The venerable old Beeb has produced an interesting article on the most expensive objects in the world. The initial contention is that the proposed Hinkley Point C nuclear power station in the UK may be the most expensive single object ever built, although of course this depends on the definition of "object", and whether one considers a power station to be one object or an amalgamation of various objects.
The construction costs alone of two-reactor Hinkley C project, if built, is expected to amount to some $26 billion, although Greenpeace estimates that, with financing and other costs, the total might reach $35 billion (costs throughout are in US$). This is certainly an extraordinary sum, but does it make it the most expensive object on earth, as Greenpeace claims?
To put this in context, the world's tallest building, the Burj Khalifa in Dubai, cost a paltry $1.5 billion. Heathrow Airport Terminal 2 cost an estimated $3.4 billion. The Large Hadron Collider on the France-Switzerland border cost about $5.8 billion. The eastern span of the Oakland Bay Bridge in San Francisco cost $6.5 billion. Even a hypothetical reconstruction of the Egyptian pyramids would only require about $1 - $1.5 billion in today' money.
But none of these come close to the cost of a nuclear power station. Comparisons are difficult: the last nuclear plant in Britain, Sizewell B, was built back in 1995, at a cost of about $5 billion in today's dollars, and there have been no new nuclear plants built anywhere in Europe this century. The published costs associated with nuclear power stations built more recently, in places like China and India, are considered to be of doubtful reliability.
The only projects that are even in the same ballpark as Hinkley C include: the $21.6 billion London Crossrail railway system (if that can in fact be considered a single object); the refurbishment of the Grand Mosque in Mecca, Saudi Arabia, which is reported to be costing around $23 billion (although this too stretches the definition of "object" somewhat, as it also includes things like road and rail links, etc); the Hong Kong International Airport, which cost about $20 billion back in 1998, or around $29 billion in today's dollars; and Chevron's Gorgon liquefied natural gas plant on Barrow Island in Australia, which cost a mind-boggling $37 billion.
And, finally, if we stretch the "in the world" part of the definition a little, the International Space Station had a price tag of no less than $110 billion. Even a multi-reactor nuclear power station, such as the four-reactor project planned by Turkey, or the six-reactor plant South Africa is thinking of, might have difficulty outdoing that as a pricey single object.
Friday, April 29, 2016
Thursday, April 28, 2016
Is naturopathy guilty too?
An Alberta couple, David and Collet Stephan, have just been found guilty of failing to provide the necessities of life for their 19-month old son Ezekiel, who died of meningitis back in March 2012. The two parents clearly loved their son dearly, but they are aficionados of naturopathy and herbal medicine and that is what really killed the little boy.
Initially, the couple believed that their son had a bad case of croup or flu, so they "treated" him with smoothies made with hot peppers, garlic, onions and horseradish (poor little bugger!). Ezekiel's condition continued to deteriorate, and they resorted to giving him fluids through an eye-dropper when he wouldn't eat or drink. At some point, it should have been clear to them that he was close to death, and their current "treatments" were not working. It was only as a last resort that they took little Ezekiel to hospital, where he stopped breathing and died.
Earlier, a friend who was a registered nurse had even warned them that the child probably had meningitis. So, what did they do? They went to a local naturopath who prescribed an echinacea mixture without even physically examining the child. Credit where it is due, the naturopath also said that they should take Ezekiel to hospital if they thought he might have meningitis, but clearly not forcefully enough.
Ezekiel died due to his parents' (excessive) beliefs in an iffy pseudoscience that still masquerades as a valid and mainstream health strategy. David's own father, Anthony, is a naturopath who set up his own company to market naturopathic remedies, including one that purports to treat bipolar disorder, depression, even autism. David Stephan himself is a vice president in that company.
Naturopathy is a form of alternative medicine, which includes homeopathy, herbalism and, often, acupuncture. I have ranted about homeopathy elsewhere in this blog. But naturopathy in general is a similarly pseudoscientific practice, basing its trade on insufficient or unproven science, and relying largely on its regulatory status for legitimacy (even though many of the regulations that are in force are being widely flouted). As others have made the case before me, if naturopaths call themselves doctors, then they must also take the responsibility in severe cases that any other doctor would.
To add insult to injury, David Stephan is also one of those benighted souls who still believes that vaccinations cause autism in children (the subject of another rant of mine), so Ezekiel did not receive vaccinations which might have saved him. Stephan is still adamant that their three remaining children will not be vaccinated.
The Stephans, loving parents or not, deserve what they have coming to them. But who is taking the naturopathy business to task?
Initially, the couple believed that their son had a bad case of croup or flu, so they "treated" him with smoothies made with hot peppers, garlic, onions and horseradish (poor little bugger!). Ezekiel's condition continued to deteriorate, and they resorted to giving him fluids through an eye-dropper when he wouldn't eat or drink. At some point, it should have been clear to them that he was close to death, and their current "treatments" were not working. It was only as a last resort that they took little Ezekiel to hospital, where he stopped breathing and died.
Earlier, a friend who was a registered nurse had even warned them that the child probably had meningitis. So, what did they do? They went to a local naturopath who prescribed an echinacea mixture without even physically examining the child. Credit where it is due, the naturopath also said that they should take Ezekiel to hospital if they thought he might have meningitis, but clearly not forcefully enough.
Ezekiel died due to his parents' (excessive) beliefs in an iffy pseudoscience that still masquerades as a valid and mainstream health strategy. David's own father, Anthony, is a naturopath who set up his own company to market naturopathic remedies, including one that purports to treat bipolar disorder, depression, even autism. David Stephan himself is a vice president in that company.
Naturopathy is a form of alternative medicine, which includes homeopathy, herbalism and, often, acupuncture. I have ranted about homeopathy elsewhere in this blog. But naturopathy in general is a similarly pseudoscientific practice, basing its trade on insufficient or unproven science, and relying largely on its regulatory status for legitimacy (even though many of the regulations that are in force are being widely flouted). As others have made the case before me, if naturopaths call themselves doctors, then they must also take the responsibility in severe cases that any other doctor would.
To add insult to injury, David Stephan is also one of those benighted souls who still believes that vaccinations cause autism in children (the subject of another rant of mine), so Ezekiel did not receive vaccinations which might have saved him. Stephan is still adamant that their three remaining children will not be vaccinated.
The Stephans, loving parents or not, deserve what they have coming to them. But who is taking the naturopathy business to task?
Scolds, cucking-stools, shrew's fiddles - life is not so bad these days
While reading recently (as one does...) about the use of the cucking-stool in medieval law, I got to thinking about the origin of scolding as a criminal offence.
A common scold is essentially an ill-tempered woman - there is no male equivalent - who nags or constantly grumbles and complains, also sometimes referred to as a shrew (as in Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew). Not an attractive quality, to be sure, but illegal?
For centuries, a woman could be prosecuted as a common scold (communis rixatrix, in the Latin) if she regularly acted in a troublesome or angry way, and broke the public peace by habitually arguing and quarrelling with her husband or neighbours. It seems to have been a peculiarly British thing, although it was also exported to New England with the British colonists who settled there. It was a common "crime" in medieval Britain, with the earliest evidence of legal prosecution dating back to the early 14th Century. It became more common with the speech repression that followed the outbreak of the Black Death in 1348, and certainly continued into the late 17th Century, although with much less frequency than in its heyday in the 14th-16th Century. It was technically only deleted from the criminal code of Britain in 1967.
The punishment for being a scold was usually the cucking-stool or scolding-stool, a wooden chair into which a woman could be tied. The chair was often built on wheels so that it could be trundled around the parish, and/or suspended from a pole on a fulcrum so that it could be dunked into the water of a local river or pond (hence the later name, ducking stool). You may have seen engravings of the punishment being applied to suspected witches, but it was more commonly used for other feminine offences like scolding, and sexual offences like bearing an illegitimate child or prostitution. More rarely it was used for "unruly" unmarried couples, and also, strangely, for dishonest brewers and bakers. The main purpose was public humiliation and censure, but it did sometimes prove fatal, or the victim died of shock on being ducked.
Another barbaric punishment for a scold was the scold's bridle (also known as branks in Scotland), a locking metal mask or head cage containing a tab to fit in the mouth to inhibit talking. The bridle-bit or curb-plate that fitted into the mouth was sometimes studded with spikes, so that it inflicted pain if the offender moved her tongue to speak.
Other punishments included the pillory or stocks (an uncomfortable wooden or metal framework to secure the offender's neck and wrists, often on a raised public platform), the jougs (an iron collar chained to a tree or other public place, mainly used in Scotland), and the shrew's fiddle or neck violin (a hinged wooden contraption with three holes, one for the neck and one for each wrist, often fitted with a bell for maximum humiliation value).
Sometimes, it's tempting to think that we haven't really progressed much over the centuries. It's a salutary exercise, then, to look back at examples like these to see that, well, perhaps things aren't so bad after all.
A common scold is essentially an ill-tempered woman - there is no male equivalent - who nags or constantly grumbles and complains, also sometimes referred to as a shrew (as in Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew). Not an attractive quality, to be sure, but illegal?
For centuries, a woman could be prosecuted as a common scold (communis rixatrix, in the Latin) if she regularly acted in a troublesome or angry way, and broke the public peace by habitually arguing and quarrelling with her husband or neighbours. It seems to have been a peculiarly British thing, although it was also exported to New England with the British colonists who settled there. It was a common "crime" in medieval Britain, with the earliest evidence of legal prosecution dating back to the early 14th Century. It became more common with the speech repression that followed the outbreak of the Black Death in 1348, and certainly continued into the late 17th Century, although with much less frequency than in its heyday in the 14th-16th Century. It was technically only deleted from the criminal code of Britain in 1967.
The punishment for being a scold was usually the cucking-stool or scolding-stool, a wooden chair into which a woman could be tied. The chair was often built on wheels so that it could be trundled around the parish, and/or suspended from a pole on a fulcrum so that it could be dunked into the water of a local river or pond (hence the later name, ducking stool). You may have seen engravings of the punishment being applied to suspected witches, but it was more commonly used for other feminine offences like scolding, and sexual offences like bearing an illegitimate child or prostitution. More rarely it was used for "unruly" unmarried couples, and also, strangely, for dishonest brewers and bakers. The main purpose was public humiliation and censure, but it did sometimes prove fatal, or the victim died of shock on being ducked.
Another barbaric punishment for a scold was the scold's bridle (also known as branks in Scotland), a locking metal mask or head cage containing a tab to fit in the mouth to inhibit talking. The bridle-bit or curb-plate that fitted into the mouth was sometimes studded with spikes, so that it inflicted pain if the offender moved her tongue to speak.
Other punishments included the pillory or stocks (an uncomfortable wooden or metal framework to secure the offender's neck and wrists, often on a raised public platform), the jougs (an iron collar chained to a tree or other public place, mainly used in Scotland), and the shrew's fiddle or neck violin (a hinged wooden contraption with three holes, one for the neck and one for each wrist, often fitted with a bell for maximum humiliation value).
Sometimes, it's tempting to think that we haven't really progressed much over the centuries. It's a salutary exercise, then, to look back at examples like these to see that, well, perhaps things aren't so bad after all.
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
Chasing Asylum - Australia's shameful secret
Today, CBC aired out a thought-provoking and somewhat alarming interview with Eva Orner, director of a new documentary called Chasing Asylum. Tagged "The film the Australian government doesn't want you to see", the film features disturbing, secretly-recorded and never-before-seen footage from Australia's detention centres for intercepted refugees, which are located on the Pacific island nation of Nauru, and on Manus Island in Papua New Guinea (the latter apparently slated for closure).
Since 2001, it has been official Australian policy to intercept refugee boats, and government pronouncements have made it very clear than anyone caught trying to enter illegally will never, ever make Australia home. These would-be asylum seekers - mainly from the Middle East, Afghanistan and Sri Lanka - may be kept in these detention centres for many months, even years, with no ability to process asylum claims, and effectively outside the system and away from any possible publicity or prying eyes. The refugees are offered a choice of settling in Nauru - a failed state with huge unemployment problems and no facilities for refugees, all but destroyed by unfettered mining, and offering no future prospects for the asylum seekers - or a return to the very homeland they are seeking to escape. There are rumours that Australia is looking to pay tens of millions of dollars to countries like Cambodia, Thailand and Kazakhstan to take the refugees off their hands.
The documentary-maker argues that such a policy, which has been a popular one over a succession of recent elections, plays on the fears of many Australians of being overrun by foreign cultures and "undesirables", and underscores the essentially racist attitudes prevalent in Australian society. The solution is certainly not cheap: Australia currently spends about $1.2 billion a years to maintain camps for about 2,000 refugees, much of it going on military-style security companies and, effectively, bribe money for the governments of Nauru and Papua New Guinea. Even though the camps themselves are run on a shoestring, with substandard accommodation, poor food, and young and inexperienced staff, the kick-backs to the host countries still end up costing the Australian taxpayers a lot of money.
Some of the most harrowing parts of the documentary deal with the conditions in the camps. Most of the inmates, and even many of the staff that end up working there, are traumatized by the experience. Accommodation is in mouldy tents with cardboard and mud floors; malaria and other diseases are rife; food is substandard and maggot-ridden; mental illness, and self-harm in horrific ways, is commonplace; sexual abuse of both adults and children (mainly by local residents) is rampant.
Working on the film has caused Ms. Orner to question Australia's very status as a civilized and democratic country. None of the prominent Australian politicians who are, or were, in a position to confront the situation agreed to be interviewed for the documentary. Their public standpoint, when pressed, is that this is the policy that the voters of Australia want. Ms. Orner argues that the voters are just not aware of the facts, and neither are most of the country's politicians, and her brave film is intended to present the hidden facts so that people can make a more informed decision. I wish her the best of luck.
Since 2001, it has been official Australian policy to intercept refugee boats, and government pronouncements have made it very clear than anyone caught trying to enter illegally will never, ever make Australia home. These would-be asylum seekers - mainly from the Middle East, Afghanistan and Sri Lanka - may be kept in these detention centres for many months, even years, with no ability to process asylum claims, and effectively outside the system and away from any possible publicity or prying eyes. The refugees are offered a choice of settling in Nauru - a failed state with huge unemployment problems and no facilities for refugees, all but destroyed by unfettered mining, and offering no future prospects for the asylum seekers - or a return to the very homeland they are seeking to escape. There are rumours that Australia is looking to pay tens of millions of dollars to countries like Cambodia, Thailand and Kazakhstan to take the refugees off their hands.
The documentary-maker argues that such a policy, which has been a popular one over a succession of recent elections, plays on the fears of many Australians of being overrun by foreign cultures and "undesirables", and underscores the essentially racist attitudes prevalent in Australian society. The solution is certainly not cheap: Australia currently spends about $1.2 billion a years to maintain camps for about 2,000 refugees, much of it going on military-style security companies and, effectively, bribe money for the governments of Nauru and Papua New Guinea. Even though the camps themselves are run on a shoestring, with substandard accommodation, poor food, and young and inexperienced staff, the kick-backs to the host countries still end up costing the Australian taxpayers a lot of money.
Some of the most harrowing parts of the documentary deal with the conditions in the camps. Most of the inmates, and even many of the staff that end up working there, are traumatized by the experience. Accommodation is in mouldy tents with cardboard and mud floors; malaria and other diseases are rife; food is substandard and maggot-ridden; mental illness, and self-harm in horrific ways, is commonplace; sexual abuse of both adults and children (mainly by local residents) is rampant.
Working on the film has caused Ms. Orner to question Australia's very status as a civilized and democratic country. None of the prominent Australian politicians who are, or were, in a position to confront the situation agreed to be interviewed for the documentary. Their public standpoint, when pressed, is that this is the policy that the voters of Australia want. Ms. Orner argues that the voters are just not aware of the facts, and neither are most of the country's politicians, and her brave film is intended to present the hidden facts so that people can make a more informed decision. I wish her the best of luck.
Saudi Arabia getting out of the oil business?
I don't often have much good to say about Saudi Arabia, one of the world's great pariah states, but a radical and ambitious new plan they are calling Vision 2030 certainly made me sit up and pay attention.
The report is the responsibility of the Saudi defence minister, second in line to the Saudi throne, and favoured son, Deputy Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman (Deputy Crown Prince is such a strange title, but then this is, after all, a strange country). In a news conference to launch the plan, he openly accused his own country of being addicted to oil. "We have developed a case of oil addiction in Saudi Arabia," he said. Pretty clear, pretty damning, and pretty revolutionary in Saudi terms. Much of the report details the ways in which the country can wean itself off oil completely, which it recognizes as an old, potentially obsolete, technology. Canadian politicians and businessmen could learn a lesson or two here.
Prince Mohammed claims that Saudi Arabia "can live without oil by 2020". Given that some 77% of the country's revenues come from oil, this is ambitious to say the very least, and many commentators (including Saudi businessmen) see it as just pie-in-the-sky implausible and impractical. But with oil prices less than half of what they were just a couple of years ago - a situation largely brought on by Saudi Arabia itself - the country needs to do something pretty dramatic to stem the bleeding of its economy (it may have deep pockets, but they are not infinite).
Among the reforms Prince Mohammed is recommending is the sale of 5% of state-owned oil company Aramco, the proceeds to go towards establishing a $2 trillion "sovereign wealth fund". Given that Saudi Aramco is the world's largest company - reportedly worth about $2.5 trillion, way larger than Apple, Microsoft and Google/Alphabet put together - this would make it by far the largest IPO ever, and could have huge repercussions on world markets. Other economic reforms in the report include moves to diversify the economy, increased investment in mineral mining, and the expansion (and possibly privatization) of Saudi military production, this latter a worrisome trend for many.
Another recommendation is to reduce or even completely remove the huge subsidies that make Saudi gasoline prices some of the cheapest in the world (currently around 32c/litre). As an indication of how this might play out, water and electricity subsidies have recently been removed, much to the consternation of many, although the prince insists that he is keen to make sure that the poor do not suffer due to the reforms. New public transit facilities in Riyadh and Jeddah are also underway already, as part of the attempt to wean people away from their reliance on gasoline.
Perhaps even more shocking, the report also recommends some (minor) social reforms as well, such as a new visa system to allow expatriate Muslims and Arabs to work long-term in Saudi Arabia, a relaxation of residency laws, and a move towards building affordable housing, collecting taxes, and even increasing the participation of women in the workforce.
Life in Saudi Arabia is perhaps not as idyllic as some people may think, at least for those outside the ultra-rich ruling class. It is a very rich country, but it is not necessarily full of rich people, and there is a huge gap between the rich and the regular people, especially those on public sector salaries. 50% of the Saudi population is less than 25 years old, and 70% under 30 (Prince Mohammed himself is only 30). Foreign workers make up about one-third of the population, and about two thirds of the actual work-force. Saudi social media is already rife with complaints from the local population that they are finding it difficult to pay their rent, or even to find a home. To maintain their old standard of living, many households now require two incomes, so there is increasing pressure to allow women to pull their weight in the workforce.
Changes of this magnitude will cause huge ripples in Saudi society and a massive upheaval in Saudi business circles. But it can only be seen as a positive shift in attitudes, and perhaps a reflection of a new generation in the Saudi ruling classes. Who knows, perhaps they will even let women drive there sometime soon?
The report is the responsibility of the Saudi defence minister, second in line to the Saudi throne, and favoured son, Deputy Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman (Deputy Crown Prince is such a strange title, but then this is, after all, a strange country). In a news conference to launch the plan, he openly accused his own country of being addicted to oil. "We have developed a case of oil addiction in Saudi Arabia," he said. Pretty clear, pretty damning, and pretty revolutionary in Saudi terms. Much of the report details the ways in which the country can wean itself off oil completely, which it recognizes as an old, potentially obsolete, technology. Canadian politicians and businessmen could learn a lesson or two here.
Prince Mohammed claims that Saudi Arabia "can live without oil by 2020". Given that some 77% of the country's revenues come from oil, this is ambitious to say the very least, and many commentators (including Saudi businessmen) see it as just pie-in-the-sky implausible and impractical. But with oil prices less than half of what they were just a couple of years ago - a situation largely brought on by Saudi Arabia itself - the country needs to do something pretty dramatic to stem the bleeding of its economy (it may have deep pockets, but they are not infinite).
Among the reforms Prince Mohammed is recommending is the sale of 5% of state-owned oil company Aramco, the proceeds to go towards establishing a $2 trillion "sovereign wealth fund". Given that Saudi Aramco is the world's largest company - reportedly worth about $2.5 trillion, way larger than Apple, Microsoft and Google/Alphabet put together - this would make it by far the largest IPO ever, and could have huge repercussions on world markets. Other economic reforms in the report include moves to diversify the economy, increased investment in mineral mining, and the expansion (and possibly privatization) of Saudi military production, this latter a worrisome trend for many.
Another recommendation is to reduce or even completely remove the huge subsidies that make Saudi gasoline prices some of the cheapest in the world (currently around 32c/litre). As an indication of how this might play out, water and electricity subsidies have recently been removed, much to the consternation of many, although the prince insists that he is keen to make sure that the poor do not suffer due to the reforms. New public transit facilities in Riyadh and Jeddah are also underway already, as part of the attempt to wean people away from their reliance on gasoline.
Perhaps even more shocking, the report also recommends some (minor) social reforms as well, such as a new visa system to allow expatriate Muslims and Arabs to work long-term in Saudi Arabia, a relaxation of residency laws, and a move towards building affordable housing, collecting taxes, and even increasing the participation of women in the workforce.
Life in Saudi Arabia is perhaps not as idyllic as some people may think, at least for those outside the ultra-rich ruling class. It is a very rich country, but it is not necessarily full of rich people, and there is a huge gap between the rich and the regular people, especially those on public sector salaries. 50% of the Saudi population is less than 25 years old, and 70% under 30 (Prince Mohammed himself is only 30). Foreign workers make up about one-third of the population, and about two thirds of the actual work-force. Saudi social media is already rife with complaints from the local population that they are finding it difficult to pay their rent, or even to find a home. To maintain their old standard of living, many households now require two incomes, so there is increasing pressure to allow women to pull their weight in the workforce.
Changes of this magnitude will cause huge ripples in Saudi society and a massive upheaval in Saudi business circles. But it can only be seen as a positive shift in attitudes, and perhaps a reflection of a new generation in the Saudi ruling classes. Who knows, perhaps they will even let women drive there sometime soon?
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
Boomers, Millennials, Gen X/Y/Z - generations explained
I get very confused when I read about Millennials, Generation X, Generation Z, etc, etc. So, here are all those generations and demographic cohorts in black and white:
UPDATE
For what it's worth, the influential Pew Research Center has recently tried to refine these definitions:
One question occurs to me: why would the Pew Research Center - a respected American think-tank and polling organization - even bother?
- Baby Boomers (also known as the Me Generation) refers to the generation born after the Second World War, usually meaning from 1946 to about 1964.
- Generation X (or just Gen X) are those born anytime between the early 1960s and the early 1980s.
- Generation Y (also known as Millennials, Generation We, the Global Generation, Generation Net, etc) are those born just before the millennium, usually taken to mean anywhere from about 1980 to 2000.
- Generation Z is the latest cohort, and refers to those born after the late 1990s or early 2000s.
UPDATE
For what it's worth, the influential Pew Research Center has recently tried to refine these definitions:
- Silent Generation: born between 1928 and 1945 (currently 73 - 90 years old).
- Baby Boomers: born between 1946 and 1964 (currently 54 - 72 years old).
- Generation X: born between 1965 and 1980 (currently 38 - 53 years old).
- Millennials: born between 1981 and 1996 (currently 22 - 37 years old).
- Post-Millennials: born after 1996 (currently 21 or younger).
One question occurs to me: why would the Pew Research Center - a respected American think-tank and polling organization - even bother?
Islamic terrorism? In the Philippines?
With the news today that a Canadian living in the Philippines has been kidnapped and executed by Islamist terrorists (with another Canadian remaining captive, and living on borrowed time), international terrorism has come very close to home.
John Ridsdel (the Canadian who was beheaded) and Robert Hall (who remains in captivity, and the subject of an ongoing ransom demand) were both kidnapped, along with a Norwegian man and a Filipina, on the resort island of Samal in the southern Philippines province of Davao del Norte, towards the end of last year. The kidnappings and execution were carried out by a shadowy Islamist group called Abu Sayyaf.
But I imagine that most people's reaction was, like mine, along the lines of: "Muslim terrorists in the Philippines? Isn't that a Catholic country?" So, a little research seemed in order.
So, here is the first thing to be aware of: the Philippines is a loose collection of over 7,600 islands in the western Pacific, covering about 300,000 square kilometers. The little island of Samal is about 800km, and hundreds of islands, away from the capital Manila. The country has a population of over 103 million from a whole bunch of different ethnicities. 19 main regional languages are officially recognized, in addition to the official languages of Filipino (standardized Tagalog) and English, although Ethnologue lists 186 individual languages in the Philippines, 182 of them still spoken. It is, then, a pretty disparate and heterogeneous place.
It has also had a checkered and tumultuous history of colonization, dictatorships and revolutions. In pre-colonial times, various separate nations were established under the rule of various datus, rajahs, sultans and lakans. Spanish colonization began in 1521, with all the misery that always seems to bring with it, and continued for over 300 years. The Philippine Revolution of 1896 gave rise to the First Philippine Republic. But this was short-lived, and the Philippine-American war of 1899 left the country as an American colony, which lasted until the Japanese occupation of 1942-45, and it was only in 1946 that the Philippines was finally recognized as an independent nation. Even then, though, the country had to deal with twenty years of the corrupt dictatorship of Ferdinand Marcos, the People Power Revolution of 1986, the Maguindanao massacres of 2009, various volcanic eruptions, typhoons and other natural disasters, the Asian financial crisis, etc, etc. It seems like there is never a dull moment in the Philippines.
Yes, the Philippines is a predominantly Christian country, with an estimated 83% of the population identifying as Catholic, but that percentage is gradually falling as Catholicism - largely a hangover from Spanish colonial times - gradually loosens its grip. Muslims, mainly Sunnis, are the second largest religions group, making up about 5% according to the most recent census, but as much as 11% according to the National Commission on Muslim Filipinos.
Abu Sayyaf, the Muslim terrorist group that carried out the recent kidnappings, is based in the Mindanoa region in the southwest of the Philippines. For over 30 years, it has been agitating, like the larger Moro National Liberation Front, for an independent Islamic province. Although small (an estimated 200-400 members, down from around 1,250 during its heyday in the early 2000s), the group is violent and radical. Their MO is bombings, kidnappings, assassinations and extortion, with side lines of rape, forced marriages, piracy and drug trafficking. They are most notorious for the Philippines' worst terrorist attack, the 2004 bombing of the Superferry 14, which killed 116 people. In 2014, like several other terrorist groups, they jumped on the Islamic State bandwagon, although the two organizations have no real connections. So, all in all, a small but thoroughly unpleasant terrorist group.
The rest as they say, is history. There is nothing to suggest that Abu Sayyaf is deliberately targeting Canadians, this is just business-as-usual for them.
John Ridsdel (the Canadian who was beheaded) and Robert Hall (who remains in captivity, and the subject of an ongoing ransom demand) were both kidnapped, along with a Norwegian man and a Filipina, on the resort island of Samal in the southern Philippines province of Davao del Norte, towards the end of last year. The kidnappings and execution were carried out by a shadowy Islamist group called Abu Sayyaf.
But I imagine that most people's reaction was, like mine, along the lines of: "Muslim terrorists in the Philippines? Isn't that a Catholic country?" So, a little research seemed in order.
So, here is the first thing to be aware of: the Philippines is a loose collection of over 7,600 islands in the western Pacific, covering about 300,000 square kilometers. The little island of Samal is about 800km, and hundreds of islands, away from the capital Manila. The country has a population of over 103 million from a whole bunch of different ethnicities. 19 main regional languages are officially recognized, in addition to the official languages of Filipino (standardized Tagalog) and English, although Ethnologue lists 186 individual languages in the Philippines, 182 of them still spoken. It is, then, a pretty disparate and heterogeneous place.
It has also had a checkered and tumultuous history of colonization, dictatorships and revolutions. In pre-colonial times, various separate nations were established under the rule of various datus, rajahs, sultans and lakans. Spanish colonization began in 1521, with all the misery that always seems to bring with it, and continued for over 300 years. The Philippine Revolution of 1896 gave rise to the First Philippine Republic. But this was short-lived, and the Philippine-American war of 1899 left the country as an American colony, which lasted until the Japanese occupation of 1942-45, and it was only in 1946 that the Philippines was finally recognized as an independent nation. Even then, though, the country had to deal with twenty years of the corrupt dictatorship of Ferdinand Marcos, the People Power Revolution of 1986, the Maguindanao massacres of 2009, various volcanic eruptions, typhoons and other natural disasters, the Asian financial crisis, etc, etc. It seems like there is never a dull moment in the Philippines.
Yes, the Philippines is a predominantly Christian country, with an estimated 83% of the population identifying as Catholic, but that percentage is gradually falling as Catholicism - largely a hangover from Spanish colonial times - gradually loosens its grip. Muslims, mainly Sunnis, are the second largest religions group, making up about 5% according to the most recent census, but as much as 11% according to the National Commission on Muslim Filipinos.
Abu Sayyaf, the Muslim terrorist group that carried out the recent kidnappings, is based in the Mindanoa region in the southwest of the Philippines. For over 30 years, it has been agitating, like the larger Moro National Liberation Front, for an independent Islamic province. Although small (an estimated 200-400 members, down from around 1,250 during its heyday in the early 2000s), the group is violent and radical. Their MO is bombings, kidnappings, assassinations and extortion, with side lines of rape, forced marriages, piracy and drug trafficking. They are most notorious for the Philippines' worst terrorist attack, the 2004 bombing of the Superferry 14, which killed 116 people. In 2014, like several other terrorist groups, they jumped on the Islamic State bandwagon, although the two organizations have no real connections. So, all in all, a small but thoroughly unpleasant terrorist group.
The rest as they say, is history. There is nothing to suggest that Abu Sayyaf is deliberately targeting Canadians, this is just business-as-usual for them.
Yes, some remote indigenous reserves may be unsustainable
An article by an aboriginal woman from the Bay of Quinte area in southern Ontario about why she would never leave her native home has struck a bit of a dissonant chord, judging by the Letters to the Editor it has generated. The article itself was a response to recent comments by ex-Premier Jean Chrétien, suggesting that remote reserves may indeed be unsustainable and uneconomic, and that some people may need to move.
I too sent in a letter, although I knew it was too long to print, but here it is anyway:
I too sent in a letter, although I knew it was too long to print, but here it is anyway:
It was interesting to read a first-hand account of why aboriginal people might not want to move away from their ancestral lands (Why I won't leave my native home - April 25 2016). But I don't believe that the suggestion is "disrespectful", nor is it necessarily "racist" and "narrow".I actually asked that the letter not be cut or edited, and thereby risk losing context, so I am not actually surprised it was not printed. Anything to do with indigenous people in Canada always seems to take on a hypersensitive political aspect, so I did not want to be seen as being dismissive, disrespectful or (God forbid) racist in some way.
I, and millions of other Canadians, have done just that (left our homes and ancestral lands) in coming to Canada.
Interestingly, much of the article is framed in quasi-religious or spiritual terms, but I suspect that not all indigenous people are quite so spiritual, or feel so close to the land. I would think that many of the teens of Attawapiskat, for example, would jump at the chance to leave.
And this does not have to involve a large, crowded city. Canada has many small and medium-sized towns, with good housing, education and healthcare facilities, and many with access to good hunting and fishing to boot.
The remote north of Canada may (or may not) be a sustainable location for a traditional hunter-gatherer lifestyle. But much of it is just too remote to allow for the modern, comfortable, middle-class lifestyle so many people want.
To open up the discussion to the idea of voluntary relocation is in no way sacrilegious, and has nothing to do with "judging" or "hate". The northern wilderness will always be there for those who wish to visit, and parts of it can even be maintained as sacred, protected areas for members of particular cultures if need be. But people should not be forced to live there.