Behind-the-scenes of The Missive #3
Triage decisions are terrifying plus what I'm reading, watching and listening to now
Hello subscribers,
Last month I launched new content options for paid subscribers. Subscriptions are available for those who want to receive bonus content (and support my writing) monthly or for a discounted rate annually.
Don’t worry, my weekly irrational report on the UCP will continue to be free for everyone, for always!
What will you receive as a paid subscriber?
Since I spend so many hours every week doing background reading and writing before actually releasing my newsletter, I thought I may as well share some of that work. This reading and thinking shapes my approach to the final newsletter.
I’ll also curate some other content that I find inspiring and may be informing my opinions each week. This week, for example, I read a study on gender and politics, watched a documentary about Bitcoin mining, and listened to a podcast about the spooky secret life of Canadian PM Mackenzie King.
This small subscription fee will also support my eventual transition to retirement in the next few years and potentially help me with several writing projects I am exploring, including my experiences behind-the-scenes in the oilsands industry as a PR person, in the political backrooms at all three levels of government here in Alberta and in my experiences with activism while living in Okotoks in the early 2000’s. I will also test excerpts with my paid subscribers in order to receive feedback.
This week I’m including an excerpt from my journal about leaving home in the late 1970’s to move to Fort McMurray.
And I’ll share some of my photos you may not have seen anywhere else.
The subscriber posts will not necessarily come out on a regular schedule but on an occasional basis, depending on the number of subscribers. My goal is to write these several times monthly, probably depending on the season (and the weather, let’s be honest - I like being outdoors biking a lot!)
So, here’s a free sample. These will be available ONLY to subscribers soon. It you’d like to join as a paid subscriber, hit this button up. If you’re not already a subscriber, why not join for free to see if you like it.
Thoughts ahead of this week’s newsletter:
As Hurricane Ida descended on Louisiana, I was filled with dread as I had just re-read this award-winning account of what happened during Hurricane Katrina published by ProPublica and The New York Times Magazine in August of 2009.
Now, with Alberta facing its own triage crisis as COVID-19 devastates people’s lives and pushes our healthcare system to the brink of collapse, this absolutely harrowing story (later turned into a book) is a must read.
The original article details how doctors and nurses raced against the clock to determine how to triage and evacuate patients after Katrina knocked out power to the Memorial Medical Center in New Orleans, as flooding surrounded and isolated the building. The incident left 18 patients dead after the decision was taken to give painkillers and sedatives, effectively euthanizing them.
You may shudder to think about it, but this is what our doctors and nurses are being asked to contemplate due to mistakes made this past June by Premier Kenney, Health Minister Tyler Shandro and the Chief Medical Officer of Health, Dr. Deena Hinshaw. Mistakes that have not yet been acknowledged as Kenney rescinded his first attempt at an apology within minutes by saying he was not sorry for the decision to “open for summer,” only for saying Alberta was “open for good.”
This is a distinction without a difference, as they say. Both are the result of poor decision-making in light of abundant evidence and some have even suggested there may be criminal negligence.
Highly recommend reading what triaging care actually involves. It’s a long one, but worth it.
https://dartcenter.org/content/deadly-choices-at-memorial
Featured image:
Sun just peaking out between the highrises
Reading:
There’s a new study out online from Cambridge University Press by Angela L. Bos, Jill S. Greenlee, Mirya R. Holman, Zoe M. Oxley and J. Celeste Lay. The report is called, “This One’s for the Boys: How Gendered Political Socialization Limits Girls’ Political Ambition and Interest.”
They studied 1,604 American children to determine how they perceive gender in politics and the consequences of those perceptions in political interest and ambition. It’s perhaps not surprising to find that children perceive politics to be male-dominated and as the children start to internalize gendered expectations, the effect is that girls and women turn away from politics.
The study looks at both gender socialization and political socialization, then considers the combined impact of the two. The study finds political socialization is, in itself, highly biased towards stereotypical male traits.
“…media coverage confirms that men hold most political leadership roles in the United States (Center for American Women and Politics 2021); shows that these men engage in power-seeking behaviors as opposed to collaborative, cooperative, and communal-oriented behaviors (Schneider et al. 2016); and characterizes conflict, scandal, and gridlock as central features of the political process.”
It’s also interesting to note the research parallels findings on gender and STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering and Math).
“Agents of both gender and political socialization reinforce children’s perceptions of politics as a masculine domain, where political roles afford opportunities to achieve agentic but not communal goals (Schneider et al. 2016), political institutions are “strongly associated with men and masculinity” (Duerst-Lahti 2006, 15), and an “embedded masculinity” is present in electoral politics (Dittmar 2015, 6).”
So, what are we to do with these findings? The answer is clear. We cannot continue to try to force a gendered system onto individuals who don’t fit – or want to fit – the stereotype. We must change the system.
We have to elect those who are willing to remove the barriers for others, not those who are satisfied with the status quo. We won’t be able to remove those power-seeking behaviours completely, but we should be able to make them less of a dominating feature. We need to open the door to more collaborative, cooperative and communal-oriented thinking.
To do this, we may have to dismantle some structural limitations, but in the process we can open up new opportunities.
Research like this shows us the way forward, if we’re willing to listen.
Watching:
I’ve been doing some research into Bitcoin mining for a short piece I’m writing and watched a new “documentary” (more of a promotional video) called “This Machine Greens.”
It just came out on September 14, 2021 and tells the story of the complex relationship between currency and energy, making the case for cryptocurrency as a means to break away from fossil fuel to greener energy sources.
British filmmaker Jamie King, of “Steal This Film” fame, explains in an easy-to-understand format, the history of money and its entanglement with energy, especially fossil fuels. Cryptocurrencies are under fire lately for their environmental impacts so the timing of this is likely not coincidental as advocates try to push back on the widely held belief that Bitcoin mining risks setting back our ability to achieve CO2 reduction targets.
The film argues that Bitcoin mining could actually incentivize the creation of infrastructure for renewable energy, which may be true, but also depends on individual mining companies and their commitment to the environment.
At about 38 minutes in length, with decent visualization, interviews with a variety of advocates and excellent explanations, it’s well worth your time to gain a better understanding of the Bitcoin mining industry’s perspective. Just keep in mind that it is a one-sided, largely promotional piece. You will have to do a bit of your own research to get a more well-rounded picture.
Listening to:
Just returned from a short trip up north to visit family in Grande Prairie. With an eight-hour drive (each way), I had the opportunity to listen to a lot of podcasts!
My favourite had to be a recently unlocked episode of The Bottlemen podcast about Canada’s possibly most absurd prime minister, the creepy, Hitler-admiring, William Lyon Mackenzie King. It’s the perfect companion piece to the book I’m reading right now by Tyler A. Shipley, “Canada in the World: Settler Capitalism and the Colonial Imagination.”
This is not your father’s history of Canada, no way.
https://thebottlemen.podbean.com/e/unlocked-diary-of-a-wimpy-prime-minister-ft-matt-christman/
Writing:
Maritimers helped build the oilsands, but not without sacrificing a sense of place
My parents were part of a wave of workers convinced to move west and north to Fort McMurray in the late 1970’s. For my father, like many others, it was a chance for steady employment and a decent wage. It was thought to be a temporary move, but my mom, brothers, and now my children and grandchildren are still here in Alberta more than 40 years later.
Leaving behind life in the Maritimes created a physical division in our family – splitting us into the eastern branch and now a western offshoot. With little travel back and forth, it does leave us a bit hollowed out as an extended family.
Also lost was the connection to the natural environment of the east coast and places we loved. One important place from my childhood was a small bit of land on the shores of Grand Lake in New Brunswick, which I think about often and wrote this description of in 2002.
An excerpt:
The “camp” (as we called it) had a damp, musty smell when we first opened it in the spring. We’d clear away the cobwebs (there were lots of them) and open the squeaky wooden screen door at the front.
Once inside, the furniture would be uncovered and the mouse turds swept up in a flurry of preparations. We always seemed to arrive late in the afternoon, so there was a rush to get the groceries unloaded and the supper begun before it got too dark.
There were stacks of books, magazines, crossword puzzles and board games in the corner. We couldn’t wait to get a game of something going. The fireplace would be lit right away, the gray concrete on the front was scorched with black soot from the many fires over the years.
The open beams of the structure cast shadows on the ceiling and we used to lie on the chesterfield (usually covered with either a scratchy wool blanket or a colourful knitted afghan) and watch the mice scurry across the beams, their shadows elongated, making them appear like giant rodents angry that we’d disrupted their home.
The windows were small and narrow so the inside was always dark and cool. The floor was a smooth green laminate cracked and curled in several spots. There were a number of “throw rugs” tossed about on the floor and a small table with metallic chairs and vinyl-covered seats around it.
There was never enough room for everyone around the table, so we often ate on the chairs and the sofa or on metal folding TV trays with faded paintings of kittens or arrangements of fuzzy fruit on the top.
Our family usually went to the camp with my grandparents—it seems we rarely went there alone. When we did go on our own, the place was infused with the smell and spirit of the grandparents, so that even though they weren’t there, it felt like they were.
For those of us who moved west to Alberta, we left parts of ourselves behind in search of new beginnings. Since we rarely get back “home” to New Brunswick and there are few, if any photos of the place that I’ve been able to find, I feel like writing about it is the only way to capture it,
Fancy it was not, but oh the happy times we had.
Here are a few photos of a visit back to Grand Lake in the late 90’s just before the original building was torn down and replaced:
I’m sure many families have a place like this. I’d love to hear about your family’s favourite haunt or getaway. Or about your story of leaving home to come out west. Send me an email or post a comment.