Provo Post 4: Can We Be a Winning Team?

Question: Why do some sports teams win year after year?
Answer: Obviously, because they have the resources to hire and train the best players.

While writing my last post, I happened on a distinction that I hope is a major theme in this series: exhorting verses incentivizing. Think about it. When a pro sports team like the Lakers or the Yankees wants a major player, they don't just harp on how great the team is. Instead, they prove to the player that there is a direct personal benefit to be won by coming to the new team. Usually that benefit is a fat paycheck.

The lesson, I think, is that if Provo is not (yet) as successful, exciting, hip, or whatever as we want it to be, the incentives aren't (yet) sweet enough.

Provo is definitely getting better at attracting talent. New businesses are opening, the airport has gone commercial, old businesses are expanding, etc., etc. If Provo wasn't showing a lot of promise right now I don't think I would have been inspired to blog about the city.

But Provo needs to do a better job. Do we want to be the Los Angeles Lakers, or the Sacramento Kings? Daily I look at the handful of decent business on State Street in Orem and wonder why they would choose to be in the midst of sleazy payday loan centers and (what look like) meth labs, when they could be in Provo. Before my current job, I worked at a successful, very cool technology company. The only downside was it's location, in an ugly building on an ugly street in American Fork. Similarly Adobe is opening up a new facility, near Point of the Mountain. Why there? (Proximity to the prison? All new Adobe employees will hang-glide to work?)

Obviously reasons behind location choices are diverse and complex, but each time a business chooses to locate elsewhere it's a loss for Provo. To counter this, Provo should actively court and lobby businesses from both in and out of the state, enticing and incentivizing them to come to Provo. (Perhaps something like this already exists? Maybe some sort of lobbying committee organized or run by the city government? I hope so, but I haven't heard about it. Also, the gains of such an effort should far outweigh the costs.)

Of course, enticing strong businesses to come to the city is fairly obvious. Who doesn't want that? But equally important is getting residents to embrace those businesses, as well as the incentives offered to them. That could include land deals, fee or license waivers, rent control, or any number of actions the city could take to make Provo more economically and culturally attractive. "Whatever it takes" could be the slogan. Some of these actions may not be initially popular, but they will have long-term benefits.

I was reminded of the importance residents embracing incentivizing Saturday night, when I was at the grocery store around 11:50 p.m. As I poked around for cheeses, an employee got on the PA and announced that alcohol sales would stop at midnight. I don't drink and had forgotten that such a policy exists in Provo, but as soon as I heard the announcement I realized it was a perfect example of a law that hamstrings Provo's development. On top of Utah's generally byzantine liquor laws (which are widely seen in the hospitality industry as economically damaging), Provo has additional rules that not only reduce local stores' sales tax, but generally make life a pain for anyone who isn't an orthodox Mormon.

The point is that if Provo residents want to become more prosperous, have more cultural offerings, and enjoy a higher standard of living (which I believe they do), we need to make the city more inviting to diverse people with diverse values. Related to alcohol sales on Sunday, that survey the city recently conducted returned several comments about getting rid of the bars and smoke shops in downtown. Fair enough, I guess, but those are apparently successful businesses. They generate sales tax revenue. They bring people into the city who might not otherwise come. They make it more diverse and ensure that downtown isn't completely empty.

Whether or not new businesses coming to Provo have anything to do with alcohol or other things local Mormons avoid, the point is that prosperity hinges on diversity. Returning to the sports analogy, when a team courts a star player they don't worry much about the player's background, tattoos, or even scandals. They worry about what that player can do on the court or field. Having strange policies (or even a subtle cultural leaning) that demonized some backgrounds, body art, or scandals would doom a team because the best players couldn't join.

Likewise, the city must make itself appealing to more than the usual crowd. Residents have to realize that the presence of people with different values — who dress and look differently, who patronize different kinds of entertainment, who consume different foods and drinks — is actually beneficial to them for so many reasons.

In other words, incentivizing means compromising, both of which produce prosperity.

Goodbye Academia Part 7: What I'll Miss

This series has to end sometime, and that time is now. Though I could probably write indefinitely on the topics of academia and my life, I'd like to conclude by mentioning what I'll miss about not being a part of academia. After all, I did spend a massive amount of time, a ton of money, and a lot of stress trying to get into a PhD program. Obviously, I wanted to go, even if there were other things I was (and am) interested in doing. So here are a few things that I'll really miss about not being an academic.

1.(Producing) Big ideas. I can't think of another profession where people are paid to sit around and think about big ideas like "ethics" or "humanity" or "art" or a lot of other things. Whether it's researching, teaching, etc., academics are supposed to turn a critical eye on culture. They're supposed to make connections and see things about the big picture that are hidden from others. That's something that journalistic writing—as well as many other things I've done—don't really do. They're more interested in presenting information. Scholars, on the other hand, produce information. That really appeals to me, and is probably the thing I will miss the most.

2. Being on campus. Have you ever seen a sappy, poorly-made movie about high school seniors about to graduate. Its the best time of their lives! As silly as those depictions are, that's largely how I feel about being in college. I was cutting across BYU's campus to get to the Daily Herald the other day, for example, when I realized just how enjoyable it is to be in the bustle of a college campus. There's always a bunch of interesting things going on. Living near a college provides similar opportunities, but I've found that not being in school makes it harder to know about them and participate.

3. Teaching. This might be a strange thing to put on here, given my previous posts, but there are great parts of it too. If I could teach one course a semester, for the rest of my life, while doing other interesting things, that might be ideal. In any case, while I won't miss grading, I will miss being in a classroom with students.

4. Discussion. Obviously, discussion can go on anywhere, but at a college it is supposed to happen. I've also found that many people outside of the classroom/college don't have the time or inclination (or stomach) for heated, passionate discussion. Most workplaces, church settings, etc. aren't really set up for people to bring up ideas and argue out their disagreements. Though I try to have discussions with people where ever and whenever I can, I find that A) it still happens much less often post-college than during college, and B) a lot of people just get offended or defensive when people push back against their ideas. There's probably a lot of reasons for this fact, but my experience is that there are few thick-skinned intellectuals outside of the academic setting.

5. Flexibility. This is a practical concern, but an important one. Being a professor allows people to largely determine their own schedules. As long as they get things done, they can work early or late, or whatever. I think I thrive in that sort of environment. I like working, for example, at 2 a.m., and sleeping in late. One day I might be one fire with ideas, and the next I might be lacking. I like how academia, though busy, gives professors a greater degree of flexibility than many jobs. I'm sure everyone wants a job like that, but until recently, I was actively pursuing one.

6. The Political Orientation. Let's be honest, most academics are liberal. And though I hate labels, I typically find myself in agreement with liberal politics. The prospect of being surrounded by people with whom I agree is immensely appealing. That's probably because I currently live in Utah, and I'm constantly surrounded by conservative fanatics who claim the Tea Party isn't racist or idiotic. But seriously, I'm so tired of being a lone liberal on a sea of hyper-conservatism. Some people want academia to be more politically diverse, and objectively I know that's a good thing, but secretly I just want to go to a place where people seem to care about each other, are willing to sacrifice for the good of others, and see government as a collective choice to help the less fortunate. Also, the conservatives I know in academia (or in my program) are smart, insightful, and decorous about their views. So, ultimately, academia is conducive to being a liberal, and if nothing else values respect and rational justifications for whatever conclusions people arrive at. (Maybe what I want is to be surrounded by people who investigate and are interested in politics, regardless of their orientation.)

7. The Culture. The people who go into academia are a self-selecting bunch, and they're into certain cultural things. Even the most mainstream of my professors had a decent understanding of pop culture, for example, and I remember having several interesting conversations with different professors about growing and preserving food at home. Academia isn't hipster-ville, of course, but the professors I admire take a holistic approach to culture and seem to think it is important to be conversant in things outside their disciplines. Obviously there are people like that outside of academia, but in the college community that approach to culture is common, even expected. If nothing else, academics seem to be interested in trying new things. Those things may be approaches to literary theory, or something like twitter or Lady Gaga.

Well, this could go on and on, but it's already a lot longer than I wanted it to be. Also, none of things are necessarily unique to academia, but I think they're all present there, and in abundance. I'm not sure there's another field where that is the case.

He’s Just Not That Into You: A Fantasy about White, Upper-Class, Urban Professionals

What makes the recent romantic comedy He’s Just Not That Into You so frustrating is that it completely botches what could have been an interesting and entertaining premise.  Unfortunately,  the movie takes all the conventions we might normally see in a rom-com and slathers them with an insipid, faintly bigoted tone. 

Basically, He’s Just Not That Into You tells the story of a bunch of urban professionals and their various pursuits of love.  The assorted relationships are complex and intertwined, but not interesting enough to go into here.  What actually stands out is how unsympathetic all the characters are.  Ginnifer Goodwin’s Gigi, for example, is the axis around which everything else seems to rotate, but she is also a socially retarded stalker.  It’s not remotely funny or endearing (though it tries to be), and by the end of the movie I just wanted something really bad to happen to her.  To some extent or another, that’s how I actually felt about most of the characters: they’re flat, uninteresting stereotypes that aren’t even fun in a mindless romantic-comedy way. 

Still, what makes this particular movie worth mentioning isn’t it’s trite story (which could nevertheless have been interesting), but rather the strangely homogenous world it seems to advocate.  In this world almost everyone is white.   If they aren’t white they’re probably a construction worker, which also means they’re an undocumented immigrant.  Also, everyone is rich and lives in hip, spacious apartments with exposed brick.  (Or, when Ben Affleck breaks up with Jennifer Aniston, he luckily has an expensive yacht to live on).   Similarly, all the character’s work environments are absurdly cool.  Each work place looks like an Ikea ad.  At Drew Barrymore’s job, the men can actually walk around with their shirts unbuttoned to their waists.  (Don’t get me wrong; I think it’d be cool to work in a place like that, I just am skeptical that such places exist and if they do why are they all in this one movie?)       

The main problem with this hyper-cool world is that it leaves a lot of people out while actively marginalizing others.  For example, Luis Guzman’s portrayal of Javier was actually one of the more entertaining performances, but he was only on screen for a few minutes (and wasn’t even credited).  There are a number of African American actors in the film, but they all have minor roles and work for the more successful white characters.  Maybe these casting decisions were made to appeal to some specific audience, but I just kept wondering why the filmmakers didn’t include any non-white actors in their ensemble cast.  The ensemble was big enough to do so, and there are many successful actors who don’t identify as white, so it almost seems like an active decision to cut minorities out of the picture. 

If the portrayal of minorities in He’s Just Not That Into You is problematic, the way it deals with homosexuality is simply offensive.  Like a number of Hollywood productions that have come before, this film seems to think that all gay men are effete, lispy stereotypes that are only good for comic relief.  The entire film I kept waiting to be introduced to a major gay character, or at least someone who was complicated and who didn’t fit a stereotype that was forged in 90s sitcoms and was outdated from the beginning.  Unfortunately what did happen was that like the film’s racial minorities, homosexuals played insignificant parts and served merely as a foil for more important characters.  Thus, in the end, the film’s attempts at diversity only ended up confirming its thesis that rich, white people are the coolest and have all the fun.

He’s Just Not That Into You is, in a round about way, a descendant of Sex and the City, which itself seems to be part of a larger trend to telling stories about cool urbanites and all their hip adventures.  Maybe I should be paying more attention to this genre; I think that urban living is culturally attractive and has the potential to be environmentally ethical.  However, this film disregarded all of the social benefits of urban living in favor of a strange, homogenous fantasy.  If all film might be accused of being fantasy, this film took it to a different level by saying that only white, upper-class, urban professionals get invited to the party.