Books read in November 2022

New:

 

1. Still Just a Geek by Wil Wheaton

2. Land of Roar by Jenny McLachlan

Reread:

1. Delusion in Death

What to do if you don't like hearing your daughter-in-law's surname

 From a recent Carolyn Hax:

Hello Carolyn: Our son’s wife of several years chose to hyphenate our last name with her maiden name. Whenever we are with them, she always identifies herself with her maiden name, from setting up reservations to public places requiring identification. It can be hurtful to us. Are we being too sensitive?

— J.

A simple solution would be to take the lead on making reservations and otherwise interacting with others on behalf of your party. That way, the only name you'll have to hear in these contexts is your own.

Explicio via absurdum

There is a logical fallacy called reductio ad absurdum, meaning attempting to establish a claim by showing that the opposite scenario would lead to absurdity or contradiction.

Sometimes I find that the opposite of reductio ad absurdum is actually helpful - using an utterly absurd or extreme example to explain a concept.

With my complete lack of Latin knowledge, I've been calling this "explicio via absurdum", but I welcome any corrections to my Latin!
 

This is particularly useful when trying explain something mathematical by a solely verbal medium, where you can't put numbers in front of your interlocutor's eyes and doing the math with plausible numbers would get you bogged down in arithmetic.

 

It's also useful when you don't know how the real numbers work, but you're trying to make the point that there's a range in which the numbers would work.

 

 

For example, I recently saw a discussion where some people seemed to think that interest rates were the major barrier to housing affordability, and didn't seem to recognize that housing prices themselves could be a barrier regardless of interest rates.

 

So here's how I would explain this via absurdum:

 

 

Imagine the house you want costs $1, and interest rates are 1000%. Can you afford the house? (Probably! You almost certainly have a dollar, and therefore could buy the house outright without a mortgage, thus rendering interest rates irrelevant.)

 

Imagine the house you want costs $1 billion, and interest rates are zero. Can you afford the house? (Probably not! Your monthly payment would be in the millions, which is well outside the scope of anyone who might be paying attention to me)

Now, I am well aware that there aren't any houses costing $1, there aren't any 1000% interest rates, there aren't any 0% interest rates, and if there are any houses costing $1 billion they're irrelevant to our reality.

However, these absurd examples help illustrate how it's possible for a price to be so cheap that interest rates are irrelevant, and to be so expensive that interest rates are irrelevant. Once people see this, they can see that there is in fact a range at the top and bottom of the scale (Could you buy the house outright if it cost $2? $50? $1,000? $10,000?  Would the house be unaffordable even without interest if it cost $500 million? $50 million? $5 million?)

 

Then you gradually move from absurd to reality, with the point made.

"Good morning" is the email salutation you're looking for

Dear Miss Manners: Or should I say “Hi, Miss Manners!”?

I have noticed that all email, and lots of snail letters, even business ones, start with “Hi” instead of “Dear.” I don’t like it, especially from strangers or when it concerns business. But if I continue to write “Dear,” will people think I am sending them love letters?

Or spam. Miss Manners has noticed that spammers have adopted versions of “Dear one” as a salutation, sometimes ratcheting it up to “Beloved.”

They, too, seem to be interpreting it as ingratiating affection, rather than a neutral convention.

Miss Manners is not quite ready to let go of the conventional “Dear” salutation, and agrees with you that “Hi!” seems cheeky. But she is open to ideas if anyone can think of something simple and dignified.

 

The answer Miss Manners and her correspondent are looking for is "Good morning" (or "Good afternoon" or "Good evening"). 

It is simultaneously formal enough (you could totally say "Good morning" to the Queen) and informal enough (you could totally say it in any casual verbal conversation). 

It doesn't have any connotations of affection, or of any emotion stronger than "polite greeting".

For some audiences, acknowledging the time of day can do the same general type of interpersonal work as "How was your weekend?"-type small talk, so it might add a soupçon of warmth to the interaction.

And, at the same time, it comes across as so utterly neutral that your correspondent is almost certainly not going to give it any thought, instead moving right on to the business of the email, which is what you want them to be doing in the first place!

Why I'm more worried about COVID now than I was in 2020

Sometimes I hear people say they're less worried about COVID than they were in previous years. That surprises me, because I'm more worried.

Here's why:

1. I now know more about Long COVID, in particular its potential cognitive effects. In 2020 and 2021, my biggest COVID-related fear was spreading it asymptomatically and inadvertently infecting someone more vulnerable than I am. Now my biggest fear is expediting my dementia.

2. I now know that reinfection is possible. And each reinfection increases the risk of Long COVID. In 2020 and 2021, I figured if I caught it, I'd be in for a couple of weeks of misery and then either die or get on with life. Now I know that it's a perpetual risk.

 

3. With the removal of the required isolation period, the likelihood of any random person being contagious has increased. Unlike 2020 and 2021, people are now far more likely to be incentivized to work while contagious, thereby increasing the risk of contracting COVID in any random interaction or contact.

 

4. With the removal of mask mandates, these contagious people who are out and about are far more likely to be unmasked.

 

5. I now know that COVID is aerosols, not droplets, which means that the virus exhaled by these unmasked contagious people who are out and about can linger in the air for long after they have left the room. I now know that I have no way to tell whether a space is safe. 

 

6. Hospitals are under more pressure now. We didn't have ERs and ICUs closing in 2020 or 2021! We didn't have 41-hour ER wait times in 2020 or 2021! This puts everyone at risk in ways that go far beyond contracting COVID - what if you get hit by a car? What if your appendix bursts?

 

7. There's no more feeling that those in power want us to be safe, or even want society to continue functioning. There's no more "All in this together", there's no more "We'll get through this". Which is even more disheartening when we know what to do, we just have to do it! 

 

8. Given the uncontrolled spread and potential for reinfection and increased risk of Long COVID and its potential cognitive effects - and given the dearth of treatments and supports for people with Long COVID - I fear a world where people with brain fog are driving trucks and performing surgery and important things like that. 

 

9. 90% of the people I love in the world are high risk. 90% of the people I love in the world have already had COVID at least once. There is significant overlap between the two groups. Not everyone got through it okay. I fear being the last one standing. Maybe with dementia myself, and no one left who cares about me. 

 

10. In 2020, we hardly knew anything, but we took a bunch of measures. It felt like things could only improve as we learned more. Now we know way more, and we aren't doing any of it. A world where we haven't figured out how to solve the problem is nowhere near as scary as a world where we have figured out how to solve the problem, but refuse to do so.