Learning To Die: Preface

This episode is the preface to my new podcast series on Western philosophy: Learning To Die; இறத்தல் அறிதல் in Tamil. 

I think it'd be redundant to type out what I've discussed in the podcast but it is, perhaps, prudent to disabuse the uneasiness the title is likely to cause.

The title is inspired by what Plato says in the Phaedo: "…those who practice philosophy in the right way are in training for dying". Montaigne rewrote that as "to learn to philosophize is to learn to die" in one of his essays. The are some well known metaphorical readings of Plato's words but my reasons aren't just that.

I hope all listeners start with this episode so they know what they could expect from the series and orient their engagement accordingly. 

Note: This blog will only be temporary 'host' for the podcast series until I get to setting up a dedicated site.

The Invisible Other - Teaser 2: Paramakudi 'Chiyaan Boys'

The Invisible Other - Teaser 1: Introducing Caste

English, Tamil: Ideology vs. Reality (3 of 3)

Bernstein states that the way 'a society selects, classifies, distributes, transmits and evaluates the educational knowledge it considers to be public, reflects both the distribution of power and the principles of social control.’ Habermas and Bernstein, among others, provide some crucial rubrics to understand the complex political processes that underpin the medium of instruction issue in Tamil Nadu, Karnataka -- and similar Indian states -- which carry strong political and ideological overtones. Habermas regards ideology as ‘systematically distorted communication’ and the ‘suppression of generalizable interests,’ where structural features in communities (including language communities) and societies operate to the advantage of the dominant and the disadvantage of subordinate groups. Ideology here is taken to be the values of dominant groups in society that permeate the social structure, with or without the consensus of all. Power, through ideology, is omnipresent in language. And language is a principal means for the operation of power. Going by Gramsci’s notion of hegemony – domination by consent of all parties, including the dominated – language is intimately involved in the manufacture of ideological consent and in turn where power resides.

Tamil Nadu provides for a very insightful case study in this regard. The MOI issue in Tamil Nadu is bound by issues of power, domination, legitimacy and social stratification. Historically, the Tamil region has had an uncomfortable relationship with the Indian union and it was one of the only states that problematized the notion of having a national language – to be used for all official communication and to be used as the MOI in all public schools – and was successful in undermining the idea altogether. But it also gave birth to a political discourse that was obsessed with a rigid Tamil identity. The Dravidian governments have insisted, since then, on the necessity to preserve 'Tamil heritage' and its purported uniqueness. They have expressed concerns over Tamil losing its stature among its own populace.

Even if one does not problematize essentialist notions such as 'Tamil heritage', it is untenable to assume that maintaining Tamil as the primary medium of instruction in public schools would achieve that goal. The government has not done any studies to establish if public schools have produced more ‘authentic Tamils’ than private schools. Both in terms of feasibility and ideological apprehension that Tamil will lose its foothold among its people, the governments’ concerns seem unfounded. The Dravidian parties (DMK and ADMK) have, over the decades, used Tamil to exploit a populist sentiment that is not necessarily reflected on people’s economic aspirations and the means to achieving them. However, this populist sentiment is not peculiar to Tamil politics alone. The mainstream media, especially films, exhibit a dichotomous behavior in which people who speak ‘pure’ Tamil considered to be true to their identity while indirectly maintaining that those who speak ‘good’ English are sophisticated. (This observation is all the more relevant for a state like Tamil Nadu.)

‘Symbolic violence’, Bourdieu says, is when structures of domination in a society are reproduced by imposing cultural values claimed to be universal. English, in this context, maybe argued as an elitist cultural value thrust on the poor and socially backward by creating an illusion of empowerment while simultaneously delegitimizing Tamil’s role in achieving the same. But it is in direct contradiction with macro, external realities such as the difficulties faced by Tamil medium students when they enter the university level and the labour market. The underlying problem is not whether or not English is desired by all sections of the society but whether the State should maintain its exclusivity.

Conclusion:

English linguistic capital continues to be linked to cultural and economic capital and to reproduce the existing stratification of society and schooling. This practice has only become stronger over the years; the recent economic growth driven by the IT industry has re-invented the elite status that English language has long held in India. Students’ performance in private, English medium schools has also legitimized the power exerted by English, further increasing its desirability. Therefore, it is unrealistic to hope that students from Tamil medium schools will be able to compete on a level playing field in the future.

The MOI issue in Tamil Nadu, may also be interpreted through Gidden's structuration theory: where agency (parental aspiration) combines with structure (parents’ cultural background and the school system) to produce and reify social structures and behavior. The successive governments lead by the Dravidian parties, by the way of restricting the MOI to Tamil in most of the public schools, has repressed the agency of those who need it the most – the poor and the backward classes. The political elites of Tamil Nadu – primarily from the Dravidian parties – have created a landscape that has normalized several false dichotomies.

The purported significance of a Tamil identity, it can be argued, is no more than a hegemonic thrust of a moralistic ideology that marginalized the fundamental aspirations of a people who were already politically and economically disenfranchised, especially the SC/ST. The DMK’s vision of empowering the masses by reclaiming the Tamil identity has been farcical at best. It laid a heuristic obstacle by creating dead ends to students who were indirectly forced to go through Tamil-medium schools. Tamil’s virtual absence in universities and colleges stand testament to this claim. The language policy is underpinned by the oversimplification of Tamil ethnic identity to medium of instruction in schools. A point that needs to be contrasted with the fact the much of the modern exposure of Tamil, as a language and a cultural entity, has been fuelled by social and technological development rooted in English.

A State that envisions an egalitarian society – that makes policy reforms to accommodate lower castes by quotas and other such reservation systems – should also take into account the interests of the wider public in other critical issues. Regardless of what percentage of people choose English-medium schools – if given the choice – the state government’s role in forcing them one way or the other is questionable. In a state with such visible stratification based on caste structures, the State needs to democratize the educational system in a way that reflects the current priorities of the people.

English, Tamil: Linguistic Capital (1 of 3)

The notion of ‘linguistic capital’ is related to Bourdieu’s view of ‘cultural capital.’ In terms of education and schooling, the cultural capital thesis argues that some students possess the social class, family, cultural background and dispositions that enable them to utilize the school environment and its facilities more efficiently than those who do not. They are better acclimatized to the curricula and other benefits that branch from it. Those who are disadvantaged in this regard, on the other hand, tend to have a weaker grasp of the same knowledge as it is culturally alien to them, thereby affecting their learning and, in turn, their growth prospects. Thus social stratification and patterns of domination and subordination are reproduced, despite the school system’s apparent intention to provide equal opportunity to all.

The same holds true for linguistic capital: it can be defined as one’s fluency, expertise and comfort with a language which is used by groups that possess economic, social, cultural and political power and status in local and global society. The linguistic capital thesis, then, states that students who possess, or develop linguistic capital, thereby have access to better life chances. Schools that teach (in) a language associated with a higher socio-economic status, in effect, provide better opportunities for those who can take up that language. Even if it is offered democratically, there exist a number of barriers that promote selective inclusion. Schools, through their medium of instruction (MOI), are implicated in the production and reproduction of certain advantages in the society; linguistic capital is both the medium and outcome of the pursuit of enhanced life chances.

It is important, however, that we understand the dynamic nature of linguistic capital. It is something that can be acquired even by those who do not have ancestral precedents. So it is not impossible for a Tamil boy with Tamil speaking parents to acquire linguistic capital that is grounded in English or Hindi. It will be inaccurate to suggest otherwise, given how so many of us who went to English medium schools never once conversed in English with our parents.

English, in contemporary India, is essential for white-collar employment and is a key component of the ‘cultural capital’ of middle class Indians. As a significant cultural resource, English language proficiency is an imperative goal for the poor and middle class people to achieve social mobility beyond a point. Many of the jobs available in government and government-aided service sector stipulate knowledge of English as essential. The private sector, even before the economic liberalization since 1991, adopted a similar approach keeping in mind India’s multilingual markets. The outsourcing era has further substantiated proficiency of English as a necessary skill set in the urban employment sector. And the jobs that do not require the knowledge of English, both in organized and unorganized sectors are significantly low paying.

The language divide between those proficient in English and those who are not is also a mirror image of broader class and spatial divisions in India. Simply put, the elite and urban professional classes are well acquainted with English; the urban and rural poor, the farmers, and the local traders and merchants are not. In India, the ability to speak in English is not simply about jobs or economic growth, it's a significant marker of social status. As with many indicators of social mobility in India -- such as property ownership, annual income, employment rate etc. -- the upper castes also tend to be most proficient in English too; as they attend private, English medium schools the most. So a lower caste parent has multiple reasons to want his/her children to be educated in English. As many Dalit scholars have argued, it is a real means of empowerment.

This is a relatively unique situation in India in comparison to countries like France, Germany, or Japan. Although it needs to be mentioned that such 'admiration' for English is common in several other countries, especially in Southeast Asia. It is disingenuous to suggest that there’s a possible parallel between aforementioned countries and India. India is also different in its market structure and the technical modernization (or the lack thereof) that the ‘regional languages’ have gone through.

(continued in next post)

All about a dog

This being my first post in a blog 1(well that’s a good ‘dot’ to start with, in a sketch that is supposed to show my face, because by saying “This being my first post in a blog” I indirectly mean that I’ve been posting articles/reviews/rants/plain blandish comments/emails asking members to behave themselves 2(well yeah I own a yahoo group 3(hmm I don’t know if I can say that I own a group just because I have the membership status as ‘Owner’ in the group’s page; after all it’s a Yahoo group and according to Yahoo’s terms and conditions 4(which most of us don’t read before clicking on the “I Accept” button)4, they have all the rights to ‘confiscate’ it whenever they want to)3, that has no less than 850 real members 5(real members? Yes, excluding those who might have more than one ID in the group for whatever reasons)5)2, and none of this is new to me except that this time it’s officially meant to display my conceit and eccentricities)1, I would use it to tell you a bit about myself or narrate incidents and stories that would give you an idea about what kind of a guy I am. If you are here (meaning, you didn’t close the window saying “what the heck man?”, and have read till this line), am sure you would have realized that I tend to digress from the topic that I actually try to talk about. (I've colour coded them to help you out, and numbered them to help myself out to colour code them)

There are 2 main reasons for this:
(1) Nothing is singular and untied and hence cannot be understood without relating it to some other thing, which sometimes might only be understood by relating it to something else, like this very statement.
(2) Whenever I argue or posit something, I make sure that I let everyone(or just one) know that I gave all ‘those’ perspectives, perspectives that one might want to use to counter my argument, assuming that I did not take those in to account.

Blogs in my opinion is where you post your real experiences (yeah your feelings/opinions can be called as “experience(s)”). The problem I have with that is, blogs unlike - popular websites hosting forums - are hardly read by people you don’t know. You don’t just mail “someguy” and ask him to read your blog, but your friends, people who know you. That being the case you’re forced to be honest (at least to a certain level), you cannot just make up some story and use your new found language skill (oh yes, that’s something that irritates me. And should I say “new found” because it’d mean it existed in that person for a long time and he just happened to tap in to it? Or should I say “newly invented”, because such a skill never existed in him) to narrate it, because those who read would know it never happened. On the other hand experiences are engrossing or at least not boring only when they are different, different in a peculiar way. And unfortunately not all of us have such experiences to write about. Nevertheless most of the people in blogs do it anyway and that’s when it gets totally irritating.
“Today is Saturday. My car has been making this hip-hop beat lately, well the pioneer guy tries his best to rock the chamber but the engine’s pistons are too mechanical to beat” I go “ok so your engine is messed up and your car stereo is Pioneer, what a low life!”. Then again one’s experience however commonplace, is the most amazing thing for him, so the crime is pardonable I suppose.

But don’t worry, my experiences aren’t commonplace by any measure, they are extremely unique, some times they are so unique that you can’t relate to it and hence boring. I’ve been lazy and tardy all my life and those qualities have forced me to be brave and daring. I don’t know if you see the relation between the former and the latter. When you’re lazy you lose out on regular opportunities and now you’re left with ‘above-regular’ opportunities which cannot be utilized without a certain amount of fearlessness. I’ve never really reached an extraordinary (extraordinary by ‘normal’ standards) life so far, but the irony is that I’ve had to display extraordinary skills to get myself to an average position.
Example: When I was in my 6th and 7th grades, I studied in a school that was 4kms away from my house. An average 11 year old on an average mono-geared bicycle on an average Indian road (8 potholes/100 m) on an average south Indian terrain(4 cows + 12 dogs + 2 drunken autos/Km that get in your way, halting you to 0Km/h) would take 30 minutes to travel that distance. So if the school starts at 8.30 (and it did), one would have to leave home at least by 8.05 to reach on time, which would mean that he’ll have to wake up at least by 7.30 (assuming that you take bath, brush and do ‘all that’?). But I usually wake up at 7.50, by the time am dressed up and ready to leave it’s 8.20. So now I pedal at no less than 45Km/h, show amazing maneuverability to avoid all those potholes, 'steer' my way through those dogs and cows, and land at the school gate right on time. But this isn’t always successful. When it isn’t I take the fence, climb the tree that leads to my class’s window, drop my bag, then get in to the class through the entrance (the window was too small for me to enter), and tell the teacher “sorry sir went to toilet”. Of course there have been times when all these have failed and had to take it on my butt (by ‘it’ I mean a long bamboo stick, hey am not being figurative here!) or at times my palm (oh stop it you pervert, I’m saying that I got lashed).

*** end of example ***

This quality of mine never changed, it continues to exist in me. It’s not only physical extremities that I’ve pushed myself to, but mental too. Like I said, if you’re reading this you were probably my classmate in college and you know what I’m talking about, don’t you? If there’s any theory that I always follow before I do something, it’s the “worst consequence theory”, I don’t know if it’s coined by someone else before. What it means is that, before I do something I think about the worst that could happen (if everything screws up the worst possible way) and prepare myself for that. The best part is that I don’t just say it, I honestly get prepared for it and nothing could shock me then.

Most of my postings are simple hate speech about something (well not really, but saying so saves me from getting tagged by you!). People say I’m a pessimist, probably because bad things are all I talk about (in their view that is). The reason or the justification rather, that I give for that is “there are too many to talk good about it” ‘it’ being the subject of the matter. Yes I have a serious problem with the concept of ‘agreeing with the majority’. Some times I take my stance to a exact opposite viewpoint just because the people who I hate agree with me. Because of the ‘fact’ that anything that is cogent, logical, valid could be contested - if not refuted thoroughly - by an equally cogent, logical, valid argument, for all those attributes are relative.

Not all my posts are like this one, with each parenthesis having sub-parenthesis and so forth, no wonder I like movies like Memento and Pulp fiction. I could probably add more to this post but then again I could probably alter it by reducing its length or removing unwanted explanations, so before I think about anything else, I’ll just stop here.

I don’t know what kind of comments that I am going to get for this post, but I’ll say this anyway “I don’t care!” (Though am actually dying to read the comments and would visit my blog as often as 5 times an hour). Whether it’s true about me or not, it sure is true about a lot of other ‘cool dude’ wannabes that say “I don’t care”. It only reminds of that Lifebuoy ad “adhigama thinna gundaaiduva – I don’t care”

And one more thing, “Brevity need not be the soul of wit”. May be for one liners it is!


Suresh