checks and balances on the process and on how power is wielded. This works relatively well here in Canada, especially in our non-party municipal politics; it works rather poorly in the USA where lobbyists easily buy votes and favourable legislation. No system is perfect.
~~~~~
*The Concept of Representation. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1967.
The following is a statement made verbally by Mayor Sandra Cooper, at Collingwood Council, Mon., Jan. 28, 2013. It explains the timeline of events between the Pretty River Academy and the Town of Collingwood. It should set the record straight and clear up the misinformation around this issue:
JANUARY 28, 2013 – MAYOR’S STATEMENT ON THE PRETTY RIVER ACADEMY
As noted at last week’s Council meeting, as Mayor, I agreed to provide an update to the community about the facts surrounding the erroneous and misleading statements regarding the Town’s past and present dealings with the Pretty River Academy, that have been alleged in the press, social media and a recent letter mass-mailed to Collingwood residents.
Fiction vs. Fact
1. FICTION:A public private partnership (community use agreement) was signed on November 30, 2009. FACT: Council authorized entering into an agreement on November 30, 2009. That was signed only by the Town. The Academy did not agree to the terms and conditions and suggested revisions. After ongoing discussions with respect to the community use agreement, a letter from the former CAO, dated October 12, 2010, was sent to PRA to confirm that the original intent of the agreement as approved by Council had not been maintained. The Town would not be in a position to repay or finance the capital investment of the private asset. If the original intent of the agreement was not maintained, then the Town would be unable to support this initiative. An agreement was never finalized.
2. FICTION:On the date the Dome was completed (December 19, 2012), with no forewarning, we (PRA) were handed a letter from the Town stating we could not rent the facility and the zoning was wrong. FACT: Representatives from the Academy had been advised of the limits of their current zoning since the consideration of the Community Use Agreement (2009), Site Plan Amendment application (2010), and prior to issuance of the temporary permit on December 6th, 2012. The Academy applied for the rezoning on December 14, 2012.
The Town became aware that the School was aggressively advertising the rental of this facility. Staff contacted the school to reiterate that renting the facility was not in compliance with the zoning by-law until it is approved by Council. The matter was reviewed with our solicitor, and it was agreed that a formal letter be forwarded to the school to confirm that the Town would forebear enforcement of the zoning by-law until the zoning application was received and processed. The school was advised of this prior to receiving the formal letter. The letter never stated that they could NOT rent the facility.
3. FACT: The School is not legally allowed to rent the facility at this time.
However as noted above, the Town has formally advised the School that we will not enforce the zoning by-law until Council has considered the School’s Zoning By-law amendment application that, if approved, will permit the school to rent their facility, similar to other public schools in Town.
In conclusion, I want to reiterate that the Town has been, and continues to work cooperatively with the Academy to achieve their goals, and expand opportunities.
Timeline
The Town has been working cooperatively with Pretty River Academy since it was constructed in 2006.
Discussions with respect to a sports dome commenced in 2009 after the school was successfully awarded government funding. Concern was raised with respect to a private school being awarded public funding. Council, at that time, also had an appreciation for the benefits that a year round sports facility could have for the community and offered to partner with the Academy for community uses that are permitted by a public authority (being the Town).
Council authorized entering into such an agreement in November 2009 (it was signed by the former Mayor and Clerk). However, the Pretty River Academy was not satisfied with the terms at that time, and the agreement was never finalized. The Academy committed to revising the agreement to terms that would be mutually acceptable.
In May 2010, the PRA submitted an application to amend the site plan that would provide for the construction of a sports dome. A site development meeting to review the application was held in June 2010, together with representatives of the PRA. The internal comments submitted to the PRA expressly addressed the zoning and permitted uses.
Council authorized executing the amending site plan agreement on August 2010 to allow the construction of a sports dome. Unfortunately, in a staff report, it was incorrectly noted that an agreement for the community use had been executed, as approved in November 2009.
In October 2010, after ongoing discussions with respect to the community use agreement, a letter from former CAO was sent to PRA to confirm that the original intent of the agreement as approved by Council has not been maintained. The Town would not be in a position to repay or finance the capital investment of the private asset. If the original intent of the agreement was not maintained, then the Town would be unable to support this initiative (community use agreement). An agreement was never finalized.
In September 2012, the PRA was now in a position to proceed with the construction of the dome and apply for a building permit. Upon issuance of a building permit the respective development charges for the Town, County and School Board become payable. The PRA was not aware that changes in 2009 to the development charges by-law required the PRA to pay (development charges) in excess of $278,000. Following a deputation from the PRA in October 2012, staff has been continuing to work cooperatively with representatives to identify any mechanism available that would allow the Academy to construct the dome, with no impact on our taxpayers or infrastructure, and be economically viable for the school.
At that time, it was also suggested that if the Academy was able to manage their own bookings they would also be able to retain the 15% fee that was to be provided to the Town for the service.
The amicable solution was to proceed with permitting the dome as a temporary structure.
PRA’s zoning amendment application seeks to revise the limitation of the current zoning maximum 120 days that the dome could be erected. In addition, they requested that the use provisions be changed to allow them to rent out the facility on their own – without the involvement of a “public authority” similar to the zoning rules for public schools. The Academy filed their application on December 14th, 2012.
As earlier noted, they could continue to use their facilities as they were, and the Town would forebear enforcement until the rezoning was decided. A public meeting is scheduled for February 4th, 2013 on this matter.
An odd bit of synchronicity. I picked up a few unusual board games* at the discount/remainder store downtown (in the former Shoppers’ Drug Mart building) a couple of weeks back, and was mulling over their instructions, wondering why they seemed such odd and awkward games. In fact, they seemed rather unplayable, more like intellectual exercises in game design. Yet they were beautifully made, and very attractive.
Was it the topic? The manual? The components? What makes for a good game, what makes a bad one? Why have some games lingered on and are still being played – Monopoly, Scrabble, chess, go, Risk, Trivial Pursuit for example – while others seem to come and go? Was it simply that I was no longer conversant with the nature of the board gaming world?
“…a University of Manchester physicist has discovered that some games are simply impossible to fully learn, or too complex for the human mind to understand.”
That led me to thoughts about games and game design. I’m a game player, always have been. Ever since my father taught me to play chess, around age 7 or 8. Admittedly I don’t play as much today, and mostly on the computer, but I can still spend a few hours now and then, immersed in a game like Civ V, Tropico 4 or others.
Background: In the mid-1970s, I owned a small bookstore in Toronto. Among my lines was a rather good selection of chess books. Unfortunately, I was a better chess player than business owner, and I eventually closed my store and sold my stock. The chess books went to Mr. Gameways, a game store on Bloor Street. I got along with its manager so well, that he offered me a job, and for the next couple of years I managed the board game floor. During that time, I got heavily immersed in board games, particularly war games; easily the most challenging, complicated and demanding type of game ever. Eventually I ended up writing for wargaming magazines, reviewing wargames and even playtesting a few (along with several attempts at designing).
Imagine learning a rule book with 12, 24, even 60 pages of densely-packed rules! A board with hundreds, even thousands of pieces, multiple charts and tables, and complex interactions between them. And we learned and played new games at least once a month. Sometimes every week. As the Science Digest article says,
However, when games became more complex and when there are a lot of moves, such as in chess, the board game Go or complex card games, the academics argue that players’ actions become less rational and that it is hard to find optimal strategies.
Wargaming was a small but avid culture that had its heyday in the 1980s. Much like chess, there were clubs where people came to engage in games regularly, often playing a single game against an opponent for four or more hours. Some games took months to complete – I had a small circle of like-minded friends who met weekly to play some of the larger games, usually four to six of us at a time, with maps that spread out to cover an entire dining room table. War in the East (the entire Soviet-German war from 1941-45) and Highway to the Reich (Operation Market Garden) were two of the larger, table-size games I recall. Each session lasted three-six hours; the entire game took months to play through.
Complex? Challenging? Difficult? Yes to all. But captivating, too. They demanded strategic thinking often well beyond the horizon that chess offers. Yet there was still a random element – the roll of the die to determine combat results – that made the games exciting, and always different. Plus there was the virtual-general aspect: commanding anywhere from dozens to hundreds of units, managing logistics, strategy, setting operation goals…
Often the battles were very unequal, which added a different level of challenge. Can you win a battle that was historically lost by your side’s army? Sometimes… that all depended on how the game was designed, and what the victory conditions were. Winning might be, in game terms, losing less horribly than was historical. It might mean holding out longer before inevitable defeat. There’s a good description of a wargame here. The author of that blog notes:
“Wargames have to manifest some degree of historical specificity to be differentiated from popular but generic conflict games like Stratego or Risk. The popular Axis and Allies franchise (Hasbro) or more recently Memoir ’44 (Days of Wonder) represent about the minimum history acceptable in this regard. Unlike many Euro games, where the nominal historical subject is nothing but a thematic skin for the underlying game engine, board wargames try to capture some salient aspect of the events they depict, be it a particular strategic dilemma, operational opportunity or challenge, or battlefield dynamic.”
Look at Dunkirk, for a real-life example. As a straightforward wargame based on armies and tanks, the Germans win every time. They had overwhelming superiority in terms of men and weapons, greater mobility and higher morale, better supply lines. But the British “won” by being rescued from an isolated beach and saving a large portion of its army. How can a game designer incorporate the political elements, the indecision, the German High Command’s failure to follow through? That’s one of those thorny game-design problems. How to create a playable game out of an unequal situation. The Science Digest article notes,
Much of traditional game theory, the basis for strategic decision-making, is based on the equilibrium point — players or workers having a deep and perfect knowledge of what they are doing and of what their opponents are doing.
Dr Galla, from the School of Physics and Astronomy, said: “Equilibrium is not always the right thing you should look for in a game.”
“In many situations, people do not play equilibrium strategies, instead what they do can look like random or chaotic for a variety of reasons, so it is not always appropriate to base predictions on the equilibrium model.”
In fact, a game doesn’t have to be balanced to be fun, interesting or challenging. Many traditional, strategic board games like chess or go are balanced. Some, from snakes & ladders to backgammon and bridge, introduce randomness to change the balance. But real life is never like that. Many wargames introduced tension and dynamics through historical situations where unequal sides clashed
Another historical example: Waterloo. While the allies (England and the German states) had, collectively, a larger army, they were initially scattered (especially the English), had longer and more vulnerable supply lines, and were not working together as a cohesive force. The French started with a central position, internal lines, the element of surprise, the morale benefit provided by Napoleon, and more experienced leaders. Which situation offered an advantage? The French need to strike fast and hard; break each Allied army separately before they can join forces. The Allies need to delay the French long enough for the British army to collect itself, then for both to gather at a point where they can defeat the French.
Could Napoleon have won? Potentially, if had been able to defeat the Allies separately, without suffering too many casualties – and had been able to manage his rather independent and unruly generals while maintaining his lines of supply. A good designer can craft a Waterloo game to present all the challenges that were historically present, and craft it so that Napoleon has some chance of winning, without stepping too far from historicity. And make the game fun to play. In fact, replaying Waterloo has long been a popular activity for wargame and miniatures gamers because of the different challenges both sides face, and the see-saw nature of the battle.
Playability versus realism – always the teeter-totter when designing wargames. Some games were classics of good design – the Napoleon’s Last Battles quad (and many of the other quad series games), Barbarossa, and PanzerBlitz come to mind as good examples of balance in both areas. The author of this article raises some interesting points about wargames that I hadn’t considered when I was playing them:
Board wargames function as paper computers. The abstraction of combat, movement, supply, and other basic military considerations into a numerically expressed spectrum of outcomes, randomized by die rolls within the parameters of a situation, makes the genre a rich source for anyone interested in the formal and procedural representation of dynamic, often ambiguous, literally contested experience. Because wargames are embodied in cardboard and charts rather than algorithms and code, they are by their nature “open source.” That is, the quantitative model underpinning the game system is materially exposed for inspection and analysis.
Finally, while most often understood in terms related to either gaming or simulation, board wargames can also function as powerful narrative agents. Players routinely discuss a game’s capacity for “narrative,” meaning whether the discrete die rolls and events allow them to suspend disbelief and create a believable storyworld that accords with their sense of historical plausibility. “Game fiction,” as the term has been defined by Jason Rhody, is therefore a salient feature of board wargames (a “genre of game that draws upon and uses narrative strategies to create, maintain, and lead the user through a fictional environment”).
I really understand his comment on the narrative nature of wargames.
A lot of independent game designers popped up during my wargaming days, creating sometimes remarkable games, sometimes unplayable ones. Occasionally I saw a tendency towards too much data, too many complex rules to try and capture the historical events through in-game strictures – putting realism over playability. That led to complex, difficult games where players read rule books while trying to figure out moves, and often argued over interpretations of even minor rules that could create big effects when used in play.
We also argued continually over interpretation of unit values. Was this tank model really worth two combat points more than that one? Did the designer appropriately take into account the bigger calibre gun or the wider tread? Was this cavalry regiment really better than that one, given the poor showing of its leader on the actual battlefield? Can a company of foot soldiers really travel that far in the time a turn represents? Does this general deserve that high a modifier compared to that one? We all became historians, usually with specialties in certain periods and equipment.
Of course, the way you learn about a game is by buying and playing it. At one point I had a huge collection – hundreds – of wargames. Now I have a mere handful, mostly kept for their nostalgic value. Wargaming led to buying a lot of books on military history and strategy, too, and my house was full of such books for many years. Like the games, only a dozen or so remain on the shelves.
Today, computer games rule the industry. The trend is often the other way: towards higher playability rather than realism. Popular games are too often mere entertainment. Oh, there’s a lot of “realism” in the environment – 3D landscapes, destructible objects, real-world physics with ballistics and gravity – but these define the setting, not the nature of the play. Computer games are often mechanically simple despite their visual impressiveness, especially the first-person shooters. In FPS, it’s all about fast fingers, rather than strategic planning or (just play in any multi-player FPS game online and you’ll find out how little real military tactics are used).
Even many computer simulations try to mask the inherent complexity – the realism – in a simplified interface, insulating the player from having to deal with too much data. You need both, in a reasonable balance to create an immersive experience. SimCity and Civ IV came very close to that balance. I have started to investigate computer wargames again, too – I was disappointed by them in the past, but there are new generations out worth looking at.
Gaming and game design still interests me, and every now and then invokes some almost-forgotten emotions and memories, but not with the same passion that pushed me in my wargaming days. I still believe some types of gaming are good intellectual exercises, are are good for strengthening the brain and teaching strategic thinking. However, I can’t help but look at any game – board or computer with a combination gamer’s and editor’s eyes, even today, and mentally weigh its merits and its design in terms of my own years of experience and play.
Update: the author of those blog posts responded to my email with a link to this post (and others) about what we can learn from wargames:
So what can we learn from wargames? Where Costikyan sees realism and historical fidelity and validity in simulation, I see a contemporary player and design community (both hobbyist and professional) that values attention to process in the procedural or quantitative representation of complex, often literally contested phenomena. Where Costikyan sees a focus on outcomes, I see a focus on the in-game experience, and the after the fact analysis and discussion of what happened and why.
~~~~~
*Principato: a city-building/trading and farming game set in the Renaissance; De Vulgari Eloquentia, a game set in the late Middle Ages about religion, commerce and language; The Golden City, a trading-maze-merchant game, and Skyline 3000, a city-building futuristic game. All were produced by Z-man games. They attracted me because of their subject matter, but, so far, I have not warmed up to any enough to play them. Despite their high build quality, their instructions make them seem opaque and difficult. That might just be the editor within me wanting to rewrite them, however, and I will look more closely at them in the future and maybe even try one or two. Some of them are well reviewed at boardgamegeek,com.
I also got a maze game based on the Dilbert cartoon characters which is much simpler, but is at least playable without much reading or preparation. And, of course, it has Dilbert in it, one of my favourite cartoon characters.
As far back as I can recall, the term “tar baby” was a metaphor in common political parlance for a “sticky situation.” It has no racial meaning in that context, any more than saying “honey trap” or “sticky wicket.” Both have similar, but not synonymous meanings. But in the last decade, “tar-baby” has become the new N-word on the political stage.*
The tar-baby theme is common in mythology from many cultures (referenced, for example, in Joseph’s Campbell’s groundbreaking work, Hero With a Thousand Faces). It represents an apparently attractive situation that traps the beholder and, once you embrace it, the harder you struggle to break free, the more you become stuck in it. I’ve used the term in such a context in several blog posts. But recently, when I was accused on Facebook of using “racist” terms by mentioning a tar-baby situation, I was taken aback, and felt I had to disagree. And do some research.
In 2009, the use of this term in the House of Commons created a mini-cyclone of comment about allegedly racist terminology used in the House. As the blog Unambiguously Ambidextrous, notes:
A controversy erupted in the House of Commons today after Conservative MP Pierre Poilievre, the parliamentary secretary to the prime minister, used the term “tar baby” in response to Liberal Leader Michael Ignatieff’s decision to back away from Stephane Dion’s unpopular carbon tax policy. I have to plead ignorance on the etymology of the noun, as I have always been more familiar with the pejorative.
“On that side of the House, they have the man who fathered the carbon tax, put it up for adoption to his predecessor and now wants a paternity test to prove the tar baby was never his in the first place,” said Poilievre.
This was followed by MP Ralph Goodale’s objections to the term and asked Mr. Poilievre to apologize for the usage:
“In addition to being a pejorative term, which might well prove to be unparliamentary, the parliamentary secretary might consider that there are many authorities both in this country and many others that consider the term racist,” said Goodale.
Stephen Taylor provided a list of references to similar non-parliamentary uses of the term in his blog, none of which seem to have have generated the same storm of controversy. Clara Rising, writing in 2002 about collective religious consciousness, called original sin, “a cultural Tar Baby implacable and immutable, as infinite and as unavoidable as eternity.”
Back in 2006, then-governor Mitt Romney was taken to task for using the term “tar-baby” in a reference to a piece of problematic infrastructure. As a Time Magazine writer commented about the subsequent uproar:
So, is use of the term today a case of insensitivity? Or is the controversy caused by political correctness gone amok?
The latter, I suggest. True, I might not be as sensitive to it as Americans. I don’t live in the same political-racial-social milieu as most Americans; while racism exists in Canada, it is not nearly as overt in our multicultural nation.
In the USA, “tar-baby” has been used as a pejorative (and sometimes as a term of affection). Racial politics are so highly charged among our southern neighbours that it is a treacherous undercurrent in American political dialogue. As the Colorado Springs Gazette noted in this editorial:
Racism in the political sphere today has become so insulting that it makes “tar-baby” seem benign.
Even if mild, a white person calling someone of African-American heritage a “tar-baby” is considered a racist slur, and I can appreciate the sensitivity of the use. But surely there’s a difference between labelling a person, race or group with a term and labelling an issue or situation.
Just as an example, calling a woman a “honey trap” is very different from labelling a common tactic in espionage a honey trap. If I call a woman a bitch, it is very different from calling a tricky shot in golf one. Clearly context matters.
Would there be an issue if we used the metaphor of the “tar-wolf” (from James Mooney’s Myths of the Cherokee)? Would anyone be accused of slinging racist slurs against aboriginal First Nations people by talking about a “tar-wolf” situation? The two stories are almost identical, aside from the difference between the character molded from the tar. Both the Cherokee and African-Americans shared at least one disreputable part of US history:
If these two stories sound remarkably similar, it is no coincidence. Before the Cherokee were relocated to Oklahoma in 1838, many were plantation owners and owned slaves.
In the heated cauldron of American politics, or in the adversarial arena of the House of Commons, people are constantly looking for ways to attack opponents for any reason, regardless of the validity or strength of the attack. Unfortunately, this also creates a situation of apparent wrongdoing by making it a focus of media attention. The perception of racism can create the reality in the public mind that it is there, regardless any logical argument that it is imaginary. Words themselves, no matter how innocently used, become their own tar-babies.
The notion that referencing African folklore reveals inherent racism against those of African descent is bizarre.
True, the tar baby has been fundamentally misunderstood by various illiterate racists. In their ignorance of the folklore, such bigots think the term applies specifically to a black person. For example, the late comedic genius Bernie Mac wrote of being called a “tar baby” as a child. But surely we ought not let ignorant racists push us to obliterate cultural knowledge of important African folklore.
This raises the question: where does the reference come from? The Denver Post points out a bit of the history:
“Tar baby” comes from African folklore. Congressman Doug Lamborn used the term to refer to the debt-ceiling negotiations, not the president. And the nationwide smear campaign against Lamborn follows the left’s typical path of character assassination and guilt by association.
In his book, “Hero with a Thousand Faces,” Joseph Campbell writes of the “celebrated and well-nigh universal tar-baby story of popular folklore.” Campbell refers to scholar Aurelio Espinosa, who in the 1930s and ’40s gathered hundreds of examples of “the tar-baby story” from around the world, varying in detail but all about getting stuck in something.
In America, we know the story best from Joel Chandler Harris’ “Uncle Remus” stories of the 1800s. But Harris did not create these stories. Instead, he took (some say stole) them from slaves, who brought the stories with them from Africa and adapted them orally.
What’s ironic is that Chandler’s stories were not seen as racist until more than a century later. They were originally treated as they were meant: records of African-American folklore.** As Wikipedia notes:
The animal stories were conveyed in such a manner that they were not seen as racist by many among the audiences of the time. By the mid-20th century, however, the dialect and the “old Uncle” stereotype of the narrator, was considered politically incorrect and demeaning by many African-American people, on account of what they considered to be racist and patronizing attitudes toward African-Americans. Providing additional controversy is the story’s context in the Antebellum south on a slave owning plantation, a setting that is portrayed in a passive and even docile manner. Nevertheless, Harris’ work was, according to himself, an accurate account of the stories he heard from the slaves when he worked on a plantation as a young man. … Many of the stories that he recorded have direct equivalents in the African oral tradition, and it is thanks to Harris that their African-American form is preserved.
Wikipedia has a lengthier list of antecedents, including Cherokee and African folk tales, and mentions one researcher who identified 267 variants on the tale in world mythology.
The New Republic took up the debate, noting in 2011 when the term again raised its politically-charged head:
…the word around the blogosphere, most articulately phrased by David Sirota at Salon, is that Lamborn was using coded language: “[T]he comment reveals how various forms of racism are still being mainstreamed by the fringe right,” as Sirota has it. But before making that judgment, we must ascertain: Is tar baby actually a racial slur?
Certainly not the way the guys before Lamborn were using it. A notion that they were passing a quiet signal to racists is awkward, given the decidedly non-black topics they were discussing. Need we entertain the possibility that Romney was telegraphing a subtle signal to bigots in a discussion of a highway project? Was John McCain preaching a coded message to a racist base in a comment about divorce procedure?
In those instances, a simpler analysis works. Language is all about metaphor, and it is useful to have one to refer to objects or topics that ensnare one upon contact. It’s why the Bre’r Rabbit story the expression traces to has had such legs—as well as why cultures worldwide, including African ones, have equivalent folklore characters. Thus a reasonable analysis is that people reach for this useful metaphor, within the rapid and subconscious activity that speaking entails, unaware that some consider it to have a second meaning as a slur.
As little as I respect the Republicans or Harper’s Conservatives, I doubt they would be deliberately and provocatively racist, and, like my use, meant the word as a powerful metaphor that still resounds in popular culture. John McWhorter, at the New Republic, added:
I submit, however, that to a large extent, those who feel that tar baby’s status as a slur is patently obvious are judging from the fact that it sounds like a racial slur, because tar is black and baby sounds dismissive. And here’s the crucial point: that, in itself, is a reality that cannot be denied.
Part of the human propensity for metaphor is that we make semantic associations, which drift and reassign over time. As such, it’s not the most graceful thing to refer to a black figure as a tar baby, and it was quite gracious for Lamborn to apologize. However, to assume Lamborn knew the word was a slur and was passing a grimy little signal to his base is unwarranted here. It is the kind of reflexive and recreational abuse we revile when it comes from the other direction (i.e. Obama as a “racist”).
Tar baby is one of those intermediate cases: The basic meaning is the folkloric one, while a derived meaning, known only to a segment of American English speakers (and to many among them, only vaguely) is a dismissive reference to black people.
There will be gaffes with expressions like these, upon which, in a sociologically enlightened society, apologies will be necessary. However, to insist upon the moral backwardness of the apologist is logically incoherent in reference to this particular term, and as such, less sociologically enlightened than it may seem.
Sounds like a racist slur? Should we not judge a thing by more depth than a bad first impression? There’s a conversation in Woody Allen’s movie, Annie Hall, in which Alvy Singer (played by Allen) is complaining about what he (mis)hears as an anti-Semitic remark by a TV executive:
“You know, I was having lunch with some guys from NBC, so I said, ‘Did you eat yet or what?’ And Tom Christie said, ‘No, JEW?’ Not ‘Did you?’…JEW eat? JEW? You get it? JEW eat?”
Which the audience recognizes as both comically over-sensitive on Alvy’s part, but also as a wry comment on how things get misconstrued so easily. Such is the situation with “tar-baby” today. Except not all of the audience seems to get the joke.
The irony is that “tar baby” has become its own tar baby, and we’re all getting stuck in it. Several media outlets reviewed my detailed blog posts on the matter, and all involved stole time away from addressing the nation’s pressing problems.
Yet there’s a reason the tar baby folktale has spread through so many cultures. It teaches us something important and universal about human nature. And that’s precisely why we ought not sacrifice the African tar baby story on the altar of political correctness.
I agree with that last line. Metaphors are powerful and memorable because they speak to something larger than just the words. Most come from storytelling and in a few words they encapsulate the entire tale – the characters, the events, the moral. The Colorado Springs Gazette suggests what I don’t believe is a reasonable solution:
Let us all stop saying “tar-baby,” for sure. For using this phrase, Lamborn will pay. He is mired in a controversy that will get worse as he fights against it. But let’s keep perspective. Relative to the racial hatred and insensitivity that permeates political rhetoric of the past and present, this should be far from a major-league scandal.
What next? Will we stop saying “slow but steady wins the race” because it comes from one of Aesop’s fables, and it might be seen as a slur against Greeks? Stop using “the boy who cried wolf” because it might be derogatory towards shepherds? Stop using the “good Samaritan” parable because it might be seen as a pejorative against Palestinians (today’s Samaritan ancestors)? Where will this nonsense end? Will we abandon all of our powerful language and chuck metaphors out the window out of fear someone won’t understand what we’re saying?
Better instead to get our head out of the politically correct sand learn to recognize the context of a metaphor. Stop treating it like a convenient one-size-fits-all racist slur that fits your preconceived political notions, and start thinking critically instead.
~~~~~
* Yes, I know “tar baby” is really two words, but calling it the new N-phrase has no cachet. N-word has a life of its own, larger than mere counting or vocabulary.
** Uncle Remus stories were still popular when I was growing up in the 1950s, and I saw Disney’s 1946 cartoon version (Song of the South) on TV that decade. Even as a child I was able to see the racial stereotypes and exaggerations. Uncle Remus tales were still available in school libraries, too, sometimes alone, other times in compilations of folktales.
Read the tale here. I wonder why the briar patch metaphor from the second half of the tale does not evoke similar revulsion among the politically correct guardians.
Let’s start 2013 with a sober consideration of the social and economic costs of gambling. Back n 2006, the Canadian Medical Association noted that,
“Provincial governments may be glossing over the societal and health costs of problem gambling, including depression and suicide, because of the significant income they gain from gambling, claim several public advocacy and mental health organizations.”
Glossing over is a polite way of saying “deceiving.” They’re hiding the facts from the public. The CMA called for a thorough and scientific study of the “relevance of depression and suicide among problem gamblers.”
“The normal system that provides checks and balances around this area is compromised because government in every province is responsible for alcohol and gaming regulation of the industry — and the welfare of those with gambling problems,” says Neasa Martin, a researcher at the Mood Disorders Society of Canada. “Their revenues are closely tied to the gambling industry, putting a pall on normal advocacy around the issue.”
This article has a parallel piece in the CMAJ that lists the three “elephants in the room” that have to be part of any discussion about gambling. These, the author states, are:
…the inequitable distribution of the risks and benefits of gambling in our society;
…treatment of problem gambling cannot undo the damage caused by lost wealth;
…health promotion. It is time for governments and public health advocates to stop being seduced by the promise of anti-gambling campaigns and education that place the onus of self-control on the shoulders of the very individuals who have a serious disorder of impulse control.
Gambling is, of course, voluntary taxation.* I have no moral issue over gambling; however, if people wish to gift the government their wages, they could just as easily mail the Minister of Finance a cheque every few weeks, and save us the contentious debate over gambling in our municipality. I do, however, believe that government dependence on gambling revenue is a fool’s economy. Any government – municipal and higher.
Back to the numbers
Let’s take a moment and consider some numbers before we continue. The Ontario Lottery Gaming Corporation (OLG)**has accepted the studies that show roughly 3.4% of the population as “moderate to serious” gambling problems. The Problem Gambling Association (PGIC) suggests a range between 1.2% and 3.4%, depending on which study you read and how you define “problem.” There are other studies that show the percentage in Ontario is as high as 4.8%.
The population of Ontario in 2011 was 12,851,821. At the low end of that range, there are 154,222 Ontarians with severe gambling problems. At the upper end, there are 436,962. A London Free Press article on gambling ups this to “almost 500,000″ without a source reference.
In other studies, the national average of problem gamblers (moderate is not mentioned) was estimated to be 2%. At 2%, there are still more than 257,000 problem gamblers in Ontario; but that media figure is lower than most experts estimate. In young gamblers aged 15 to 24 years, the percentage is much higher as this study found:
”…the national prevalence of moderate-risk or problem gambling was 2.22% (3.30% in male respondents and 1.10% in female respondents). …Regional prevalence estimates of youth moderate-risk or problem gambling were… 2.75% in Ontario….”
This article repeats another warning from CAMH that, “Young people are twice as likely as their adult counterparts to develop serious gambling problems.”
Younger Ontarians are also more likely to gamble online, as the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health (CAMH) reported in 2005: “…aged 18-34 were most likely to gamble money over the Internet compared to the older age groups.” And to capture more of that market, the OLG is launching a whole new internet gambling initiative in 2013.
Until recently, it was illegal for Ontarians to gamble online, but because the OLG now wants a slice of that pie, the laws got changed to accommodate them. Seems the MOH’s recommendations in 2005 were overlooked: “Prior to the adoption of any new technological innovations proposed by the gaming industry, consideration should be given to their potential impact on problem gambling…”.
This 2007 study suggests online gambling will create even more problem gamblers:
“…the inherent nature of Internet gambling would seem to make it conducive to increasing the rates of problem gambling. …The increasing patronage of online gambling sites will also increase the actual numbers of problem gamblers in the general population.”
“The OLG’s current contribution to education, prevention and treatment is less than 1% of its total revenues of $6.5 billion. There’s no indication this tokenism will be replaced with a serious investment in curbing the social and economic impacts of gambling.”
Based on the accepted number of problem gamblers in Ontario, that divides out to between a high of $259 each person per year, to a low of $91.54 each. There are 52 agencies treating gambling in the province right now. Dividing $40 million by 52 and you get less than $750,000 a year per centre.
If people wish to gift the government their wages, they could just as easily mail the Minister of Finance a cheque every few weeks.
So how much does problem gambling cost, and is $40 million sufficient to counter the social and economic costs? Does the profit from gambling offset its cost? This is hugely complex and difficult to adequately measure, because are so many factors to take into account – medical, economic, social, legal, many of which are difficult to quantify, or may be intrinsically linked with other issues like substance abuse.
This PDF is a 24-page chapter of a larger US report on gambling, and it reviews numerous state studies. One such study that estimates that, in Wisconsin, there is a net benefit from gambling: “social costs represent about 42 percent of the economic gain…”
The OLG net benefit to the Province of Ontario is approximately $2 billion. In its strategic plan (pgs 3-4), the OLG has stated it wants to increase that contribution by $1.3 billion, to more than $3 billion a year by “modernizing” gambling (making it more “accessible” by increasing the opportunities and locations so more Ontarians gamble). For all their high and mighty words about social responsibility, to me, it looks like simply an outline of a plan to grab more money from our pockets.
If our social costs are roughly the same as Wisconsin’s, then 42% of $2 billion is $840 million. Subtracting the $40 million currently paid to problem gambling issues, problem gambling costs the province $800 million every year. At $3.1 billion, it will cost us $1.26 billion, assuming the OLG does not increase its contribution to problem gambling programs. Gambling is, if the situations are similar, profitable for the province in this comparison, but not nearly as much as we are led to believe: there are high social and economic costs not being disclosed.
In response to this plan to expand gambling, in its Winter 202 newsletter, the PGIC wrote,
Without question, this will increase the incidence of gambling problems and associated negative impacts, including harm to families and the community.
The OLG plan means that, more than ever, Ontario needs an accessible, skilled, comprehensive and well-resourced problem gambling (PG) treatment system.
However, nothing in the OLG strategic plan indicates to me a significant increase either in funding or treatment system. At the very least that a 50% increase in revenue should be matched by a 50% increase in funding. Or is the net income the only measure of success? The Toronto Star noted,
“…there is no indication that funding for education, addiction counselling and Trillium Foundation grants will be increased proportionately to the gambling universe that’s being created. It’s already inadequate.”
“…if a culture of responsibility is fostered in the decision making process, then decisions will be made taking into account the impact of any proposal on the treatment of problem gamblers, the provision of information to gamblers and the public on problem gambling and responsible gaming,the research that should precede the decision and whether an element of consumer protection is involved. Those involved in each component of the Strategy should have a role to play in contributing to initiatives that are designed to advance the minimization of potential harm from gambling activities. A culture of responsibility reaches out to other Ministries as well whose programs impact on problem-gambling issues.”
The OLG and the rest of the Ontario government seems to have overlooked that in the new strategic plan. They just want the money. Responsibility? No our job.
A study in Florida, described in that US report, used costs-per-problem-gambler “…calculated by Volberg (1994) of $13,600 on average per pathological or problem gambler.” That study looked into collateral costs such as prisons and increased pressure on the justice system to arrive at that figure. If Ontario is similar per-capita, the cost of problem gambling ranges between $2.1 and $5.9 billion a year. In this model, there is no net benefit from gambling revenues, just losses.
This 2007 study showed that the number of people with moderate to severe gambling problems is much higher than previously estimated. This is based on a sample size of 6,654 Ontarians. It found,
“…3.74% were moderate problem gamblers (CPGI = 3-7); and .99% were severe problem gamblers (CPGI = 8+), with an overall of prevalence of 4.73% for moderate and severe problem gamblers combined… this adjusted Ontario prevalence rate of 4.76% is significantly higher than two
previous Ontario prevalence studies: 3.8% obtained by Wiebe, Single, & Falkowski-Ham in 2001 and 2.0% obtained by the Canadian Community Household Survey (CCHS 1.2) for Ontario in 2002 (Statistics Canada, 2002).”
Sources of Revenue
The study also concluded that the OLG gets more than a third of its revenue from problem gamblers, but also that gambling machines (slots) take a higher proportion of that:
“Both the winsorized and losses-only data suggest that this proportion is approximately 36%… This evidence indicates that gambling machines and horse racing derive a much larger portion of their revenue from problem gamblers, in comparison to other forms of gambling. In rank order, the rough proportions are: 61% gambling machines; 45% horse racing; 32% casino table games; 22% bingo and raffles; and 18% lotteries, instant win, and Sports Select.”
Similar studies in the USA have reported this as well. Salon noted in a recent article:
“A significant portion of gambling revenues — one-third to one-half — is derived from problem gamblers, says Grinols, who, in a 2006 Review of Economics and Statistics article concluded that 8 percent of crime in casino counties can be attributed to the presence of legal gambling.”
The Canadian study recognizes that estimates of income are problematic because in their survey, only a small number of people who identified themselves as “severe” gamblers responded to the questions about gambling expenditures:
“Expenditures from the prospective diaries of 364 individuals tentatively indicates that about 36% of Ontario gambling revenue is derived from moderate and severe problem gamblers.”***
What I found most compelling about this figure is in the policy implications section near the end of the report (emphasis added):
“Thirty-six percent would be a problematic figure for private industry, but is especially problematic for a government-run operation, when the purpose of government is to serve the people, not to exploit the people.
…Ontario spends 13 times more money advertising and promoting gambling as they do on prevention and treatment (Williams, 2006). Furthermore, the $36 million put into gambling prevention, treatment and research in 2003/2004 only represents 2.6% of the $1.41 billion dollars estimated to have derived from problem gamblers in that time period. It is also far from clear whether gambling revenues represent true economic gain. Gambling revenues largely come from a transfer of wealth,rather than creation of wealth (e.g., Grinols, 2004). Furthermore, this is not an innocuous transfer, as it harms a significant minority of people (problem gamblers) in the process, and it tends to generate its revenue through the cannibalization or crowding-out of other (privately owned) 15 entertainment industries (e.g., Grinols, 2004).
There is another factor to consider when trying to estimate the economic impact of gambling: productivity loss. An Australian study found gambling was, overall, economically positive (for the government) but it recognized that it cost the Australian economy. Based on the loss of one hour per week per problem gambler:
“The study was able to “cost out” a number of factors associated with problem gambling. The effects of gambling on employment, consisting of job change costs, unemployment, and productivity loss, were estimated at A$27.8 million annually. The largest component of this estimate was productivity loss, accounting for almost A$20 million, followed by A$5.2 million for job change and A$2.7 million for unemployment.”
I’m not sure how they measure the economic value of lost productivity in this study. One simplistic way is to simply multiply the average hourly wage times the number of problem gamblers for the losses per week, then times 50 (allowing a two-week holiday per person) for the annual impact. If one hour per week is lost in Ontario, then based on 257,000 problem gamblers working at minimum wage ($10.25/hour), the resulting loss in productivity is about $132 million per year. If we use the upper end estimate (437,000 problem gamblers), and an average $15 an hour wage, the resulting loss is almost $328 million.
And what about suicide? The CMAJ article notes that, “problem gambling as a contributor to suicide is difficult to measure,” however, it does report an Alberta study that indicated gambling is a key factor in roughly 10% of suicides:
“In Alberta, gambling was listed “in the files” of suicides about 10% of the time; 46 out of a total of 482 suicides in 2001, and 54 out of 430 suicides in 2000.”
Can we quantify the impact of suicide? Not really. The emotional impact, however, is devastating to family and friends. Ontario has been been tracking gambling-related suicides since 1998 – there are on average five a year. The number may be higher because the method of identifying them is solely through a note left behind. The Globe & Mail reported 13 in 2007 and noted the number was rising, in part encouraged by casino tactics:
“A Globe and Mail investigation last fall revealed government-owned casinos are spending hundreds of millions of dollars on freebies – trips, dinners, theatre tickets – that keep gamblers coming back. Gambling debts have led to bankruptcies and even suicides.
Although there are no countrywide statistics, Canada Safety Council estimates 200 problem gamblers kill themselves every year. The Globe and Mail contacted each province to track the numbers of gambling-related suicides, finding only 50 such deaths were recorded in 2007 among the seven provinces reporting.”
Problem Gambling Institute of Ontario has a short FAQ on the potential impact of expanded gambling with many links to studies on gambling. In one called the Social and Economic Impact of Gambling, which tallies an objective view of both positive and negative effects, the authors write,
“One of the main negative impacts of gambling introduction is an increase in problem gambling and its related indices (e.g., bankruptcy, divorce, suicide, treatment numbers). The bulk of the impacts tend to be social/nonmonetary in nature because only the minority of problem gamblers seek or receive treatment, and only a minority typically have police/child welfare/employment involvement. Most of the increase in problem gambling occurs after the initial introduction of gambling, with progressively less impacts on problem gambling occurring with extended exposure… Research confirms that lower income people consistently contribute proportionally more of their income to gambling than do middle and high income groups (‘socioeconomic inequality’)…”
The report concludes that, gambling’s impact is a mix of good and bad, but that overall the good is limited, and not enough to fully offset the bad:
“…in most jurisdictions, in most time periods, the impacts of gambling tend to be mixed, with a range of mild positive economic impacts offset by a range of mild to moderate negative social impacts.”
My point here in this rambling (and incomplete) survey of the literature, is twofold:
The true costs of gambling are not being disclosed by the government or the OLG, while the benefits are being exaggerated;
Problem gamblers are contributing a significantly large portion to the OLG revenue, but also to the economic and social expenses caused by their gambling.
I’ll have more to post in the future, as we approach the debate at the council table (again). In a future post, I want to tackle the question of pork-barrel politics: what turns politicians into shills advocates for gambling? (It’s a story well, but partially, documented in the book, Betting the House, by Brian Hutchinson; it needs to be brought up to date). Does all the support for gambling and OLG’s planned expansion pass the smell test?
*The Fraser Institute, a right-wing think tank, framed the debate in 2002, ideologically: as one of “Individual freedom versus government paternalism.” It concludes as one might expect of conservatives, that social and economic impacts on individuals, families, or even communities, are not the concern of government:
“…the small number of people who are unable to control their gambling does not merit heavy-handed government intervention. Although there are socially harmful activities that require government intervention, gambling should not be considered one of those activities. Furthermore, those who become addicted to gambling rarely threaten the overall harmony of the community …”
The report concludes with a bit of Old Testament thunder:
“…intruding on gamblers’ liberties, prohibition makes a mockery of individual responsibility, which is hardly the best way to sustain the nation’s moral health.”
Ayn Rand must be smiling in her grave at that line.
** Gambling advocates like the OLG often use carefully chosen words to present gambling as entertainment. They call slot warehouses “gaming facilities” as if they were on a par with sports facilities. They don’t call them “gambling facilities.” Terms like “slot barns” annoy them. The Toronto Star calls them “…those windowless structures on the outskirts of cities, surrounded by huge parking lots.”
***The full disclaimer and explanation of the tentative results reads (emphasis added): Limitations of these Findings Regular gamblers occasionally have very large wins and losses. These statistical outliers have a major influence on the averages, making it very difficult with small sample sizes to establish what the “true” average expenditures are, so as to compare them with actual revenues. Realistically, there would have to be thousands of people completing prospective diaries from each of the four categories of gamblers to offset the impact of these outliers. The present study compensated for this by using winsorized data and data sets that eliminated winners. This is a reasonable but not perfect solution to this problem.
The proportion of revenue from severe problem gamblers is very tentative because of the small number of severe problem gamblers completing prospective diaries (n = 32). There is more certainty in the proportion derived from moderate and severe problem gamblers combined (n = 92). Similarly, the proportion of revenue derived from problem gamblers for particular forms of gambling is also tentative; not all problem gamblers participate in all forms of gambling and so some of these estimates are based on small sample sizes. It seems certain that gambling machines derive more revenue from problem gamblers then other forms of gambling. However, the actual portion for each form of gambling is less certain.
There is not a perfect match between reported expenditure and actual revenue for the prospective diaries. The total winsorized expenditures are 36% below actual revenues, and the losses-only total is 37% higher than actual revenues. This makes some sense considering that the largest expenditures have been winsorized in the former and all wins have been eliminated in the latter. On the other hand, it is also important to realize that the present study found gambling expenditure exaggeration and minimization to be equally common for all four types of gamblers, as evidenced by the uniformly low correlations between retrospective estimates and subsequent prospective diary amounts. The implication here is that if there is an over or underestimate of expenditures relative to revenues, it probably does not affect the proportion derived from problem gamblers because of equivalent exaggeration/minimization in each group.
A separate, Canada-wide, 2004 study on the percentage of revenue from problem gamblers is here. It notes:
“… the most meaningful figure is the proportion of revenue derived from problem gamblers averaged across all jurisdictions: 23.1%. …problem gamblers report a proportion of expenditure that is more than five times their proportion among the Canadian population.”
“…converging lines of evidence indicating that a substantial portion of gaming revenue derives from people who are negatively impacted by their involvement in this activity.”
I’ve spent much of the past few days putting online my book in which I assess and rewrite Niccolo Machiavelli’s famous (or infamous) work, The Prince, in a WordPress format. I wrote this book earlier this year, but was unable to find a publisher (I got distracted from my search). Maybe having it online will help.
The book slightly tops 69,000 words, has more than 400 quotations from The Prince and other works by Machiavelli, as well as from many other authors including Robert Greene, Nietzsche, Cicero, Sun Tzu, Han Fei Tzu, Napoleon and more. The majority of these were also transferred to the quote widget displayed on the sidebar of the pages for the online version.
There are 26 chapters that parallel Machiavelli’s own book, with ten additional chapters (addenda) including a bibliography, biography, and maxims from his Art of War. I slightly revised the work while copying the content over.
I’ve done some minor tweaks to the CSS code for improved display purposes (might do a bit more this week), and have a couple of things to add (like a background image and some additional header images). but the majority of the work (the core text and quotes) is complete.
The online version is a bit longer than the original because this week I added a new addendum today, called The Ten Faults, based on a part of Han Fei Tzu’s work, that I had written as a blog entry back in 2007 (as a studied criticism of the former mayor’s leadership that factionalized the former council). I revised that post to present a more generic comment on municipal governance and leadership (another post I wrote, in 2009, about leadership is here).
I have plans to release The Municipal Machiavelli as an e-book, or PDF, perhaps on iTunes, in the coming weeks. Please let me know if you’re interested in a copy.
When I hear a call for a public meeting, my first thought is to ask why we need it. Is the issue something that absolutely needs more public input above and beyond what is already widely available?
The following is a statement made verbally by Mayor Sandra Cooper, at Collingwood Council, Mon., Jan. 28, 2013. It explains the timeline of events between the Pretty River Academy and the Town of Collingwood. It should set the record straight and clear up the misinformation around this issue:
Background: In the mid-1970s, I owned a small bookstore in Toronto. Among my lines was a rather good selection of chess books. Unfortunately, I was a better chess player than business owner, and I eventually closed my store and sold my stock. The chess books went to Mr. Gameways, a game store on Bloor Street. I got along with its manager so well, that he offered me a job, and for the next couple of years I managed the board game floor. During that time, I got heavily immersed in board games, particularly war games; easily the most challenging, complicated and demanding type of game ever. Eventually I ended up writing for wargaming magazines, reviewing wargames and even playtesting a few (along with several attempts at designing).
As far back as I can recall, the term “tar baby” was a metaphor in common political parlance for a “sticky situation.” It has no racial meaning in that context, any more than saying “honey trap” or “sticky wicket.” Both have similar, but not synonymous meanings. But in the last decade, “tar-baby” has become the new N-word on the political stage.
Realistically, there would have to be thousands of people completing prospective diaries from each of the four categories of gamblers to offset the impact of these outliers. The present study compensated for this by using winsorized data and data sets that eliminated winners. This is a reasonable but not perfect solution to this problem.
I’ve spent much of the past few days putting online my book in which I assess and rewrite Niccolo Machiavelli’s famous (or infamous) work, The Prince, in a WordPress format. I wrote this book earlier this year, but was unable to find a publisher (I got distracted from my search). Maybe having it online will help.