All posts by Deirdre Straughan

The Great Global Conspiracy

“There are, of course, conspiracies in American life: Watergate was one; Enron seems to be another. And conspiracy theories have oozed through the history of the republic from the days of anti-Masonry onward. But it was Kennedy’s murder, coupled with Oswald’s, that left our era more inclined to reach for conspiracy as the explanation for certain events – from Roswell to the moon landing to Whitewater – that we cannot understand, or for some reason wish to believe never happened, or inflate with a significance they cannot possess.”
Freed From Conspiracy, By Thomas Mallon, November 21, 2003 New York Times

This editorial explained a lot to me. I have wondered why some people want to believe that there’s a conspiracy behind just about anything. When I frequented Internet discussion groups on behalf of Adaptec/Roxio, I observed people who insisted that just about everything that went wrong with computers was part of a Microsoft conspiracy to… what? Cause ulcers worldwide?

Everyone loves a good conspiracy theory, perhaps because, no matter how “fiendishly clever,” a conspiracy is easier to grasp than the huge, messy truth. Such theories are fun, but, even from my limited perspective on the vast corporate world, I think I saw what was actually happening.

Basically, any organization is considerably less than the sum of its parts. Your company may have many smart employees but, most of the time, they will not be able to use their smarts efficiently. So much gets in the way: individual egos, bureaucratic structures, territoriality, inertia, lack of resources, cultural and character misunderstandings (or the opposite, groupthink). Hell, it’s hard enough to overcome these kinds of problems in that much smaller organization, the family.

So most companies don’t work very well, and most of what any company manages to produce is the precious little that survives many trials by bullshit.

Which means that Microsoft, as a very large organization, is collectively very smart – but also very dumb. It’s certainly not smart enough to pull off the kinds of grand conspiracies that people wish to attribute to it. (Microsoft has tried to get away with all sorts of things, but has been amazingly dumb about it, for example leaving trails of incriminating emails. Hello? Are we a software company?)

Most national governments are even larger than Microsoft, with few agreed-upon goals (at least Microsoft has a clear goal of making money for itself and its stockholders), so governments seem even less likely to accomplish any hidden grand design. Very occasionally, a government manages to achieve a grand goal that everyone agrees on, out in the open. Master plans hidden away from public view either don’t remain hidden, or don’t succeed.

What all organizations aim for, from the largest to the smallest, is to SURVIVE. In any way possible. That’s what we all grope towards, however blindly or inefficiently. Companies are created to make money by producing goods and services. Governments come into existence to serve their citizens. But all types of organizations are sooner or later subverted to support the survival of the structure and the individuals within it. Hence, for example, the power of France’s large public sector. Everyone agrees that it would be best for France and her taxpayers were the numbers, salaries, and pensions of civil servants to be reduced – everyone except those civil servants themselves, and they can bring government to its knees with strikes.

Some politicians (and even some civil servants) start out with ideals or ideologies, changes they see a need for and hope to gain sufficient power to make. Yet almost all end up focused on retaining power, by hook or by crook. Is this because power is so inherently corrupting? Or just survival instinct? If you are part of the power structure, you’re more likely to survive, whatever happens around you.

It all goes back to Darwin. From the single gene, to the cell, to the conglomeration of cells we call an organism, on up to the family, the company, and the government, everyone’s fighting for survival, both individually and as a “body” of whatever sort. Should we mourn this inherent banality in the human spirit?

I think not. After all, this is what we – and all our fellow species – have evolved to do. If our ancestors had not been in it for survival, we wouldn’t be here to tell the tale.

But neither do we have to give in to it. The fight for our individual survival does not excuse us from giving others equal rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. There will be excesses, rules and laws will be broken. Shake your head, sigh, keep pushing back. But don’t give in to the fallacy that it’s all a big conspiracy. If there were such a monster, we could find it and behead it. But there’s no single monster. What we’re up against are the many-headed monsters of stupidity, greed, and the survival instinct – in other words, “we have met the enemy, and he is us.”

Integration of Muslim Students in Italian Schools

The integration of Islamic immigrants into Italian society raises thorny problems. A Milan high school has announced that this fall it will have a first-year class composed only of Muslim students, at the request of their parents. These students have completed eight years at a private Islamic school in Milan. (This school is not accredited by the Italian education authorities, so why are 400 students allowed to attend it? By law, all children resident in Italy must attend regularly-licensed state or private institutions.)

In the past, students of this Islamic school would either stop at 8th grade (also illegal in Italy, which currently requires school through age 15), return to their countries of origin, or continue their studies with private tutors. Their parents asked a local social organization to help create a special section in a regular Italian high school where the kids could continue their studies, be kept together as a group, and the girls (17 of the group of 20) could wear the veil. The principal of a social sciences high school and the Italian social workers saw this as a step towards integration for these kids, who come from rigidly religious families that will not allow them to mingle with Italians.

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Italian Restaurants: Osteria del Viaggiatore

I had driven past this place in Lecco many times, but it’s easily overlooked – the outside of the building is unprepossessing unpainted cement, though the large sign with a mysterious painting on it is intriguing, and we heard that it was good.

So we finally went last night. The menu is fixed-price, 30 euros for five courses, drinks extra. The first antipasto was prosciutto and raspadura – scraping – very thin slices of a local hard cheese. The prosciutto was among the best I’ve ever had: sweet and tender, melt-in-your-mouth.

After that, we had to make choices, from 6 or 7 dishes for each course. For our second antipasto, I had a tortina di zucchine in fiore, a mini-pie with cheese, zucchini, and zucchini flowers. Nice, though I would have liked it a little more salty. Enrico had cold, wafer-thin slices of turkey breast with a sauce of raw tomato, celery, and cucumber. He ate all the sauce before I got to taste it, so I can’t speak to that, but the turkey was good.

For primo, Enrico had lasagnette with fagiolini, patate, and pesto – a baked lasagna dish very similar to the Genovese-style pasta with pesto that I make at home with green beans and potatoes, and in this case, bechamel. The lasagna dough was light and airy, making this dish not as heavy as I had expected, and very tasty.

I had home-made ravioli filled with borragine (borage) with a simple dressing of melted butter, sage, and pine nuts. The bitterness of the borage contrasted very nicely with the rich butter.

For secondo, Enrico had cold roast piglet sliced very thin, very similar to porchetta from central Italy, but more tender. I had two kinds of local lake fish, lavarello (sardine-sized, but lighter in flavor) and persico (perch). Both were very lightly battered and fried, leaving plenty of room for the flavor of the fish to come through. As contorno (side dishes), we were both served a small quantity of oven-roasted potatoes.

Then came dessert. Enrico had an exquisite panna cotta (cooked cream) with a dressing of strawberries and other “forest fruits.” I had “Fondente Extra Bitter”, slices of something between a mousse and a torte, made with lots of bitter chocolate, swimming in a creme Anglaise. Wow.

We tried one of the house wines that the owner has made to order, called Aromata Coeli – basically a non-sparkling Barbera which the waitress told us had been aromatizzata (perfumed), though we weren’t clear on what that meant. It was more than palatable, and a good complement to all the variety of our courses.

Keeping Cool, Italian Style

My two weeks with the lawyers reminded me of one way in which I have become very unAmerican: I hate air conditioning. Actually, I don’t really mind A/C as such, but the way Americans overdo it. The law and support team from Florida was baffled by the relative lack of air conditioning in Milan’s hot, sticky summer weather (and it’s not even that hot yet). They kept the A/C running at full blast in the conference room where we were working, obliging me to wear long pants and long-sleeved shirts every day – which made the contrast all the more unbearable with the temperature on the streets and the non-A/C train going home to Lecco.

When I was working in the US in the summers, I never got to wear my summer clothing; it was always too damned cold in the office. But at least there I was going to and from work in an air-conditioned car.

So why don’t Italians use A/C more? The trains are in fact supposed to be air-conditioned, but often the A/C simply isn’t working, or doesn’t work very well (other times it works too well – there seems to be no happy medium). At home, it’s just too expensive. We pay twice as much for electricity in Italy as people do in the US. And the grid here won’t stand up to everyone running A/C at the same time: in last summer’s record heat, everyone rushed out to buy air conditioners. The nation’s electrical system overloaded, so we had unannounced rolling blackouts, with people stuck in elevators and so on, and nobody got to enjoy their new air conditioners very much. Personally, we use ceiling fans and, when it’s really awful, standing fans as well.

In the Company of Lawyers

I’ve spent the last two weeks interpreting (English to Italian and back again) for depositions in an arbitration between a Venezuelan and an Italian company – work that I was offered via a colleague on the board of Democrats Abroad-Milan. It was arranged at the last minute, so the hirers didn’t insist on any special qualifications beyond fluency in both languages, and an American accent (for the benefit of the court reporters coming from Miami to transcribe). The money was very, very good (and very handy right now), so I made time for the job.

It was an interesting, though exhausting, experience. It wasn’t quite simultaneous translation, but near enough, especially when the lawyer started machine-gunning questions. And I had to think hard about precise shades of meaning. In a legal situation, it’s more important to get the exact meaning of both questions and answers than to translate elegantly – which frustrated me at first, since I’m a writer, and style is important to me.

The English language skills of the witnesses varied, improving steadily as we moved up the ranks of the company (cause or effect?). Everyone we interviewed was an engineer in some sense or other, and therefore understood and used many English terms in his everyday work. (“His” is the correct pronoun – they were all men.) And there are many English words in common use in business Italian where there is no efficient equivalent in Italian, e.g. “training.”

Most of the witnesses understood English well enough to follow most of the questions, although, when a single question ran on for a hundred words, I often lost track of it myself. With some witnesses, I was a mere convenience – they spoke and understood English well enough to do it all in English, so their lawyers’ insistence that I translate both questions and answers was simply a play for time, a way of forcing the witnesses to slow down and think before they spoke. One man kept answering the questions before I had a chance to translate. His lawyers frowned at me every time this happened but, hey, he’s your witness – you tell him how to behave. He was senior enough that I wasn’t going to interrupt his train of thought to translate a question that he had clearly understood perfectly. I also didn’t want to insult anyone’s English abilities.

The last witness, a senior VP, conducted his deposition entirely in very good English, and was in no danger of shooting off his mouth.

There were two tracks of depositions going on at the same time, and in the second week professional interpreters were brought in for the other track. I learned from them that I was being a masochist – the pros work half-day shifts, and were astonished that I was doing full days, especially with no prior experience. They agreed with my finding that about 40 minutes at a time is the most one can expect to be effective – around the 45-minute mark I would begin to feel my synapses smoking. Thankfully, there were breaks every hour, to change the videotape and allow the teams of lawyers to confer among themselves.

I came away with a few observations which had nothing to do with translation. One was a reinforced belief that I would never be able to work for a typical Italian company of this type. There were six or seven levels of hierarchy among the various men we interviewed, with the guys at the top living on Mount Olympus as far as their juniors were concerned. In turn, the top guy had about 1300 people working for him, most of whose names he barely knew. <shudder> I couldn’t bear to be in an organization like that. Even at Roxio, I had direct access to the CEO (and a cubicle conveniently located outside his office). Not that that access did me much good…

I also admired the skills of the lawyers. In addition to the law (of at least three countries), they had to know the reams of documentation that had already been presented in the case, as well as the reams being generated in the current testimony, and make use of it to try to trap the witnesses into admissions which the witnesses’ lawyers were equally cleverly helping their clients to sidestep. They all brought an oratorical and actorly flair to the process, one side building up the emotional pressure and trying to cause a slip, while the other side made convenient objections and used the hourly breaks to instruct the witnesses (I presume – I was never privy to what went on between the witnesses and their counsel).

I developed techno-lust for the Blackberries that all the lawyers were so attached to. I had vaguely heard about these and knew them to be particularly popular in Washington, and had just noticed them advertised by Italian mobile phone providers. One of the lawyers told me they’re cheap in the US – as low as $120 for the device, plus $25 a month or so for the service. Not cheap in Italy, as I shortly discovered. One of the companies is charging 576 euros for the device, and after that I didn’t bother to ask how much they were charging for the service. I’ll either have to wait, or figure out whether it’s possible to use a US-purchased Blackberry with an Italian SIM card.