Addicted to Power

Power is a strange thing.   Political power comes from having the capacity to control what others can say or do.  In the US, that power rests on democratic principles; if anyone goes too far astray in exercising political power they are punished at the ballot box.  In authoritarian societies power rests on a calculation: citizens must be satisfied enough and fearful enough to decide that going along with the regime in power is better for them personally than protesting or acting against it.

The leader has two major threats.   The most immediate is from other elites.   Having power in a country like Libya means numerous perks and advantages, thanks to the oil revenue the country brings in.   Other elites would like that power, power draws ruthless people like moths to flame.   So a dictator/authoritarian must make sure he is surrounded with security forces loyal to him, and that enough elites benefit from his largesse to the point that they would choose not to risk it all by challenging the leader.   Moreover, they would also oppose the challenge of another, since the other is not guaranteed to continue that largesse.  Job one, therefore, is to buy the loyalty of elites while maintaining a strong security force.

The other danger, that of popular rebellion, is easier to prevent.   Severe repression, including imprisonment, torture, beatings and even death, send a message that resistance bears a high cost.   A strong security force with an extensive domestic spying network can pretty much break up any challenge that might start to arise.   Individuals don’t resist because they know it will lead to no change in the system but could destroy their lives and families.   On top of that, leaders can make people feel comfortable enough — assure basic services, social welfare benefits, and security — that they citizens accept the rationale that the government means stability.   Without it, who knows what kind of chaos and horrors could ensue?

Gaddafi apparently had that calculation right for 42 years.  Building a cult of personality around himself, connecting with foreign leaders, and buying off the support of tribal chiefs he essentially eliminated the idea of a coup from within.   Keeping the public satisfied seemed easier.    He felt untouchable in his control of Libya, even after it became clear that his early dreams of uniting the Arab world under his vision of pan-Arabian socialism wasn’t going to happen.   He staked out a radical anti-West position, held out against pressure after it was discovered Libya was behind a terror attack against a Pan-Am flight that exploded over Scotland, and leveraged oil resources to bring the West to a grudging acceptance of his rule.

Like Mubarak, however, he didn’t see the domestic world changing around him.   This is also similar to the case of Communist leaders in the USSR.  Despite warnings from below that the economy was collapsing — in the 70s the Soviet KGB warned that their economy would disintegrate within ten to twenty years — the leaders felt comfortably in charge, buoyed by their international status.    In the case of Communism the change was brought by an economy that was fundamentally flawed and unable to innovate or grow.  In the Arab world demography and technology were key.

Gaddafi had controlled what his people heard or saw of the outside world.  State TV and the press told the government’s side of the story, few people looked elsewhere.   Moreover to his generation he was a nationalist hero, someone who overthrew the King and fought against the last vestiges of colonialism.  He kicked out the remaining Italians, and seemed to symbolize Libya for the Arabs rather than the Europeans.   A desire for security and stability was strong in that generation, and their docility was easy to buy and maintain.   Even if they soured on his leadership after awhile, they were used to it, and it seemed the norm.

The youth rising up, however, do not see Gaddafi as a symbol of anti-colonialism, but rather of corruption and repression.   They also realize that the vast oil revenues flowing in too often went to Gaddafi’s personal ambitions, be they building projects at home, adventures in African conflicts, or building a large military.  The oldest of this new generation led a push for more contacts with the West, something that seemed harmless enough, and would bring more money into the country.   The younger, however, embraced this alongside real information about the outside world.   As in Egypt al-jazeera brought images of what life could be like (Presidents can be elected rather than simply serve for life!), and laid bare the corruption and stagnation in the Arab world.    Resentment grew and all it took was a spark.

Tunisia was that spark; unexpected and sudden, it told the youth that apparently embedded dictators could be overthrown.   Technology helped overcome the state’s usual calculation that repression could thwart any protest.   Through social media such as facebook and twitter enough people could gather that would get notice — and not be easy to put down.   Once a critical mass is reached, such opposition becomes ever harder to put down.  The state starts crumbling.  That is where Libya is now.

Yet Gaddafi is unable to accept reality.  He is so used to power and authority that he and his family cling to it at all costs.   His honor and dignity, already sacrificed, seem more important than his country and the lives of Libyans.   Power has numbed him to ethical principles.   Power is all that matters, he is addicted to it, he’d sooner go down in sea of blood (he’s used that image) than recognize that the world is changing and his time is over.  42 years of power is an impressive run; he’s old, certainly he could find a place of refuge to live out the remaining years in relative comfort.

But no.  He can’t imagine that.   He sees himself as indispensable, entitled to lead Libya, and betrayed by foreigners and nefarious media organizations.   He likely doesn’t understand the youth dynamics, he’s been isolated from the common folk for four decades.  The Libya he thinks exists has changed.    His state media put out claims that al qaeda is controlling the East (to scare the Europeans) and tries to wrap itself in the anti-colonial symbols that played so well for him in the 1970s.   The people tune it out, they know state television is rubbish.

So now we watch as the body count rises, violence grows, and people try to figure out what to do about the situation.  Do we intervene, or would that make matters worse?  What about the rising cost of oil, and the chance this could spread?   One lesson is clear though: power not only corrupts, it addicts.

Teaching and Change

Those who read this blog regularly note that I have not been very prolific in my posts so far this month.   I’ve been even worse at following other peoples’ blogs.  There is a reason for that – I’m teaching a winter term course on line (German and Italian Politics), a purely web based course.  It has been a work intensive experience, but one which is going well, and something I’ll probably do a lot of in the future.   All this has me thinking about the way technology has changed education over the years.

My benchmark is my own undergraduate career.   In some ways I was at the end of the ‘classic era’ of post-war education, graduating from Augustana College in Sioux Falls in 1982, just before technology started to change universities in a fundamental manner.

On an average day I’d get up, shower, and with a few friends from the dorm floor (the dorms were mixed gender, but floors were either male or female) head to breakfast at the cafeteria.    If I had an 8:00 class I literally could time it that my alarm could go off at 7:53, and I’d brush my teeth, pee (those two at the same time — multi-tasking), get dressed and be in class on time.   Our cafeteria was not that much different than a high school cafeteria.  There were two lines; for breakfast you’d get toast, cereal, maybe pancakes, eggs and sausage.  To drink there was orange juice and milk.  Lunch and dinner usually had a choice of two entres (perhaps a pasta or some chicken dish) and there was no going back for seconds.  That’s changed dramatically — now students have salad bars, pizza bars, sandwich centers, main courses, ice cream, self-serve soda, and can graze on whatever they want.   We could only fantasize about such college cuisine — yet I think students now complain just as much as we did.   Augustana was served by the ARA company, which merged with another to form Aramark, which serves UMF.

In class the main “technologies” involved either chalk on a board, or an overhead projector.   I hated overheads.  When I started teaching they were still widely used, but I refused.  They have since all but disappeared.  I do not miss them.  Every once in awhile a film would be shown, usually from a reel on a projector.   VCRs existed, but in these early years they cost nearly $1000.  Televisions were not used in classrooms, though I still remember going to the dorm lobby on Thursday as everyone crowded around to watch the new classic — Mork and Mindy. Nanu Nanu!

Research had to be done in the library.  It was important to know how to use a few tools — the card catalogue, which involved rows of drawers of index cards, and the readers guide to periodicals.   The library was short on journals (it was not a wealthy private school), so we didn’t use journal articles very much.  We had a few — I remember Foreign Affairs — but most of the research was through books.   That limited what you could do.  Interlibrary loan was not around, and though personal computers existed, they didn’t even rudimentary word processing programs yet, let alone anything useful for research.

Still, we wrote papers.   Revising a paper was a major affair.  You could not simply go in and edit and make changes like one can with Word. I would type a draft (not ‘print out’ — we didn’t have access to ‘printers’), and then make major revisions by hand on that draft.  Any time I revised anything I’d have to type the whole paper over.   If it was small maybe I could make it just the page, or I could use white out.  Sometimes I’d go to my dad’s office and use his Secretary’s IBM Selectric (you could use a key to erase the previous letter).  But it was time consuming.  Then if I didn’t pay attention and went past the pencil mark indicating I was an inch from the bottom, I’d have to retype the page.   Luckily, I was a fast typist (still am), but for some the effort meant the first draft would be the last draft, revising was too difficult.

Exams and handouts were all mimeographed, or “ditto’d.”  The ‘ditto machine’ was hand cranked, and would make copies quickly and cheaply.   Handouts were sometimes called ‘dittos.’   Xeroxes (that’s what photocopies were called, thanks to the ubiquitous nature of the Xerox company at the time) were far too expensive.  The library had a xerox machine that charged ten cents a copy — in dimes or nickles of course.  If I was going to do some research, I’d often have to stop by the bank and get a couple rolls of dimes.

Teachers had little “grade books” where grades were marked.   Changes in schedules or assignments were announced in class — if you weren’t there, you missed it.    No internet, no texting, no Facebook, no e-mail, no cell phones (though each dorm room did have its own phone).

Nowadays just about every classroom is “smart” – you can show DVDs, hook up your computer, do power point presentations (with video and web access), and look things up right away if a student asks a question the teacher doesn’t have the answer for.  E-mail notices keep students connected to professors, and often replace the old fashioned visit to the office to ask about an assignment.   Research involves on line data bases, interlibrary loan, and simple web research.   A student at a small rural campus has access to information unimaginable in the past.  Research I traveled to Germany to do as a graduate student could be done easily now by an undergraduate on line.

On line courses are the new trend, growing far beyond the rather gimmicky market driven approach that “Phoenix University” had in the 90s.  Using software like “Blackboard” (a term students might soon not comprehend), students can submit assignments, get feedback, have grades posted, participate in discussions, and even view power points, video recordings, podcasts and the like.  You can use chat sessions, share websites, and engage the material and each other without leaving home.  Students who work can participate around their work schedule.

A few faculty don’t like this — especially a public liberal arts university like ours has built its reputation on close contact between students and faculty, personal relationships that seem endangered by technology.   After doing an on line course I say to that: rubbish.   In some ways, I think students have engaged the content of the course more intensely than in a normal course — they have to, they need to post daily work that gets an almost immediate grade in order to pass.   They can’t float through and then cram for an exam.  The discussion board will probably hit nearly 800 posts for three weeks — that’s 40 posts a student on average, talking about course content.  I’m in constant contact by e-mail or through Blackboard with students about research and questions concerning the course.   I read much more work than I do in a normal semester, because it’s all based on writing.  I feel like I’ve gotten to know new students and have had quality interactions.

Watching the rapid pace of technology driven change in the field of higher education is exciting.  In the 90s some thought web based courses would drive universities out of business.   Few believe that any more, especially since quality institutions are integrating that into their offerings.  But students are able to take courses form different institutions (multi-campus students) and while more information is available, some students still simply google what they need to know at the moment.   Like all technology, it’s a mistake to either condemn it as bad or praise it as good.  Technology provides tools, and if you use tools correctly, the results are good.