Facebook at Work and other High Crimes and Misdemeanors

It happens every now and again, I'll meet up with an old classmate or a friend (who I'm also a Facebook friend with) and, as it does, the conversation turns to work:

Friend: "So how's work going?"

Me: [Something non-committal or tongue-in-cheek like:] "Well, they haven't fired me - yet!"

Friend: "I see you on Facebook a lot during the day."

Me: ....

You caught me.  I go on Facebook during work. I know, I know, it is unfathomable that during a nine-hour workday I might take 5-10 minutes to write up a quick post about something I found to be interesting, funny, or otherwise noteworthy (that isn't to say it is). I do admire your slavish dedication to your work, and I am sure your day is completely devoid of any non-work related activities such as web-surfing, texting, personal phone calls, smoke breaks, coffee breaks, personal business, errands, water cooler gossiping, and the like. Although I suppose the difference between my Facebook posting and any of those activities is that I would have no evidence that you were doing any of them. For all I know, you are a busy little bee at work, busting your ass for the bottom line. I tip my hat to you, you obedient cog in the machine of corporate productivity.

So, yeah, you're full of shit.  First of all, you see me on Facebook?  And how is it that you are seeing me? Are you checking your newsfeed after work, looking at the timestamp on my status, and doing the math?  If so, I'm flattered by your stalker-like fascination with me.  You are definitely an anomaly, judging by my blog stats; the world could use more of you. But more likely you see these statuses because you, yourself, are on Facebook during the day too. Granted, you are smart enough not to post anything, lest your moral superiority be compromised.  Well, judging by the amount of ignorance that permeates my Facebook feed, that does take a certain amount of self control, so kudos.

But let's cut the crap, can we? Of employees between the ages of 18 and 35, approximately 73 percent reported spending time inappropriately at work on a daily basis. And, of course, that's just those with the stones and/or the self-awareness to admit they are doing so. Some cite that they feel underutilized at work. That's not a common theme for associates at law firms. Rather, I would posit the real reason for such mental restlessness is that such behavior is completely natural.

Those who study these things have known for a long time that your brain craves downtime. The linked article from Scientific American is very interesting:

To summarize, Americans and their brains are preoccupied with work much of the time. Throughout history people have intuited that such puritanical devotion to perpetual busyness does not in fact translate to greater productivity and is not particularly healthy. What if the brain requires substantial downtime to remain industrious and generate its most innovative ideas? "Idleness is not just a vacation, an indulgence or a vice; it is as indispensable to the brain as vitamin D is to the body, and deprived of it we suffer a mental affliction as disfiguring as rickets," essayist Tim Kreider wrote in The New York Times.

The article is admittedly geared more toward taking more substantial breaks from work -- days, weeks, or (gasp) months as opposed to the ADHD-like tab opening that comprises most of my goofing off at work. But I would argue that such activity is no less necessary to my mental health, and ultimately my ability to think clearly and creatively, abilities that are vital to most professions, but definitely the law. Just like manual laborers must take breaks to rest, more cerebral (or at least sedentary) laborers must do the same.  Your muscles can't work for nine hours straight, neither can your mind.

And the mind is much more fickle than any other muscle.  Sometimes you have to kick it in the cerebellum every five minutes to keep it going; sometimes, once it starts, you can't stop it.  Much better to embrace our mental rhythms and work with them, instead of against them, don't you think?  And if you agree, why don't you share this on Facebook? #shameless

 

 

"Pay Attention to ME!": Attention-Seeking Behavior and Theater, Blogging, Life

Is it working?

Despite the partial theater theme in this blog's title, I have yet to talk about that area of my life very much. Part of that is circumstantial, I suppose, I usually write posts in my downtime at work, and my mind is focused on work-related (lawyer-y) issues. The other part is that I haven't really written very much ... yet. In any case, today's post shoots at the heart of local theater's very existence: our need for attention.

I think it is comical, and even a bit scary, how far socialization into polite society requires us to mask our basic desires. Despite mankind's creation of civilization, our biology is still that of an animal. And like other animals, our instincts drive much of our behavior.  We crave food, of course, and (at least in our part of the world) that instinct is easily satisfied, so easily in fact that obesity is an epidemic in America. We crave sex, which, unless you're Wilmer Valderrama (for some damn reason), is a trickier proposition for modern man. But even from the time we are little children, long before the urge to smush our private bits into someone else's presents, we crave attention.

Why do we crave others' attention so viscerally? No doubt it is an evolutionary advantage to be adept at drawing attention to oneself; a child who can demand attention effectively is more apt to have his needs met and survive to maturity. Equally as likely is that attention-seeking behavior is a precursor to sex-seeking behavior. See, e.g., the majestic peacock:

Hey baby.

But whatever the reason, attention is vital to us. Accordingly, lack of attention causes some real, if occasionally "first-world," problems, such as the one addressed by this NY Times article: Study Finds Being Ignored on Facebook May Lower Self-Esteem. And while little kids have cuteness and less socially-imposed restrictions in their battle for attention, we adults are forced to be a little more creative. Because while identifiable attention-seeking behavior is cute in kids ("Aww, someone wants attention!"), to be labeled an "attention-seeker" as an adult is anything but cute ("Diva," "Drama Queen," "Attention Whore," he/she is "fishing for compliments," "vaguebooking").

No, to get attention as an adult, at least in a way that won't inspire contempt, you have to earn it.  So we try: we tell jokes, we write blogs, we create art, we sing, dance, act. And the better we do these things, the stronger the flow of attention they bring. We even work ourselves to death in high-profile careers so that we might inspire feelings of admiration, jealousy ... anything really as long as they are thinking about us.

It's pathetic, really. But it is ultimately always better to embrace reality than to flee from it.  Humans are vulnerable, needy, sometimes pathetic creatures. So let us embrace our pathetic needs and, in keeping with the "pathos" root of the word, empathize with others and their primal needs.  Applaud each other in our miniature daily performances, dole out the sweet attention when deserved, fuck each other (responsibly) -- in short, pay attention!

Town of Greece and the Myth of Christian Oppression

When I was a good little Christian teenager, still on the confirmation-track at my Catholic church, a girl (who I would soon after be dating) invited me to accompany her to a "game" that a friend had invited her to play. As it turned out her friend was a Charismatic Christian, and the game was, in fact, a huge live-action role play called "Persecution" or some such unambiguously ominous thing, taking place on a sprawling rural lot belonging to someone in the congregation. The intent of the game was to show all us guileless young people what it must be like to live in a place where being a Christian made you subject to social and government-sanctioned oppression -- to be "persecuted" as it were.

This was no namby-pamby team-building exercise or cheesy one-act after school special; this was serious stuff.  It started at dusk, which meant most of the game took place in darkness. The only light we had for wondering directionless through the partially-wooded area was from the flashlights of menacing-looking adult men dressed in black paramilitary gear and from the headlights of their ATVs.  These men would patrol and periodically stop, harass, and interrogate the various groups of teens, shouting "Are you a Christian?" and "Tell me where the Christians are!" If you concealed or denied your Christianity, you would mostly be left alone.  If you admitted it, you were harassed and/or "arrested," i.e., brought back to the holding center (located in the barn) and locked up in cell (stall) where you were subjected to additional interrogation and harassment.

Even in my youthful naivete, the whole operation seemed a bit over the top. I was a Catholic after all, and I was used to my religion being served as a stale wafer sandwiched in a droning hour-long service where you struggled to keep your eyes open. I didn't know what to make of this surreal, and kind of scary, religious role play. Now, in my older naivete, I realize that this little game had some pretty heavy-handed overtones, overtones that reflect certain fears and preconceptions that now loom large in American politics.

You see, the make-believe land of "Persecution" didn't resemble Somolia or Yemen or North Korea -- places where Christian oppression legitimately exists. No, Persecution-land was distinctly American, or at least a fundamentalist Christian's conceptualization of a post-apocalyptic America. And it is precisely this fear, that in the not-to-distant future an apparently atheistic government will rise and crush all that is good and godly, that drives these people to aggressively combat any sign of decline of Christian prominence. They rail against the "War on Christmas," put up the Ten Commandments on courtroom steps, and demand prayer return to schools and government functions. It is the last example that led to the recent, and ultimately unfortunate, Supreme Court decision in Town of Greece v. Galloway.

The Town of Greece

In 1999, the Town of Greece (a suburb of Rochester, NY) and its newly-elected town supervisor, John Auberger, decided that its existing and relatively unobjectionable practice of beginning legislative sessions with a moment of silence was not aggressive enough in combating the inevitable Christian purge. People could not be allowed to simply contemplate in solemnity the great undertaking and duty that is upholding a representative democracy in whatever way that is meaningful to them (including prayer); no, they needed a real live minister to come in and tell them ... and if a little fear of God was put into the hearts of these lost souls, all the better.

So that's what they did. And for EIGHT YEARS this invocation was exclusively a Christian prayer given by a Christian minister, a fact that did not seem to cause any grief to the Board or the eventual Galloway majority.  Apparently, a town employee thumbed through a local "directory" of "congregations" and called a few to see if they were willing to perform such a service.  Very little arm-twisting was needed, it seems, and soon the Town had a go-to roster of ministers ready to warm up the legislative crowds. It wasn't religious discrimination, the Town claims, it just so happens that all of these congregations and all of these ministers were, like most small towns in America, almost exclusively Christian.

Finally in 2007, a couple of locals pointed out that, just maybe, this bit of publicly-sponsored proselytizing was a bit off-putting to people who attended the Board meetings who didn't share the faith.  The Board, after careful consideration of that complaint, and probably an admonishment from the Town Attorney, decided it should probably open up the old directory again. Lo and behold, this time they found a Jewish guy and a chairman of the local Baha'i temple who were willing to speak. Once word got out that the invocation was no longer a closed club, a Wiccan priestess requested and was granted a slot.  

"So calm down," you tell me, "you got a few of your new-agey wackos in, so there's no discrimination here." First, I am calm.  In fact, I am sitting here on a nice Friday afternoon sipping some mocha coffee, contemplating how much less conflict we would have if everyone would just keep their religious beliefs to themselves. Stress is a big problem for lawyers though, so thanks for looking out for me.  Second, three non-Christians in nine years of prayer is not a very impressive show of diversity; moreover, the Town, in 2009, reverted to its de facto Christian-only roster. 

Third, what about people who don't believe in a supernatural deity? Are they allowed to participate? Justice Scalia even mused during the oral arguments: 

JUSTICE SCALIA: Mr. Hungar, what -- what is the equivalent of prayer for somebody who is not religious?

MR. HUNGAR: I would -­

JUSTICE SCALIA: What would somebody who is not religious -­

MR. HUNGAR: In the Rubin -

JUSTICE SCALIA: -- what is the equivalent of prayer?

MR. HUNGAR: It would be some invocation of guidance and wisdom from -­

JUSTICE SCALIA: From what?

From what, indeed. Can a person with nothing to "invoke" give an invocation? The whole premise presupposes a deity to be called upon. This why some troublesome objectors to similar policies have resorted to converting to Satanism to get a chance to speak, perhaps others will attempt to summon the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Would an atheist be allowed a few minutes to outline for the Board various arguments against the existence of a god? Or, more positively phrased, say something like: "Brothers and sisters, there is no heaven waiting for us, all we have is the here and now. So let us act today with wisdom and charity to make this one life the best it can be for everyone." The point is that public prayer is proselytism by its very nature. By invoking the deity of your choice, you are affirmatively making a statement about your beliefs and making an overt effort to influence others based on those beliefs. Justice Kennedy's assertion that these prayers do not "proselytize or betray an impermissible government purpose" is either obtuse or disingenuous.

Fourth, using a government forum for religious purposes violates the Establishment Clause. It does under the Lemon test; it does under the Endorsement test. The Galloway court essentially said this was an exception because of the historical tradition of chaplains giving invocations. I'll grant that is true -- not in the Town of Greece where it was a less-than-ten-year-old tradition -- but true largely. It also used to be a tradition for women not to vote, for doctors to use leeches, and for white people to own black people. Now, I admit that the publicly-sponsored prayer at issue here is not as bad as any of those. But the point is that now is, or should be, a more civilized age; one we realize that putting a "Christians Only" sign on the door of a Town Board meeting is not only wrong but counterproductive to building inclusive and functional governments. 

Lastly, why do we need prayer in a public legislative session in the first place? If the members of the Board want to pray, they can. If the public attendees want to pray, no one can (or should) stop them. They can do it five minutes before the meeting, they can do it during the meeting (quietly), or they can do it the other 743 hours of the month during which there are not in Town Board meetings. Why is that not sufficient?  Why does everyone have to be subjected to it? Imposing prayer on others is not something someone who is secure in their faith does or something that someone is tolerant of diverse beliefs does; it's something that someone who is terrified that Christianity's long-time stranglehold on American politics is slipping away does. Someone who is feeling "persecuted." Of course, as this decision illustrates, they are not: they remain the vast majority in this country and retain a vast majority of members in every government body.  Meanwhile, those who are truly "persecuted" by this practice, are, for the most part, merely sighing and resigning themselves quietly enduring another reminder that it's still not OK to be openly non-religious in American politics. 

Pretty much.

 Thank you, and God bless America.