Racism carries with it a negative connotation, that one brand of humans wrongly considers themselves better than another because of the color of their skin or some other hard-wired distinction between peoples. Well, Humpty Dumpty knows full well that a word means whatever you say it means, and for the purposes of this article, I define racism as neither good nor bad. It is the process of recognizing the differences between groups of people. It is an analytical, rational, statistical process with no stigma good or bad attached to it.
Take the case of basketball. There is a reason for the movie “White Guys Can’t Jump”. Generally, whites have a lesser developed set of butt and leg muscles than blacks, so they can’t elevate as well toward the rim.
“Generally” has its own definition as well. It means most or a lot or enough to make a point.
Westerners and Filipinos have differing characteristics as well, passed genetically along, one generation to the next. Throw in Arabs and we really have something to talk about. It has nothing to do with butt muscles, but with the way the brain breaks down facts and aspires to knowledge, the iterations or processes it goes through to align thoughts.
Western thinking is deductive, building to greater knowledge from a set of observed facts. Westerners are really good at solving problems.
Filipino thinking is inductive, taking greater knowledge and mashing it up into a pile of reactive nonsense.
Arab thinking is emotional and chaotic and wholly incapable of harmony with anything at all.
Western thinking strives to understand its own behavior, the whys and wherefores of emotions and what motivates us to act as we do. It appreciates change. It is modern. Filipino thinking is strictly defensive, Ego-bound and locked into itself. Filipino thinking is hostile to any change. So you have an idea of why the Philippines is stuck in 1945. Arab thinking is loaded with logic that is bullshit in disguise. It is impossible to nail anything down or decide anything or depend on anyone or anything. That’s why Arabs generally are still running around loud and wild-eyed, looking for people to nail to the cross or blow out of skyscrapers.
At least the Philippines got to 1945.
That’s as far as I’ve gotten on this line of deductive thought. I’ll leave the rest up to you to figure out, based on your racially determined inclination to do so. Or not.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Puppets and the Ilk of Ilda
Prowling through a reread of Tom Clancy’s novel “Red Storm Rising”, I was struck by his description of the Russian power complex of the 1980’s. The Red empire was no longer run by an individual strong man like Stalin, but by committees and commissioners in which the President was mainly a public face, for his hands were tied by all the deals he struck to become the President. The country was actually run by whoever could muster the most support in the conference rooms of the influential.
Clancy’s most worthy observation was that the President’s power was constrained by all the compromises he had to make to become President.
It is a characterization that fits well in Philippine democracy where the driver is not public service but collectives of self-interest and power.
President Aquino is more puppet than master, making compromises to this influential group or that: the Catholic Church, big business oligarchs, military leaders, the US of A, public perception as measured by polls, family and personal friends.
Those who would criticize President Aquino’s goof-ups or flip-flops or weak decisions are wasting their energy. It would be wiser to criticize the influential forces that motivate him, or else band together with others to form a new influential force. You can shout all you want into the face of Elmer Snerd, but he is just a well-carved hunk of wood with a human’s hand in his back. The puppet himself is immune to criticism.
If you try to attack “Willing Willie” the person, you become water off the duck’s flamboyant back feathers. His super-sized Ego protects him. However, if you attack the influential forces behind him – the advertisers of the show – things happen. Willie’s Ego can’t defend against that.
The President of the Philippines is just a cog in the democratic machine. He is not the gas pedal or the brake or the steering wheel. As a cog, he is made of stout material, rust free. He is good for the Philippines.
Those who bluster in frustration and bludgeon the President with words fail to see how the system works. These critics are naïve’ and ineffective, the very same weaknesses they ascribe to President Aquino.
They would get more done by going after the puppeteers . . . the drivers . . . the influences behind the President. Given their self-proclaimed insight, these critics ought to have a better grasp of the dynamics that make the Philippine presidency what it is.
Even predecessor Arroyo bowed to the puppeteers: her husband, the Church, President Obama, and eventually a group of Senators who would not countenance her messing with the Constitution.
Critics of the President generally don’t have a clue about how to effect change in the Philippines. They are just flapping their gums in the wind, beating madly on a big windmill with small twigs, whistling Dixie in Georgia.
Clancy’s most worthy observation was that the President’s power was constrained by all the compromises he had to make to become President.
It is a characterization that fits well in Philippine democracy where the driver is not public service but collectives of self-interest and power.
President Aquino is more puppet than master, making compromises to this influential group or that: the Catholic Church, big business oligarchs, military leaders, the US of A, public perception as measured by polls, family and personal friends.
Those who would criticize President Aquino’s goof-ups or flip-flops or weak decisions are wasting their energy. It would be wiser to criticize the influential forces that motivate him, or else band together with others to form a new influential force. You can shout all you want into the face of Elmer Snerd, but he is just a well-carved hunk of wood with a human’s hand in his back. The puppet himself is immune to criticism.
If you try to attack “Willing Willie” the person, you become water off the duck’s flamboyant back feathers. His super-sized Ego protects him. However, if you attack the influential forces behind him – the advertisers of the show – things happen. Willie’s Ego can’t defend against that.
The President of the Philippines is just a cog in the democratic machine. He is not the gas pedal or the brake or the steering wheel. As a cog, he is made of stout material, rust free. He is good for the Philippines.
Those who bluster in frustration and bludgeon the President with words fail to see how the system works. These critics are naïve’ and ineffective, the very same weaknesses they ascribe to President Aquino.
They would get more done by going after the puppeteers . . . the drivers . . . the influences behind the President. Given their self-proclaimed insight, these critics ought to have a better grasp of the dynamics that make the Philippine presidency what it is.
Even predecessor Arroyo bowed to the puppeteers: her husband, the Church, President Obama, and eventually a group of Senators who would not countenance her messing with the Constitution.
Critics of the President generally don’t have a clue about how to effect change in the Philippines. They are just flapping their gums in the wind, beating madly on a big windmill with small twigs, whistling Dixie in Georgia.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Born Again Filipino
JoeAm’s arrogant but marvelously simple five-step method of becoming a born-again Filipino:
1. Always carry a book and read it in public even if your friends try to insult you for being a “librarian”. Help interject the pride of being smart into Philippine culture, driving out the macho pride of tuba-swilling cock fights and the bimbo pride of show-biz glitz and gossip.
2. When a friend hurts himself, ask if he is okay rather than laugh. Practice the art of caring about other people’s pain or circumstance. The English word is compassion.
3. Shoot your dog or pen it up so that it is no longer a risk to motorcyclists, no longer infests neighborhood kids with fleas, and no longer poops and pisses where others walk. Practice thinking and acting for the well-being of others.
4. When someone else tosses a plastic wrapper to the sidewalk, pick it up and stuff it in your pocket for proper disposal later. You need say nothing, for the picture is strikingly clear. You care about the Philippines.
5. When you are driving, yield to pedestrians who have entered the crosswalk; ignore those who honk at you or blast impatiently past, for they are rude and inconsiderate souls, a stark representation of what Filipinos should strive not to be.
I’m not saying this is easy. It is very, very hard.
But through these simple, difficult steps, you will become a person of principle instead of a person of convenience. You will be born again.
When enough Filipinos care about something other than their own advantage, the Philippines will become a nation of conscience, a nation of thought and thoughtfulness, a nation of accomplishment. The nation will become richer of soul and richer of treasure.
1. Always carry a book and read it in public even if your friends try to insult you for being a “librarian”. Help interject the pride of being smart into Philippine culture, driving out the macho pride of tuba-swilling cock fights and the bimbo pride of show-biz glitz and gossip.
2. When a friend hurts himself, ask if he is okay rather than laugh. Practice the art of caring about other people’s pain or circumstance. The English word is compassion.
3. Shoot your dog or pen it up so that it is no longer a risk to motorcyclists, no longer infests neighborhood kids with fleas, and no longer poops and pisses where others walk. Practice thinking and acting for the well-being of others.
4. When someone else tosses a plastic wrapper to the sidewalk, pick it up and stuff it in your pocket for proper disposal later. You need say nothing, for the picture is strikingly clear. You care about the Philippines.
5. When you are driving, yield to pedestrians who have entered the crosswalk; ignore those who honk at you or blast impatiently past, for they are rude and inconsiderate souls, a stark representation of what Filipinos should strive not to be.
I’m not saying this is easy. It is very, very hard.
But through these simple, difficult steps, you will become a person of principle instead of a person of convenience. You will be born again.
When enough Filipinos care about something other than their own advantage, the Philippines will become a nation of conscience, a nation of thought and thoughtfulness, a nation of accomplishment. The nation will become richer of soul and richer of treasure.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
When Child Abuse is Acceptable
It is acceptable to father a child then run off to another city because you don’t want to pay for raising the kid. Who cares if the kid lives his whole life knowing he was not wanted?
It is acceptable to have a kid and farm him out to Granny or Auntie or Sister’s cousin rather than personally nurture his young life. Who cares if the kid understands that he was not worth his mother’s trouble?
It is acceptable to plop a kid in front of the TV where he can watch skimpily clad girls gyrate sexily, and never sit down with him to show him the joys of reading a book. Who cares if the kid is never given a chance to achieve his educational potential?
It is acceptable to have another kid, in addition to the eight now on hand, to make sure there is another laborer – at age nine - available to earn (or steal or beg for) money for the rice, the tuba and the lotto. Who cares about child exploitation?
It is acceptable to teach a child to follow rules and obey those in power and never display the impertinence of thinking for himself. Who cares if the child never learns about ambition and creativity and achievement?
It is acceptable not to care whether or not a child is grieving inside. Who cares if he is miserable and angry all the way into his adult years?
These abuses are common in the Philippines; they are widely accepted without protest. The Catholic Church encourages the conditions that lead to abuse. The government sanctions abuse by failing to stop it. The schools teach lock-step obedience instead of healthy self-esteem. Parents participate in the abuse by offering up every excuse in the book to avoid responsibility for it.
It is acceptable to have a kid and farm him out to Granny or Auntie or Sister’s cousin rather than personally nurture his young life. Who cares if the kid understands that he was not worth his mother’s trouble?
It is acceptable to plop a kid in front of the TV where he can watch skimpily clad girls gyrate sexily, and never sit down with him to show him the joys of reading a book. Who cares if the kid is never given a chance to achieve his educational potential?
It is acceptable to have another kid, in addition to the eight now on hand, to make sure there is another laborer – at age nine - available to earn (or steal or beg for) money for the rice, the tuba and the lotto. Who cares about child exploitation?
It is acceptable to teach a child to follow rules and obey those in power and never display the impertinence of thinking for himself. Who cares if the child never learns about ambition and creativity and achievement?
It is acceptable not to care whether or not a child is grieving inside. Who cares if he is miserable and angry all the way into his adult years?
These abuses are common in the Philippines; they are widely accepted without protest. The Catholic Church encourages the conditions that lead to abuse. The government sanctions abuse by failing to stop it. The schools teach lock-step obedience instead of healthy self-esteem. Parents participate in the abuse by offering up every excuse in the book to avoid responsibility for it.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Faith–Based Lunacy
When faith concocts a reality that is separate from reason, why is that not considered lunacy?
Craziness is a departure from normal behavior. It is behavior that roams a couple of standard deviations from the mean. Most would consider it normal to see facts as facts, to recognize false patterns and to discern right from wrong. But faith asks us to deny such thinking.
Mathematicians can overlay probability statistics on events, like what is the probability that a guy can live more than two minutes in the belly of a whale or that I’ll get a bunch of virgins in heaven if I blow some heathen enemy to bits along with myself. God thinks in mere human terms and wears a beard? Or that an apple full of enlightenment woke man to his essential nakedness?
Faith denies common sense. It denies mathematics.
If these tales are to be taken as allegory, how do I discern truth? Do I listen to the pastor or preacher or imam or rabbi or priest and take his very humanly word for it? After all, these are the guys with the strength of character to bong the choir boys, burn heathens at the stake or otherwise tread God’s earthly planet in an earthy way once they slip away from God’s mighty pulpit.
The church is confined by doctrine written centuries ago when celibacy was considered Godly and birth control devices did not exist. Celibacy was an example to the masses of the Greatest Birth Control Device of All Time, denial.
Now, the flood of babies is slamming humanity against the wall of limited resources, and the church cries out, “Don’t stop! It is good.” Never mind the lack of food and suffering, the millions of unwanted children, the coat-hanger abortions, all the tears of Mankind. God is good.
Lunacy.
Alas, no matter how you cut it, right and wrong are circumstantial, defined by whomever you cede your mind to. In one faith, it is correct to stone women, in another it is not. In one faith, it is correct to condemn those who would wear a condom or drink coffee, in another, no problem.
When the foundation of right and wrong is slippery, people concoct a made-up set of rules for their behavior. Tie the rigid rules to stubborn blindness and unrestrained emotions and we end up with the chaos now seen around the globe. Inflexibility in the name of faith. Intolerance. Anger. Guns and bombs and a gross failure to simply talk to one another. Rather than dealing forthrightly and intelligently with real problems . . . like people having nothing to eat, or global warming, or disappearing resources . . . we fall on our knees and pray to some imaginary almighty Dude for help.
Faith enflames our basest inclinations; it does not calm them.
What a sorry bunch of schmucks we are, failing to take responsibility for the havoc that we wreak upon the planet. Failing to rein in our emotions.
I believe God exists. But He would be a Schmuck, too, if He granted us robust brainpower then sent us to Hell for using it to think rationally.
I have more confidence in Him than man’s churches do.
To me, life is about discipline and honesty and hard work and accepting responsibility for outcomes. It is not about stumbling along on some faith-based cloud wishing and hoping, blaming Satan or the neighbor, or begging from God or the neighbor. It is not to deny responsibility, thereby making ourselves small; it is to live large by accepting responsibility.
Craziness is a departure from normal behavior. It is behavior that roams a couple of standard deviations from the mean. Most would consider it normal to see facts as facts, to recognize false patterns and to discern right from wrong. But faith asks us to deny such thinking.
Mathematicians can overlay probability statistics on events, like what is the probability that a guy can live more than two minutes in the belly of a whale or that I’ll get a bunch of virgins in heaven if I blow some heathen enemy to bits along with myself. God thinks in mere human terms and wears a beard? Or that an apple full of enlightenment woke man to his essential nakedness?
Faith denies common sense. It denies mathematics.
If these tales are to be taken as allegory, how do I discern truth? Do I listen to the pastor or preacher or imam or rabbi or priest and take his very humanly word for it? After all, these are the guys with the strength of character to bong the choir boys, burn heathens at the stake or otherwise tread God’s earthly planet in an earthy way once they slip away from God’s mighty pulpit.
The church is confined by doctrine written centuries ago when celibacy was considered Godly and birth control devices did not exist. Celibacy was an example to the masses of the Greatest Birth Control Device of All Time, denial.
Now, the flood of babies is slamming humanity against the wall of limited resources, and the church cries out, “Don’t stop! It is good.” Never mind the lack of food and suffering, the millions of unwanted children, the coat-hanger abortions, all the tears of Mankind. God is good.
Lunacy.
Alas, no matter how you cut it, right and wrong are circumstantial, defined by whomever you cede your mind to. In one faith, it is correct to stone women, in another it is not. In one faith, it is correct to condemn those who would wear a condom or drink coffee, in another, no problem.
When the foundation of right and wrong is slippery, people concoct a made-up set of rules for their behavior. Tie the rigid rules to stubborn blindness and unrestrained emotions and we end up with the chaos now seen around the globe. Inflexibility in the name of faith. Intolerance. Anger. Guns and bombs and a gross failure to simply talk to one another. Rather than dealing forthrightly and intelligently with real problems . . . like people having nothing to eat, or global warming, or disappearing resources . . . we fall on our knees and pray to some imaginary almighty Dude for help.
Faith enflames our basest inclinations; it does not calm them.
What a sorry bunch of schmucks we are, failing to take responsibility for the havoc that we wreak upon the planet. Failing to rein in our emotions.
I believe God exists. But He would be a Schmuck, too, if He granted us robust brainpower then sent us to Hell for using it to think rationally.
I have more confidence in Him than man’s churches do.
To me, life is about discipline and honesty and hard work and accepting responsibility for outcomes. It is not about stumbling along on some faith-based cloud wishing and hoping, blaming Satan or the neighbor, or begging from God or the neighbor. It is not to deny responsibility, thereby making ourselves small; it is to live large by accepting responsibility.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Do Unto Me
I have been trying to understand the differences between western and Filipino cultures. I have stepped back a pace from outright criticism of Filipino ways and means, for it seems to me presumptuous to think that all cultures should emulate the American culture that frames my perspectives.
It is clear that Filipino Ego is the bottom line determinant of so many behaviors here. Whereas the Golden Rule – “do unto others as you would have them do unto you” – drives the courtesy and consideration most westerners grant to others, it is a rule that simply is not prominent in the Philippines.
Filipinos everywhere are motivated by, driven by, personal advantage.
Take the routine lawbreaking that occurs here every day. Skirting the law for personal gain is not condemned. Indeed, people brag about what they get away with. They gain face by cheating and lose face only if caught. The Filipino Ego defines right and wrong not as society’s right and wrong, but as right and wrong in terms of personal power or advantage. The law is society’s definition and it is irrelevant if personal advantage can be gained by ignoring it or circumventing it.
This sentence bears repeating: “The Filipino Ego defines right and wrong not as society’s right and wrong, but as right and wrong in terms of personal power or advantage.”
Therein resides the foundation of broad scale corruption, of over-fishing, of chopping down forests illegally, of lack of courtesy on the roads, of tossing trash in the neighbor’s yard or blasting karaoke into their ears until dawn. Therein lies the stark difference between a community-oriented western culture and a self-engaged Filipino culture.
Right and wrong exist in the Philippines in terms of self-advantage, not in terms of what helps others, what brings about an orderly society, what brings about a productive society.
So what is an outsider to do? Forget about the golden rule and wield all the power his wealth permits? Trample on others? Honk them out of the way on the roads? Treat workers with little mercy, paying them a pittance and working them like dogs? Disregard his neighbors in all things: noise, smoke, pissing in plain view?
It is hard to go there. It really is.
Right.
Wrong.
They get turned upside down here, inside out – not in terms of American culture, but in terms of what is good for most Filipinos. Given that government largely sets the tone . . . after all, government officials represent the leadership . . . it is easy to flay them with contempt. So I will . . .
The notion of public good in the Philippines is fantasy, it is bull shit, vended by leaders with little capacity to put themselves into the shoes of those who have less power. When the dominant driving force is “what’s in it for me?”, you can hardly expect actions to occur that are for the good of the community.
Filipinos admire heroes, yet the country’s leaders behave exactly the opposite of how a real hero would behave. What is the opposite of a national hero? You figure out the correct description, for I don’t wish to be that rude.
All I know is that, if I succumb to the culture here, I don’t ever have to put myself out for anybody who has less power than me. I can just emulate the leaders hereabouts. Me first. Everyone else . . . I’ll deal with you when I’m ready . . .
As for those with more power . . . I hide relentlessly . . . duck, dodge, ignore, play victim, offer up every excuse in the arsenal . . .
Just like a real Filipino.
It is clear that Filipino Ego is the bottom line determinant of so many behaviors here. Whereas the Golden Rule – “do unto others as you would have them do unto you” – drives the courtesy and consideration most westerners grant to others, it is a rule that simply is not prominent in the Philippines.
Filipinos everywhere are motivated by, driven by, personal advantage.
Take the routine lawbreaking that occurs here every day. Skirting the law for personal gain is not condemned. Indeed, people brag about what they get away with. They gain face by cheating and lose face only if caught. The Filipino Ego defines right and wrong not as society’s right and wrong, but as right and wrong in terms of personal power or advantage. The law is society’s definition and it is irrelevant if personal advantage can be gained by ignoring it or circumventing it.
This sentence bears repeating: “The Filipino Ego defines right and wrong not as society’s right and wrong, but as right and wrong in terms of personal power or advantage.”
Therein resides the foundation of broad scale corruption, of over-fishing, of chopping down forests illegally, of lack of courtesy on the roads, of tossing trash in the neighbor’s yard or blasting karaoke into their ears until dawn. Therein lies the stark difference between a community-oriented western culture and a self-engaged Filipino culture.
Right and wrong exist in the Philippines in terms of self-advantage, not in terms of what helps others, what brings about an orderly society, what brings about a productive society.
So what is an outsider to do? Forget about the golden rule and wield all the power his wealth permits? Trample on others? Honk them out of the way on the roads? Treat workers with little mercy, paying them a pittance and working them like dogs? Disregard his neighbors in all things: noise, smoke, pissing in plain view?
It is hard to go there. It really is.
Right.
Wrong.
They get turned upside down here, inside out – not in terms of American culture, but in terms of what is good for most Filipinos. Given that government largely sets the tone . . . after all, government officials represent the leadership . . . it is easy to flay them with contempt. So I will . . .
The notion of public good in the Philippines is fantasy, it is bull shit, vended by leaders with little capacity to put themselves into the shoes of those who have less power. When the dominant driving force is “what’s in it for me?”, you can hardly expect actions to occur that are for the good of the community.
Filipinos admire heroes, yet the country’s leaders behave exactly the opposite of how a real hero would behave. What is the opposite of a national hero? You figure out the correct description, for I don’t wish to be that rude.
All I know is that, if I succumb to the culture here, I don’t ever have to put myself out for anybody who has less power than me. I can just emulate the leaders hereabouts. Me first. Everyone else . . . I’ll deal with you when I’m ready . . .
As for those with more power . . . I hide relentlessly . . . duck, dodge, ignore, play victim, offer up every excuse in the arsenal . . .
Just like a real Filipino.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Latin 9.0, the World Language
Our security is tied to that which is familiar. Our home, friends, family, country, cultural traditions, language. Some people like to explore and travel, to move outside that which is comfortable; some prefer the warmth of home. Some people like to jump out of airplanes; some think that is nuts.
The Philippines has been locked at home for centuries. How do you get an entire nation to explore, to set aside the past, to jump? To let go? To feel secure whilst letting go?
It seems to me that Filipinos have to arrive at an understanding that letting go is the safest way, the warmest way, the most thrilling way. They don’t need street riots or guns. They need to jump intellectually, and culturally.
Let’s consider the ongoing debate in the Philippines about English. During the colonial period, use of English became important. A while back, it was yanked from the main school curriculum. Then it was put back. Almost everyone in the Philippines speaks a little English. A great many are fluent. It is the language in which government documents are written.
But adopting English as THE official language is a large leap and bound away because the idea crashes headlong against Filipino pride, Filipino heritage, Filipino independence. Filipino security.
Actually, to call the language spoken by America, Great Britain, Canada, Australia, half of the Philippines and most of the commercial world as “English” is itself a part of the problem. I prefer to think of this language as “Latin 9.0, the World Language”. It is a language that is not owned by the English, or the Americans. It originates predominantly in Greek and Latin, but has merged and morphed along the centuries as it has met and been shaped by new words and new cultures. Technology has introduced many new words over the past 30 years. The World Language is spoken just about everywhere.
The difficulty and the beauty of the World Language is its stunning complexity. The exceptions outnumber the rules; that makes it hard to learn. The beauty is you can express complexities and subtleties better than in any other language in the world. You can describe pictures in stunning terms not found in other languages; they have to borrow from the World Language to complete their context. That drives purists, like the French, mad.
You can innovate and build better with the World Language than with any other dialect.
Complex. Subtle. Broad. Useful.
The World Language is the great enabler of innovation and commerce and cross-cultural meetings of the mind.
The World Language is not American.
For sure it is not.
The World Language belongs to anyone who speaks it. It belongs to Filipinos. Filipinos speak it well, and are enlarged for it. They are in no way diminished for having the ability to speak in elegant or complex terms.
I personally think the driving vision of the Philippines should be to become a world class nation. To become relevant in the world community. There is security in that, and excitement. There is nothing to be gained by remaining an orphan, a woe begotten child with no direction and who still needs his ratty Tagalog “blanky” for security. There is nothing to be gained by holding anger toward old colonialists who, frankly, have less and less interest in the Philippines every year.
Security is to be found by leaping past those nations that are bound by dialects that do not serve them well at all.
The Philippines already has a head start. It would be tragic to go back to a dialect that no one else in the world speaks. It would be foolish to continue to muddle along debating the pros and cons of English. It would be wise to leverage one’s existing strength to get even stronger, and to embrace the World Language – not English or American language – as the Philippine national language.
The official language of the Philippines should be the World Language.
The Philippines should take pride that it is a skilled speaker of the World Language and move out into the bright, secure, warm, exciting light with a voice that means something.
The Philippines has been locked at home for centuries. How do you get an entire nation to explore, to set aside the past, to jump? To let go? To feel secure whilst letting go?
It seems to me that Filipinos have to arrive at an understanding that letting go is the safest way, the warmest way, the most thrilling way. They don’t need street riots or guns. They need to jump intellectually, and culturally.
Let’s consider the ongoing debate in the Philippines about English. During the colonial period, use of English became important. A while back, it was yanked from the main school curriculum. Then it was put back. Almost everyone in the Philippines speaks a little English. A great many are fluent. It is the language in which government documents are written.
But adopting English as THE official language is a large leap and bound away because the idea crashes headlong against Filipino pride, Filipino heritage, Filipino independence. Filipino security.
Actually, to call the language spoken by America, Great Britain, Canada, Australia, half of the Philippines and most of the commercial world as “English” is itself a part of the problem. I prefer to think of this language as “Latin 9.0, the World Language”. It is a language that is not owned by the English, or the Americans. It originates predominantly in Greek and Latin, but has merged and morphed along the centuries as it has met and been shaped by new words and new cultures. Technology has introduced many new words over the past 30 years. The World Language is spoken just about everywhere.
The difficulty and the beauty of the World Language is its stunning complexity. The exceptions outnumber the rules; that makes it hard to learn. The beauty is you can express complexities and subtleties better than in any other language in the world. You can describe pictures in stunning terms not found in other languages; they have to borrow from the World Language to complete their context. That drives purists, like the French, mad.
You can innovate and build better with the World Language than with any other dialect.
Complex. Subtle. Broad. Useful.
The World Language is the great enabler of innovation and commerce and cross-cultural meetings of the mind.
The World Language is not American.
For sure it is not.
The World Language belongs to anyone who speaks it. It belongs to Filipinos. Filipinos speak it well, and are enlarged for it. They are in no way diminished for having the ability to speak in elegant or complex terms.
I personally think the driving vision of the Philippines should be to become a world class nation. To become relevant in the world community. There is security in that, and excitement. There is nothing to be gained by remaining an orphan, a woe begotten child with no direction and who still needs his ratty Tagalog “blanky” for security. There is nothing to be gained by holding anger toward old colonialists who, frankly, have less and less interest in the Philippines every year.
Security is to be found by leaping past those nations that are bound by dialects that do not serve them well at all.
The Philippines already has a head start. It would be tragic to go back to a dialect that no one else in the world speaks. It would be foolish to continue to muddle along debating the pros and cons of English. It would be wise to leverage one’s existing strength to get even stronger, and to embrace the World Language – not English or American language – as the Philippine national language.
The official language of the Philippines should be the World Language.
The Philippines should take pride that it is a skilled speaker of the World Language and move out into the bright, secure, warm, exciting light with a voice that means something.
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