Top Travels

 

Top Travels

Hey hey, this is Lucas, and welcome to the podcast. To be honest, picking a topic wasn’t easy, because I have a long, long list of ideas to cover. I think I’m just going to have to move in some sort of logical progression, while at the same time staying reasonably topical.

That being said, as someone who has tried his best to get out and see as much of the world as he can, a rundown of some of those countries seems like a good transition from my little self-introduction. Most people love travel, or even if they can’t find a way to travel (especially now), they love the idea of travel, and of discovering other cultures and places. That old chestnut about travel being broadening is totally true, and it’s something that I would recommend to anyone. Somewhere out there, there is a country just begging for you to go and fall in madly love with it. At the very least, you’ll learn some fascinating little things about a new and interesting culture that you’d probably never learn from seeing it on YouTube or on TV. There really is something to be said for firsthand experience, and hopefully sharing some of mine can give you a better idea of where you might want to go when the world returns to some semblance of normalcy.

Of the 195 sovereign states that currently exist, I feel that having only seen 11 of them in person I have a lot of work to do, but once I have the time and the money, more travel is definitely on my agenda. I’ve seen a fairly good chunk of Japan, having lived here for about a decade, but I may set Japan aside and give it its own episode, so that I can truly do it justice. Let’s just do this in chronological order otherwise.

The first foreign country I ever visited, as you might imagine, was the good old US of A. My house is about 45 minutes by car from the US border, so not only did my family go shopping there once in a while, but Kingston also gets a lot of tourists and weekend partiers up from the south as well. Being a university town, Kingston has a pretty decent night life, and possibly more importantly, we have a lower drinking age than New York does (19 compared to 21), so for that reason we have a lot of young military recruits come up from Fort Drum. Let’s just say, in my experience, they held their liquor about as well as you might expect a lot of guys between 19 and 21 would. All that aside though, when my family went to the US, all I can remember is thinking about is how similar it was to Canada. The road signs looked sort of weird, the shops and brands were a bit different, but other than that, upstate New York barely seemed like another country.

Florida, on the other hand…wow. We went to Disney World when I was about 12, and that place did strike me as though the culture was somehow…different. It’s hard to put my finger on now. It was 30 years ago, mind you. Based on what I’ve heard Florida has become about 1000% weirder in that time, but even then it was a bit of a shock. I think the heat and a bug I picked up somewhere along the way may have colored my experience a bit though. My memories now are a blurry mix of fireworks at Epcot on New Year’s Eve, breakfast at IHOP, a lot of signs for alligator farms (like, why would you even farm alligators?), and a pervading nausea. It’s quite possible the heat and humidity in Florida just messes with Canadians, because I felt equally queasy when I first set foot in Okinawa.

One thing that did stick with me from that trip and subsequent trips I made to upstate New York throughout high school though, was that yes, there is definitely a “politeness gap”. I mean, not all Canadians are polite, and not all Americans are rude, but…I just have this one memory of brushing past some guy in a restaurant in Albany, saying “Excuse me”, and the response, I kid you not, was a very aggressive “Yeah, whatever”. Alrighty then. My experiences of Americans living abroad though have been almost universally awesome. It’s like night and day. It just demonstrates how different the culture is from area to area in the US, and how you really can’t judge the US (or any country, for that matter) unless you get a really broad sample. Overall I love the country, wish them the best, and hope that I can see more of it someday, but the weirdness of the Trump era has made me put off those plans until America learns how to make peace with itself.

Moving on, once I had made my way to Japan in 2005, I actually got roped almost immediately into joining several other teachers on a trip to Thailand over the winter holidays. I hadn’t planned on going to Thailand, but they had booked a whole package tour, someone had subsequently dropped out, and I figured…why not? To this day, I am incredibly glad I went. Thailand is stunning in its natural beauty, filled with diverse and friendly people, and has a cuisine that just doesn’t even compare with anything else in the world: spicy, savory, complex, and incredibly varied.

We started in Bankok, as many do, and were lucky enough to have a wonderful guide named Noot as well as six other people in our tour group, all of whom were lovely, with the exception of one miserable older British man who we generally ignored. During the days, Noot showed us all of the standard sights – The Grand Palace, Reclining Buddha at Wat Pho, a boat tour of the Chao Phraya River – while at night we were free to explore on our own. Some people poo-poo tour groups, but this worked very well for us. We saw the things we wanted to see, some sights that we would never have known were there, and still had time to explore.

From Bankok, we took a night train down the isthmus of Thailand to Khao Sok National Park, a completely surreal place to someone like myself, who had hardly ever traveled before. Soaring, ancient-looking limestone cliffs cloaked in thick jungle, jutting out of a steaming tropical lake; this is where we stayed for three days, on floating bamboo raft-houses. Our meals were expertly prepared, and there were daily excursions to explore caves, the nearby town, and to ride elephants through a rubber plantation. Every day revealed more of this unique culture, and I think I speak for everyone when I say that we were all just drinking it up. It was here I actually learned how to use poi (P-O-I), which, if you are unfamiliar, is a type of performance art, popular in Thailand. The name refers both to the art, and to the tethered weights that one rhythmically swings around their body. In a way, it was actually good training for certain weapons I later studied while taking Kung Fu.

After the raft-houses, we moved on from the park to the nearby town, where we stayed in huts in the jungle. There, I vividly recall riding inner tubes along a gorgeous stretch of river, insulated by thick jungle on either side. A number of us also had traditional tattoos done by a local artist, something that in retrospect sounds sort of crazy, but I don’t regret doing at all. Later, we moved further down the isthmus and stayed in a beach resort in Krabi, where we had a breathtaking tour of the Andaman Sea by yacht, and spent a full day and night camping on one of the local islands. There, we went snorkeling, sang songs by a campfire, ate fish freshly caught that afternoon, and gaped at the enormous monitor lizards that happened to live there. That day was definitely a highlight.

This was followed by an overnight stay at a rubber plantation, where the owner took us out to watch a Muay Thai tournament. As a martial artist this was easily another one my favorite experiences, and I was just stunned by the raw skill and discipline of each of those fighters, some of them as young as ten. Later, we had gotten back to our huts on the plantation and had just settled in for the night when we were suddenly startled awake and shaken out of bed by music booming out of the nearby jungle. Of course, with sleep utterly out of the question, we got up and went to check it out. As it turned out, someone was putting on a rave. I didn’t know jungle raves were a thing, but they totally are. It was about as epic and surreal as one might expect, but after dancing for a few hours, I was so tired my brain basically shut down, and I don’t remember much else.

This is just a brief overview of some of the things we saw, and I loved it so much I ended up going back to Thailand again a few years later. I did a few of the same things for the sake of nostalgia, explored a few new spots, but to keep it reasonably brief I’ll just say that it’s hard not to have fun in that country. Thailand most definitely left a little bit of itself in my soul, along with that little bit of ink on my ankle.

The next country I ticked off my bucket list was Korea, because while I had been working in Oita, my cousin Brian had been working in Busan, also as an English teacher. This is definitely a common theme in my family; my sister did it too. Anyway, I took the train to Fukuoka, and from there actually made my way by hovercraft to Busan. A hovercraft over a choppy ocean is about as bumpy as you might expect, but it was definitely a cool way to travel. It costs 32,000 yen for a round trip, which is about 300 dollars, takes about 3 hours, and if the weather is nice you do get some cool views.

My experience of Busan was overall quite good. I started off having dinner with my cousin, sampling some of the local cuisine and nightlife. The cuisine didn’t win me over quite the way it did in Thailand, but it was colorful, unique and well-prepared. I’m not huge on kimchi, but until I went to Korea I had no idea the number of varieties there were. Even I, a lifelong opponent of all things pickled, ended up enjoying a few of them.

Korea is of course a modern country, but one that celebrates its roots. Ancient temples mingle with modern skyscrapers, gaming centers juxtapose with tranquil gardens, and I found it to be home to a people that seek to balance working hard with having fun. Koreans may not want to admit this, but they do have at least this in common with the Japanese. Also great sushi and a lot of karaoke bars. I admit, I may not remember a ton about Korea because they have a definite drinking culture there, and I certainly partook. Fun fact, they actually drink more per capita in Korea than in any other Asian country. Still, I did not meet anyone there who could drink a Canadian under the table.

So after I moved back from Japan, I was working in Ottawa for a while, and during that time I took a trip to Europe. I had wanted to see Europe for myself for the longest time, because my mother had gone backpacking across Europe after university, and she really made it sound like the experience of a lifetime. One of my best friends from Ottawa. Marc, wanted to go as well, and so we just decided to throw together a budget backpacking tour. We planned everything out pretty meticulously, so that we got the most bang for our buck. We used a homestay network called “SERVAS”, which I highly recommend, in order to avoid paying for hotels. Basically how it works is that you join the network, they interview you, determine you’re not a psycho, and then give you lists of people who are willing to host in each city you plan to visit. Then, you just contact some of them, and if they are open to hosting during the time you’re passing through, you’re set. We didn’t score homestays in every place we visited, but we did in Rome, Paris and London. We also got Euro-Rail passes to get around, which is pretty much the best option for anyone traveling around Europe on a budget. We set off in early August of 2011, if I remember correctly.

The first country on our itinerary was Italy. We flew into Rome, and were met by our host family. They were a family of four with a nice place in downtown Rome, and some of the most gracious hosts ever. The idea with SERVAS is different from Air B&B in that you are expected to socialize with the hosts while you stay in their home as a means of cultural exchange, and this actually made it better. Their daughter in particular was eager to give us tips on where to go and what to do, and with her help we really enjoyed the city. On our own we saw the typical sights like the Coliseum, the Pantheon, Trevi Fountain, the Forum, Trajan’s Column, the Vatican, and strolled along the Tiber. Later, we came back to their flat and they cooked us a wonderful dinner, after which we chatted and split a bottle of wine.

The second day was actually off-script. Marc and I had planned an itinerary, but the family we were staying with actually made us an offer we couldn’t refuse: they wanted to take us to their private cottage on the outskirts of Rome, on the edge of a picturesque lake, where a local festival was taking place. Of course we ditched our plans and agreed in a heartbeat. We drove out in the afternoon, along the way taking in the spectacular countryside (complete with ancient aqueducts!), and arrived after about an hour at Lago di Bracciano. (Apologies for any butchering of the Italian name.) This is an ancient volcanic lake to the northwest of Rome, and their cottage, although modest, had a spectacular view overlooking it. We did a little walking tour of the area, and then they cooked us a lovely dinner of authentic Italian pasta. After that, they told us there were going to be fireworks, and that we were free to use their kayaks to go out onto the lake and view them from there. I really can’t adequately convey to you how awesome these people were. It was like we won the host family lottery.

The next day however, we had to sadly bid them adieu, or I suppose, “arrivederci”. We were moving on to Venice. I had been tempted to stop in Pisa along the way (to see the tower), but as it was a significant detour, we had decided against it. We set out on the train, and it seemed like it hardly took any time at all. We were seated near some other travelers, a trio of very friendly girls in their twenties, who we chatted with most of the way, and before we knew it we were pulling into the Venice station. There, we had reserved a room in a hostel instead of a homestay, and as soon as we settled in we were off again to explore the city.

Venice, I should be clear, is uniquely beautiful. There is no other city even remotely like it. Walking around it is a feast for the senses, with classical architecture everywhere, shops full of handcrafted goods, a variety of incredible cuisine ranging from gelato to fresh seafood, and the ever-present smell of the sea. On some days, I’ve heard that the smell from the canals can be a little less than pleasant due to them doing double duty as Venice’s sewer system, but the tides had done their duty while we were there, apparently.

As you might expect, we were quick to tour the must-see sights, like the Piazza San Marco, the Grand Canal, and the Rialto Bridge. We also took a short ride on a vaporetti, or water-bus, out to Murano, the island historically famous for its glass-making. While unfortunately we arrived during the Ferragosto holiday when most of the shops were closed, we were still able to wander the streets there, and take in some of the fantastic glass sculpture. We capped it off with drinks by the canal after one of the most stunning ocean sunsets I have ever witnessed. If it’s a little cliché to say that it was magical, then so be it.

After Venice we were on our way to Nice, in the French Riviera. Again we took the train, and this time the trip was even faster, with more spectacular views along the way. It’s really the best way to travel in Europe. We pulled into Nice in the afternoon, this time settling into a hotel rather than a hostel, and proceeded to just wander around for a while. My mother had been there many years before, and recommended the pebbly beaches, so we put our feet in the ocean, enjoyed the sunshine, and had lunch at a patio nearby. Marc convinced me to try some local olives, even though I hate olives, because you can’t fully experience the Mediterranean until you do, but it only served to verify that yes, I do indeed hate all olives, and to the very core of my being. The mussels, however, were delicious, and while we ate we were treated to a street performance of Brazilian capoeira, randomly.

While we were in Nice, we decided it was worth taking a side trip to Monaco, which is essentially right next door. There is a local train that takes you, and after a short ride we spent part of the next day just wandering around there. The city is obscenely wealthy, and it shows. Mega-yachts lined the harbor, top-end luxury cars drove the streets, and we had some definite trouble finding a restaurant that didn’t overcharge. Eventually we found one overlooking the sea, with a nice selection of local seafood. We took a brief peek inside the Monte Carlo Casino, but to be honest neither of us had much interest in gambling, and we were content to leave it at that. We spent the evening back in Nice, mostly just taking in the scenery rather than any specific tourist attractions.

From Nice, we were off to Paris. If we’d had more time in France, I would have loved to have seen the countryside and toured some little winery in the middle of nowhere, but you can’t do it all on one trip. Paris was a must-see, and we had been lucky enough to score a homestay with a man living right downtown. He worked in cosmology, which I thought was super-interesting. Not to be confused with cosmetology – he studied space, not make-up. When we arrived, we were pleasantly surprised to find him as gracious as our last hosts, and happy to give us a walking tour of the area. We were lucky enough to be able to see Notre Dame before it burned, along with the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, the Champs-Elysees, the Arc de Triomphe, and Pont Royal. One thing I do regret missing is the Paris Catacombs, but there is just so much to see there that it completely slipped my mind as we were running around. We did, however, take a side trip to see the Palace of Versailles and its spectacular gardens, which was well worth the time.

In the evening, we decided to cook for our host, and even though for the life of me I can’t recall what I made, he seemed pleased with it. We spent some time on his rooftop patio sipping craft beer and gazing over the lights of the city, and then Marc and I went out to sample the night life. We went to a few bars, but I have to say, the welcome in Paris was a bit frostier than in some of the other places we visited. The attitude there seemed to be that tourists were to be tolerated but engaged with only if absolutely necessary. I understand it in a way, since they get (or got) about 38 million of them a year, but it didn’t help alleviate the image of Parisians as snooty and aloof. Overall though, Paris was as fantastic as people build it up to be.

Next, we had booked a night in Amsterdam, just a single night due to homestay and train scheduling. I sincerely wish we had had longer, because it turned out to be one of my favorite places. We booked a rather posh hotel at a bargain rate, right downtown, and basically just wandered around again initially, trying to get a feel for the city. Due to our time constraints, we didn’t want to really spend a lot of our precious time traveling back and forth between tourist traps, so we opted to see the canals, the Red Light District, the pot cafes, and sample the local cuisine. In retrospect I have no regrets, because my memories of Amsterdam are all warm, if slightly fuzzy. We enjoyed the warm summer night on a patio, munching on some chocolate-dipped waffle delight we discovered in a local bakery, sipping a local beer, and called it a day. The next time I go to Europe I will make time to see more of Amsterdam though, because the place was everything I had pictured and more. Also, the people are just ridiculously attractive. If I could date a country, it would totally be the Netherlands.

From there, the last leg of our tour was London. On the way, our train went through the famous “Chunnel”, which I had been sort of fascinated with since first hearing about it. Pretty cool, but the view sucks for about 40 minutes there, so bring a book. In London we had our last and most…interesting homestay. Having only briefly corresponded previously, we arrived to discover that our host, Maggie, was a very elderly lady, confined to a wheelchair. This wasn’t a problem with us of course, but it did make for some strange moments.

She had a passion for jazz as it turned out, was actually still quite active in organizing live jazz performances. She had even helped organize one on our very first night there. So, for dinner she insisted that we all go out to the restaurant where the performance was taking place. Sounded great, we thought. We all went out together, no doubt appearing to all like two young men and their grandmother out for a night on the town. Now Maggie was pretty independent, which I respected, but perhaps a bit more so than was actually warranted. She insisted on making her own way in her wheelchair as we strolled along behind her, but it was raining, and there were some hills along the way. At one point, Maggie started gaining a bit of momentum on one of those hills, and if Marc and I hadn’t had some quick reflexes, ol’ Maggie would have gone shooting down that alleyway and out into four lanes of London traffic. After that, we thankfully made it to the restaurant without further incident.

It turned out, the performance was spectacular, and the food was surprisingly amazing. I say “surprisingly” for two reasons, the first of course being the generally held opinion that British cuisine is terrible. The second being that Maggie insisted I try the haggis. Now, to those of you who are unfamiliar, haggis is traditionally made from the heart, liver and lungs of a sheep, minced with onion, oatmeal, spices, etc., and cooked inside the sheep’s stomach. As you might imagine, I was not leaping at the chance to try this, but after she insisted that I order it, she also insisted on paying for everything, so there wasn’t really any excuse I could give. Despite my misgivings though, I actually found myself liking it, and everything else about that evening. We got prime seats, and Maggie was delightful company.

The following day we did the typical tourist thing, making the rounds of Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, Tower Bridge, The London Eye, and Piccadilly Circus, among others. We also made time for a trip out to Stonehenge (something I insisted on), and I’m thrilled to have had a chance to see it. The weather wasn’t ideal (typical of the UK, ha-ha), but standing in a place of such immense history, that I had read so much about, was really a satisfying experience. Stonehenge, if you don’t know, is in Wiltshire, about a two hour bus ride to the west of London, so it was a bit far, but in my opinion not to be missed. Long story slightly less long, we flew out the next day, and that was it for Europe. Great trip overall, made all the more excellent by Marc, who was great company.

Fast forward to few years later, and I was back living in Japan, this time in Okinawa. Another friend from Canada was visiting, and after I had shown him the sights in Okinawa we decided to take a little side trip to Taiwan, since Miyakojima, where I had been living, sits basically right next to it. To be honest, I didn’t really know what to expect, because my research had been minimal. When I travel sometimes I like it that way, because it gives you a lot of room to just explore and discover things.

What surprised me most was how multicultural it was – signs in English, Chinese, Japanese, Western chain restaurants mixed in with authentic Thai, traditional Chinese, and all around I could hear all of the above languages being spoken. People were quite friendly too, and I ended up enjoying it a lot. We saw Taipei 101 (the tallest building in the world from 2004 to 2009), the National Palace Museum, Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall, Ximending (or the “Harajuku of Taipei”), the Taipei Zoo, and a few other points of interest. I regret missing out on the famous night markets, but overall I liked it so much I’d definitely go back and see them then.

Since then, I’ve mostly just alternated between visiting Canada and traveling within Japan. Visiting friends, exploring local points of interest, and dealing with the move here to Fukuoka has taken up a lot of my time. I do have a bucket list once life returns to something resembling normalcy, however. At the top of that list is another trip across Europe, this time to include Portugal, Spain, the French countryside, The Netherlands part II, Germany, and Denmark, probably in that order. Following that, I’ve got my eye on New Zealand, mostly because I’m a huge Lord of the Rings fan, and Vietnam, largely because my sister taught there and had good things to say, but also because their food is amazing.

This one ended up being a bit longer than I intended, sorry for that, but there were a lot of good times and good stories in each destination. Of all these, what would I recommend the most you ask? Well, I suppose it has to be Thailand. It was after all the only country so nice I visited it twice, unless you count Japan or the US of course. Yeah, there are some tourist traps, but once you find your way around, there’s something for everyone, and so much fun to be had. Plus, the exchange rates are not to be scoffed at – I had a lobster dinner for the price of a bowl of ramen in Japan.

In the end I hope this helped inspire you to travel, even though right now it’s basically an ordeal to do so. That will change soon enough. In part it was also meant to remind us that there is a great big world out there, even though sometimes we may feel trapped in our own little corner of it. As I see it, we’re not just members of a family, a community, or a country, but global citizens; human beings with a lot in common. Half of the thrill of travel comes from diving into the unfamiliar, but the other half is from discovering that even in the most unfamiliar of places, you can find shared values and new friends.

Stay awesome everybody.

 

Foreword:

Wow, it certainly has been a hot minute since I posted on here! What can I say, I've been busy. Life happens. But, I did start a podcast, so there's that. I decided I might as well link the transcripts here, for a few reasons, but mainly because I teach English, and this could be one hell of an English teaching resource. I may post translations in Japanese later for my students! Stay tuned. Thanks for stopping by, too! 

HellotoLucas: A Bio (brief history, education, career, interests, goals with the podcast, life                                             goals, yadda yadda.)

…and away we go! So of course, when kicking off any podcast, it’s basically obligatory to give a bit of a self-introduction, unless you happen to be famous, and I very much am not. I suppose you could say I’m big in Japan, but mostly in the sense that I’m just taller than everyone here. I have been doing a very public-facing job for most of my adult life, namely teaching English in Japan, and I have done a lot of blogging which I will link to somewhere, but until now I generally have tried to maintain my privacy for the most part. This has a lot to do with the nature of the world in which we’re currently living, where we have become data points for major tech companies to mine for personal information. Right now though, the creative urge, and the urge to connect with people around meaningful issues is more of a powerful motivator for me.

To those of you who have never heard of me, (most of you), my name is Lucas, but you guys can call me Luke. I don’t actually have a preference. Fun fact: my mother was pregnant with me when my parents saw the first Star Wars, and after seeing it they sort of said to themselves: “Huh…Luke…George Lucas…I like that.” So my name is inspired by science-fiction, which is perfect, because I totally am too. Appropriately enough, I am a huge Star Wars fan, and have studied a number of martial arts, so I could maybe even hold my own in a light saber duel. I studied Psychology too, so who knows, maybe I have a few Jedi mind tricks up my sleeve. This is the podcast you’ve been looking for.

I’m Canadian, and perhaps typical of your average Canadian in that I am fond of poutine, crepes with maple syrup, and have, several times, almost collided with moose while driving. Atypically, I know nothing about hockey, and I think winter sucks…winter sports, snow, going outside in winter…pretty much the whole thing. I’m from Kingston, Ontario, which (fun fact) was the original capital of Canada, way back in the 1840s. It’s a beautiful city, known for classic limestone architecture, a picturesque waterfront, a good night life, and…prisons. Many, many prisons. Both myself and several family members have worked in them from time to time over the years, and it was not entirely uncommon when we were growing up to hear that there were some escaped convicts hiding out somewhere around town. At least that made it easier for adults to teach kids about “stranger danger”. Aside from that it’s a university town, popular with tourists, and pretty close to the Thousand Islands, a spectacularly beautiful area that you should totally visit, or at least Google.

I’ve also lived in Ottawa, where I did my degree at Ottawa U, and in Toronto, so basically the Southern Ontario Trifecta, where something like 80% of the population lives. In brief, Ottawa was great in the summer, but the winter was like living in a deep freeze. I think the winters in Ottawa finally pushed me to say “You know, I have to get out of this country for a while, because I’m tired of living in a place where the air hurts my face.” Toronto was interesting because there was more to do, but it was just…a lot. The traffic, the noise, the crowds, the cost of living, the pollution…Toronto made me realize that I’m perfectly happy with any smaller town, so long as it can sustain a good pizzeria and a sushi place. And preferably a circle of people to play board games with. The people in both Ottawa and Toronto though, were A-plus, absolutely fantastic, the best people, great people on both sides. I made some amazing friends that I was sad to leave behind when I came to Japan.

As I write this, I’m in Japan teaching English for the second time, and I’m currently in my tenth year of doing so, if you can believe that. The first time was from 2005-2008, and then I came back again in 2013 after going home and working in Canada for a few years. I have bounced around a bit here, starting in Oita prefecture in a little town called Beppu, then moving to Oita city, then to Okinawa for 5 years, on a small island called Miyakojima. Okinawa was 100% as awesome as you might expect it to be, and I would go back in a hot minute. See what I did there? Hot? Yeah, Okinawa is like living on the sun. At the moment, however, I’m in Fukuoka prefecture, pretty close to where it all began so many years ago in Beppu. Initially I did this through the JET Programme, run by the government of Japan, which places foreign teachers in public schools, and taught mostly junior and senior high school students, with some special needs classes thrown in there. Japanese kids, I have to say, are awesome, wonderful to teach, and completely adorable. If I ever someday decide to adopt I would totally adopt one. They’re like little anime characters.

Some people might wonder why I do what I do. The short answer is, I like doing it, and sorry to be immodest, but I’m really good at it. It’s not really a “career” in the traditional sense, but it’s a decent living, and having tried other things, it’s the best match for my skill set I’ve come across so far. I like children, I like English, I like teaching, I love to travel, and this job allows me to tick all of those boxes. Also, there are relatively few other jobs where you get applause when you enter a room, so there’s that. I also get a chance to meet an amazing collection of people from around the world, and I am convinced that this has enriched my life immensely. I now have friends in the UK, Ireland, America, South Africa, Taiwan, Australia, New Zealand, the UAE, Spain, Portugal, and of course, all over Japan. I get posts on my Facebook feed in at least five languages. Mind you I can’t read most of them, but it is cool.

In Canada, I did do my share of desk work as well. When I went back from 2008-2013, I worked as a contractor in a bunch of government jobs doing administrative stuff, human resources stuff, labour relations stuff, career counseling stuff, accounting stuff, volunteer coordination stuff, but ultimately, I got the itch to travel again. I also admittedly handicapped myself a bit by looking for work in Ottawa, where half the good jobs require French. My French could only be described as embarrassingly bad. If you don’t know, in Canada we study it in school for eight years, plus my father’s family is all French, and I even had a couple of French-speaking roommates in university, but it just never…rubbed…off. At this point my Japanese has far surpassed my French, and my Japanese is still probably what you’d call “intermediate”.

Anyway, my job search in Canada was also horrendously timed to coincide with the Great Recession, so I finally said “ENOUGH” and did what very few people do; I applied to JET a second time. Some people do reapply, but in my Tokyo orientation, they asked for a show of hands of second-time JETs, and in a room with maybe two thousand teachers, myself and about four other people raised their hands. The technical term for us, I believe, is “unicorns”. Typically, it’s a job overwhelmingly done by recent university graduates, and you’re capped at 5 years, after which you have to wait 5 years to apply again. I happened to be getting tired of the grind in Ottawa just as that reapplication window opened up, and long story short, a few months later, I was off to Okinawa.

I ended up staying the full five years in Okinawa because it was AWESOME, easily the best 5 years of my life post-university, and I’ll totally talk about it more eventually. When my time with JET was up, however, I wasn’t quite ready to leave. I looked for private work, but unfortunately nothing presented itself in Okinawa, so I had to come here to Fukuoka, where I’ve been teaching privately since. When I left Okinawa, I had been seeing someone for three years, which played a large part in my wanting to stay, but that ended last year, making my next steps sort of an open question.

To be totally honest, the private teaching has been a bit of a let-down. I came to Fukuoka to teach at an English conversation school, or Eikaiwa, but their teaching style just didn’t gel very well with mine. After so many years, I had a lot of ideas to bring to the table, but the owners were quite set in their own way of doing things. I get that they had a formula that worked, and I understand their reasoning for not wanting to change it, but very few of my ideas were ever really given any consideration. Ultimately it became unsatisfying, and we mutually decided it was best to part ways. After that, I was keen to stay in Fukuoka, so I got a job at what’s called a dispatch company, which hires out teachers to work in public schools. This was not my first choice, and let’s just say the compensation and benefits leave a lot to be desired. I feel like I’m better than ever at my job, but I’m getting paid less than before. Like, way less. If you’re curious about the job market for teachers in Japan and want to hear more about it, that’s another topic I’ll definitely be touching on down the road.

So, at the moment I‘m exploring my options. The podcast is one, and it may or may not gain popularity, but ultimately it’s a means to flex my creative muscles and to connect with more interesting new friends around the world. I would describe myself as someone with a lot of interests, and I need a medium through which to share them, especially now that we’re in full pandemic mode. As I mentioned, I kept a blog in Okinawa, and was lead editor for an Okinawa-wide JET newsletter, but it’s been a while, and I don’t want to get rusty, so here we are. Some of the things I’d love to explore here are psychology and sociology, which I studied in university, how they tie into politics and culture, which I follow closely, relationships, personal growth, the ex-pat experience, teaching, Japan in general, health and fitness (because in addition to the martial arts, I’m a runner and I do yoga), food (because who doesn’t like food, and cooking is a hobby of mine), gaming (of both the computer and board varieties), science, environmentalism, science fiction, futurism…and of course, I’m open to your ideas too, so please share them. I have opinions on just about everything, and I’m always up for a good debate. Eventually I’d love to get people on here to have an actual conversation with, and not just because the pandemic has made me long for human interaction, but because I believe that conversation is one of the most powerful tools we have in making our society better. To quote Sam Harris (who also has a podcast I would definitely recommend) we ultimately have the choice in society between conversation, or violence. I choose conversation.

Another reason I want to do this is that I find it really disturbing just how badly our information space has become cluttered by complete nonsense and idiocy lately. The best way I can think of to combat this is to create a forum where common sense is the foundation for any conversation, adding one more voice of reason to the chorus. While I’m open to new ideas and will gladly chat with people who don’t necessarily agree with me, the number of conspiracy theories gaining ground out there on the internet and even in mainstream media right now is like nothing I have ever witnessed in my lifetime. At a certain point, we have to be clear about what we know and what we don’t, or we start losing touch with reality. Yes, we went to the moon. No, the Earth is not flat. No, there are no Jewish space lasers. Yes, vaccines save lives and no, they do not cause autism. Enough with this stuff, please. It is utterly crucial to the future of our society that we get back to trusting science, and become more skeptical of Joe Schmo on the internet. Everyone is entitled their opinion, but if your opinion runs completely counter to what 95% of the experts in a field of study have to say, your opinion is very probably nonsense. Any meaningful conversation has to start with an understanding of the basic facts, and here, that is exactly where I plan to start, whatever topic is up for discussion.

So, my plan is to link this both in audio and in print on my website, with new podcasts on a weekly or semi-weekly basis. I’d also like to start making videos on Youtube eventually, although my experience in video production is pretty limited, and I’m hesitant to add to the ever-expanding pile of utterly unwatchable Youtube videos out there. It’s early days, so I’m still figuring all this out, but it will be interesting to see how I can improve at this as time goes on. I’m also keen to pick up editing and voice acting engagements, so feel free to contact me about that. In the meantime, I’d love to hear from you get your questions, ideas, comments, anything. If you like the concept of the podcast and you’d like to hear more, I would sincerely love you if you helped out on my Patreon, everything helps. Until next time, stay awesome my friends.

Lucas

PS: here's the link to my Podcast:

https://www.patreon.com/Hellotolucas

If It's Broken, Fix It.

  Clearly, politics is increasingly becoming a depressing subject for most of us. Voter turnout, a prime indicator of how engaged people feel in the political process, was an abysmal 36.4% in last year's US mid-term elections, hitting a 72-year low. In Canada, the numbers are better, hovering around 60% over the past few elections, but this number has been steadily declining for some time. People are losing faith that their votes will make any difference, and when one looks at how the health of our democracies has been eroded over the past few decades, it becomes easy to understand why.

  The definitions of a “healthy democracy” vary, but there are a number of agreed-upon indicators, as well as a number of common-sense factors that are often used as benchmarks. Generally, democracies are defined by the degree to which the citizenry have control over the political decision making process, by having no unreasonable restrictions against those seeking to represent the people, and by ensuring the freedoms of the people. The people, of course, are of paramount concern, and so it should follow that any democratic government is therefore obliged to create institutions and policies that benefit the public in as broad a way as possible, both in the short and long term. Further, there are many varieties of democracy in the world, and each has its strengths and weaknesses, but given that the world has only seen democracy truly flourish in the last century, we are still learning as a global society what works, and what doesn't. Often, nations have implemented policies that looked good on paper, but in practice had seriously negative side effects, and therefore we must learn from these mistakes, while working to cultivate and develop those policies which have proven beneficial. Creating a healthy democracy is an ongoing process, and so the key point to take away is that we must not allow our democracies to become ossified and inflexible. “Change”, so often a rallying cry for political parties, is not just a talking point to be forgotten after election day, but must be built into any democracy that hopes to survive and thrive long-term in a rapidly changing world. As with evolution, is it not the strongest society that survives (read: the one with the biggest sticks), but the one most adaptive to change.

  Today's democracies have come far, and certainly have much to be proud of, but some very serious problems have crept into the political machinery, which erode our democratic institutions, create a cynical distrust within the electorate, and threaten to derail so much of our progress. Voters are not ignorant of these issues, and overwhelmingly want them addressed. However, the political will has been lacking, leading in turn to an even greater gulf between the citizens and the government, one that will grow until solutions are found. Most of you are probably familiar (at least in passing) with these problems. Here I speculate on some potential solutions.

  Firstly, while it is the citizenry that should ultimately be directing the political process, in the last few decades it has become the corporations that are doing so, both directly and indirectly. As time goes on, this is only becoming more prevalent and problematic, and as a result, policies are now often designed with corporate interests foremost in mind, even if they are detrimental to the public good. It should be obvious that this has to stop, and for a number of reasons. The first and most obvious of these is that (despite what some courts may have been bribed into ruling) corporations are not people. The very idea of “corporate personhood” is a rather absurd one, and yet it is an idea that we have allowed to mold the public sphere for decades. While corporations are not given all of the rights that individuals are under the law, they are given equivalency in many areas, and this actually puts individuals at a disadvantage, as individuals typically lack the resources of large corporations, making it impossible to face them in expensive civil lawsuits, for example.

  Just as it is wise to erect a wall of separation between church and state, so too is it wise to erect a wall between market and state, because the pursuit of the common good can be corrupted just as readily by either. The job of government, in the end, is ultimately to guard our common resources and use them to build mutually beneficial infrastructure. However, when corporations are allowed leeway to plunder public resources and infrastructure for their private gain or run public institutions for profit, the public is always the loser in the end. Corporate interests are not public interests, and this distinction needs to be codified into law. Mixing money and politics results only in corruption, and those who claim otherwise are either shockingly naive, or corrupted themselves.

  Secondly, the means by which we as citizens participate in our democracy must evolve with the times. Even though we now live in the Information Age, our voting methods are still archaic, and we do not take advantage of technology as we should, as a means of monitoring and directing the stewards of our nations. As a result, many people feel disconnected, or entirely divorced from the political process. Electing a representative every few years may have been the best we could do in terms of making the government accountable to the public and enforcing our will up until now, but we have the means to do better moving forward. Polls regarding policy can be conducted in real time online, and thus, if we were to make snap elections a legal possibility past a certain threshold of public demand, politicians would become accountable not just every election cycle, but every day. This sort of public accountability is key in providing a bulwark against corruption, and in ensuring the sort of flexibility that a healthy government must possess.

  A combination of technology and policy could also help to make us more informed and engaged citizens...the burden is, after all, not only on the politicians, but on ourselves. The highlights of legislation should be readily available to all citizens in an easily accessible central location, as should be the core policy and voting history of every political party and party representative. Providing this, along with incentives for involvement, would be a recipe for a better, stronger democracy. Many countries ensure that voting days are holidays, to allow time for even the poorest shift-worker to cast a ballot, and some go so far as to fine those who do not participate. While I am more a fan of the carrot than of the stick, sometimes even the healthiest democracy has to use a little of both to nudge the public in the right direction now and then. After all, an informed and involved public is the best shield against tyranny and corruption that there is.

  Thirdly, the concept of the party system itself is long overdue for an overhaul. Just as public participation ties into ensuring that public (and not corporate) welfare is the focus of public policy, so too does the structure of political systems tie into ensuring civil and representative participation. In the past, parties served the dual purpose of rallying like-minded individuals together and of funding those candidates deemed most likely to win in a race. Now, however, both of these functions have become outmoded via technology, and political parties serve more to factionalize the population than anything else. In the US in particular, having only two parties means that people often do not vote for ideas or for a strong platform (as they should) but mostly vote out of habit or out of “clan loyalty” even when they are frequently doing so against their own interests. Political parties by their very nature facilitate an “Us versus Them” mentality, which, in any political system, leads almost inevitably to gridlock and dysfunction. Two-party systems especially are susceptible to this, as there is no room for middle ground, and the past few years are clear evidence of just how bad this can get. Fundamentally, we all have similar needs and similar goals for our society, so there has to be a better way to find consensus.

  So, if party affiliations are an obstacle, why have parties at all? Like-minded individuals no longer need to go to a physical location in order to rally, nor do they need a party – they merely need a sensible platform, a candidate to facilitate it, and an internet connection to do the rest. Funding, likewise, can be handled online, with politicians running Kickstarter-inspired campaigns...at least until we can do away with money in politics entirely. The future of functional democracies, as I see it, must become party-free, and may the candidates with the best ideas win. As I see it, independents are inherently more trustworthy, because they are riding on their own platform and reputation alone, rather than any political party's. This would also tidily eliminate “habit voting”, and encourage people to be more informed.

  Our democracies can get better. Although the challenge looms large, improving them is not beyond us. We just need to muster the collective will, and elect leaders who won't shy away from the task. It seems fairly obvious that the status quo isn't cutting it, right? Winston Churchill put it best: “Democracy is the worst form of government...except for all the others that have been tried.” Surely, having come so far, we are ready to iron out some of the bugs, and come up with something even better.  

The Islamic Dark Age

  The events of the past few months and years have certainly highlighted just how bad things are getting in the Middle East. However, in this region of the world, it has been a long downward spiral, virtually uninterrupted for hundreds of years. There are many competing theories as to why this region is now rapidly destabilizing, and no doubt there are a number of factors, but to a student of history the answer should be clear - we have, after all, seen this pattern before. In what we colloquially refer to as the Dark Ages, from roughly the 6^th to the 13^th centuries, Western civilization experienced a similar dramatic collapse in its ability to grow, develop and move forward. Little notable literature was produced, there were few cultural achievements or architectural marvels created, and society stagnated under the auspices of a corrupt religious authority. Superstition reigned, knowledge was not valued or pursued for its own sake, and as a result, the wheels of progress effectively ground to a halt for several hundred years. Eventually, Europeans began to desire and pursue a deeper understanding of the world and the universe around them again, and with immense effort, dragged their struggling societies out of stagnation and into an era of scientific and cultural enlightenment known as the Renaissance. Today however, it is the Middle East and countries under strict Islamic rule that are increasingly embracing religious doctrine over reason and fact, that can only be best understood as an Islamic Dark Age.

  It wasn't always this way. At its peak, Islam was once a proud sponsor of science and the arts, and during this time the lands it controlled expanded, while it flourished culturally. Unlike today, there was also a broad tolerance of religious diversity. Unfortunately, it has largely turned away from this path over the past several hundred years, and although the rise of Western powers certainly played a role in the decline of Islam, this decline has been and will continue to be only further compounded and exacerbated by the rise of religious fanaticism. The valuation of doctrine over the pursuit of knowledge has taken deep root, to the point that science is frequently regarded as a form of Western propaganda (despite the fact that its principles are, of course, universal), and is considered sacrilegious wherever it conflicts with doctrine. This notion is understandable in a way, as it is the embrace of science that allowed Western powers to dominate many Islamic countries for so long, but science is merely a tool, and any tool is ultimately blameless. This is not strictly an Islamic phenomenon of course; many in the U.S. today see evolution as a threat to biblical literalism, and perpetually embarrass themselves by denying mountains of evidence. In the U.S. however, there is a rational, secular counter-argument to such views, while in Muslim countries such views are met with flogging and beheading. By allowing this anti-science mentality to spread like a virus, Islamic countries are virtually guaranteeing that they will be even more handicapped in the future when competing on the global stage. It is particularly stunning when governments and religious bodies in these countries openly condemn a scientific theory, advancement, or science in general, as any leader worth the title should be able to see the bigger picture, and the long-term results of doing so. This is one of the primary mechanisms by which societies fall into decay, akin to shooting oneself in the foot, and we are watching it unfold now, in real time. The West has had a part to play, there is no avoiding this point, but it must also be acknowledged that Islamic societies are just as culpable in their own ongoing decline.

  In the coming century, information will unquestionably be the deciding factor in the success of societies. We are now, like it or not, fully immersed in the Information Age, and while some Islamic countries have embraced communications technology, this is largely not the case. The reason, of course, is that open information is poisonous to religious ideology. The United States demonstrates this perfectly – previously one of the most pious nations anywhere, positively steeped in Christianity, it is now rapidly secularizing. Those who identify as “non-religious” are the fastest growing group, and this decline in religion almost perfectly corresponds to the proliferation of the internet. As children grow up with virtually unlimited access to information, it is much harder to indoctrinate them into one particular religious ideology. Leaders in theocratic countries are well aware of this, and attempt to counteract it by restricting internet access. However, this is a tide that cannot be held back, and the results are typically the same whenever leaders try to do so. The population grows to distrust and eventually despise leaders that don't trust them to think for themselves, they gain access to information anyway through alternate channels, but not before the country is handicapped both technologically and economically. An open marketplace for ideas is much more innovative, more productive, and more competitive. As such, closed societies will inevitably slide into obscurity as the century progresses and the countries of the world become even more interdependent and reliant on innovation as a driver of the economy.

  I make these points because this slide into decay is not inevitable, and it is my hope that it can be avoided. The world of the 21^st century will be one in which all countries will be tied together, closer than ever before, and as such, as one suffers, we all will suffer. Global prosperity will depend on recognizing our mutual interests, and raising those in poverty to a level where they can contribute to global society and the global economy. The old model, where a few prosper at the expense of the majority, is clearly broken, and is in part a driver of much of the extremism we see today, both in the Muslim world and elsewhere. By working to balance economic disparity, while simultaneously encouraging education (particularly of women), societies can be “jump-started”. This method has worked in the past and continues to work today wherever it is tried, but this cannot be done without the active participation of the countries in question. Fundamentally, it will be up to more moderate and progressive Muslims to make their voices heard, and help their societies overcome stigmas against science education and the empowerment of women. Some Muslim countries are leading by example where this is concerned, and they are clearly doing better than their counterparts in many respects. The least progressive countries, it seems, are the ones buoyed by oil wealth, for they do not feel pressure to change as keenly. For the time being at least, these countries, such as Saudi Arabia, can afford to do as they please, but this time is rapidly drawing to a close. The plummeting price of clean energy, in conjunction with a growing global distaste for oil, mean that these societies are living on borrowed time, unless they begin to embrace change now.

  While it may be demonstrable that societies tend to thrive more readily the more secular they are (look to the Scandinavian countries for example), I am not naive enough to think that the Islamic world is going to secularize anytime soon. It is possible, however, for religious societies to prosper, if one major condition is met: religion and government cannot mix. This, the control of the ruling class by the church, was one of the key reasons for the Dark Age in Europe, and it is theocratic rule which is driving Islam into a Dark Age today. Religion may indeed bring fulfilment to some, but it is, at its core, simply not conducive to effective government. Any society that is interested in making progress should recognize this first and foremost, and build up a wall of separation. Beliefs may drive some individuals, but facts are what drive functional policies and, by extension, functional societies.  

The Case for Space

  “I believe our future depends powerfully on how well we understand this cosmos, in which we float, like a mote of dust, in the morning sky.” - Carl Sagan

  Carl Sagan is one of my personal heroes. He sparked in me, as he did in an entire generation, a deep curiosity about the cosmos. His passion was contagious, and he made the case for space more eloquently than anyone before or since. He understood, and helped the rest of us to understand, that all of our affairs here on Earth - thousands of confident religions, ideologies and economic doctrines - all shrink in significance in comparison to the grandeur of the universe that sits on our doorstep. He knew, and worked tirelessly to remind the rest of us, that it is through exploration that we are able to reach our full potential as human beings. He saw how through exploring the cosmos, we might secure a better future, a better understanding of ourselves, while adding significance and meaning to our lives.

  “The cosmos if filled beyond measure of elegant truths, of the exquisite interrelationships of the awesome machinery of nature.” - C.S.

  Out there, waiting for us, is a vastness that most of us have difficulty comprehending. Think about this, and then think about how much we have gained every time we have worked seriously to push our boundaries in the past. Merely visiting our own moon sparked the discovery of a host of new technologies; so too will pushing out into the solar system move our society forward, in new and often unexpected ways. There is just so much out there that we don't know about or understand, we can barely even begin to define the scope of our own ignorance. What this means, however, is that at virtually every turn we will discover something new to awe and inspire us.

  “How lucky we are to live in this time – the first moment of human history when we are, in fact, visiting other worlds.” - C.S.

  If I were to name the greatest legacy left to us by the previous generation, I would say it was to put a man on the moon. I don't think I would be alone in saying so either. This one event more than any other inspired the world, and defined who we are as a species - we are explorers. We may forget this sometimes, mired down as we often are in our day-to-day troubles, but we should fight to uphold this legacy. Mars, Venus, the rest of our solar system, and the worlds that lie beyond are waiting for us, but only if we maintain our momentum.

  “The surface of the Earth is the shore of the cosmic ocean – recently we've waded a little way out, and the water seems inviting.” - C.S.

  Space has its challenges, sure. Sometimes people die trying to explore it. But every job has risks, and these have to be balanced against the rewards. Space is the ultimate challenge, but the rewards – technological, social, material – are almost incalculable. Furthermore, we know more now than we ever have about how to cope with the challenges, and we can adapt. The smartphone in your pocket has more power than the early space shuttles, after all. There may be setbacks, but if we try, we will ultimately succeed, and emerge stronger on the other side.

  “The sky calls to us; if we do not destroy ourselves, we will, one day, venture to the stars.” - C.S.

  The moon was a testing ground, the first step on a path that will ultimately lead us to the stars. First, however, there is work to be done in our own cosmic neighbourhood, and it is best if we get to it. There are so many goals that are now technically within our grasp, that can give us the footholds in space needed to take even bolder steps beyond. A permanent base on the moon could provide a cheaper launching point for new spacecraft and a source of raw materials. A space elevator would drastically reduce the cost of sending materials into orbit and beyond. A Mars colony would help to ensure the survival of humanity should anything happen to Earth, as well as provide a base for future terraforming efforts. Asteroid mining could provide a huge influx of wealth into the world economy, as many are rich in precious metals and rare earths. Tackling these projects will not only unite us as a species, but enrich us immensely. In a few decades, we could become a truly planetary society – united in purpose, free of poverty, bolstered by incredible new technologies, and ready to work toward and even better future.

  “A still more glorious dawn awaits; not a sunrise, but a galaxy-rise, a morning filled with 400 billion suns.” - C.S.

  Once we have spread to the far corners of our home system, we will no doubt be ready and eager for a bigger challenge. Already we are able to look into space and see planets, some very much like the Earth, circling other stars. Already we are studying the basic principles of faster-than-light travel. It doesn't take a huge stretch of the imagination to see humanity spread across our corner of the galaxy in a few hundred years. Once we spread beyond this solar system, our future as a species is virtually guaranteed. Our descendants, because of our efforts, can be wiser, healthier, happier, free of disease, famine, war, and many of the problems that we take for granted today. The humans that see that future may think, act and look very different from you or I, but it is our generation that can lay the foundations for that future.

  Or, if we forget how far we've come, and lose ourselves in our petty Earthly affairs, we may see this future slip through our fingers. Trapped on our one small world, runaway global warming, an asteroid, a plague, nuclear war, or the eventual destruction of our sun will eventually erase us from history. This, ultimately, is the case for space – survive (and thrive), or go extinct. I believe that in addition to being explorers, we are also survivors, and that we will make the right choice.

Release Your Inner Critic

  There are generally 3 types of critic: The Professional Critic, The Armchair Critic, and the Social Critic. The word critic is usually associated with Professional Critics, or critics of pop culture – movies, music, and literature. They offer their opinion, which is presumably (hopefully) tempered with experience and refined sensibilities, as a means to make a living. While they may irritate artists, particularly when their criticisms aren't flattering, they do serve a useful purpose by helping the rest of us to avoid the “fluff” that makes up a large portion of pop culture, allowing us to spend our precious leisure time appreciating the art that truly deserves our attention.

  Then, there are of course the Armchair Critics. These are regular people, who mostly enjoy criticism for its own sake, and who do not serve any useful purpose. While this type may think their tastes are worth sharing, this is, in my experience, typically not the case. These are people who, rather than helping to elevate the tastes of others, criticize more as a means of making themselves feel better about their own lack of any discernible talent. It is always easier to criticize than to create, and the reason this group is particularly irritating to most people is that all they offer is criticism, rarely constructive, and without putting forth any better alternatives. This essentially boils down to useless whining.

  Finally, there is the Social Critic, the sort that I'm talking about. Overall, They are not Professional, as they only occasionally concern themselves with pop culture, and are rarely paid for their observations. Nor are they Armchair Critics, because they are, as a rule, genuinely informed about the subject matter, and do offer constructive criticism, paired very often with alternative visions of how things might be. The Social Critic, as the name implies, is concerned with issues that run deeper than most of those addressed by pop culture – politics, education, crime, religion and other social issues. I believe that they are the most useful, as they are most needed in order to have a functional and vibrant democracy. Unfortunately, they are also the very type that is most lacking in many societies today. This is the sort of critic I aspire to be, and encourage others to become – one who can recognize deficiencies in our policies, and through public criticism of these flaws, spur the kind of debate that in turn stimulates change.

  Critics are important because discussion and debate are core components of any evolving society. Without these, societies cease adapting to the times, fall into dogmatic repetition of old mistakes, and ultimately crumble from within. Fear of criticism is the ultimate weakness of dictators and despots for this very reason, and the reason why such regimes all ultimately fail. Journalists used to play the role of Social Critic, but in this they are increasingly losing their backbone, afraid of being excluded should they ask difficult questions. The competitive nature of journalism makes this an inevitable problem unless every journalist sticks to their principles, but it seems clear that principles are less important in journalism today than they were in the past...one look at FOX News should be ample evidence of that. Partisan politics is taking priority over objective truth in many cases, which results in journalism barely worthy of the title, and public discussion that solves nothing because it asks all the wrong questions. This is where the new Social Critic comes in...the blogger, the private observer of the public sphere, the voice from the crowd. With no career or political agenda to advance, such “citizen journalists” can be objective in a way that many professional journalists can't, and honest in a way that public figures often shy away from. Political correctness has no place in either a meaningful debate or an interesting blog, and this is but one of the many reasons why the internet is a unique and powerful tool to promote free speech.

  Of course, the internet is full of Armchair Critics...or “trolls”, as they are better known online. It is human nature to voice an opinion even if it is loosely informed, and to avoid admitting a mistake at all costs. This type of discourse dominates the internet, because the anonymity it offers lends itself to obnoxious behaviour. However, on some level we all value the truth, and for some of us this is far more important than getting our two cents in at every opportunity. When we place value and emphasis on objective truth, and when important issues are discussed without anonymity, we can use criticism to burn through the bad ideas, and collaborate to find new and better ones.

  Criticism indeed has some negative connotations because it is essentially making fun of bad ideas. Some ideas, however, deserve to be made fun of. We have to get past the idea that we should never offend anyone, as if being offended gives us some sort of special right or bargaining chip with which to hold the rest of society hostage to our opinions. Sometimes the only way to break down bad ideas is to relentlessly criticize them, regardless of how offended this may make the people who try to prop them up. The Flat Earth, Earth as the centre of the universe, slavery – these are all bad ideas that fell under a relentless assault from informed critics. Ideas which were once considered sacred or core philosophies have been tossed into the dustbin of history, and rightly so, because enough people spoke out against them. Bad ideas often cloak themselves in a layer of righteousness in order to deflect criticism, but being aware of this tactic can help us to immunize ourselves against it. If everyone simply asked questions, relentlessly, where questions are merited, our society could rid itself of bad ideas in no time at all.

  If you desire a life in a free society, one which is modern, just and well-off, being an informed Social Critic is the most productive way to make that happen. Social injustice happens everywhere, all the time, but where leaders know that the people will hold their feet to the fire it happens a lot less. An empowered, educated, and above all vocal population are the ultimate antidote to oppression and bad ideas, and a fertile ground where new ideas can grow. Don't be afraid to be offensive if required – if you're right, people will still respect you, and if they don't, then they're not worth worrying about anyway. In the end, you will accomplish far more and influence many more people if you speak your mind than if you stay silent. There is plenty of time for silence in the grave.  

The Closet Socialist

  I'm willing to go out on a limb, and bet that you actually like socialism more than you might think. That's right, the closet Socialist isn't me, it's you. Frankly, I'm not in the closet about anything.

  In an episode of his show Real Time, comedian Bill Maher spoke at length on the the subject not too long ago. There, he made a simple yet important point: if people actually knew more about what Socialism implies, they would probably realize that it's not a dirty word. It is, in fact, one of the more successful schools of political thought, with the potential to help take our emerging global society to the next level. Let me tell you why in a little more detail.

  In a nutshell, Socialism is simply about sharing risks, responsibility and goals; by working together, we reduce our collective risk, share the collective burden of our responsibilities, and achieve mutual goals that would be far beyond the reach of any one of us working alone. It's about sharing expenses, so we all pay less in times of trouble, and about getting more bang from our collective tax dollars. Smart countries understand this, and although they don't all call it Socialism, to the extent that they do these things, that's exactly what it is. Here in Japan, where I've lived for some time, I see Socialism at work all the time. It's a very collectivist culture, and as such, they understand that working together effectively is a great strength in a society. As a small island nation, Japan has made such a huge mark on the world and in the Pacific Rim in particular because it knows all about teamwork. There is a sense here that everyone watches out for one another, and working toward a common purpose, and this is a powerful motivator. The workforce here is willing to make sacrifices in the name of the common good, and as such are capable of great feats of productivity and innovation relative to their numbers and resources. This is the very kind of motivator needed in any society that ever aspires to call itself “great”.

  In Western society, and in the US in particular, the opposite mentality is often popularized: individuality. The idea is that it's better to be able to stand on your own, fend for yourself...the rugged individualist, the self-made man, these are iconic images in Western society. But unfortunately, the entire concept is a lie. On my more cynical days, I think it was a lie constructed to sell more cigarettes and blue jeans, but there is also something deeper to it than that. During the Cold War, even though the West had many of the same social practices as the Communists, there was a practical need to differentiate itself from its ideological adversary. It chose to do so largely by emphasizing the collectivist/individualist dichotomy. In the poisonous and distrustful political atmosphere of the time, any policy or person with even a whiff of Communist on it became anathema, even if the policy was hugely beneficial or the person a well-intentioned genius. Socialism became an unfortunate casualty of that time. The stale remnants of this Cold War mentality linger even still, far beyond any usefulness, hindering our progress, and it is well past time to dispel them.

  Individualism is a lie because we all, to a greater or lesser extent, live in a society, and depend upon that society for a great many things. While a skilled outdoorsman might claim to be able to survive without the rest of society for a time, he still grew up in a society, got his education as a school paid for by tax dollars, received medical care at a community hospital, and drives the roads paid for by his fellow citizens. While there are those that complain about paying taxes, they nevertheless enjoy the benefits that tax dollars provide, and complain loudly when such amenities are taken away. Living in modern societies, we are products of a social system, like it or not, and the quality of our lives depends very heavily upon just how seriously our particular government takes its social responsibilities. Contrary to the beliefs of some, it is not the job of the government to merely concoct onerous legislation and collect tax money. The most critical responsibilities of any government revolve around how well it administers its tax income to provide essential services. Any government anywhere is not worthy of leadership if it cannot provide for the health and welfare of its people. The popular counter-argument, of course, is that the free market will fill whatever gaps the government can't. Some might go so far as to argue that the government shouldn't be involved in social services at all, leaving even hospitals, prisons and fire departments in the hands of private enterprise. I would struggle to think of any worse idea than this, and for an immense plethora of reasons. However, since I want to keep this under 10 pages, I'll just address the most important ones. 

  Firstly, private enterprise is not looking out for you, and it never will be. Any for-profit organization will share this flaw – the profit motive inevitably poisons its motivations, and corporations have proven time and time again that they are willing to sacrifice quality, people's health, public welfare, public resources, the environment, and just about anything else in order to pad their profit margins. No matter how well regulated, businesses are in it for their shareholders, and if they think they can get away with cutting corners, that is exactly what they will do. In regards to essential services, where you want to ensure quality, a bureaucracy may not always be perfect, but at least with government oversight you are eliminating the profit motive from the equation. Government agencies still can (and do, in many cases) make a profit, but when we're talking about educating our children, safeguarding our health, maintaining our critical infrastructure or protecting us when we sleep, profit should never be the primary motivator. In a socialist system, it isn't.

  Secondly, the free market is not perfectly self-correcting. This is a myth that many conservatives seem to believe with a sort of religious zeal, but it is simply not true. The worst financial disasters of the century, including the recent recession from which we are just now recovering, were perpetuated by financial organizations and corporations that were allowed to run largely without any serious regulation. Left to their own devices, they did not create a perfectly fair and balanced system – they engineered a system that robbed people of their life savings in order to line the pockets of an elite few. Due to weak legislation, they were free to manipulate the markets, exploiting loopholes and nearly bringing the world economy to its knees in a staggering display of self-interest, cronyism and corruption. Afterwards, these same organizations accepted taxpayer money in the form of bailouts, from which, I might add, they saw fit to pay their chief executives salaries that could only be described as grotesque and embarrassing, given their very recent and very staggering incompetence. In short, this does not sound like a self-correcting system to me. Government oversight and regulation are how the people ensure their rights are not trampled on by corporations, and the moment these regulations are relaxed, as we have seen, the trampling almost immediately begins. In a socialist system, the government does not dictate how the market works, as many may think it does. Rather, it harnesses its innovative power to maximize the market's potential, via tax incentives and similar programs, while mitigating the harm a free market may cause, such as damage to the environment or to public health. Common sense, right?

  Finally, I would argue that too much choice is a bad thing. While the free market is admittedly great at providing consumers with options, these options are not always necessary, or different from one another in any but the most cosmetic ways. While some choice is certainly desirable, surveys and other market research often find that consumers are actually overwhelmed by the huge array of choices that they can find in most Western markets. This is a large part of why Western markets produce such gargantuan amounts of waste – with so many options, many simply get tossed aside. It also creates a dangerous false mindset that there must be limitless supplies of everything available in order to produce such options. This is turn makes people waste more and conserve less – pretty much the exact opposite of what we need if we are to have any hope of combating climate change. What we need are goods that are functional, sustainably produced, easily recyclable, and long lasting. The market has demonstrated (ad nauseum) that it won't do this without regulation. Anything that costs a bit extra up front, even if it may pay off in the long term for both society and the business itself, is generally a no-go. The regulation of the means production, while perhaps a touchy subject due to its “Commie” overtones, is actually a very viable argument if we ever hope to reign in our society's rampant consumption and waste. Perhaps, with the advent of 3-D printing, consumers will be able to bring the means of production home, making exactly what they need exactly when they need it. By encouraging this technology, government could bypass mass producers entirely, and even put the worst environmental offenders out of business by eroding their market. This is socialized production, and to me, a very elegant solution to a number of problems at once. Similarly, subsidies and other means of government encouragement could also to socialize energy production, with solar panels on every home, making the grid much more diffuse, clean, stable and resistant to natural disasters. This is already widely practised in Japan, and with great success – it probably even saved lives after the devastating earthquake and tsunami in 2011.

  So we all, in some way, benefit from socialist principles. In essence, it is strength in numbers. When you think about it, this is really all that society is in the first place, so it does baffle me a little how we got to the place where some of us actually ridicule socialism. Whenever people take the time to understand and dispel preconceptions, it's not even a very hard sell; most people find that somewhere, deep down, they actually supported socialism all along, and all they needed was a little push to come out of the closet.