National Guard readiness eroded by Iraq: report on Yahoo! News

Reuters

By Vicki Allen

U.S. National Guard units are under-equipped and increasingly unready to help in domestic disaster relief because essential gear is left behind after service in Iraq and Afghanistan, a congressional report said on Thursday.

Heavy demands on the Guard since September 11, 2001, have caused “declining readiness, weakening the Army National Guard’s preparedness for future missions,” the Government Accountability Office said.

It said the Pentagon’s strategy for the Guard was “unsustainable and needs to be reassessed,”

The report said Guard officials believed the response by its units to Hurricane Katrina last month “was more complicated because significant quantities of critical equipment, such as satellite communications equipment, radios, trucks, helicopters and night vision goggles, were deployed to Iraq.”

Guard troops and other relief workers complained that they did not have the equipment to communicate properly for days after Katrina swept ashore, destroying phone and radio links.

The Bush administration has dismissed concerns expressed in Congress that foreign deployments had hampered the military’s ability to respond to domestic disasters. “We’ve got plenty of troops to do both,” President George W. Bush said last month.

The report said the Army National Guard estimated its units had left for follow-on troops overseas in Iraq and elsewhere more than 64,000 items valued at more than $1.2 billion.

STRAINED RESOURCES

The report said the Guard could not account for more than half of those items and had no plans to replace them as Pentagon policy required.

That left non-deployed Guard units with only about one-third of the equipment they needed for overseas missions, “which hampers their ability to plan for future missions and conduct domestic operations,” the report said.

The Army National Guard was formed as a part-time force, with its members living civilian lives while doing periodic military training. But the Pentagon has relied heavily on these troops in combat roles in Iraq.

The Pentagon says 78,000 of the roughly 440,000 National Guard troops nationwide are deployed overseas, including many from the states hardest hit by Katrina.

The extensive use of Guard equipment overseas has “significantly reduced the amount of equipment available to state governors for domestic needs,” the report said.

Rep. Tom Davis, a Virginia Republican who chairs the House of Representatives Government Reform Committee, said Hurricane Katrina showed that “the National Guard is our nation’s first military responder, and I find it unfathomable that they are approaching equipment bankruptcy.”

While the GAO said the Pentagon was taking steps to improve the Guard’s equipment readiness and balance its roles in domestic and overseas operations, it had not yet put money for that in its budget.

Lady of the Canyon

Sunday October 16, 2005 – The Observer

When Joni Mitchell arrived in Los Angeles from Canada in 1968, she landed in exactly the right place at exactly the right time. In an exclusive extract from his new book, Barney Hoskyns tells how the hipsters who all hung out together in Laurel Canyon fell both for Mitchell and her music – and turned Sixties rock on its head

Joni Mitchell was a stranger in a strange land – twice removed from her native Canada, new to California from America’s East Coast. She was strange-looking, too, willowy but hip, a Scandinavian squaw with flaxen hair and big teeth and Cubist cheekbones. Men instinctively knew Joni as a peer. They also sensed a prickliness and a perfectionism.

In tow with Mitchell was Elliot Roberts, nÈe Rabinowitz, a rock’n’roll Woody Allen with a hooked nose and an endearing devotion to his single cause – Joni Mitchell. ‘Elliot pitched being my manager,’ she recalled of him. ‘I said, “I don’t need a manager, I’m doing quite nicely”. But he was a funny man. I enjoyed his humour.’

This odd couple had come out to Los Angeles from New York, where the Greenwich Village folk scene was petering out before their very eyes. Roberts, an agent for the Chartoff-Winkler management company, had previously worked in the mailroom of the William Morris talent agency with the even more ambitious David Geffen. Elliot decided to jack in the world of agenting after Buffy Sainte-Marie, a client, dragged him to see Joni perform in late October 1967.

Joni had already crammed a lot into her short life. She’d been married to a fellow Canadian singer, Chuck Mitchell, and given up a daughter for adoption – an abandonment that ate at her like a wound. Songwriting served as therapy for her pain. ‘It was almost like she wanted to erase herself and just let the songs speak for her,’ reflected her novelist friend Malka Marom. Joni’s unusual open guitar tunings also set her songs apart from the folk balladry of the day. ‘I was really a folk singer up until 1965, but once I crossed the border I began to write,’ Mitchell says. ‘My songs began to be, like, playlets or soliloquies. My voice even changed – I no longer was imitative of the folk style, really. I was just a girl with a guitar that made it look that way.’

‘Elliot became wildly excited about Joni, and he introduced me to her and I became her agent,’ recalled David Geffen. ‘And it was the beginning of her career – it was the beginning of our careers. Everything was very small time.’ Established stars queued up to cover songs from the Mitchell songbook. ‘When she first came out,’ said Roberts, ‘she had a backlog of 20, 25 songs that most people would dream that they would do in their entire career … it was stunning.’

In America and in England, people sat up and noticed the blonde with the piercing prairie soprano, the idiosyncratic guitar tunings, and the wise-beyond-her-years lyrics. When Roberts and Mitchell went to Florida to play the folk circuit, guitarist and singer David Crosby came to see her at the Gaslight South. ‘Right away I thought I’d been hit by a hand grenade,’ he reported later. There was something about the way Mitchell combined naked purity with artful sophistication that shocked Crosby – the sense of a young woman who had seen too much too soon. He set Joni in his sights, bedding her that week. The affair was never likely to last.

‘These were two very wilful people,’ says photographer Joel Bernstein. ‘Neither was going to cave in. I remember being at Joni’s old apartment in Chelsea in New York and I heard this commotion on the street. And it was Crosby and Joni screaming at each other on the corner. It gave me a real sense of the volatility of their relationship.’

The volatility did not obscure David’s deep admiration for Joni’s talent, nor his awareness of the obstacles she and Elliot were encountering. ‘Everything about Joni was unique and original, but we couldn’t get a deal,’ says Roberts, who took tapes to Columbia, RCA and other majors. ‘The folk period had died, so she was totally against the grain. Everyone wanted a copy of the tape for, like, their wives, but no one would sign her.’

Roberts arrived in Los Angeles in late 1967, knowing few people in the city but using Crosby’s endorsement as a calling card. Joni followed close behind. Immediately she was received with open arms. Epitomising the hospitality was B Mitchel Reed, the disc jockey whose KPPC-FM radio show was the pipeline of all cool sounds in LA. Reed put Roberts and Mitchell up in his rented house above the Sunset Strip on Sunset Plaza Drive.

Joni wasn’t sure about Los Angeles. She was used to crowded sidewalks, teeming urban life – the bustle and commotion of Toronto and Manhattan. She didn’t like it that people went everywhere in their big gas-guzzling cars. But once she and Elliot got into Laurel Canyon, up among the cypresses and eucalyptus trees that lined the bumpy, snaking roads, she started to see the City of the Angels as the ‘new golden land’ that had seduced so many outsiders: the land of David Hockney’s painting A Bigger Splash, of exotic palms and dry desert air and the omnipresent vault of blue sky.

‘Driving around up in the canyons there were no sidewalks and no regimented lines like the way I was used to cities being laid out,’ Mitchell recalls. ‘And then, having lived in New York, there was the ruralness of it, with trees in the yard and ducks floating around on my neighbours’ pond. And the friendliness of it: no one locked their doors.’ As for Elliot Roberts, he’d grown up in the Bronx: how bad could this paved paradise be?

‘Elliot would sleep on my couch at 8333 Lookout Mountain,’ says manager Ron Stone, then owner of a boutique in West Hollywood. ‘At the same time, Crosby had been tossed out of the Byrds and was mooching off me. We’d smoke a joint and play chess. He was my entrÈe to all of this.’

When Roberts officially left Chartoff-Winkler he asked Ron Stone to work for him. To Stone it looked more exciting than selling used leather jackets to the socialites of Beverly Hills. ‘Right away it was like Elliot and Ron could take a New York entrepreneurial viewpoint on the whole thing,’ says Joel Bernstein, who would soon be taking photographs of Joni. ‘I think it was really eye-opening to these guys that you could come out here and live up in Laurel Canyon in little wooden houses where you didn’t even need heating or air-conditioning… and you could still do business.’ With Stone as his new aide-de-camp, Roberts trotted off to Reprise Records.

A Mitchell demo session was green-lighted on condition that David Crosby produce it. ‘David was very enthusiastic about the music,’ Joni says. ‘He was twinkly about it. His instincts were correct: he was going to protect the music and pretend to produce me.’

The sessions that eventually became Joni Mitchell could not have been more auspicious. Recording at Sunset Sound, Mitchell and Crosby kept things stripped and simple: in the main just Joni, her guitar, and such well-worked songs as ‘Marcie’ and ‘I Had a King’. The two had now officially split up. ‘They each described to me crying at the other through the glass in the studio,’ says Bernstein. Sitting in on occasional guitar and bass was Stephen Stills, who was across the hall with his group Buffalo Springfield. His bandmate, the dark and brooding Neil Young, was known to Mitchell from her apprenticeship on the Canadian folk circuit. Sharing a uniquely dry Canuck humour, Young and Mitchell had an easy rapport. ‘You gotta meet Neil,’ she told Elliot. ‘He’s the only guy who’s funnier than you are.’

Roberts wandered down the hall to meet Joni’s compatriate. Stories about Young’s moodiness made him wary, but Elliot was pleasantly surprised when the singer turned out to be approachable and affable. Joni and Neil compared notes on their respective musical journeys. If Joni’s tastes didn’t stretch to the febrile rock the Springfield played, she could sense the electricity in the air – the vibrancy of the scene and the exploding of talent on and off the Sunset Strip.

Mitchell divided her debut album into two loosely autobiographical sections – a conceit easier to bring off in the days of vinyl LPs. The first side (‘I Came To the City’) commenced with ‘I Had a King’, a song detailing – with more than a trace of self-protective bitterness – the break-up of Joni’s marriage. Part Two (‘Out of the City and Down To the Seaside’) found our heroine in the country, by the sea, settled in rustic southern California. ‘Song to a Seagull’ summarised the theme of the album, with Joni recapping on her urban adventures and subsequent departure for the sea. The song played perfectly on the image of Mitchell as a kind of a fairy maiden striving to float free of human need. The final song, ‘Cactus Tree’, pointed forward to deeper themes in the singer’s subsequent work: themes of romantic love, of female autonomy, of commitment versus creative freedom. Describing three lovers – the first almost certainly Crosby – Joni ‘thinks she loves them all’ but fears giving herself completely to any of them. These were important issues for young, liberated women in the 1960s, rejecting a society where women had tended to live somewhat vicariously as caretakers to men. A self-proclaimed ‘serial monogamist’, Mitchell would struggle for years with the conflicts between her desire for love and her need for independence.

Although the album now sounds earnest and worthy, the power of Joni’s swooping, pellucid vibrato and idiosyncratic, questioning chords is right there. ‘Joni invented everything about her music, including how to tune the guitar,’ said James Taylor, one of her many later boyfriends. ‘From the beginning of the process of writing she’s building the canvas as well as putting paint on it.’

In March, with the album about to be released, Crosby presented his protÈgÈe to his peers. His favourite gambit was to host impromptu acoustic performances by Joni, usually at the Laurel Canyon homes of his friends. ‘David says, “I want you to meet somebody”,’ recalls screenwriter Carl Gottlieb. ‘And he goes upstairs and comes back down with this ethereal blonde. And this is the first time that everybody heard ‘Michael from Mountains’ and ‘Both Sides Now’ and ‘Chelsea Morning’. And then she goes back upstairs, and we all sit around and look at each other and say, “What was that? Did we hallucinate it?”‘

Eric Clapton sat spellbound on the lawn of Laurel Canyon neighbour ‘Mama’ Cass Elliot as Joni cooed ‘Urge For Going’, a song inspired by the death of the folk movement. Crosby was at her side, a joint in his mouth and a Cheshire-cat smile of satisfaction on his face. ‘Cass had organised a little backyard barbecue,’ says photographer Henry Diltz. ‘Because she’d met Cream she invited Clapton, who was very quiet and almost painfully shy. And Joni was there and doing her famous tunings, and Eric sat and stared at her hands to try and figure out what she was doing.’

The following day Joni performed on Reed’s KPPC show in Pasadena and answered questions that whetted LA’s appetite for the new neo-folk star. So much did Reed talk her up that her first live dates in town were all sell-outs at the Troubadour.

‘Like Neil, Joni was quiet,’ says Diltz, who photographed her soon after her move to LA. ‘A lot of these people were quiet, which was why they became songwriters. It was the only way they could express themselves. It was very different from the Tin Pan Alley tradition, where guys would try to write a hit song and turn out these teen-romance songs about other people.’

Joni found a perfect place of retreat in Laurel Canyon. In April 1968, with money from her modest Reprise advance, she made a down-payment on a quaint cottage built into the side of the hill on Lookout Mountain Avenue. Soon she had filled it with antiques and carvings and stained Tiffany windows – not to mention a nine-year-old tomcat named Hunter. Within a year her songs were setting the pace for the new introspection of the singer-songwriter school.

On 5 July, 1968, Robert Shelton wrote a New York Times piece about Mitchell entitled ‘Singer-Songwriters are Making a Comeback’. In it he noted that, while the return of solo acoustic performers had at least something to do with economics, ‘the high-frequency rock’n’roar may have reached its zenith.’ Nine months later, folk singer and Sing Out! editor Happy Traum came to a similar conclusion in Rolling Stone. ‘As if an aural backlash to psychedelic acid rock and to the all-hell-has-broken-loose styles of Aretha Franklin and Janis Joplin,’ Traum wrote, ‘the music is gentle, sensitive, and graceful. Nowadays it’s the personal and the poetic, rather than a message, that dominates.’

It was time to turn inwards, and Joni Mitchell was leading the way.

California connections

Joni Mitchell
Now semi-retired after falling bitterly out of love with the music business.

Elliot Roberts
Manager. Still with Neil Young, and has managed Spiritualized.

David Geffen
Mogul. Launched Asylum in 1971 and became the Croesus of LA rock. In talks to sell his DreamWorks empire.

David Crosby, Stephen Stills and Graham Nash
Rock’n’roll survivors. All wrote about their relationship with Joni. Crosby survived cocaine abuse, guns, jail and a liver transplant; Stills has just made his best album in years; Nash was named Amateur Photographer of the Year in 2003.

Neil Young
Rock’n’roll enigma. The greatest male singer-songwriter of the Seventies still treads his own wayward path.

Frank Zappa
Freak-out supremo Once threw Mick Jagger out of his Laurel Canyon home for being drunk. Died from cancer in 1993.

James Taylor
Singer. Joni and James were on each other’s records all the time in the Seventies. Taylor still records and tours.

Cass Elliot
Singer. Introduced Nash to the Canyon scene at Joni’s house. Died in 1974.

? ‘Hotel California: Singer-Songwriters and Cocaine Cowboys in the LA Canyons 1967-1976’ is published by Fourth Estate on 7 November, priced £14.99. To order a copy for the special price of £13.99, call the Observer Books Service on 0870 836 0885

Modern human, stuck with an ancient brain.

The Sunday Times October 02, 2005

Are we wired up to be cheerful, or are some of us destined to languish in abject misery?
Dorothy Wade reports on the new science of feeling good

Behind the neoclassical facade of the Royal Institution, in London’s Mayfair, the latest in a 200-year series of lectures was taking place in a hushed amphitheatre this summer. Standing on the shoulders of scientific giants such as Faraday and Dewar were three academics debating “Happiness, the science behind your smile”.

Purists might imagine the founding geniuses of the Royal Institution turning in their graves. What does science have to tell us about such a frivolous subject? And how do you define happiness, let alone study it? But happiness has finally burst out of the academic closet. Several weighty volumes on the subject have been published this year. And on the same night as the RI event, the economist Lord Layard and the psychiatrist Dr Raj Persaud were debating the Politics of Happiness at the London School of Economics just a mile away.

Perversely, happiness has a negative image in our culture. Influenced by a sceptical European philosophical outlook, we think of happiness as a trivial pursuit for the Oprah generation, a Shangri-La perpetuated by self-help gurus. Isn’t it selfish to try to increase our happiness, while much of the world faces suffering and premature death?

Great writers from Freud ‚Äî “the intention that man should be happy is not included in the plan of Creation” ‚Äî to Philip Larkin ‚Äî “man hands on misery to man” ‚Äî have painted happiness as an elusive butterfly. But ordinary people believe they are happier than average (an obvious impossibility) and that they’ll be even happier in 10 years’ time. If true, it would be good news because research shows that happier people are healthier, more successful, harder-working, caring and more socially engaged. Misery makes people self-obsessed and inactive.

These are the conclusions of a burgeoning happiness industry that has published 3,000 papers, set up a Journal of Happiness Studies and created a World Database of Happiness in the last few years.

Can scientists tell us what happiness is?

Economists accept that if people describe themselves as happy, then they are happy. However, psychologists differentiate between levels of happiness. The most immediate type involves a feeling; pleasure or joy. But sometimes happiness is a judgment that life is satisfying, and does not imply an emotional state.

Public surveys measure what makes us happy. Marriage does, pets do, but children don’t seem to (despite what we think). Youth and old age are the happiest times. Money does not add much to happiness; in Britain, incomes have trebled since 1950, but happiness has not increased at all. The happiness of lottery winners returns to former levels within a year. People disabled in an accident are likely to become almost as happy again. For happiness levels are probably genetic: identical twins are usually equally bubbly or grumpy.

One thing makes a striking difference. When two American psychologists studied hundreds of students and focused on the top 10% “very happy” people, they found they spent the least time alone and the most time socialising.Psychologists know that increasing the number of social contacts a miserable person has is the best way of cheering them up. When Jean-Paul Sartre wrote “hell is other people”, the arch-pessimist of existentialist angst was wrong.

America has pursued the chimera of happiness vigorously, not least through the insatiable consumption of self-help literature such as Climb Your Stairway to Heaven: 9 Tips for Daily Happiness! So it is no surprise that it’s an American who is making happiness a subject of scientific study. At first glance, Martin Seligman’s bestselling book Authentic Happiness, with its sunshine-yellow title on a sky-blue cover, blends with other manuals on the pop-psychology shelves. But America’s latest guru of feeling good is not a stage hypnotist, an evangelical preacher or even a business visionary. Seligman is an eminent professor of psychology with a string of degrees. One of the chief architects of the prevailing model of depression, his work has helped to found modern “cognitive” therapies.

The man who’s trying to do for happiness what Newton did for gravity has found it a scarce commodity in life. Seligman describes himself as a “walking nimbus cloud” who spent 50 years “enduring mostly wet weather in my soul”. Feeling out of place as a chubby 13-year-old Jewish kid at a wealthy college, he hit on the role of therapist as a route to the hearts of unattainable girls. “What a brilliant stroke! I’ll bet no other guy ever listened to them ruminate about their insecurities, nightmares and bleakest fantasies.”

As a psychology graduate working in animal- behaviour labs, Seligman discovered “learned helplessness” and became a big name. Dogs who experience electric shocks that they cannot avoid by their actions simply give up trying. They will passively endure later shocks that they could easily escape. Seligman went on to apply this to humans, with “learned helplessness” as a model for depression. People who feel battered by unsolvable problems learn to be helpless; they become passive, slower to learn, anxious and sad. This idea revolutionised behavioural psychology and therapy by suggesting the need to challenge depressed people’s beliefs and thought patterns, not just their behaviour.

Now Seligman is famous again, this time for creating the field of positive psychology. In 1997 the professor was seeking a theme for his presidency of the American Psychological Association. The idea came while gardening with his daughter Nikki. She was throwing weeds around and he was shouting. She reminded him that she used to be a whiner but had stopped on her fifth birthday. “And if I can stop whining, you can stop being a grouch.”

Seligman describes this as an “epiphany”. He vowed to change his own outlook, but more importantly recognised a strength ‚Äî social intelligence ‚Äî in his daughter that could be nurtured to help her withstand the vicissitudes of life. Looking back on “learned helplessness”, he reflected that one in three subjects ‚Äî rats, dogs or people ‚Äî never became “helpless”, no matter how many shocks or problems beset them.

“What is it about some people that imparts buffering strength, making them invulnerable to helplessness?” Seligman asked himself ‚Äî and now he’s made it his mission to find out.

Since its origins in a Leipzig laboratory 130 years ago, psychology has had little to say about goodness and contentment. Mostly psychologists have concerned themselves with weakness and misery. There are libraries full of theories about why we get sad, worried, and angry. It hasn’t been respectable science to study what happens when lives go well. Positive experiences, such as joy, kindness, altruism and heroism, have mainly been ignored. For every 100 psychology papers dealing with anxiety or depression, only one concerns a positive trait.

A few pioneers in experimental psychology bucked the trend. Professor Alice Isen of Cornell University and colleagues have demonstrated how positive emotions make people think faster and more creatively. Showing how easy it is to give people an intellectual boost, Isen divided doctors making a tricky diagnosis into three groups: one received candy, one read humanistic statements about medicine, one was a control group. The doctors who had candy displayed the most creative thinking and worked more efficiently.

Inspired by Isen and others, Seligman got stuck in. He wanted to revolutionise psychology, but his weapon would be tough science. Clinical psychology was the science of how to get from minus five to zero. This would be the science of getting from zero to plus five. Seligman wanted experiments, he wanted statistics, he wanted proof.

He raised millions of dollars of research money and funded 50 research groups involving 150 scientists across the world. Four positive psychology centres opened, decorated in cheerful colours and furnished with sofas and baby-sitters. There were get-togethers on Mexican beaches where psychologists would snorkel and eat fajitas, then form “pods” to discuss subjects such as wonder and awe. A thousand therapists were coached in the new science.

Their holy grail is the classification of strengths and virtues. After a solemn consultation of great works such as the samurai code, the Bhagavad-Gita and the writings of Confucius, Aristotle and Aquinas, Seligman’s happiness scouts discovered six core virtues recognised in all cultures: wisdom, courage, humanity, justice, temperance and transcendence. They have subdivided these into 24 strengths, including humour and honesty.

But critics are demanding answers to big questions. What is the point of defining levels of happiness and classifying the virtues? Aren’t these concepts vague and impossible to pin down? Can you justify spending funds to research positive states when there are problems such as famine, flood and epidemic depression to be solved?

Seligman knows his work can be belittled alongside trite notions such as “the power of positive thinking”. His plan to stop the new science floating “on the waves of self- improvement fashions” is to make sure it is anchored to positive philosophy above, and to positive biology below. And this takes us back to our evolutionary past.

Homo sapiens evolved during the Pleistocene era (1.8 m to 10,000 years ago), a time of hardship and turmoil. It was the Ice Age, and our ancestors endured long freezes as glaciers formed, then ferocious floods as the ice masses melted. We shared the planet with terrifying creatures such as mammoths, elephant-sized ground sloths and sabre-toothed cats.

But by the end of the Pleistocene, all these animals were extinct. Humans, on the other hand, had evolved large brains and used their intelligence to make fire and sophisticated tools, to develop talk and social rituals.

Survival in a time of adversity forged our brains into a persistent mould. Professor Seligman says: “Because our brain evolved during a time of ice, flood and famine, we have a catastrophic brain. The way the brain works is looking for what’s wrong. The problem is, that worked in the Pleistocene era. It favoured you, but it doesn’t work in the modern world.”

Although most people rate themselves as happy, there is a wealth of evidence to show that negative thinking is deeply ingrained in the human psyche. Experiments show that we remember failures more vividly than successes. We dwell on what went badly, not what went well. When life runs smoothly, we’re on autopilot ‚Äî we’re only in a state of true consciousness when we notice the stone in our shoe.

Of the six universal emotions, four ‚Äî anger, fear, disgust and sadness ‚Äî are negative and only one, joy, is positive. (The sixth, surprise, is neutral.) According to the psychologist Daniel Nettle, author of Happiness, and one of the Royal Institution lecturers, the negative emotions each tell us “something bad has happened” and suggest a different course of action. Fear tells us danger is near, so run away. Anger prompts us to deter aggressors. Sadness warns us to be cautious and save energy, while disgust urges us to avoid contamination.

Joy, according to Nettle, simply tells us, “something good has happened, don’t change anything”. The evolutionary role of pleasure was to encourage activity that was good for survival, such as eating and having sex. But unlike negative emotions, which are often persistent, joy tends to be short-lived. We soon get sick of cream cakes or blas?© about our pay rise.

What is it about the structure of the brain that underlies our bias towards negative thinking? And is there a biology of joy? At Iowa University, neuroscientists studied what happens when people are shown pleasant and unpleasant pictures. When subjects see landscapes or dolphins playing, part of the frontal lobe of the brain becomes active. But when they are shown unpleasant images — a bird covered in oil, or a dead soldier with part of his face missing — the response comes from more primitive parts of the brain.

The ability to feel negative emotions derives from an ancient danger-recognition system formed early in the brain’s evolution. The pre-frontal cortex, which registers happiness, is the part used for higher thinking, an area that evolved later in human history.

Professor Richard Davidson at the University of Wisconsin has scanned brains in different emotional states. When he wired up a Buddhist monk entering a state of bliss through meditation, he found electrical activity shooting up the frontal lobe of the monk’s brain on the left side. Observing toddlers at play, he picked some who were exuberant and uninhibited, behaviour linked to higher levels of positive emotion, and others who were quiet and shy. Tested later, the inhibited toddlers showed greater activity on the brain’s right side; activation of the lively toddlers’ brains was on the left. Happiness and sadness are lopsided.

Modern humans, stuck with an ancient brain, are like rats on a wheel. We can’t stop running, because we’re always looking over our shoulders and comparing our achievements with our neighbours’. At 20, we think we’d be happy with a house and a car. But if we get them, we start dreaming of a second home in Italy and a turbo-charged four-wheel-drive.

This is called the “hedonic treadmill” by happiness scholars. It causes us to rapidly and inevitably adapt to good things by taking them for granted. The more possessions and accomplishments we have, the more we need to boost our level of happiness. It makes sense that the brain of a species that has dominated others would evolve to strive to be best.

Our difficulty, according to Daniel Nettle, is that the brain systems for liking and wanting are separate. Wanting involves two ancient regions ‚Äî the amygdala and the nucleus accumbens ‚Äî that communicate using the chemical dopamine to form the brain’s reward system. They are involved in anticipating the pleasure of eating and in addiction to drugs. A rat will press a bar repeatedly, ignoring sexually available partners, to receive electrical stimulation of the “wanting” parts of the brain. But having received brain stimulation, the rat eats more but shows no sign of enjoying the food it craved. In humans, a drug like nicotine produces much craving but little pleasure.

At the Royal Institution, Nettle explained how brain chemistry foils our pursuit of happiness in the modern world: “The things that you desire are not the things that you end up liking. The mechanisms of desire are insatiable. There are things that we really like and tire of less quickly ‚Äî having good friends, the beauty of the natural world, spirituality. But our economic system plays into the psychology of wanting, and the psychology of liking gets drowned out.”

Liking involves different brain chemicals from wanting. Real pleasure is associated with opioids. They are released in the rat brain by sweet tastes. When they are blocked in humans, food tastes less delicious. They also dampen down pain so that pleasure is unadulterated.

Happiness is neither desire nor pleasure alone. It involves a third chemical pathway. Serotonin constantly shifts the balance between negative and positive emotions. It can reduce worry, fear, panic and sleeplessness and increase sociability, co-operation, and happy feelings. Drugs based on serotonin, such as ecstasy, produce a relaxed sense of wellbeing rather than the dopamine pattern of euphoria and craving.

In essence, what the biology lesson tells us is that negative emotions are fundamental to the human condition, and it’s no wonder they are difficult to eradicate. At the same time, by a trick of nature, our brains are designed to crave but never really achieve lasting happiness.

Psychologists such as Seligman are convinced you can train yourself to be happier. His teams are developing new positive interventions (treatments) to counteract the brain’s nagging insistence on seeking out bad news. The treatments work by boosting positive emotion about the past, by teaching people to savour the present, and by increasing the amount of engagement and meaning in their lives.

Since the days of Freud, the emphasis in consulting rooms has been on talk about negative effects of the past and how they damage people in the present. Seligman names this approach “victimology” and says research shows it to be worthless: “It is difficult to find even small effects of childhood events on adult personality, and there is no evidence at all of large effects.”

The tragic legacy of Freud is that many are “unduly embittered about their past, and unduly passive about their future”, says Seligman. His colleague Aaron Beck developed cognitive therapy after becoming disillusioned with his Freudian training in the 1950s. Beck found that as depressed patients talked “cathartically” about past wounds and losses, some people began to unravel. Occasionally this led to suicide attempts, some of which were fatal. There was very little evidence that psychoanalysis worked.

Cognitive therapy places less emphasis on the past. It works by challenging a person’s thinking about the present and setting goals for the future. Another newcomer, brief solution-focused therapy, discourages talk about “problems” and helps clients identify strengths and resources to make positive changes in their lives.

The focus of most psychotherapy is on decreasing negative emotion. The aim of Seligman’s therapy is to increase positive emotion (positive and negative emotions are not polar opposites and can co-exist: women have more of both than men). From the time of Buddha to the self-improvement industry of today, more than 100 “interventions” have been tried in the attempt to build happiness. Forty of these are being tested in randomised placebo-controlled trials by Seligman and his colleagues.

In one internet study, two interventions increased happiness and decreased depressive symptoms for at least six months. One exercise involves writing down three things that went well and why, every day for a week. The other is about identifying your signature strengths and using one of them in a new and different way every day for a week. A third technique involves writing a long letter to someone you’re grateful to but have never properly thanked, and visiting them to read it out in person.

Seligman and his graduate students weep tears of joy when they do this exercise, but most Brits would probably rather be miserable than do it. So it’s a relief to hear that it doesn’t work particularly well. It has strong, but only brief, effects.

Seligman speculates that doing more exercises for longer would bring greater benefits. Hundreds of thousands of people have registered with his website http://www.reflectivehappiness.com — where, for $10 a month, they are given a happiness programme including instruction in a package of positive exercises.

Sylvia Perkins, a 73-year-old retired librarian from south Michigan tried the “Savour a Beautiful Day” task. Her husband died of lung cancer four years ago, and after a recent mild stroke she moved into an assisted living community. “The move has been very difficult for me and I’ve been trying to fight off the feeling that I’ve just come here to die. When I heard about this exercise, I decided to give it a try, because it seemed like a hopeful thing to do.”

She spent her “beautiful” day going through photos and mementoes and making scrapbooks for each of her children. She also wrote them letters about her most precious memories of them and stuck them in the albums. “This exercise helped me feel reconnected to my children. I have felt more hopeful about my situation. I realise that my health prognosis is really quite good and I am confident that I will have many more years to share with my family.”

Positive psychology has a schmaltzy American feel that might not translate well into a British setting. Dr Nick Baylis of Cambridge University is working with colleagues to “tweak” positive psychology for “British ears”. He calls his research the “study of wellbeing” rather than the science of happiness. As a forensic psychologist, he worked with young offenders at Feltham and decided that studying what went wrong in damaged lives was not productive. “I had looked at broken lives. Now I wanted to look at lives that go well.”

He founded the charity Trailblazers to give young offenders positive role models. In his Young Lives research project, he interviewed hundreds of accomplished people from Kate Adie to Jamie Oliver about their strategies for making the most of life. Their advice and ideas can be found in http://www.YoungLivesUK.com and in the book Wonderful Lives.

When Baylis went to Cambridge as Britain’s first lecturer in positive psychology, he was treated as a “neo-Nazi”, he says. The study of happiness was a “taboo subject”. He sent an e-mail to colleagues who might have an interest in wellbeing, and received a reply from only one, Professor Felicia Huppert. She studies the secrets of a happy, productive old age, and theirs is now a fruitful collaboration. The British approach to wellbeing also emphasises good physical health and diet, proper sleep, relaxation and exercise, and spending time in the natural environment.
Given its famously bad health and diet, Glasgow is a city in need of positive medicine. It’s become a live laboratory for the new science. Last month, Professor Seligman paid his second visit to Glasgow’s Centre for Confidence and Wellbeing, to spread the happiness gospel to Scottish teachers, coaches and businessmen as part of the Vanguard programme, backed by the Scottish Executive. The sceptical Scots seem to welcome Seligman’s empirical approach.

Dr Carol Craig, who runs the centre, is passionate about curing Scotland’s epidemic of pessimism and low self-esteem. She points to many indicators of malaise: the Scottish suicide rate is double the English one, and antidepressant prescribing is 40% higher. A new UN report says that Scotland is the most violent country in the developed world. Scottish children are among the least confident anywhere, according to the World Health Organization.

Craig believes that the dark, forbidding nature of Calvinist religion is responsible for the dour Scottish psyche. “We’re a culture that encourages feelings of lack of self-worth. We’re a culture that goes out of its way to make sure people don’t feel good about themselves,” says Craig.

From a young age, Scots are taught humility, modesty and conformity. Scottish humour often pokes fun at those who “get above their station”. Craig speculates that the high rate of emigration from Scotland has denuded the country of optimists and left too many pessimists behind. Could any of this be linked to the fact that men in one part of Glasgow, Shettleston, have a life expectancy of 64? (Scottish men, on average, live to 73.) And that west Scotland is the unhealthiest region in Europe, with high rates of heart disease, cancer and strokes? Has anyone found a causal link between happiness and health?

Nuns may hold the answer. Nuns make a great natural experiment, because they lead the same routine lives with similar diets and activities. None have married or had children. Yet there is huge variation in their health and longevity. In 1932, 180 novices in Milwaukee wrote short sketches of their lives. One wrote: “God started my life off well by bestowing upon me grace of inestimable value. The past year has been a very happy one.” She lived to 98 in wonderful health.

Another wrote a joyless and neutral sketch, ending: “With God’s grace, I intend to do my best for our Order.” She died after a stroke at the age of 59. Researchers who quantified positive feeling in all 180 sketches discovered that nearly all (90%) of the happiest quarter were still alive at 85. But of the least cheerful quarter, only a third survived to that age.

Another piece of the jigsaw fitted this year when a team from University College London tested the happiness levels of 216 middle-aged civil servants in a study of risk factors for coronary heart disease. People who had the most happy moments per day had the lowest rates of cortisol, a hormone that can be harmful if produced excessively, and of the chemical plasma fibrinogen, a predictor of heart disease. The happiest men (but not women) also had the lowest heart rates.

Angela Clow, professor of psychophysiology at Westminster University, is a world authority on the biochemistry of stress. “There is clear evidence that stress makes you susceptible to illness, but I wanted to turn this around and discover how happiness makes you healthier. There’s not a lot of happiness research in the UK, because if you do it, people think you’re trivial,” says Clow.

In one experiment, she and colleagues blindfolded participants and wafted smells of chocolate, water and rotten meat under their noses. Then they measured levels of secretory IgA, an antibody that protects the body against invading cells, in their saliva. Chocolate sent the antibody levels soaring up; rotten meat brought them down. Clow found that pleasant music also boosted the immune system, as did stimulating the left side of the brain with magnetism.

Comparing patients in a day-surgery waiting room with music and art on the walls against one with no music and plain white walls, Clow found that the art and music patients had lower heart-rates, blood pressure and cortisol, and needed less sedation before their surgery.

“But why should happiness have such an effect on the immune system?” asks Clow. She speculates that there is an evolutionary mechanism. Our happiest ancestors were bold creatures who socialised and ventured out to explore. This brought them into contact with infection, so they needed higher levels of antibodies in a stronger immune system.

But repeated stress weakens us. The stress response temporarily increases the level of cortisol, a vital hormone that regulates the whole immune system. This is a healthy response, designed to produce fight or flight only in cases of real danger. Unfortunately, the daily hassles of modern life induce repeated stress in some of us, subjecting our bodies to frequent pulses of cortisol. This unbalances the immune system and makes us ill.

Laughter and humour are also being studied for their effects on health. Research methods include using a tickle machine, and probing with electrodes to find the funny parts of the brain. Laughter, like stress, increases blood pressure and heart rate and changes breathing. But unlike stress, it reduces levels of chemicals circulating in the body. In one study, people’s cortisol and adrenaline were reduced after watching a favourite comedy video for 60 minutes.

It’s difficult to resist the logic of the happiness doctors. Stay in your Eeyore-ish bubble of existentialist angst and have a life that’s short, sickly, friendless and self-obsessed. Or find a way to get happy, and long life, good health, job satisfaction and social success will be yours. You’d better start writing that gratitude letter now.

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN MEN AND WOMEN

Men often complain about their wives’ volatility. Now research confirms that women really are both happier and sadder. Positive and negative emotions are not polar opposites ‚Äî you can have both in your life. Women experience more of all emotions except anger. First it was found that women experience twice as much depression as men. Next, researchers found that women report more positive emotion than men, more frequently and more intensely. It all points to men and women having a different emotional make-up. Cognitive psychologists say that men and women have different skills related to sending and receiving emotion. Women are expressive; men conceal or control their emotions. Women convey emotion through facial expression and communication; men express emotion through aggressive or distracting behaviour. Does the difference lie in biology, social roles or just women’s willingness to report emotion? That’s up for debate.

UNDERGROUND††††††††††††††††††††††††

Based on Dostoyevsky’s most famous novel CRIME AND PUNISHMENT.

The story revolves around Raskolnikov, an impoverished student who commits a gruesome murder and is then forced to come to terms with his crime, himself and the society in which he lives.

UNDERGROUND explores the feverish, oppressive atmosphere and nightmarish quality of Dostoyevsky’s world by creating a highly visual work that will lead you into the labyrinthine basement of an old abattoir in Clerkenwell.

You will have complete freedom to explore corridors, stairwells and basements previously undiscovered by the public. You may follow a character or simply wander through the inter-connecting maze of spaces catching scenes, film-sequences and musical fragments as you go.

UNDERGROUND will take you into an unstable and constantly shifting world, like a hallucinatory dream where scenes, sounds, fragments, chance encounters and film images merge, transform and dissolve.

UNDERGROUND is co-commissioned by BITE:05 Barbican, London; Brighton Festival; Made in Brighton Ltd; South Hill Park Arts Centre, Bracknell.

Presented in Partnership with The Open University.

Underground
10 – 29 October
The Old Abattoir, Clerkenwell

Young Genius / BITE:05

Box office: 0845 120 7554
http://www.barbican.org.uk/bite

"From a marketing point of view, you don't introduce new products in August."

It’s Bush-Cheney, Not Rove-Libby

By Frank Rich The New York Times
Sunday 16 October 2005

There hasn’t been anything like it since Martha Stewart fended off questions about her stock-trading scandal by manically chopping cabbage on Ôø?The Early ShowÔø? on CBS. Last week the setting was Ôø?TodayÔø? on NBC, where the image of President Bush manically hammering nails at a Habitat for Humanity construction site on the Gulf Coast was juggled with the sight of him trying to duck Matt Lauer’s questions about Karl Rove.

As with Ms. Stewart, Mr. Bush’s paroxysm of panic was must-see TV. “The president was a blur of blinks, taps, jiggles, pivots and shifts,” Dana Milbank wrote in The Washington Post. Asked repeatedly about Mr. Rove’s serial appearances before a Washington grand jury, the jittery Mr. Bush, for once bereft of a script, improvised a passable impersonation of Norman Bates being quizzed by the detective in “Psycho.” Like Norman and Ms. Stewart, he stonewalled.

That stonewall may start to crumble in a Washington courtroom this week or next. In a sense it already has. Now, as always, what matters most in this case is not whether Mr. Rove and Lewis Libby engaged in a petty conspiracy to seek revenge on a whistle-blower, Joseph Wilson, by unmasking his wife, Valerie, a covert C.I.A. officer. What makes Patrick Fitzgerald’s investigation compelling, whatever its outcome, is its illumination of a conspiracy that was not at all petty: the one that took us on false premises into a reckless and wasteful war in Iraq. That conspiracy was instigated by Mr. Rove’s boss, George W. Bush, and Mr. Libby’s boss, Dick Cheney.

Mr. Wilson and his wife were trashed to protect that larger plot. Because the personnel in both stories overlap, the bits and pieces we’ve learned about the leak inquiry over the past two years have gradually helped fill in the uber-narrative about the war. Last week was no exception. Deep in a Wall Street Journal account of Judy Miller’s grand jury appearance was this crucial sentence: Lawyers familiar with the investigation believe that at least part of the outcome likely hangs on the inner workings of what has been dubbed the White House Iraq Group.

Very little has been written about the White House Iraq Group, or WHIG. Its inception in August 2002, seven months before the invasion of Iraq, was never announced. Only much later would a newspaper article or two mention it in passing, reporting that it had been set up by Andrew Card, the White House chief of staff. Its eight members included Mr. Rove, Mr. Libby, Condoleezza Rice and the spinmeisters Karen Hughes and Mary Matalin. Its mission: to market a war in Iraq.

Of course, the official Bush history would have us believe that in August 2002 no decision had yet been made on that war. Dates bracketing the formation of WHIG tell us otherwise. On July 23, 2002 – a week or two before WHIG first convened in earnest – a British official told his peers, as recorded in the now famous Downing Street memo, that the Bush administration was ensuring that the intelligence and facts about Iraq’s W.M.D.’s “were being fixed around the policy” of going to war. And on Sept. 6, 2002 – just a few weeks after WHIG first convened – Mr. Card alluded to his group’s existence by telling Elisabeth Bumiller of The New York Times that there was a plan afoot to sell a war against Saddam Hussein: “From a marketing point of view, you don’t introduce new products in August.”

The official introduction of that product began just two days later. On the Sunday talk shows of Sept. 8, Ms. Rice warned that “we don’t want the smoking gun to be a mushroom cloud,” and Mr. Cheney, who had already started the nuclear doomsday drumbeat in three August speeches, described Saddam as “actively and aggressively seeking to acquire nuclear weapons.” The vice president cited as evidence a front-page article, later debunked, about supposedly nefarious aluminum tubes co-written by Judy Miller in that morning’s Times. The national security journalist James Bamford, in “A Pretext for War,” writes that the article was all too perfectly timed to facilitate “exactly the sort of propaganda coup that the White House Iraq Group had been set up to stage-manage.”

The administrationÔø?s doomsday imagery was ratcheted up from that day on. As Barton Gellman and Walter Pincus of The Washington Post would determine in the first account of WHIG a full year later, the administrationÔø?s Ôø?escalation of nuclear rhetoricÔø? could be traced to the groupÔø?s formation. Along with mushroom clouds, uranium was another favored image, the Post report noted, Ôø?because anyone could see its connection to an atomic bomb.Ôø? It appeared in a Bush radio address the weekend after the Rice-Cheney Sunday show blitz and would reach its apotheosis with the infamously fictional 16 words about Ôø?uranium from AfricaÔø? in Mr. BushÔø?s January 2003 State of the Union address on the eve of war.

Throughout those crucial seven months between the creation of WHIG and the start of the American invasion of Iraq, there were indications that evidence of a Saddam nuclear program was fraudulent or nonexistent. Joseph WilsonÔø?s C.I.A. mission to Niger, in which he failed to find any evidence to back up uranium claims, took place nearly a year before the presidentÔø?s 16 words. But the truth never mattered. The Bush-Cheney product rolled out by Card, Rove, Libby & Company had been bought by Congress, the press and the public. The intelligence and facts had been successfully fixed to sell the war, and any memory of Mr. BushÔø?s errant 16 words melted away in Shock and Awe. When, months later, a national security official, Stephen Hadley, took Ôø?responsibilityÔø? for allowing the president to address the nation about mythical uranium, no one knew that Mr. Hadley, too, had been a member of WHIG.
It was not until the war was supposedly over – with Ôø?Mission Accomplished,Ôø? in May 2003 – that Mr. Wilson started to add his voice to those who were disputing the administrationÔø?s uranium hype. Members of WHIG had a compelling motive to shut him down. In contrast to other skeptics, like Mohamed ElBaradei of the International Atomic Energy Agency (this yearÔø?s Nobel Peace Prize winner), Mr. Wilson was an American diplomat; he had reported his findings in Niger to our own government. He was a dagger aimed at the heart of WHIG and its disinformation campaign. Exactly who tried to silence him and how is what Mr. Fitzgerald presumably will tell us.

ItÔø?s long been my hunch that the WHIG-ites were at their most brazen (and, in legal terms, reckless) during the many months that preceded the appointment of Mr. Fitzgerald as special counsel. When Mr. Rove was asked on camera by ABC News in September 2003 if he had any knowledge of the Valerie Wilson leak and said no, it was only hours before the Justice Department would open its first leak investigation. When Scott McClellan later declared that he had been personally assured by Mr. Rove and Mr. Libby that they were Ôø?not involvedÔø? with the leak, the case was still in the safe hands of the attorney general then, John Ashcroft, himself a three-time Rove client in past political campaigns. Though Mr. Rove may be known as Ôø?BushÔø?s brain,Ôø? he wasnÔø?t smart enough to anticipate that Justice Department career employees would eventually pressure Mr. Ashcroft to recuse himself because of this conflict of interest, clearing the way for an outside prosecutor as independent as Mr. Fitzgerald.

Ôø?BushÔø?s BrainÔø? is the title of James Moore and Wayne SlaterÔø?s definitive account of Mr. RoveÔø?s political career. But Mr. Rove is less his bossÔø?s brain than another alliterative organ (or organs), that which provides testosterone. As we learn in Ôø?BushÔø?s Brain,Ôø? bad things (usually character assassination) often happen to Bush foes, whether Ann Richards or John McCain. On such occasions, Mr. Bush stays compassionately above the fray while the ruthless Mr. Rove operates below the radar, always separated by Ôø?a layer of operativesÔø? from any ill behavior that might implicate him. Ôø?There is no crime, just a victim,Ôø? Mr. Moore and Mr. Slater write of this repeated pattern.
THIS modus operandi was foolproof, shielding the president as well as Mr. Rove from culpability, as long as it was about winning an election. The attack on Mr. Wilson, by contrast, has left them and the Cheney-Libby tag team vulnerable because itÔø?s about something far bigger: protecting the lies that took the country into what the Reagan administration National Security Agency director, Lt. Gen. William Odom, recently called Ôø?the greatest strategic disaster in United States history.Ôø?

Whether or not Mr. Fitzgerald uncovers an indictable crime, there is once again a victim, but that victim is not Mr. or Mrs. Wilson; itÔø?s the nation. It is surely a joke of history that even as the White House sells this weekendÔø?s constitutional referendum as yet another Ôø?victoryÔø? for democracy in Iraq, we still donÔø?t know the whole story of how our own democracy was hijacked on the way to war.

IDEAS + INVENTIONS: Buckminster Fuller and Black Mountain College

Black Mountain College Museum + Arts Center
July 15 ñ November 26, 2005
Wed-Fri, 12pm-4pm
Sat 11am-5pm

Opening Reception:
Friday July 15, 6:00
$3 admission, free for BMCM+AC members and AIA members
Exhibition co-sponsors: Rupert Ravens, nices inc., and AIA Asheville

An exhibition exploring the genius of R. Buckminster Fuller through two- and three dimensional works.

R. Buckminster Fuller (1895-1983) was one of the most inventive, influential, and inspiring figures of the 20th century. Through his ideas and inventions, his teaching and lecturing around the globe, he influenced current thought in a wide variety of fields, including commercial and industrial design, mathematics, the sciences, the arts and architecture. His basic approach was to apply both scientific knowledge and creativity to think ìoutside the boxî when attempting to solve practical problems. Buckyís foremost concern was to find ways to ìdo more with lessî and to use resources most efficiently to serve humanity. He invented the term ìSpaceship Earthî to encourage people to see the entire world as one interdependent system. During his life and career, Fuller was awarded 25 U.S. patents, wrote 28 books, received 47 honorary doctorate degrees, circled the Earth 57 times consulting and lecturing, and received dozens of major architectural and design awards along with the prestigious Medal of Freedom, the highest civilian award in America. Buckminster Fuller taught at Black Mountain College in the summers of 1948 and 1949, and he served as the Director of the BMC Summer Institute in 1949.

The exhibition IDEAS+ INVENTIONS: Buckminster Fuller and Black Mountain College will include two-dimensional and three-dimensional works that present and explore Fullerís ideas. Also included in the show will be photographs taken of him and his students at Black Mountain College during the summers of 1948 and 1949, a Dymaxion map, and an autographed drawing of a geodesic dome. People can assemble models based on Fullerís inventions and fully experience his genius in a special hands-on area.

Radio interview on WUNC’s The State of Things
October 11th, 2005

Buckminster Fuller: In 1948, Buckminster Fuller, then a visiting teacher at Black Mountain College in Western North Carolina, built his first geodesic dome. It collapsed. The next summer he returned to Black Mountain and succeeded. Fuller later became famous for his domes and inventions, including the Dymaxion car, Dymaxion map, and World Game. A current exhibit at the Black Mountain College Museum and Art Center in Asheville looks back at those inventions and Fuller’s time in North Carolina. Host Frank Stasio talks with John Wright, board chairman at Black Mountain College Museum + Art Center in Asheville; Lloyd Steven Sieden, author of Buckminster Fuller’s Universe: His Life and Work (Perseus/2000); Jay Baldwin, author of Bucky Works: Buckminster Fuller’s Ideas for Today (Wiley/1997); and David McConville, BMCM+AC board member and co-founder of the Elumenati, a company in Asheville that designs immersive projection environments.