Tomorrow could be boring

Chemicals and mind-crushes

Isn't the picture Grant drew adorable? It makes more sense if you read my new column at Basenotes. This is the second in the series, entitled "A Very English Problem".

I've also got a new mind-crush in the form of Dara O'Briain. His rant about homeopathy and nutritionists is brilliant. Best quote: "Science knows it doesn't know everything or it would have stopped."

I brought back a toxic book from the library: "Toxic Beauty: How Hidden Chemicals in Cosmetics Harm You." It's written by a Reiki-healer who is convinced she knows what she's talking about, a bit like an astrologer might be convinced she knows better about heavenly bodies after talking to some people at NASA. I would despair, but luckily I've built up some resistance to this by now and my own chemistry studies are adding a whole new backbone to the way I view these scare-mongering messages nowadays. Once I finish my course I should really focus on the book I've been researching for the past few years and get it out there. It's time people stopped worrying about insignificant things and started worrying about stuff that could cause real harm instead. To themselves, to the environment and ultimately to the existence of human life itself. Trust me, whether we ingest a bit of lipstick isn't on that list.

The trouble with being a science student

I read a lot and I think a lot.

I don't want to live forever, but I'd like a way of knowing what happens to the world, the human race, the Universe and everything.

There are days when I wonder what the point of living is, given that it's likely we'll [the Universe] either crunch or expand out of existence anyway, so even if we somehow [rather improbably at this point] manage to colonise space, there will be precisely zero left of all of our weighty human efforts at the end of it all.

Of course if there's a crunch, there will hopefully be a new Big Bang as a result of it (which makes one wonder how many Universes there have been before ours), but that'll be like shaking the celestial Etch-a-Sketch and starting again, with no trace of our "achievements"; just the building blocks everything is made up of.

Have a nice day!

I refuse to choose

The only thing I would change about how my world works is time. It's such a linear bugger; limited and irritating concept. Nevertheless, it's slightly less of a problem now I've worked out how to seemingly squeeze more out of it than most people. (Granted, this ability comes at some costs).

I want to challenge some assumptions. "People tend to be either good at art or science". I call bullshit. I want to be good at both. I'm still traumatised by my school-experiences of maths*, but I am now getting excited about mathematics, statistics, chemistry and science in general. Today I realised that I've already done two of the named courses for an analytical sciences foundation degree. I was looking for the timetable for the next course from the Open University. Not sure if I will be able to fit it in until I finish the IFEAT perfumery diploma, so it'll take a little while until I register. I have also earmarked OpenLearn for brushing up on study skills and for other useful bite-sized courses.

"One is either feminine or successful in business/work". Rubbish. You don't have to sweat testosterone to make your mark.

Someone (an area manager for a retail chain) once said to me: "Wow, you actually have a brain in that pretty little head of yours." Yes, I hope so. Thank you for the compliment (you cow). One can be considered attractive AND smart. Why do people assume intelligence has anything to do with looks, either way? Rhetorical question. Ironic, considering that my self-esteem is a bit wobbly in the looks-department. My mother was trying to toughen me up by calling me fat and various other things when I was growing up. Bless. She meant well, but it was a bit of a crap strategy.

When I was starting out as a make-up artist, my first agency appointment went like this: "You have both fashion and theatre in your portfolio. You have to pick one or the other; you can't do both." I told her that I liked working in both. Why should I limit myself? I didn't pursue agents after that and just went pure freelance. Since the make-up artist job, I worked for a fragrance distributor, for a software developer and in retail. Now, years later, I've finally found an organisation in which I've been able to (first tentatively and lately at full force) unleash my full Scanner-nature. It feels like unfurling scrunched-up parts of your body that you knew were there, but had gone numb. I've been allowed to - and even encouraged to - work in a way that suits me perfectly. I've been doggedly and persistently pursuing self-study "outside work" to enable some of this (outside work in quotation marks because that's an artificial concept for me. A few years ago I realised that I should stop even trying to separate work-head and me-head. I need to allow myself to get absorbed and work across all concepts, personal or professional in a mind-map-like way. Time and clockwatching doesn't come into it).

At first, yes, there were some questions: "...yes, but that's not a job description - which department would you like to work under?" Luckily they didn't last long. I suppose I had to take some risks, but in the end I am so glad I did - by showing that I could work cross-departments on various projects at the same time. I'm now so happy at work and with how things are going that the old "yikes, what's going to go wrong now?" -nerves are here. This is so great that every day I pause at some point simply to marvel. (Marvel is such a ridiculous word, but it's the only one that seemed just right. Perhaps I also wish to convey exactly how ridiculous this all still seems. I can't believe my luck and I'm nervous that I will now go a head and mess it up somehow. I've still got to learn how to stop worrying).

Meanwhile, I have just drawn up one of my re-focus plans. This time it's a mind-map with a stick figure-me in the middle with lines and boxes coming off it. I may have mentioned various planning tools before, but for as long as I can remember, I've periodically taken stock of where I am and what I am focusing on. Usually once a year, but sometimes more often. Turns out that under the "Strengths Finder" method of trying to fit us into some kind of classification system, one of my dominant strengths is "focus". (The others are "strategic", "ideation" and "activator").

There is a fair amount of writing on that focus page, quite a few projects, goals and categories, but it seems manageable. What Barbara's book "What do I do when I want to do everything?" helped me realise is that I don't have to choose, but that I needed to develop ways in which to focus on one thing at a time, then swivel the wheel of interests and activities 'round like a revolving spice rack and pick up the next flavour, focus on that for a while, rinse and repeat. Simple, but brilliant. When it works, you feel as if everyone else is scuttling around at normal speed and your time has just gone into Hollywood blockbuster slow-mo. They run the rat race; you do your thing... and another thing...and another...

*Being repeatedly humiliated in front of the class, called a fat cannonball, and having things thrown at you by your teacher tends to do that.

Trains, planes and moral choices

Unless you live in a cave cut away from any kind of media (self-sufficiently, perhaps? Well, now that would be lovely) - you must know that travelling by train is the morally correct choice these days. Planes? Definitely not acceptable, at least not for domestic journeys. Automobiles? Hmm, if you drive a hybrid, or a Smart like I do is it a bit like greenwash? Is it really much better to do slightly less harm than regular cars? Aren't you adding to the grand total anyway?

I'm trying to be reasonable and make compromises.

I've never been big on flying all over the globe anyway, so that's fine. The trips I've taken have mostly been work-related and faraway holiday destinations or frivolous weekend trips to Europe using cheap flights have never attracted me. Check.

Driving - well, I've only been driving for a few years out of my life; I got my UK license and the Smart about 5 years ago. It was at a time when I was feeling extremely stressed and burnt out so having the independence was important. Nowadays I really try to think about the trips I make (almost all of them work-related) - should I drive or take the train?

Some longer-distance journeys really feel easier by train versus the car: you can settle down for a good while and work on your laptop or read a book. I travel a fair bit for work and do tend to take the train most of the time. It just makes sense.

And then some trips make you want to scream in frustration and never take another train journey ever again. Like the one I had yesterday.

A simple enough proposition - 2 hours one way with 2 changes. Not too terrible, right? Except that due to some incompetent advice and one train cancellation, the journey turned into 4 hours and 4 changes. I was frozen into a solid flesh-ickle by the time I fell out of the train that had carried me on the last leg of the journey. And thanked my earlier self for having driven to the train station so I didn't have to walk 20 minutes in the cold to finally get home.

I want the futuristic criss-crossing overground bullet-train networks, or cool, magically unpolluting hover-cars, or teleportation, please.

Why have we all been so slow to adopt new ways of conducting business? Some individuals and organisations have embraced video conferencing and systems that allow remote communication and distance leadership. Maybe we need to make all modes of (polluting) transport so excruciatingly uncomfortable that we'll only use them when absolutely necessary.

Things I have realised today

1) It would make me feel more comfortable, if I were to internally agree that there really is such a thing as talent. And that you either have it or you don't. And that I may be talented in some of the things I so desperately wish to pursue and excel at.

The alternative is a bone-crushingly weighty reality of how little I really know about... perfumery... cosmetic science... writing... and that without the comforting concept of "talent", I may never be able to "catch up".

On the other hand, regardless of the mindset at the starting line, one thing seems to really be true: You can do stuff by just doing it. (A sentiment I know Neil Gaiman is fond of. I really get it now. It's taken me ages. Lots of other people get it too; some of them have even tried to advise me).

2) Speaking of which, at work, I've been very busy - travelling a great deal and so on. But I've also been writing. A lot. I'm concerned I've not been writing well enough (and what the hell is this all about - the more I write, the more concerned I become about writing badly, even though on some level, I must be getting better), but if one were to measure success in volume of output, I'd be doing rather spiffily, actually. Since May this year, I've effectively written a book. Shame it's not about alien planets, or grotesque insects. Realisation: If I wanted to write about alien planets, or grotesque insects, I could write the first draft in under a year, even when really busy at work. I'm running out of excuses.

3) My mother was a hedonist and didn't care for the worries of the next day. She was a master of pure seat-of-your-pants existence, which worked for a while, but became a really bad strategy (or lack thereof) in her later years. However, one of my most pervasive feelings of "being a child" is always being told to "look that up in the dictionary", or "don't ask me, find out yourself"; of being given educational toys, taken to complex foreign language plays and operas, a kind of Frasier Crane childhood.  It's impossible for me to ever know whether any of this was guided by the preferences I showed, but most of it must have been dictated by my mother's wishes. She exuded  fun and  she wanted to at least appear carefree, she picked the parts of the Communist Manifesto that suited her style and ditched the rest (granted, so did the Communist powers that be), she was delighted when she got lost in the woods and I - the "little miss young adult" at under 10 years old - found the way home; she loved to tell that story. So why did it seem that every activity of mine, even a simple conversation with my mother, had to more often than not be loaded with some kind of functional element. What kind of purpose or function can be derived from activity x? She taught me a lot. She didn't teach me how to have fun without care. Or maybe she tried and it was the seeing of the consequences of her lifestyle that made me so serious and determined. Or maybe I was always serious and determined and she simply accommodated me.

I've always had this unnerving feeling of being of such different raw material to my mother; not even chalk and cheese as they say here in England, but of different origins, from another planet.

Maybe I could write my first book about alien planets, aka, my mum and I.

Yet there were many things that (especially now with hindsight) I share with her. I love bold colours. So did she. And I seem to share her ability to remain naive and childlike when confronted with new ideas. I explore the sides that those entrenched in a rut or weighed down by too much experience may miss.

4) And that brings me to realisation number four. In the disciplines I wish to develop, but feel intimidated by due to my lack of knowledge or education in them - perhaps the way in which I combine a naive curiosity (beginner's luck + childlike "what if...?" wonder) and a smidgeon of talent (given that I'm allowing myself to believe that such a thing exists), perhaps, perhaps, I might be able to produce wonderful things after all. And surely the whole point is to continue learning and discovering all the while? And no master chef can possibly know everything there is in the whole world about cooking. They can still produce masterful dishes.

5) I seem to also be like my mother in one aspect - taste in perfumes. I've finally admitted to myself that her favourite scents (Shalimar by Guerlain and Y by YSL) appeal to me too. But in one aspect I am different; she used to stick to one perfume at a time, I, on the other hand, am a self-confessed perfume obsessive and collect perfumes. I'm mostly content to smell new ones, but some of them I must own. They enter the "wardrobe" and rotation.

6) There are few more lovely things than Finnish-style apple pie. Here's one I baked earlier:

7) There are a few more enjoyable and purely "fun" things for me than playing a really good computer game. Or, in some cases, a console game. There aren't many functional aspects to playing them that I can think of. If you know of some, don't tell me. I'm going to spend the rest of the evening playing Final Fantasy XII. I spent the earlier part of today studying my current Open University course "Understanding human nutrition", after which I baked the apple pie. Oh, and I finished reading "Just One More Thing" by Peter Falk (the book was lovely. The man is lovely). I haven't really done much today, but the trouble with studying and reading is that they make you think a lot. Which is why I'm here now, writing this, when I should be having fun.

Soy or not to Soy, that is the question

First, a small aside: I was listening to Radio 4 yesterday on the way to work (as I always do when I drive in; it's the sort of thing that seems right in the mornings) and the decline of "traditional newspapers" was being discussed. Apparently newspapers, in their frenzy to halt the declining circulation figures, have given away more DVDs in UK this year than the UK consumers bought from shops. That definitely smacks of desperation.

However, I don't think the newspaper will die entirely. There may be some form of the "paper" left, even if the best part does happen online. Take The Guardian. A little while back, one of the supplements in the Guardian newspaper published an article entitled "Should we worry about Soya in our food?". It was a well articulated and effective article. As someone who has been lactose intolerant from birth and always hated the taste of neat cow's milk, I've been a mass consumer of soy milk products for years. And here, in this article, a reputable newspaper was saying that, actually...

...soya contains toxins and plant oestrogens powerful enough to disrupt women's menstrual cycles in experiments. It also appeared damaging to the thyroid." James's lobbying eventually forced governments to investigate. In 2002, the British government's expert committee on the toxicity of food (CoT) published the results of its inquiry into the safety of plant oestrogens, mainly from soya proteins, in modern food. It concluded that in general the health benefits claimed for soya were not supported by clear evidence and judged that there could be risks from high levels of consumption for certain age groups. Yet little has happened to curb soya's growth since.

That was uncomfortable reading, but the article had more in store:

...raw mature soya beans contain phytates that prevent mineral absorption and enzyme inhibitors that block the key enzymes we need to digest protein. They are also famous for inducing flatulence.

Christopher Dawson, who owns the Clearspring brand of organic soy sauces, agrees. He lived in Japan for 18 years and his Japanese wife, Setsuko, is a cookery teacher. "I never saw soy beans on the table in Japan - they're indigestible."

Dawson describes the traditional craft method of transforming the soya bean through fermentation, so that its valuable amino acids become available but its antinutrients are tamed. The process involves cooking whole soya beans, complete with their oil, for several hours, then adding the spores of a mould to the mix, and leaving it to ferment for three days to begin the long process of breaking down the proteins and starches. This initial brew is then mixed with salt water and left to ferment for a further 18 months, during which time the temperature will vary with the seasons. The end result is an intensely flavoured condiment in which the soya's chemical composition has been radically altered. Traditional miso is similarly made with natural whole ingredients, slowly aged.

The article presents quite a few alarming points for consideration. That the soy bean was not even considered fit for animal feed in its natural form; that the isoflavones (supposedly famed for their health benefits) may actually be doing us harm, and so on and so on. Reading through it, I felt fairly convinced. I would have to cut out soy milk and find an alternative that wasn't cow's milk. Fermented Tofu, Miso and Soy sauce would still be okay to eat.

And here's the bit where my aside from the beginning becomes relevant. I decided to look the article up on the Guardian Unlimited website, just in case there had been any further discussion on the topic. A rebuttal was posted and entertaining comments added. Too right there had been discussion! This is the bit where the Internet wins hands down. I've touched on this subject in my own posts before (about how the "article" - be it a blog post or a newspaper article - is only the beginning, where the Internet is concerned, whereas in a dead tree publication you may get a few letters to the editor, or may not, but there is unlikely to be instant and comprehensive two-way dialogue about the subject).

Sadly, the quality of the rebuttal in the case of the Soy argument was not particularly high - it really did seem more Ad Hominem attack than a proper counter-point that would have attacked the original article's research instead of attacking the people behind the article. Nevertheless, it is always good to have more than one viewpoint, particularly since most people have an agenda to promote something or another.

One of the most amusing comments posted as a reply to the rebuttal, comes from someone calling themselves "germanvegan":

I find it rather silly that the motivation of vegans to oppose or support a view is projected onto the same level as commercial interest, thus greed. People seem to either deny, forget or ignore that vegans are ETHICISTS. Like, hello?

Secondly, and to increase the silliness, one should know that the defamation of soy started the second it was clear that it contained all essential amino acids. You know, like meat. This sent all the people with their claws hacked into the glass of the meat counter into a panic frenzy. In their mind, this was a threat to their beloved meat. This continued even when common nutritional scientists backpeddled on their antivegan stance claiming plant proteins are inferior, when in reality all one had to do is eat two different plants at different times with different protein contend to have a complete dietary protein ratio.

Germanvegan makes some good points there. His comment goes on beyond the bits I quoted. He fails to consider that promoting a vegan lifestyle could still be considered a business interest. Nothing is ever that black and white. Sadly. Life would be so much easier if that weren't the case.

It's usually best to take everything with a pinch of salt (or should that be with a pinch of soy sauce?) and do your own research if you are truly concerned about something. So my question "to Soy or not to Soy" has therefore not yet been answered to my satisfaction.

One of my biggest pet hates about people, is the frequency with which you bump into single-minded blinkerdness (sorry, I just made up that word; hope you don't mind). People with such need to be right about something that they willfully ignore evidence, or don't even realise they're ignoring it, or interpreting it to suit their agenda. Having said that, it's almost impossible for any human being to be wholly objective, but that's another blog post's worth of material, so I'll leave that there for now.

Greed?

I want things.

I need some of things I want, but many of the things I want seem to come down to greed.

I salivate at the thought of a new laptop to replace my old, shitty one. But do I really, hand on heart, need a new laptop? Oh, how I could justify that a thousand times. Don't even make me try; it would be too easy.

I want Corel's Painter IX.5 and Heroes of Might and Magic V to go with it.

I wince when I have to walk past those shoes (I've lusted after them for so long). Black Converse trainers with pretty, red hot flames. And the other pair; black and sparkly. Or what about those red boots in that same shop? I have deliberately avoided going anywhere near that shop for some time, as I know I can't afford such frivolity right now.

And the wedding dress thing. I don't know how I can find the dress - something that will be truly unique - without having it made. And having it made will be expensive, right? But I don't want to throw a couple of thousand quid on a stupid thing like that. Not that I even have a couple of thousand quid to throw at things like wedding dresses.

Meh. I quite like the look of Uptight Clothing, but on the other hand, maybe I might be able to get something ready-made from Fairy Gothmother or some other similar site. The Dark Angel is always reliably good quality and they have a bit more class. And yet... I don't know if any of those is even close to what I would feel comfortable in.

And the thing is, if I was given a choice: get a swanky new laptop & some drool-tastic software & get married in a hired get-up, OR have the dress of your dreams, but forgo the other goodies, I think I might choose the technology.

I'm such a nerd. It's embarrassing.

On the other hand, I feel a girly pull towards some kind of incredibly memorable get-up for the "special day" (all together now: awww! Oh hyuk. I think I made myself feel a little nauseous there).

Anyway. This is hypothetical at the moment. Although soon, I will have to decide what to do about the wedding dress-part. The technology, well, if one day I can afford it, great, if not, I will just have to have slobbery Homer-esque daydreams about it.

Homeopathy hocus pocus

It's lovely to have alternatives available for "conventional", Western medicine. It's nice to have an "open mind". I make these statements with only a touch of wryness; I do sincerely try to keep an open mind. Nevertheless, I am really rather relieved to read news reports about a group of leading British doctors who have directly challenged the way many NHS trusts use their funds.

A GROUP of Britain’s leading doctors has urged every NHS trust to stop paying for alternative medicine and to use the money for conventional treatments. Their appeal is a direct challenge to the Prince of Wales’s outspoken campaign to widen access to complementary therapies. Public funding of “unproven or disproved treatments” such as homoeopathy and reflexology, which are promoted by the Prince, is unacceptable while huge NHS deficits are forcing trusts to sack nurses and limit access to life-saving drugs, the doctors say. As reported by The Times Online

I have very little faith in the NHS, as some of you may already know, but, rather ironically, the aforementioned doctors' lack of faith towards unproven alternative therapies is increasing my faith towards the doctors.

Some alternative therapies may form a solid support mechanism for suffering patients, but I do think they should be an optional extra; a luxury in a way; not something that the taxpayers pay for. If any of the alternative therapies would be scientifically proven to be consistently effective in treating serious conditions, I'd be saying different things.

If I have a tension headache, or if I am feeling the pressure of stress, aromatherapy might help. But I wouldn't dream of making someone else pay for my treatment.

If I have an incurable disease for which I am receiving conventional treatment, I might also wish to use some additional therapies. But the additional therapies should be a choice, an extra and entirely at the expense of the private individual.

Some alternative therapies seem to hover between the line of "conventional" and "alternative". That's when this whole thing becomes very messy and it's hard to hold on to a hard line on either side of the argument. The BBC website has a wonderful set of resources, examining these very issues:

Research conducted by the BBC has shown that alternative medicines are becoming increasingly popular. Yet their effectiveness is yet to be proven to the majority of medical practitioners in the UK and there are concerns over safety as many of the treatments remain untested. BBC News Online's health team examines the issues.

Paris, 20e arrondissement
Originally uploaded by mainblanche.

My biggest beef is with Homeopathy. You see, it's utter bollocks. Well, apart from the - sometimes, admittedly, very vividly experienced - Placebo effect.

Let me elaborate (although the above statement sums it all up quite tidily). The original concept of Homeopathy, when explained to a person to whom metaphysical matters are of interest, will sound inviting, promising and even plausible.

To treat the patient with a little bit of what might be making them unwell.

Classical homeopathy is generally defined as a system of medical treatment based on the use of minute quantities of remedies that in larger doses produce effects similar to those of the disease being treated. Hahnemann believed that very small doses of a medication could have very powerful healing effects because their potency could be affected by vigorous and methodical shaking (succussion). Hahnemann referred to this alleged increase in potency by vigorous shaking as dynamization. Hahnemann thought succussion could release "immaterial and spiritual powers," thereby making substances more active. "Tapping on a leather pad or the heel of the hand was alleged to double the dilution" (ibid.). From (the utterly scrumptious) The Sceptic's Dictionary.

So, the original concept seemed to have a little bit of potential, well, to gullible sorts anyway, but good grief. Basing the entire treatment on how much, and through which very specific methods it has been diluted?

Let me put this in other terms. Let's say we start with a few drops of a plant extract. All well and good. I actually DO believe that plant-based medicine and treatments can be incredibly effective. After all, much of the now so-called conventional medicine started that way.

However, in Hocus-pocus-pathy, you take the plant extracts, dilute, shake... then take the diluted mixture, add a few drops of that to a new batch of water and dilute, shake... then take the diluted mixture, add a few drops of that... well, so on and so forth, until the final "remedy" has as many molecules of the original plant as you would randomly find by chance in, say, sea water.

Just think about that quietly for a moment.

Various tincture-based elements are then added (alcohol, grapeseed oil, or perhaps something else to give the remedy a medicinal consistency) and abracadabra, a cure-all is ready!

Homeopathy is based on the notion that water has a memory. That its molecules can remember the presence of a substance that, for all intents and purposes is no longer there.

Did I mention the word BOLLOCKS yet?

What homeopathic practitioners do very effectively, is provide consultative, holistic treatment to their patients, complete with such apparent (or quite possibly very sincere) care for the wellbeing of the patients that the experience in itself must be very healing. And I don't dispute that. I just so wish that people weren't being told, well, bollocks.

I wish that if a practitioner were to set up a councelling and spiritual support service, they'd just set up one of those; not a charlatan outfit designed to exploit the weak and vulnerable. Homeopathy is the Scientology of alternative therapies and I really don't think it's fair to charge people horrid amounts for so-called remedies and therapies when it's all a bit of a con, really.

It's been bugging me for some time to know that in this country, my tax money has gone towards paying for someone's homeopathy treatment - I would certainly let out a little whoop of delight if NHS dropped that form of alternative therapy from their list of funded services. It is none of my business if people wish to pay for this kind of stuff privately (it doesn't harm me; and I know lots of people get something very real out of it), but I don't think it has any place whatsoever standing shoulder-to-shoulder with therapies that have been scientifically proven to be effective.

Cross-posted to: Blogcritics.org
EDIT 30/05/06: This entry was chosen as one of the "Editors' Picks" at BlogCritics.

The Zombie Shop?

The Body Shop is dead, declare several naturewatch and anti-animal cruelty organisations after the much-publicised L'Oreal aquisition of TBS has sent activists over the edge. The Body Shop went from the "good guys" side on many of these organisations' ethical shopping guides to the "bad guys" side - pretty much overnight.

Today, on 1st of April 2006, some had even planned a Day Of Action event to publicly protest about the sell-out. An international Day of Action is planned for the 29th of April.

This is not the first time The Body Shop has come under scrutiny, however, unlike the 90s leaflet and boycott campaigns attempting to dig deeper behind the marketing strategies and public image, this time, the big question remains: will all this hoopla around L'Oreal and TBS actually deter the average customer? It's one thing to end up putting off a hardcore set of followers (that's what TBS used to inspire) - for quite some time now, TBS has gone after the "average customer" instead and various activism-heavy campaigns have been replaced by the sort of 3 for 2 promotions that you might spot at any typical UK High Street retailer.

Back in the day, particularly during TBS' golden era in the 80s, there was nothing average about the campaigns, stores or products. Anita Roddick started her business in Brighton in the 70s, with just one small store, then opened a second one with a £4000 loan from a former garage owner (now TBS' biggest single shareholder) - but it could be argued that the influence of Mark Constantine and his creative team helped to lift her business to superstar status. The marketing concepts of ethical consumerism were already brewing, but when Mark introduced the anti animal testing slant to the business - and produced most of TBS' best selling products for a decade or so to boot - things went from quirky to global at breakneck speed.

When the Roddicks brought all manufacturing in-house and parted ways with Mr. Constantine, many consumers didn't notice an immediate difference, as The Body Shop had purchased the recipes and continued to make at least some of the best selling items. This did not last. Dubious new products were introduced (dubious, in the sense that they did not seem all that "natural" after all) and by the mid 90s, as consumer awareness of cosmetic ingredients and business issues increased, The Body Shop started to lose credibility with the original customer base it had worked so hard to develop. Add to that, the extreme mistakes made in their business model (franchising and over-expanding beyond what their infrastructure could handle), by the late 90s, the value of the company had actually drastically declined, despite its inflated size.

What's particularly depressing is that once upon a time TBS actually had a genuine positive influence - on individuals' lives and on the entire legistlative jungle surrounding animal testing on cosmetics. Now money spent at TBS will go to the pockets of the biggest cosmetics giant in the world - not inherently bad per se, business is business - but sadly, since L'Oreal do not share the principles that really made a difference, this aquisition has effectively removed the biggest single "pro ethical cosmetics" voice from the marketplace. I suppose it could be stated that TBS has been washing its ideals off bit by bit for quite some time in the lead up to this, so the unholy marriage with L'Oreal is not really as unholy as it seems on the surface.

That voice had long since left the building.

It will be very interesting to watch what happens next. I would like to put forward my thoughts on this: The Body Shop is not dead; it's a zombie. It's been dead for quite some time, but still seems to be able to potter around. L'Oreal has the funds to turbo-charge this walking dead of a company, so we could soon witness the Thriller of the century. It's also worth noting that not all anti-animal cruelty organisations have whipped TBS off their ethical shopping lists. This might, of course, have something to do with the fact that some ethical shopping guide producers charge the companies for inclusion on the lists, thereby effectively selling endorsement (and making a business of it).

The whole world of various animal testing policies is somewhat bewildering. Fixed cut off dates and whole host of confusing mission statements often leave the consumer so confused that when making choices about products, they just naturally gravitate towards convenience and pleasure rather than to the company whose morals and ethics most closely match with their own. I'm certainly guilty of this; choosing a product because it was there, or because I liked the way it felt, rather than because I knew what the company's stance was on, say, recycling. I wouldn't say such basic behaviour was to be categorically condemned, but I would say that the biggest mistake TBS made wasn't the sale to L'Oreal; it was their drop in product quality, which inevitably led to consumers not being quite so drawn in by these very basic shopping behaviours. Enter a period of declining profits, ripen for takeover; we know the rest.

The genius of TBS in the 80s was that by attracting the customers in by providing new and innovative products that not only felt good, but provided nice benefits, the average customer was reeled in by those things first; the education about ethical consumerism happened as part of the process. It was the perfect combination: buy something that you like and feel good about buying it.

Today, when more so-called ethical companies get bought out by the not so ethical ones, it is getting harder to decide whether something labelled as "fair trade" or "not tested on animals" really means what you think it means. Add to that, the premium price you often pay for such products and one day soon you might find that consumers will increasingly be characterised by apathy rather than activism.

There may very well be a backlash in the wings for many big corporations who either buy takeaway ethics to go (like L'Oreal just did), or develop special "Fair Trade" brands in house to cash in on the lucrative ethical-consumer market. Unless the products are actually better than the alternatives, people might not care.

Further reading: Compassionate shopping guide (by Naturewatch)

Cross-posted to: Blogcritics.org

Pedantic rage: response-ability? Oh please.

So, I've been reading the anniversary edition of "The 7 habits of highly effective people" by Stephen R. Covey. Once upon a time someone recommended the book to me, but I didn't want to give it a go at the time (on the account of who was doing the recommending, let's just say) - but now, yes, I've decided to read it through.

I'm barely past the intro and into the first chapter and already getting irritated. Why? Because besides containing some admittedly insightful observations and various bits and pieces derived from meditative and philosophical texts of old... there are smatterings of, how shall I put this, turds here and there. Their effect is to stink up the rest of the material so that I can't concentrate on the good bits because at the back of my mind, I'm wondering:

"If I spotted that turd, how many am I not spotting?"

And that sort of takes the trust away a little.

I'll write about it more when I've read it through. Not looking entirely promising so far. Which is a shame because I really wanted to like this book.

Here's an example stinker:

Look at the word responsibility - "response-ability" - the ability to choose your response.

Excuse me? What? You can't just decide that an established word with real meaning and history behind it now derives from something that it does not, just because you fancy using it as a tool in your argument!

I was hoping that he'd quickly explain why he's chosen to pretend that the word responsibility derives from the words response and ability (which, just in case you were wondering, it certainly does not). Then I realised (to my horror) that he was being serious. He then bases an entire chapter on the various conclusions that lead from this statement. It made me really irritable.

I guess I chose to be irritated. Just like I chose to read this book. Silly me!

In another section, he mentions genetic determinism and then goes on to summarise that this, along with situational/environmental determinism can be summed up as a "Pavlovian conditioning response". Again, what? We can certainly control how we handle ourselves once fully constructed, but we can't (at least not in the current state of affairs) alter the building blocks all that much. If he meant to say that the way in which people go on to use "bad genes" as an excuse for bad behaviour, then he should have said so. What he actually said was quite different.

There are actually three social maps - three theories of determinism widely accepted, independently or in combination, to explain the nature of man. Genetic determinism basically says your grand-parents did it to you. That's why you have such a temper. Your grandparents had short tempers and it's in your DNA. In addition, you're Irish and that's the nature of Irish people. [SNIP] Each of these maps is based on the stimulus/response theory we most often think of in connection with Pavlov's experiments with dogs. The basic idea is that we are conditioned to respond in a particular way to a particular stimulus.

How is the way we are constructed based on our DNA's instructions in any way connected to a stimulus/response action/reaction? Again, if he wanted to further stipulate that the stimulus/response he was referring to in this instance was the conditioning that a person may have received (from society, parents, whomever) to use one's DNA as an excuse, or a reason for a specific behavioural pattern, then he should have said so. And if he had said that, he'd have been correct, except that that type of conditioning would of course fall under one of his other listed types of determinism (the environmental kind). As it stands, his logic makes no sense.

I will finish this book, even just for the entertainment value provided by outbreaks of pedantic rage.

Christmas wrapped up

The wrapper says: Fun! Joy! Warmth, love and happiness! Good times to be had. Put your feet up for the holidays! Be kind to random strangers. Be even kinder to your friends and family. Get in the loving spirit! Celebrate!

The contents reveal themselves as: Stress, Christmas ghosts from the past, being rude to random strangers, being even ruder to shop staff, being viciously territorial and aggressive, letting drinks and fights get out of hand, giving in to road rage, snapping at your family members at every opportunity, smacking your children in public (or completely blanking them out), creating drama from ordinary situations, eating until you're sick, living beyond your means and trying to out-do each other...

I could go on, but I won't. What the HELL is wrong with everybody? It's like the entire Western society bottles up all their crazy for the whole year and lets it out in one, massive act of collective delusion at this time of the year. It's okay to be a TOTAL FUCKING LOON because you'll blend in just fine.

Is that what the modern Christmas is really about? The psychological fart valve in today's society?

On the nature of arrogance in blogging

Anyone who creates something and wishes for their creation to be public, could be classed as arrogant. After all, they have a vision or an object - a voice that they hope others would hear. They have made something they are proud of and want to share with the world. Or perhaps they have an opinion that they feel must become known to more than just the random relative, or work colleague who cares enough to listen. So we could call authors, artists, journalists, columnists, stand-up comics; a whole heap of people, arrogant by default, but we, as a society, tend not to. Instead, bloggers are sometimes referred to as no better than monkeys with typewriters. What is so different about bloggers? Why do many producers and consumers of the more "traditional" media often make statements like these:

Bloggers are no better than those bloody awful senders of Round Robin Christmans letters. Self centred and arrogant. Greedy for more than 15 minutes of fame.

Left as a comment by Josephine Bennington to an article about the digital revolution, at BBC.co.uk.

What is so wrong about wanting more than 15 minutes of fame, I wonder, Josephine? That's not a new thing in the world. It is not the exclusive right of Bloggers. The "Look Ma!" instinct is strong in people. I would also love to ask her a few questions, such as: Do you ever answer in more than one word, when asked "how are you?" Because surely, that could be considered bloody self-centred. Ah, but bloggers announce "how they are" to the whole world! Stuart doesn't like that one bit:

Blogs: Badly written, mundane drivel from under-informed, over-opinionated people. All the digital revolution has achieved is to give a platform to the "me, me, me" generation. It has given the pub boor a megaphone. (As before), Stuart, UK

But Stuart, a megaphone is something you can't ignore, whereas a blog is handy in that you don't have to read it if you don't want to.

Obviously Stuart's opinion, given online, to an article from where both of these comments came, is so important that he can begrudgingly put his distaste for opinionated people making themselves heard through the aid of the evil digital revolution to one side.

Blogs are pathetic - suddenly every person on the planet has an opinion that just has to be heard. (As before), Paul Charters, Sutton, UK

Paul, this is not "suddenly". Everyone on this planet has something they wish others could hear. Whether that's a personal take on something mundane, or a shared feeling, or a criticism of world affairs - don't we share these things with each other every day? What has happened "suddenly" though, is that a new medium, through which everyone can reach a wider audience has made an entrance and it looks like a little more than a fad.

Blogs do not have much of an access barrier, apart from the ability to get to a computer that has an online connection. That's beginning to be a very low rim these days, though there are, of course, millions to whom reaching for this barrier would still be impossible (and unimportant).

Bloggers can, and do come in all flavours. There are arrogant ones among them, but that doesn't make all bloggers arrogant by default, just like one arrogant newspaper columnist doesn't make all newspaper columnists arrogant by default. Blogging is accessible, and at its basic level - incredibly easy, but just because it is possible for an absolute ignorant moron to start one, doesn't mean that all bloggers are absolute ignorant morons. Only an absolute ignorant moron would make a statement that suggested this was the case.

The World Wide Web is a way in which people can reach out for other people. It's a tool with which to engage yourself with the world in a way that has not been previously possible. Blogging is just one expression of that. The critique of the faceless readership is often very simple: "will read that" or "don't want to read that", which means that whilst there are many blogs that have barely evolved from Txt MsgIng, they won't be the well read or influential ones. The surfing blog reader will choose exactly what they find entertaining, or informative. This frightens many of the producers of "traditional media" and in cases of well researched and well written political blogs, the influence of which has sometimes surpassed that of the news broadcast or a newspaper, the world of current affairs and political reporting has been irreversibly altered as a result of the humble Blog.

It's funny to see some people getting all uppity about blogging, podcasting, etc and whether they're new or not, or faddish or not, sad or not... we who blog, blog, those who don't, don't. Nothing more to it. There is good and there is bad and, naturally, the best and most interesting stuff rises to the top and stays. (As before), Vitriolica Webb, Portugal