Stop ad hominem criticisms of Trump

Judge his actions, not his hair.

Trump is orange. His hair is ridiculous. He has tiny hands. He has a micropenis. He looked at the sun. There seems to be no end of ad hominem attacks against President Trump, and they really ought to stop.

I argue three interlinked reasons why we should stop with these sorts of criticisms:
1) It weakens the force of any criticisms we have about his policies and behaviour (which are the real problem)
2) It teaches children (and reinforces in teens and adults) the idea that looks are really important
3) His hairstyle, hand size etc are irrelevant to his ability to be a world leader

The first reason is the most important, and I shall deal with it first.

Trump's behaviour as President (and indeed before he was President) is contemptible. His "locker room talk" about grabbing women by the pussy is inappropriate for a President, not to mention that the things he describes amount to sexual assault. He has openly flaunted the fact that his privilege as a wealthy man has meant that he is able to get away with sexist, objectionable and even criminal behaviour towards women. His policies on immigration are troubling, and his disdain for Muslims is prejudiced, antagonistic and discriminatory. His policies regarding abortion are deeply troubling. And his aggressive and defiant tit-for-tat attitude towards North Korea may be the catalyst which begins
World War 3 (although a meeting between the two of them is now on the cards.) I could go on and on listing Trump's objectionable and offensive behaviour and policies, but this is unnecessary: suffice to say that he is a vile and dangerous man.

Constant criticisms of Trump's hairstyle, hand size etc serve as distractors: we watch the magician waving a red hankie around while he pockets the ball which we'd taken our eye off. If we get into the habit of criticising Trump's every feature, we have our attention diverted away from his genuine flaws to the extent that it weakens the impact of meaningful criticisms of him. Suppose the newspapers run the following stories over a 10 day period:

Monday: Trump has tiny hands
Tuesday: Trump walks around with his shoelaces undone
Wednesday: Trump calls a woman a 'hottie'
Thursday: Trump 's hair blows around in the wind, looking ridiculous
Friday: Trump says that Muslims should get out of America or suffer the consequences
Saturday: Trump's suit jacket doesn't match his trousers
Sunday: Trump 's fingernails are too long
Monday: Trump looks at the sun
Tuesday: Trump signs a law allowing all Mexican illegal immigrants to be put in forced labour camps
Wednesday: Someone makes a statue of trump with a micropenis

It's easy to see how the really disturbing stories get lost in the smorgasbord of futile ad hominem criticisms of Trump's appearance and other minutia, and when we become accustomed to a daily diet of Trump criticisms, it weakens the force of the things which we really need to pay attention to. We are so distracted and fatigued: blah blah, another Trump story. The constant barrage of hand / hair criticisms are irrelevant and they should be stopped, lest we ignore the real reason why we should be alarmed by Trump's time in office (and his behaviour in general). His policies and behaviour should be the foci of our criticisms of him; not his hairstyle.

Judge his actions, not his moustache.

Consider how it would seem if we were to criticise Hitler for using too much hair gel, or for having a silly moustache. These criticisms may well be true, but they are missing the more important point: that the Holocaust is the real reason we should criticise Hitler. Criticising Hitler's moustache is actually pretty offensive, as it implies that his moustache is the worst thing about him; it belittles and ignores the true horrors of what took place before and during WW2 under Nazi rule. Now, I'm not suggesting that Trump is in the same league as Hitler (yet) but the analogy works: criticise the behaviour of the man, not his looks.

Now I consider my second reason for ceasing these criticisms of Trump's appearance. When the media focuses on Trump's physical features rather than his behaviour, it reinforces to children that these things are important. Children learn from the examples set by adults, and so when we make fun of someone for having small hands or silly hair, children see that these are legitimate criticisms to make of a person. The children may reproduce this towards others in the playground, on social media, or later in their adult lives. Moreover, they may come to think that appearance is an apt way to chose a political leader, and that would be disastrous. Politics is already too focused on style over substance - reinforcing it with the next generation of voters is not going to do anyone any favours. We need to set a good example to children and demonstrate to them that a person's hairstyle, skin tone, and body shape and size are less important than their behaviour; we can't do this with a constant influx of "Trump has silly hair" stories.

The third reason we should abandon these ad hominem criticisms of Trump is that the size of his hands, the style of his hair and the colour of his face is irrelevant to his ability to be a world leader. In politics, even if in no other area of life, we need strong leaders with just policies and fair outlooks; if such a leader happens to look less than perfect, this should be irrelevant to us. Now, I do not believe that Trump is strong, fair and just, but if he were, then his hands, hair, face or penis size should not matter to us, and so they should not matter to us if we think he is unjust and dangerous either (recall my point about Hitler's silly moustache).

If we believe that there is any value at all in avoiding prejudice and discrimination, we should shun these attacks on Trump's appearance: if he were a woman, non-white, disabled or from another minority group, we would (maybe, I think) not tolerate criticisms of his appearance. Trump himself may make fun of people for things which are not their fault, but we (rightly) find this abhorrent; let us not sink to his level by making fun of his hair, hands, face and so on. This would make us little more than hypocrites. So let us focus on the real reasons we should find Trump objectionable: his sexist, racist, disabilist, transphobic, and generally bigoted behaviour - not the size of his hands or his silly hairstyle.

Phd funding

I am intending to begin my PhD in five months time. In December I applied for funding from Midlands 3 Cities. The odds are approximately that around 1 in 10 applicants for funding are successful. I was hopeful but not expectant; I have in the course of my lifetime become something of an expert at coming fourth; good, but just outside of the medals.

I was told in February that I was through to the final stage of selection - although I don't know what percentage of applicants were also through to the final stage. Last week I received an email, and opened it up... The first line of it read something like "After careful consideration, I can confirm that..." and for half a second there my heart leapt... until I read the second half of the sentence, saying that I hadn't been selected for funding. When I worked in recruitment, I sent many rejection letters to unsuccessful applicants, and none of them ever began with the words "I can confirm". So when I received this email from M3C, I read and reread it just to make sure. And alas, I am sure that it said I've not been selected for funding.

I'm friends with several of the PhD philosophy​ students at UoN, and I only know of one who is self-funded (so I know of around 7 who are funded). Surrounded by such success stories, it would be easy to assume that it's easy to obtain funding, but I have been well aware (and am now even more so) that the unsuccessful applicants for funding simply aren't there. It's not that they don't exist, but that they don't exist on the PhD programme.

It's pretty disheartening to face the sad reality that I'm not one of The Chosen Ones, but I'm trying to remain philosophical (ha! That won't be the last time I make that rather poor joke!) There are other chances for funding, and if those avenues are also unsuccessful, then I can self-fund.

I think.

I hope.

Ok, I don't really know if I can afford to. But I have my heart set on PhD study now, and it will be devastating for me if I can't pursue it.

Airbrushing history: Why we shouldn't edit un-PC programmes from the past

A couple of months ago we learned that millennials find Friends sexist and homophobic; now we hear that Apu in The Simpsons is a racist stereotype. Here I examine whether these accusations are true (or at least partially true), and whether anything should be done about it

The issues for the two programmes are slightly different; Friends ran from 1994 to 2004 (plus about a decade of reruns on E4), whereas The Simpsons first aired in 1989 and is still running. So if it turns out that Friends was sexist and homophobic, there's not a great deal that the writers can do about that now. Whereas if The Simpsons is racist, upcoming episodes can be altered.

So, are the accusations true?

"10 Friends storylines that are problematic for millennials" 

Friends is filled with jokes about Chandler having a "gay quality", Ross's ex wife being/becoming a lesbian, Chandler's embarrassment at his dad being a drag queen, and there are plenty of laughs when the characters have anything approaching a homosexual experience. So I can understand why people seeing it for the first time today could be shocked. It was immensely popular in the 90s and 2000s, but it was a product of its time; these things were funny then, and suitable for a mainstream prime-time audience. But are things really that different today? The shocked millennials tweeting their horror would have us believe we have moved from this mentality, but I'm not convinced that we have. We're kidding ourselves if we think that this stuff isn't still rife. If a man's ex wife turned out to be a lesbian, the man's guy friends would (after the initial heartbreak) quite probably make jokes about it and imply he was less of a man because of it. Similarly, I think many men today would be truly embarrassed to have a father who is a drag queen. One of the Friends episodes singled out by these shocked millennials' tweets was where Ross objects to Rachel getting a (good-looking) male nanny to care for their baby; Ross was very much against the idea; he suggested that the nanny must be gay and said that he didn't want a man looking after his baby. This mentality towards males in childcaring roles is still very commonplace, particularly among men. So I would say that any sexism and homophobia which is shown in Friends is still very much present in our present-day society.

Perhaps I am making lots of unsubstantiated assertions here? I admit I don't have any research to hand which justifies my claims, but I'm pretty sure I'm right. If I am right, then perhaps the problem with Friends as viewed by millennials is not that it depicts views which are no longer commonplace, but rather, that it was a mainstream comedy? After all, there is a wide variety of bigots out there, but that doesn't mean we should be making prime-time comedies about them. This sort of argument has more bite to it (but isn't really touched upon in any of the tweets I have seen). The sexist and homophobic attitudes shown in Friends may still be commonplace, but they are no longer acceptable for a prime time sitcom, particularly where such opinions are expressed by the loveable lead characters.

But it's been 14 years since the show finished  and as I said at the outset, there's not really a great deal that can be done now to improve or erase the homophobia and sexism. If (as the shocked millennials' tweets suggest) the show is riddled with such jokes, then removing them would leave very little story line intact. There'd be nothing left. If (as I suggest) the homophobic jokes account for a small percentage of all the screen time, then the jokes could be removed, leaving Netflix viewers with a PC airbrushed version of the show. But should this really be done? I think not.

There are many shows, books, movies and stand up routines which were products of their time, and are unacceptable to present day sensibilities. Love Thy Neighbour, Mind Your Language, Till Death Do Us Part, and The Black and White Minstrel Show are all shows which were very popular in their time but which, frankly, seem pretty racist to present day audiences. Even Fawlty Towers which was voted best British comedy of all time has the occasional racist slur. But removing all racist or otherwise inappropriate jokes would be not just unnecessary, but wrong. Few TV shows can truly stand the test of time (although racist slurs notwithstanding, I think Fawlty Towers fares pretty well after nearly 50 years), but airbrushing out the bits we don't like is a flawed and problematic way to approach our history. Let shows be judged for what they are: if they are racist, sexist and homophobic (or otherwise bigoted) then what could possibly be gained by deleting or altering the scenes we dislike? George Santayana said "Those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it", and whilst I doubt that millennials would become racist, sexist or homophobic simply in virtue of not having seen such 'jokes' in old sitcoms, there is something to be said for leaving our history intact. We do not (yet) live in an Orwellian society where the past is doctored to fit our current sensibilities; if Friends was sexist and homophobic, then so be it. It can stand as a testament to what was funny in the 1990s. Those of us old enough to have watched Friends when it first aired can take a long hard look at ourselves and whether we have moved with the times, or whether such jokes are still funny. And in watching Friends, the millennials can see us for what we were (and maybe still are); but only if the episodes remain intact.

It's tempting to think that previous generations were bigoted and unenlightened, and that we in present day are the very pinnacle of equality and political correctness, but we (and that includes those tweeting millennials!) are products of our time. In another 20 years, there'll be another generation horrified at what passed for mainstream TV shows in 2018.

I am not suggesting that these sitcoms should be screened on TV so that someone might accidentally happen upon them on a Sunday afternoon, but Netflix and YouTube are different from TV. I'm not a Netflix customer, but I think I'm right in saying that for the most part, people watch what they have specifically searched for. Just as with YouTube, if someone searches for Friends or Love Thy Neighbour, they should be able to see it in its entirety, warts 'n' all. But given that sitcoms (and probably most cultural entertainment or artefacts) are products of their time, then if one does not want to be offended by sexist, racist or homophobic 'jokes', then don't go searching for sitcoms of yesteryear. So although Friends does contain some sexism and homophobia, it should be left as it is on Netflix, even if that means ruffling the feathers of millennials.

But now let's consider The Simpsons. Apu is an Indian character with a heavy accent, numerous children, and who runs a corner shop; he's basically a walking stereotype, and it's not difficult to work out why some may find that racially insensitive or offensive. Previous Simpsons episodes should remain intact, as per the above argument for Friends, but deciding what to do with future episodes is tricky, although the cartoon shows no sign that it intends to change the character of Apu., and the response has been fairly dismissive. One of the issues is that, like many cartoons, each episode of the Simpsons is a standalone story; one could watch the episodes in any order and not realise they were all mixed up, because there are few, if any, continuities between episodes; the characters don't age or change relationships, meaning that if Apu did suddenly change his accent or get a less stereotypical job it might seem odd... but a slight oddness with a change of a character wouldn't be all that detrimental to the programme. There is surely a sweet spot between completely altering the show, and soldiering on with a racist stereotype because that's how it was written 30 years ago. It wouldn't require immense changes to the character to make him less stereotypical, and it could help to ensure that the cartoon continues to be popular among all communities. Because if a show doesn't move with the times, it is terminally ill.

Comic Relief Dilemma: white saviours secure donations

Real life moral dilemmas can be so much more poignant than thought experiments; they force us to consider what is genuinely salient, and, I would say, compel us to re-evaluate our moral codes which work great on paper, but aren't always real-life-friendly.

Comic Relief (and Sport Relief) have recently been criticised for their celebrity appeals for donations to help people in Africa. The Guardian suggests that such appeals "perpetuate Band Aid stereotypes" of "poverty-stricken mothers swarmed by flies, their children's stomachs swollen by hunger". The videos have been likened to poverty tourism as frequently, the celebrities in the appeals are white, rich, and although they do spend time talking to the local people in the videos, a substantial portion of the video appeals involve the celebrity talking to the camera (to us viewers) about the local people, in front of them. It doesn't take a PhD in Ethics to understand why this makes some people uneasy. People have criticised the "white saviour" mentality, and for the way that Comic Relief depicts Africans as one homogeneous, starving continent.

Ed Sheeran with some boys on a
Comic Relief video appeal

The 'white saviour' mentality is understandably objectionable, but it is not clear to me that getting black or other ethnic minority celebrities to do the appeals would be any better, and such video appeals would still seem to be objectionable on the voyeuristic 'poverty tourism' grounds.

I think the more poignant and interesting issue is one that has been raised by MP David Lammy. He has said that Comic Relief has "tattooed images of poverty in Africa to our national psyche" and that it does not depict a true picture of African life. He has said that Sport- and Comic Relief "should be helping to establish the people of Africa as equals to be respected, not as victims to be pitied."

There are millions of people in Africa who are highly educated, live affluent lifestyles in bustling cities, and are not in need of our financial donations. Meanwhile, there are other millions of people in Africa living in abject poverty, suffering with starvation, malnutrition, poor sanitation and disease. There are over 1.2 billion people in total who live in Africa, and it is a diverse continent in terms of climate, culture, wealth, health, and probably any other factor we care to think of. Comic Releif can't show the full extent of Africa, but they could show us a range of people in a range of circumstances. But should they?

An article in The Telegraph suggests that charities may lose money when the celebrity appeals for donations are dropped, and this raises a very interesting dilemma: should Comic Relief depict Africans as victims to be pitied (securing more donations to help people), or should it present a more balanced view which depicts Africans as equals (but in doing so, lose out on millions of pounds in donations)?

I'm suggesting that there is a dichotomy: either depict Africans as victims, or lose donation money. If this is a false dichotomy and there is some middle ground, a third option, or the possibility of depicting them as equals and securing more money in donations, then this dilemma is moot. But I think it is probably a genuine dichotomy: if Africans are depicted as diverse in their wealth and lifestyles, then as the CEO of Comic Relief suggests in the Telegraph article, there is a real danger that donations will lower as a result, and more people will suffer. If Comic Relief showed us videos of wealthy Africans living in comfortable housing and working in managerial jobs, this is truly unlikely to elicit the same knee-jerk generosity as does the image of a child with a distended stomach and flies on his face.

A consequentialist might suggest that although depicting Africans as homogenous in their starvation and poverty isn't the full truth, it brings about greater donations from the West, and this money can be used to help the people who are in the most dire need. But a Kantian or other deontologist might point out that the means doesn't justify the ends; that depicting all Africans as starving is disingenuous at best, and blatant lying at worst. This is what gives the dilemma its distinctive poignancy; it's a real-life consequentialism Vs deontology case study.

Frequently, I find myself in agreement with consequentialism, but I reserve the right to switch allegiances as and when I see fit, and this is one such occasion when I see fit.

Presenting false information in order to secure more donations is intrinsically wrong, regardless of the samaritanism which motivates it. The charity which lies in order to save lives is not doing a good deed at the point of donation, and this means that the money is being taken under false pretences; it could even be drawn out as theft by deception, and that detracts from the noble goal of the charity trying to save lives. People in the West or elsewhere deserve to know the truth, and if that means that they choose not to donate their money, then that is their right. Similarly, Africans have the right not to be depicted as one homogenous and starving continent; presenting this distorted vision is unfair and may serve to contribute to racial discrimination across the world. If, when we think of Africans, the images which spring to mind are those from the Live Aid and Comic Relief videos, then the West may come to see (or continue to see) Africans - and by extension, all black people living in the West - as inferior, or as victims. This cannot be endorsed even on consequentialist grounds, and if we are to move forward as a culturally diverse nation and as a planet, then we need to know the full reality about different ethnic groups, and that cannot happen if we are exclusively fed images of Africans as starving and homogeneous.

However, the dichotomy I mentioned earlier may not be quite as extreme as I implied; it is possible for Comic Relief viewers to be told that this particular group of people are starving or living in poverty, without the implication that all African people fit into this category. Charities such as the NSPCC manage to tug at our heartstrings by showing us that some children have been mistreated and are in need of help without suggesting that all children are in such a situation; Comic Relief ought to be able to do the same thing. Seeing people in need of help needn't come with the message that an entire continent is in the same boat. Will such a message lessen the amount of donations that Comic Relief would otherwise have received? Perhaps, but that may be the price that has to be paid for honesty.

"That's not very ladylike"

Here I argue that we should abandon the term 'ladylike' as a sexist anachronism. My argument rests on the idea that 'ladylike' traits involve submissiveness, ineptitude and vanity, none of which are anything to aspire towards, nor are they traits which belong to all and only women.

The word 'ladylike' conjures up archaic ideas of what a lady should be like. 'Ladylike' traits seem to take two forms:

a) Appearance-related traits such as wearing beautiful dresses; looking immaculate; being thin and pretty with big boobs; wearing lots of makeup

b) Behavioural or personality-related traits such as being coy, submissive, dumb, weak and inept at any traditionally 'male' pursuits

Why, in present day, are these traits considered to be essential or desirable features of being a lady? 'Ladylike' seems reducible to 'bimbo'; this does not seem to be something to aspire towards.

What about women who are described as 'unladylike'? Such women might be butch, scruffy, uncouth, dominant, opinionated, they enjoy 'masculine' activities (whatever they are), or they are - dare I say it - intelligent. As far as I can tell, at least some of these 'unladylike' features are as desirable or more desirable than the 'ladylike' ones; being intelligent and having opinions seem particularly desirable. And yet, when someone says a woman is 'not very ladylike' this is rarely meant as a compliment.  'Ladylike' does not seem to mean 'like a lady', since ladies (qua women) all look different, act different, and think differently from one another, so if 'ladylike' meant 'like a woman' then the term would be so broad so as to be meaningless. It would include being tall, short, fat, thin, brown, white, clever, stupid, beautiful, ugly - all the collective traits of all women - and so 'ladylike' cannot mean 'like a woman'. Rather, 'ladylike' seems to mean what an ideal lady is (supposedly) like, viz. demure, sexy, submissive, inept and brainless. She is beautiful, vacuous and needs big strong man to look after her and to tell her what to do. I simply cannot fathom why these are supposedly the features of an ideal woman, but these do seem to be the features which people are referring to when they say that a woman is ladylike (or features which a woman lacks if she is "not very ladylike").

Recall Always' "Like a Girl" advert. The advert is in all likelihood scripted and choreographed, but it is close enough to reality to be plausible. "You run like a girl" is not a compliment; it is a put-down - it is dismissive to tell a girl she runs like a girl, and real insult to tell a man that he runs like a girl. Thus there is a tension between the idea that a female should be like a female - but that being like a female is not as good as being a male. As a general rule, men are taller, faster and stronger than women, so might my critic object that "run like a girl" just means run slightly slower than a man? Such a claim seems indefensible. "Like a girl" is used to mean that something is being done in a ditsy, brainless, flamboyant and incompetent way; it is not used to mean "brilliant, but just slightly slower than a man". Being 'like a girl' or 'ladylike' is simultaneously an expectation and a failing.

"Just been to the salon dahling, must dash home to get dinner
on the table before His Lordship gets in! Mwah! Mwah!"

Running fast in trainers is not very ladylike, whereas the straight-legged short-strided jog is ladylike - viz. the way in which one has to run if one is wearing high heels and a tight skirt - 'ladylike' clothes. Telling a woman that she "runs like a man" can perhaps be delivered as a compliment ("Wow, you're as good as a man, which is unusual for a woman!") or as a put-down ("You're too butch and manly; you're not very ladylike.") There is the ever-present implication that if you are female, you should be ladylike - but that being ladylike involves some of the most inert and vacuous features a person can possess. 

Buzzfeed ran an article listing 21 signs [that] being ladylike is not your forte. The list includes having messy hair, poor make-up, you can't walk in heels, you're not afraid to say how you feel, you swear, you don't like spa days or shopping, and you think the most important part of eating is the eating. Now I concede that Buzzfeed is not the perfect guide to word usage, but its popularity and ubiquity does give us some sense that the above traits are indeed features of ladylikeness. The implication is that if you are a woman who is not ladylike, this is bad - even though ladylike traits do not seem to be useful or aspirational: in other words, if you are a woman you should know your place and not get ideas above your station. Your function as a woman qua woman is to be eye candy for the lads, and not to have a brain or an opinion.

So it seems that 'ladylike' is used to refer to the way women "ought" to be - the ideal - but that the supposedly ideal (ladylike) woman is someone who should be seen but not heard. A ladylike woman is one who looks immaculate, but has limited assertiveness, independence or intelligence. I submit that this is not in fact the ideal woman, and it is not something which women and girls should aspire towards. 'Ladylike' is little more than a sexist, offensive anachronism, used to keep women in their place, as subordinate to men; being ladylike is both an expectation and a failing of women. As we try to move forwards into an age of sexual equality, terms such as 'ladylike' serve no useful purpose; the only purpose of the term is to subordinate women, and such subordinating terms should not be used in the 21st century.

Weirdest seminar ever

Last week, I got sick with food poisoning (from my own cooking it think. After four days of sickness I went to the chemist and got some anti-nausea tablets. The following day, after 5 days of barely eating, I was starting to feel spaced out and weird, like this was not really reality, nothing matters, I wasn't controlling my own actions, and I couldn't concentrate on what people were saying. It felt like I was in a TV programme, or living in a memory or my own imagination: it didn't seem real.

I remember sitting in my living room looking at my hands and moving them around and thinking I know these are my hands, and they are moving in the ways I'm wanting them to, but it just doesn't feel like I'm the one who's moving them. It feels like someone else is controlling them, and it's just luck that they're doing what I want them to. I found myself looking at my son and thinking I know I love him, but I just don't feel the love. I know it in the same way I know that my colleague loves her kids; I have the objective, propositional knowledge, but I don't feel it myself. 

Feeling this way worried me: what if I hurt him? What if I decided that I just didn't care about anything, because nothing felt real, and went on a killing rampage, like a video game where it just doesn't matter whether you kill the characters are not, because they aren't real. I decided to drive to the walk-in centre to get help: driving felt as if my car was staying still, and the road was moving around me, like a simulator. Even though it didn't feel real, I sort of knew it was real, and I had to be careful not to crash. With hindsight, there is no way I should have been driving, but I hadn't realised that at the time. At the walk-in centre I struggled to articulate why I was there, and why it was urgent. She said there'd be a wait of around 4 hours. Four hours of unreality in a medical centre waiting room with a young child was not appealing. I decided to return home and call my mum for help. She lives a couple of hours away, but came over and looked after my son, while I stared into space and contemplated unreality.

I didn't take any more of the nausea tablets, and the next day I started to feel a bit better, so dragged myself into the seminar at uni (mum drove). It was Epistemology. What better subject to be discussing when you are having doubts about the reality of, um, reality, right? Well, Cartesian scepticism and thought experiments about reality not being real are fine, but living it is a lot less palatable. It was traumatic, actually, and genuinely scary. Why didn't I just stay at home? I don't know. I should have, but my judgment was compromised such that I didn't realise my judgment was compromised. I felt like I was losing myself, and I had to grab on to anything which I objectively knew to be reality (even though it didn't feel real) for fear that if I didn't, then it would genuinely cease to be real. So I went to the seminar in the hope that the professor - let's call him J - would talk to the other 3 students, and I could stare into space and try to absorb some of it and not have to construct sentences. That was my hope. It did not pan out.

I arrived at the room first, and started to unpack my stuff, and it took so much mental effort to work out what I needed to put on the table and what to leave in the bag. J arrived and asked if I was better (I'd emailed the day before that I wasn't well) and I said no, I wasn't better. He said he was unwell too, and it felt like there was a fog in front of him. I said I hoped he and the others would talk and I could just listen; he said he hoped he didn't have to do too much talking either as he was also struggling!

That much I remember clearly, but the rest of the 2 hours was a blur, like yesterday's dream; a drunken evening; a vague memory; a poorly imagined conversation; a half-watched TV programme. No one else showed up to the seminar, so he said it was up to me if I felt I wanted to proceed. I foolishly said I did. The next thing I recall is J talking about the article, while I had my hands over my face, then me crying and saying I couldn't do it as I just didn't know what he was saying. I remember how painfully difficult it was for me to construct a meaningful sentence, to pick the right word, put it in the right place: I think I sounded something like this: "I think the... um... writing... um... writer... author... is wrong that... um... well maybe... sort of... the thing is that... the examples doesn't... they don't really... um..." and I had my hands over my face or my eyes closed for most of the time. He said we didn't need to carry on but I said I thought I'd be ok, and kept insisting we should continue.

I remember the feelings clearly; how it felt like he wasn't really talking to me, like I was just remembering or imagining the conversation as it unfolded in front of me, like watching a video of myself having a conversation I'd forgotten about. It felt like I wasn't really there and my mind wasn't my own; like there was a blocker between me and my own actions and what I said. I remember having to cover up my eyes just to block out my visual perceptions which was so distracting, just so I could listen to what he said.

Anyway, I said I thought I couldn't continue with the seminar - but then changed my mind, and somehow did, although now, my memories of the content of what we talked about is something like this: something about a sweaty American politician... something about jelly babies... something about my sister's spending habits... something about a child waking up at 6am... something about eating someone else's lunch as they always bring too much. I reckon that's the sum total of memories of the content of what we discussed. Not exactly useful stuff. Hopefully my memory will return, or maybe that it's stored in my subconscious.

So it must have been pretty hellish for J, trying to do a seminar with only one student, who is a blithering idiot in a state of temporary psychosis, sitting with her face in her hands for most of the time, all while he was unwell himself. Poor guy! But he performed admirably.

A day later I realised that the tablets I'd got from the chemist were not supposed to be taken alongside another medication which I also take - and now I know why they say don't take them together! My mind is gradually returning to normal now (2 days later), and I'm trying to see the funny side of it all.

So that was the weirdest seminar ever. And I was the source of the weirdness. I'm glad that only J saw me in that state and not the other three in the class. It was a pretty horrible experience to feel that reality isn't really real. Cartesian scepticism will never be the same again.

Going to teach Year 4 philosophy

I’ve just been given the go-ahead by my son’s headteacher to go into the school and teach some philosophy to a year 4 group. I’m offering my services for free, partly for my own gain – to have the enjoyment of stimulating discussion with young minds and introducing them to big ideas – and partly for the gain of the kids / school – so that they can have the opportunity to learn something out of the ordinary, where ‘right answers’ aren’t always easy to come by. The headteacher is going to choose some of the highest achievers to be stretched and challenged by yours truly, so hopefully they'll be enthusiastic and attentive - we shall see!

Hands up if you couldn't be bothered
wearing school uniform today.

I took the headteacher through some possible topics we could cover – ethical, epistemological, metaphysical – and he seemed very enthusiastic. He said he’s willing to give me free rein with regard to topics, so that nothing should be shied away from, which is music to my ears. Religion, gender, reality, existence; it's all up for grabs. He did say that for the first few weeks, steer away from death until we’ve got the kids and parents on board with the whole thing, then by all means I can talk about death. Only then did I realise just how many thought experiments seem to involve death, violence or threats thereof!

Anyway, he asked me to begin with punishment (as a topic for discussion, not as something I inflict on the kids), so it’ll be interesting to see whether I can teach the philosophy of punishment without any reference to murder or capital punishment. I might go with a free will / determinism angle and discuss whether we should punish people before they commit crimes.

Anyway, I’m starting at the start of the summer term, and I’m pretty excited about it. I’ve not taught in nearly a year, and it’ll be great to get back to corrupting inspiring youngsters again.