It’s April fool’s day.
Looking at the lack of social distancing in parts of London, there are plenty about. To quote William Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night,
“Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents.”
I just hope and pray these variously talented folks don’t force others to pay for it with their lives.
With military assistance an incredible new 4,000 bed Nightingale hospital has been erected within just two weeks on the site of the Excel convention centre in east London. It is a feat to match anything China can do and I think it is worthy of much praise.
Up and down the country, parents have taken over the important job of educating their little ones.
I have no doubt that as the days of confinement roll on, this will involve getting their children to do educational activities that can be done quietly and alone so that mum or dad can get on with other things, like wine-tasting.
Playing alone, without the aid of a phone, x-box or other device is an important part of development and I’m sure that those sponge-like minds will create all manner imaginary worlds and means to keep themselves occupied, as we all did before the dawn of the new century. Who knows what hidden talents and innovations will come of this time.
For older teenagers, I hope that parents will teach them how to think.
I don’t mean swallowing a dictionary of logical fallacies, then popping up everywhere on social media saying , “that’s a Straw man,” (an intentionally misrepresented proposition, because it is easier to defeat than the real argument). Or
media favourite, ad hominem (attacking an argument by attacking the character of the person making it). Or husband’s favourite, Tu quoque (answering criticism with criticism) and politicians favourite – ambiguity (using double meaning or ambiguous language to avoid later accusations that you lied or deliberately mislead)
The reason there’s a whole lexicon of these things is that we all employ them and are rarely conscious of it when doing so.
I suppose I mean, critical thinking – that is, the objective analysis and evaluation of an issue in order to form a judgement. The key critical thinking skills are: analysis, interpretation, inference, explanation, self-regulation, open-mindedness, and problem-solving.
You also need wisdom and experience to work out who is telling the truth and to allow for error.
So for example, in deciding whether the Chinese communist government were in any way culpable for the spread of the coronavirus, by concealing information, one might look at the following evidence:
- The fact that the novel virus originated from the horseshoe bat.
- The fact that it originated in Wuhan where they have wet food markets and two viral research centres, near to the wet food market that carry out live testing on horseshoe bats.
- The fact that some doctors who tried to warn the world were silenced
- The fact that the WHO tweeted on 14/01/20 saying, ‘Preliminary investigations by the Chinese authorities have found no clear evidence of human-to-human transmission of the novel coronavirus (2019-nCoV) when we know this wasn’t true.
- A spokesman for China’s foreign ministry, Zhao LIjian put the blame on the USA saying “it might be the US army.”
It’s puzzling then that the media seem willing to accept China’s word for it on the number of deaths without caveat. Enough said.
Debating is another skill that helps us to form our arguments.
The ancient Persians used to debate everything twice, once sober and once once when drunk. I suppose, that way you teased out what someone really thought, without the filter of good manners.
Often we say the things we think we ought to say, not what we really think.
It is perhaps a terrible fault of mine that if you ask me a straight question, you will invariably get a straight and honest answer, no matter how it may offend your senses.
Yep, honestly, for me, is always the best policy, except perhaps to the question “does my bum look big in this?”
I’d probably make a terrible politician.
I read a very long article today about case fatality rates and various attempts to model the data to inform our national response.
After hearing of a lot of inconsistencies and variations and whataboutery it concluded…
‘be forgiving of the modellers who are desperately trying to make life-changing, history-changing decisions at high speed and with bad data.’
And quoting, Mervyn King, former governor of the Bank of England, it says,
‘Many experts have come to believe that mathematical calculations and computer modelling provide us with an authoritative representation of reality.’
Experience tells us that any model can be spectacularly wrong and that we need to discern who are the ‘experts’ that can be trusted and who cannot.
In a move likely to demoralise an already exhausted NHS, Rick Astley has announced his intention to play a free gig for NHS and emergency workers at the end of the pandemic. I’m never going to give you up, Rick x
On another subject altogether, I was reading about a 16th Century Spanish Nun, named Teresa of Ávila, who, talking on the subject of contemplative prayer, described it as ‘the prayer of quiet and intimate sharing between friends’
I like the sound of that. A sort of conversation of being together that requires no speech. With two ladies in my house this is tricky.
At that very moment, Michelle, who has been like a cat on a hot tin roof, burst into my vision – again – to update me on the biggest daily rise of Coronavirus deaths, so far, at 563.
My moment of contemplation, like so many others of late, evaporated.
Attaining anything like the peace that passeth understanding is simply beyond all comprehension at the moment.
My desire to be alone with my thoughts has been frustrated again and again.
Every time I try to read or begin to listen to something, there are interruptions.
The coffee machine is switched on making that irritating chugging noise. Or someone rustles in the cupboard for another packet of crisps to relieve the boredom. Or Frank is on the phone again, to tell me what he told me yesterday and the day before.
I usually spend at least a small portion of my day in quiet contemplation. I’ve always done it. Michelle has often mistaken it for rudeness or me deliberately ignoring her, but it was always that.
It’s not like thinking about anything in particular but simply listening to the birdsong, watching the clouds or gazing up at the night sky in awe. Until I was permanently under house-arrest with my family, I hadn’t quite appreciated how valuable this time is to my daily routine and my sanity.
It’s cold and overcast today and I can’t even retreat into the back garden.