On Pop Theology Podcast: Episode 36 - Stand-Up Comedy and the Economics of Divinity School w/ John Thornton Jr.

by Ben Howard

This week Ben is joined by his friend, and On Pop Theology contributor, John Thornton Jr. for a conversation about stand-up comedy and the economics of divinity school. We talk about John's experience as a stand-up comedian as well as the reasons why so many stand-ups are atheist. Afterwards, we segue into a conversation about the usefulness of divinity school as well as the economic toll it takes on many who pursue that path of education. I hope you enjoy this interesting and informative discussion of an issue that isn't often encountered.

If you like the show, please rate and review us on iTunes. It's the first step in our secret mission to take over the world.

You can download the podcast by clicking here. Or you can subscribe to the podcast by searching "On Pop Theology" in the iTunes music store.

Also, remember to "Like" On Pop Theology on Facebook and follow us on Twitter @OnPopTheology for all the updates, posts, and links throughout the week.

Finally, if you'd like to stream the podcast, you can do that here: 

Peace,
Ben

If you have any questions, comments, or if you just want to say hi, you can contact us at onpoptheology [at] gmail.com.

You might also like:   

• On Pop Theology Podcast: Episode 35 - Twitter Is Summer Camp For The Internet
• On Pop Theology Podcast: Episode 34 - On Women in Ministry w/ Jen Thweatt-Bates
• On Pop Theology Podcast: Episode 33 - Everyday Insights From Vodka

On Economics and Truth

He calls Goldman Sachs a "vampire squid"

by Ben Howard

Earlier this week I picked up the book Griftopia by Rolling Stone columnist Matt Taibbi. I'm fascinated by the merger of politics and high finance especially in light of the 2008 financial crisis and Taibbi does a great job of laying out a chain of events that lead to this economic collapse as well as pointing out those responsible.

It's the kind of book that's really fun to read if you like being angry and disillusioned for 200 pages, which in the case of this book, I didn't mind. But this isn't about whether or not Griftopia is a good book, this is about truth.

Taibbi's work is filled with all sorts of interesting and provocative explanations for the financial crisis in 2008, alongside explanations for rising oil prices and the real, non-political motivations for health care reform. However, I remain skeptical of many of his findings for two primary reasons.

First, he's connecting the dots in order to paint a predetermined picture. This is entirely reasonable since he is trying to defend his central thesis of Power + Greed = Corruption, but it also sparks a natural skepticism in my mind. 

Second, occasionally Taibbi says things that are factual, but not quite true.

For instance, in a section about healthcare reform Taibbi makes a passing reference to higher rates of infant mortality in the United States than in other developed nations. This is true, but it's also true that doctors in the United States attempt more invasive, high-risk procedures to save at-risk births. Additionally, children who pass away after living for a few days are counted towards the infant mortality rate in the United States while other countries only count children who don't live 24 hours.

His statement is factually true, but the reason it's true has nothing to do with poor health care. In fact, it's true for the opposite reason, the doctors are better at attempting to save babies in distress.

This is a commonly accepted piece of evidence in favor of health care reform, but it isn't quite true. And the fact that it's true(ish) makes me wonder about the bigger connections Taibbi makes throughout his book.

Good try, sir

This situation reminds me of something very familiar. Something that's been a part of my life since the day I was born. It reminds me of sermons.

This is how I relate to sermons. It doesn't matter if the message in question is good or bad, if it's delivered well or poorly. It doesn't even matter if I agree with the point being made; a healthy dose of skepticism is always present. In fact, I'm skeptical for the same reasons I'm skeptical of Taibbi's conclusions (even though I want to agree with him).

Not only are sermons by their very function geared towards reinforcing faith that forms their basic foundation, they're also full of those little illustrations and bits of information that sound good, but aren't quite true.

It's the preacher who uses Greek, but the translation isn't quite accurate; or quotes someone famous, except that person didn't say that line; or tells a well-known story, except that it's apocryphal.

These aren't lies. This isn't about lying at all. It's about those times when the truth is fuzzy, or when things said as facts turn out to be wrong.

One of the most influential economic studies of recent years was written by two economists Carmen Reinhart and Kenneth Rogoff. Their study argues that a country begins to experience a severe slowing in economic growth when it's debt to GDP ratio exceeds 90%, a number that the United States is slightly above. The study has been used by countries the world over, as well as by Congressional leaders in the U.S. and it's one of the studies behind the big push to get the national debt under control.

The only problem? It's wrong.

Two weeks ago, it was announced that a 28-year old graduate student named Thomas Herndon, while trying to recreate the study for a class project, had stumbled upon a simple error in the Excel spreadsheet of the two economists which rendered their findings incorrect.

Thomas Herndon, champ.

Math is hard.

I'm fascinated by this idea of fuzzy truth, of truths hidden away by perfectly reasonable and believable fictions. So what happens when we find out that something we believed to be true is wrong? Not a lie, not a fabrication, no ill intent, just mistaken.

How do we define truth in the midst of skepticism? Should I believe Taibbi's conclusions are correct even if a few of his facts aren't? Should I believe the preacher's sermon even when he says something I know isn't accurate? What about the about the scientist or the economist with cold, hard facts?

How can we tell what's true and what's true...ish?

Peace,
Ben

Ben Howard is an accidental iconoclast and generally curious individual living in Nashville, Tennessee. He is also the editor-in-chief of On Pop Theology and an avid fan of waving at strangers for no reason. You can follow him on Twitter @BenHoward87. 

You can follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology.

You might also like:

• On Being Enlightened
• Rule Number 1: Your Faith Lies
• On Predicting the Future

What Oppression Looks Like

This is what oppression looks like.

by Ben Howard

About a week ago I found myself listening to an economics podcast on my way home from work. That is a very nerdy sentence, but the relative nerdiness of my iPod isn’t the point of this story. The guest on the show was a sociologist from the University of Washington who studies the prison population.

I’ve heard a lot about the racial and socioeconomic injustices of our ironically named justice system, but I’ve rarely put numbers to the scale of the problem. But as I listened, I learned that on any given day, 1% of the United States population, that’s around 3 million people, is in prison or jail. Even more, 3%, nearly 9 million people, are under court supervision. And here’s the kicker, the numbers show that a black male between the ages of 18 and 25 is more likely to be imprisoned than employed.

This is what oppression looks like.

Of course, this information made me indignant.  What a crisis!  Why is no one talking about this?  Wait, why am I not talking about this?  What would I even do to make this situation better?  Am I not just as likely to demonize and misjudge someone for being a “criminal?”  Where do I get off being the champion for conceptual oppression when I can’t overcome the oppression I perpetrate?

“I love mankind”, he said, “but I find to my amazement that the more I love mankind as a whole, the less I love man in particular.”

Until my senior year of college, I was planning to be a lawyer. I took the LSAT and looked at admissions, and even started a few applications. I don’t really tell people the next part, and I’m certain I’ve never said it in public, but I remember the exact moment that I realized I could never be a lawyer.

I was in my Constitutional Law class and somehow we got onto the topic of statutory rape. As the conversation continued, I became more and more frustrated with the legality of these laws. It didn’t matter if the minor in question lied, had a fake ID, or even signed something saying they were 18 thus committing fraud, the liability always fell on the person who was over 18. The rights of the accused did not matter. It felt wrong.

Let me be clear, I’m not condoning the acts or the life choices that lead to a situation where an adult is (even unwittingly) involved with a minor, but that doesn’t make the process anymore just.

Amen.

The more I’ve explored the situation, the more I’ve discovered that registered sex offenders are a highly marginalized group of people. Many places have basically made it illegal for a registered sex offender to live in their community. We brand and stigmatize these people for an act, that while certainly heinous in nature and worthy of punishment, is not the definition of their humanity.

But this situation undoes me in just the same way as that of prisoners.  I see the concept of oppression and the symbolic nature of the group in question, but on an individual basis it’s something different entirely. Sex offenders make me sick, they make me nervous. I instinctually want to distance myself from them and keep a close eye on my loved ones. I expect the worst.

This is what oppression looks like.

“I love mankind”, he said, “but I find to my amazement that the more I love mankind as a whole, the less I love man in particular.”

There is no place for this oppression in the kingdom of God. I say that unequivocally and I will repeat it. There is no place for this oppression in the kingdom of God, in the kingdom of redemption and resurrection and renewal.

I honestly don’t know what to do about the cases I’ve mentioned above. I don’t know how to untangle the oppressive nature of societal institutions from their pragmatic necessity. I’m open to suggestions. If you know anyone involved with these communities, leave a comment, get in touch with me, I want to know them.

I want to learn from them.

But in the mean time, I’ll keep trying to grow. I’ll keep trying to become a person who sees both the redeemed person who someone can become as well as the broken person they are. I’ll keep trying to be better, to be more loving. I’ll keep trying to love man in particular, instead of the easy love of all mankind.

“Remember particularly that you cannot be a judge of anyone. For no one can judge a criminal until he recognizes that he is just such a criminal as the man standing before him, and that he perhaps is more than all men to blame for that crime. When he understands that, he will be able to be a judge.”

Peace,

Ben

You can follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology. 

Contact us at onpoptheology [at] gmail.com.