“Gordon focused on a seeming oddity first noticed by the linguist Paul Kiparsky; compounds can be formed out of irregular plurals but not out of regular plurals. For example, a house infested with mice can be described as mice-infested, but it sounds awkward to describe a house infested with rats as rats-infested. We say that it is rat-infested, even thought by definition one rat does not make an infestation. Similarly, there has been much talk about men-bashing but no talk about guys-bashing, and there are teethmarks, but no clawsmarks. Once there was a song about a purple-people-eater, but it would be ungrammatical to sing about a purple-babies-eater. Since the licit irregular plurals and the illicit regular plurals have similar meanings, it must be grammar of irregularity that makes the difference.

…

Gordon found that three- to five-year-old children obey this restriction fastidiously. Showing the children a puppet, he first asked them, “Here is a monster who likes to eat mud. What do you call him?” He then gave them the answer, a mud-eater, to get them started. Children like to play along, and the more gruesome the meal, the more eagerly they fill in the blank, often to the dismay of their onlooking parents. The crucial parts came next. A “monster who likes to eat mice,” the children said, was a mice-eater. But a “monster who likes to eat rats” was never called a rats-eater, only a rat-eater. (Even the children who made the error mouses in their spontaneous speech never called the puppet a mouses-eater.) The children, in other words, respected the subtle restrictions on combing plurals and compounds inherent in the word structure rules. This suggests that the rules take the same form in the unconscious mind of the child as they do in the unconscious mind of the adult.

…

The children produced mice-eater but never rats-eater, even though they had no evidence from adult speech that this is how languages work.Gordon’s mice-eater experiment shows that in morphology children automatically distinguish between roots stored in the mental dictionary and inflected words created by a rule.” – The Language Instinct by Steven Pinker

Parents and teachers historically tend to operate under the belief that babies and children do very little thinking of their own. Or that kids’ minds are blank slates when they are born and when they start school. It’s a common belief that children learn their mother tongue by repeating what the mommy and daddy say. Teachers assume that their first graders take their teacher’s word for facts about science.

Yet, none of the above assumptions is true.

There is increasing evidence to the contrary. One-year-olds might be born with a certain grammatical structure or they might be developing it instead of merely imitating mommy’s words. First graders already have ideas on why we can see an object and how darkness affects our vision. No matter how ‘clearly’ a teacher might explain a scientific fact, it often doesn’t override the misconceptions the child has already built in his head.

It seems to me that we underestimate children. We never even think to ask them if they have an idea on why the sky is blue or what makes a seed grow into a tree. We assume they don’t know until we teach them.

And you know what happens when you assume, don’t you?

Previously? Intents.

“Courage is the mastery of fear, not the absence of fear.” – Mark Twain

Mark Twain’s quotes are often my favorite, but this one has a special significance to my current state of mind.

I think most people assume that if you take a risk you must either be stupid or fearless. Why else would you give up all you have for a questionable future? Especially now that the markets are bad, the future of everyone is up in the air. This is no time to take risks.

So I must be fearless, right?

I must be a snob. I must be secure in my abilities. I must be rich. I must be dumb.

Well, I’m not.

I just believe in the power of fear and the necessity of conquering it.

A while back, I wrote about how sometimes it’s okay to ignore an issue. Sometimes time helps issues disappear. Sometimes you change your mind. Sometimes you just learn to let go.

But that’s not the case with fear. Fear tends to grow with avoidance.

Imagine you’re in a bad relationship and you’re scared to leave him or her for fear that you might never find ‘the one.’ So you put it off. Another year passes and now your relationship is even worse, yet you’re a year older, and even more scared to leave. Another year and you’re even worse off. One more year, and you’re completely stuck. You may never get out.

The same applies to pretty much everything of which you’re afraid. A bad job, moving out, moving in, a bad friend. The longer you’re in, the harder it is to get out.

The trick is not ‘not to fear’, it’s to face your fears. To attack them head on and remind yourself that you deserve better. Or at least that you owe it to yourself to try. As Shakespeare said, “Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.”

Cause if you don’t try, you cannot possibly achieve.

So I’m going to try. I am scared. But I want to try. I need to try. I will try.

Care to join me?

Previously? Cuppcik.

A little over a year and a half ago, I lived in Japan for about six months. Knowing I was going to be alone in a non-English-speaking country for that long, I brought along twenty-three books. I figured they would last me at least for the first month, after which I was scheduled to be in New York to celebrate the new year with Jake, and to be at work for Y2K support.

One of the books I had with me was Jane Smiley’s Duplicate Keys. The novel, in my opinion, isn’t Smiley’s best. Actually, it was quite forgettable and such I can’t remember most of the plot.

But, as in most of her novels, the characters were enticing and one of them mentioned something that stuck in my mind. Since the novel is about a murder, each of the characters that has a key to the apartment where the murder occurred, of which there are many, starts discovering things about the others and suspecting them. One of the characters mentions that she’s surprised how little she knew about her boyfriend with whom she’d been for quite some time.

The question of “how well do we know the people we think we know” starts dancing around in my mind. I sit down at my computer and start typing everything I know about Jake. I start with the basic facts: how he looks, his family, his background, etc. I move into preferences, past concerns, life goals, wishes, dreams, failed attempts. Then I move onto the really private things. Traits that I assume only I, or an exclusive set of people, know.

I look through my list and feel good. After five years, I know Jake quite well. Or so I think. I move on to make lists for the other special people in my life. Close friends. Even my sister.

I’m surprised at some of the details I remember. I’m also interested to see the pattern in some cases where I know a lot in one category and practically nothing about another. If it’s so consistent, it must be me and my way of relating to others.

I like the idea of ‘seeing’ how much I know about a person in my life. I like knowing the holes in my familiarity. I like speculating on why they’re there. Was it my choice or his? Did she just not want to divulge or did I never think to ask? Are we really as close as we seem? Do I know anything about her childhood? What about his disappointments?

I recommend that you try to make your own list. At least one. Pick a significant other, a best friend. Write down all you know. From the most obvious to the subtlest detail. Put it all on paper.

See how well you know the people closest to you.

Previously? Permanence.

“The point is…the point is how I feel. I don’t care what gets done. I just don’t want to die feeling that I never tried. I don’t believe in Heaven, or anything. But I want to be the kind of person who qualifies an entry anyway. Do you understand?

Of course I understand. I’m a doctor.

Nick Hornby’s new book, How To Be Good, raises many interesting points about the meaning of being good, marriage, family life, charity and cynicism. Although it’s not directly related, the exchange above made me realize why I don’t like some of the ideas that have become linked with Heaven and Hell.

My personal beliefs on the existence of Heaven and Hell aside, I don’t like the implication that someone should “do good” so they can be allowed in Heaven. To me that sounds just as conniving as lying to get your way.

You should never do anything because you expect something in return. I’ve always believed that doing something because you want to or like to is the only acceptable reason. Anything besides that is guaranteed to leave you, and the other people involved, displeased.

Life is so very short and it makes no sense to waste your precious moments on something that makes you unhappy. I understand that people work so they can earn money so they can go on vacations or afford other things that make them happy. And, while I have another rant saved just for that case, that’s not the scenario I’m talking about here. I’m talking about doing something because someone guilted you into thinking that’s what you should do.

What’s the point of doing something out of guilt? How much satisfaction do you feel after you’ve completed an act that someone else thought to be “important that you do”? How much energy do you put into doing something that someone else deems necessary? Do you think people are so stupid that they don’t notice your heart’s not in it?

What’s the point?

Are you trying to cheat people, or God in the case of heaven, into thinking that just cause you go through the motions of doing something that someone else ‘strongly urged’ you into doing, that they suddenly will think you’re this amazing and dedicated person? No one, but you, loses in the end. You’re the one who gave up the time to do something that you didn’t care to and you’re the one who doesn’t truly feel rewarded since deep-down you know you never wanted to do it anyway.

Talk about a sell-out.

I think you should help the homeless if it means something to you. Six mentioned a while back about reducing your guilt and how you should call your old grandma Jane only if you actually want to talk to her. There are no guarantees in this life and real and honest people, their emotions and God can not be bribed. Guilt is nothing but manipulation and doing something in the hopes of getting something in return is awfully close to bribery.

Stop fooling yourself.

Previously? Crush Me.

People do not knowingly join “cults” that will ultimately destroy and kill them. People join self-help groups, churches, political movements, college campus dinner socials, and the like, in an effort to be a part of something larger than themselves. It is mostly the innocent and naive who find themselves entrapped. In their openhearted endeavor to find meaning in their lives, they walk blindly into the promise of ultimate answers and a higher purpose. It is usually only gradually that a group turns into or reveals itself as a cult, becomes malignant, but by then it is often too late. -Deborah Layton in Seductive Poison

Until recently, I hadn’t spent longer than three seconds of thinking time on the topic of cults. I had no reason to; I had never known anyone who had ever had any involvement, to any degree, with cults.

To me, cults had always been something weak people joined. People who lacked the capacity to think for themselves. People who wanted others to make the decisions in their life. People who could easily be deceived. I knew I would never join a cult. I even remember the Hale-Bopp incident and how we laughed at the stupidity of the people. I never stopped to think what had caused these people to become non-individuals that acted like lemmings. I assumed they had always been so.

A few weeks ago, I got in touch with an old college friend. A good friend who had asked me to call him a few months prior but between my vacation and usual hectic state, I’d put off calling him. When I finally got around to dialing his number, it didn’t take me long to ask about his girlfriend and get the shocking news. This girl that he’d dated for quite some time, a computer scientist, had left him to join a cult. Of course, she denied its being a cult, but it was quite obvious to him and I knew him to be rational and felt confident taking his word.

I must admit that “joining a cult” would not have been in my top-500-reasons-why-couples-break-up list. As I plunged into my diatribe of how I would never join a cult, he asked me to read Seductive Poison and said we would chat afterwards. I read the novel and decided the above quote drove home the point my friend was trying to make.

While I still think it takes a certain mindset to join a group that evolves to be a cult, I can recognize that it’s a lot more likely for a regular human to temporarily enter such a mindset than I would have originally thought. There are times in most people’s lives where we feel like we’re ready to give up. It might be because you lost a loved one, a job, a lot of money or many other reasons. But almost all of us go through a phase, however short or long it might be, where we feel alone, misunderstood and under-appreciated. Many of us lack self-esteem and want to make our loved ones proud.

The cult-leaders strike during those moments. They take the person who feels at the bottom and lift him up. They give him a purpose. They make him feel proud and important. Since most cults start as an encouragement or salvation tactic, they don’t cause alarm flags to rise in the person’s mind. By the time, the movement becomes a full-fledged cult, the people on the inside have long stopped questioning.

And that’s the crucial point.

You must never stop questioning. It’s necessary to reevaluate life constantly. Once you stop questioning, you never notice anything, you are now no different than a sheep in a herd. We display this behavior consistently. We think a lot before we make a decision but once it’s made, we don’t feel the need to reconsider it.

A common pitfall in long-term relationships is not realizing that you’ve long stopped loving your partner. You’re still together only cause it’s practical and that’s how it’s always been. Same goes for a long-term job. You don’t ponder whether you still like it. You just do it day in and day out until you get to the next level and then you keep doing what you need to to get to the next level, and so on. You never stop and think about whether you are happy.

The only time we stop to rethink is if something major goes wrong. A partner cheats or you don’t get an expected promotion. At that point, you’ve hit another low.

I’ll buy that if you’re depressed enough, you may be out of your mind enough to get involved in a cultish movement, but once you’ve recovered a bit of your sense of self, it’s best to rethink every decision before being forced to do so.

It’s the necessary tool for you to be in control of your own life.

Previously? Choke.

The same mentality of utter indifference to costs can be seen in a newly refurbished elementary school in the little village of Ichinosetakahashi, on the slopes of Mount Fuji. The principal’s office has a gleaming new bell and loudspeaker system to broadcast messages and summon the student body from recess. But during my visit in 1998, I quickly realized that it would be simpler to yell through the window for Daiki Saito to come in.

Daiki, a seven-year-old with a mischievous sparkle in his black eyes, is the only student in the entire school…. It costs $175,000 a year to run Daiki’s school….

As a Japanese taxpayer, I was appalled at this waste of money and at the resulting 65 percent marginal personal tax rates, but it was difficult to find Japanese who were equally outraged. Many Japanese seemed profoundly torn, for they worried that efficiency would come at the expense of egalitarianism and social harmony. I found this view enormously admirable and utterly impractical. When I spoke to Daiki’s principal, Tomishige Yazaki, he was not in the least apologetic about the expense. “If we just pursued efficiency,” he said, “the world would become a very dry place with no sensitivity.” – Nicholas D Kristof in Thunder from the East

Yesterday, I was at my acupuncturist’s and I mentioned to her that I was reading a book on Asia and that she might be interested in it since she’s traveled to different Asian countries and her work is closely tied to Asian culture.

At the time the section I was reading gave insight into the reasons of the recent Asian crisis and I was telling her about some of the reasons when she said, “Well, maybe that’s not what matters to them, Asia has some of the most developed spiritual and cultural identities in the world.”

Her comments combined with the lines above made me ponder why a sensitive and caring business and a thriving and successful one has to be mutually exclusive. Is it really impossible for a company to do well without compromising the happiness of its employees?

I’m hoping the answer is No or life is really depressing for those of us who work in corporate America.

Earlier this week, Jake and I watched an episode of The Charlie Rose Show where Herb Kelleher, the CEO of Southwest Airlines was the guest. Here’s a rare example of an outstanding company in almost every way. A culture that brings people together and doesn’t single out company executives with special perks. A corporation that has record profits year after year. A CEO who is humble and caring. A company that recognizes major personal events in the lives of each of its employees.

And, unfortunately, as of now, a rare exception.

Herb Kelleher is retiring soon and he mentioned that he might write a book to tell the story of Southwest Airlines. I certainly hope he does.

Maybe, then, his company might move from being the exception to being the norm.

Previously? Hiding.