Couldn't Help Noticing

The Reverse Sweep

Over the last few years I have been thinking about how it might be possible to turn the wasteful gambling of Australians on the Melbourne Cup to a better purpose. I've come up with an idea and jotted down a draft of a newspaper advertisement to sell the idea.

I wasn't sure what to do with the idea. So I thought why not put it on CHN and see if anyone else likes it and can do anything with it.

Here's the ad:

[Headline]

“To be honest, I would hand the cup back right now, if it meant I could get him back.”—Damien Oliver, Winning jockey, 2002 Melbourne Cup.

After the 2002 Melbourne Cup, Damien Oliver, having just lost his brother in a tragic accident, pointed out to us what we all know to be true...

People are more important than ‘things’.

So, for this year's Melbourne Cup, let's “stop the nation” for more than just the prospect of winning some money to buy more ‘things’. Let's stop the nation to help other people. Here's an idea how.

Introducing “the reverse sweep”

It's becoming more popular in the game of cricket, but now its time to bring out the “reverse sweep” in the game of horse racing. What is the reverse sweep?

The reverse sweep is when the traditional office sweep is turned on its head -- not to take the fun out of raceday, but to put the fun to a good purpose. The idea is that the prize is not something the winner keeps, but something the winner gets to give away.

So, in the “reverse sweep”, the prizepool goes to the charity of choice of the winning ticketholder. (Tax deductible, but not taxable!)

Just imagine how many millions of dollars could go to worthwhile charities around the country and be put to good use helping people in need, if all the “office sweeps” turn into “reverse sweeps”.

This year, let's “stop the nation” for a good cause.

Is there a doctor in this House?

One of my favourite TV shows at the moment is NBC's House (which currently screens in Australia at 8:30 pm Wednesdays on Ten). For those who don't watch the show, most episodes revolve around the solving of a medical mystery by Dr. Gregory House (Hugh Laurie sporting an American accent), infectious disease specialist and Head of the Department of Diagnostic Medicine at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, New Jersey. He deals with cases that other doctors can't solve and his patients range from young to old, poor to rich, Anglo-Saxon to Asian.

Similarities between House and Sherlock Holmes abound: both love solving problems; both are drug addicts (Holmes: cocaine; House: Vicodin); both are musical (Holmes plays the violin; House plays the piano); both operate using principles of deduction and logic; both get bored easily; both are anti-social and only have one friend (Holmes: Dr. Watson; House: an oncology specialist named Dr. James Wilson); both have a team of underlings working for them (Holmes: the Baker Street Irregulars; House: the rest of his team—a neurologist, an immunologist and an intensivist); and both are brilliant at what they do.

But I love watching House, not because of the mysteries, but because of House himself: he's unorthodox, anti-authoritarian, witty, blunt, offensive and unafraid of risks (e.g. gambling the life of one baby to save the other four). His methods are often brought under fire by the Dean of Medicine and hospital administrator, who makes him “do time” in the public clinic, but even she recognises that he is one of the best doctors she has on staff.

However, much as I enjoy House's razor-sharp repartee, I can't help but cringe at his total lack of bedside manner. He is more interested in cracking the problem than saving lives. Rarely will he visit his patients, preferring instead the cool objectivity of a conference room with a whiteboard (well, a clear-board; they write on it in white ink).

“Isn't treating patients why we became doctors?” asks Dr. Foreman.

“No, treating illnesses is why we became doctors,” House replies. “Treating patients is what makes most doctors miserable.”

The messiness and unpredictability of humanity makes Gregory House shun the world. Much as he would like, he cannot treat the body like a machine and people like they're robots. We were created in God's image for relationship but we live in a fallen world so relationships are difficult. But perhaps House's redemption is on the horizon; we're only up to Episode 13 and there are 9 more to go before the season finale.

Though Dr. House is brilliant at treating illness, he cannot cure his patients once and for all. Only the great cosmic Doctor and heavenly Father can do that.

Not in my back yard!

Have you noticed some people's responses to the recent spike in petrol prices? They complain and protest that prices are too high and that the government should take care of the problem. However, when they are told that they can save gas money by 1) reducing their speed, 2) sell their gas guzzler of a car (or SUV), 3) take less trips for leisure, they find it much easier to keep the responsibility on others than bear some of it themselves. In effect, they give what sociologists and economists call a NIMBY response to the problem.

Behavioral commentators use the acrostic NIMBY to represent the idiosyncratic response many people give to proposed ideology. NIMBY simply stands for “not in my back yard” and the concept is straightforward: There are many things that people agree with in principle but when it comes down to practicing or implementing the ideas, these people refuse the proposition as it relates to themselves.

This colloquial terminology came in use many decades ago when environmentalists warned of the dangers of burning or incinerating rubbish. So, they proposed that it would be better for the environment if the refuse were taken to landfills. In principle, most all people agreed. But, when it came down to finding spaces for these landfills, people vehemently protested any such use of their local land. They said, “not in my back yard will you put a landfill.”

When you take this concept to its logical conclusion, the problem is clearly seen. If all of us adhere to this NIMBY behavioral pattern (which sociologists say most of us do), then there could be no place for, say, a landfill. Nothing would get done even though the principle is well agreed upon.

This all hit home with me on Sunday afternoon after I preached to a congregation about how they need to get out and evangelize. Of course, I admitted from the pulpit that I too need to share the burden in this great charge. But how easy it is to give lip service to such wonderful propositions? How easy is it to put the responsibility of these principles on others and then complain that it doesn't get done? Yet, when it comes down to implementing them myself, my actions speak loudly of a NIMBY response. Unfortunately, if we all give NIMBY responses to exhortations to evangelize then nothing will get done. Maybe this explains our declining church attendance. People don't disagree that evangelism needs to happen but when it comes down to practice they throw up their hands and say, “not in my back yard!”

Protecting the unborn, part two

Further to our earlier CHN about the review of current Australian laws relating to human cloning and research involving human embryos, we were informed last week on Friday (9th September) that, due to the level of community interest in this matter, the committee may still consider submissions sent in this week.

The committee has been consulting over the last few days with various representatives of special-interest groups. You can view the consultation program on the committee's website (www.lockhartreview.com.au). It is worth noting that of the people the committee is consulting with, many are likely to be arguing for the current legislation to be relaxed in order to enable embryonic stem cell research.

So if you haven't yet had time to send something in, it's still worth doing.

And if you've experienced problems when attempting to submit through the review committee's website, try sending your submission to: lockhartreview AT secretariat DOT com DOT au

Extremists and zealots

I suppose the habit of insulting and demonising one's opponents is hardly anything new, but NSW MP Patricia Forsythe's recent labelling of her factional opponents in the state Liberal Party as “extremists and zealots” is a particularly modern form of put-down.

What is an ‘extremist’ and a ‘zealot’? The words conjure up images of irrational, wild-eyed fanatics; people who have lost touch with reason, good sense, moderation and the civilized virtues; the kind of uncouth, ideologically-driven fundamentalists who are a danger to society. Such as Christians.

But beyond these associations, it's hard to know what is meant exactly by these very modern insults. It could mean someone who lacks a degree of emotional and intellectual stability, and whose views go further than the evidence can sustain. That is, not simply someone who has a strong view, and argues strongly for it, but who takes his position to the extreme; who will brook no opposition, and countenance no discussion or questioning; who irrationally dismisses counter-evidence out of hand.

Then again, ‘extremist’ and ‘zealot’ may just be very handy insults for smearing someone who disagrees with you (and is usually to the ‘right’ of you). This seems to be how it works in our public discourse. So if you believe in a woman's ‘right to choose’ (to have an abortion), you are a tolerant lover of freedom; if you don't believe in such a right, you are an extremist and a zealot. If you are pro-gay, and favour the legislative erosion of the traditional meaning and place of marriage, then you are a compassionate, open-minded individual. If you take the opposite view, you an extremist and a zealot.

And so on. For some unaccountable reason, only one side's strongly held views render them liable to the charge of extremism and zealotry. The mirror-image views of the opposite side, held just as strongly, are all sweet-reason and light.

It reminds me of the age-old strategy of the four-year-old: don't try to reason with me; I'll just shout louder.