Why Jews, Mormons, and Immigrants Prosper: Three Essential Traits

Yale Law School professors (and spouses) Amy Chua (of Tiger Mother fame) and Jed Rubenfeld say in this NY Times article that Jews, Mormons, and immigrants are among those with the greatest upward mobility in the US. All successful members of these groups share three traits, some of which can even seem "un-American."

"It turns out that for all their diversity, the strikingly successful groups in America today share three traits that, together, propel success. The first is a superiority complex — a deep-seated belief in their exceptionality. The second appears to be the opposite — insecurity, a feeling that you or what you’ve done is not good enough. The third is impulse control."

Chua and Rubenfeld emphatically state that one or two of these traits is simply not enough to drive success. It requires all three. A lack of one or two of these factors or an improper balance of the three can lead to pathological behavior that would be antithetical to real prosperity.

Let's consider each of these three traits.

• Superiority. The authors note that Jews have a deep history of seeing themselves as God's chosen people. Mormons do as well, considering themselves to be heirs with God. And although Mormon history is less than two centuries old as opposed to four millennia for the Jews, Mormon theology finds the religion's roots in a premortal life long before the earth existed. Many immigrants see themselves as exceptional compared to their cohorts in the old country. While superiority can be narcissistic and dangerous, "The United States itself was born ... with an outsize belief in its own exceptionality," so it should be a familiar American trait.

• Insecurity. While insecurity is "anathema in American culture," it "runs deep in every one of America’s rising groups; and consciously or unconsciously, they tend to instill it in their children." The children of many immigrants are taught that failure to excel would dishonor the sacrifices of their elders. Despite their successes, Mormons are regularly the subject of popular derision. They also have a history of severe persecution in the 19th Century. Jews have been persecuted for millennia and were tortured and murdered by the millions in mid-20th Century Europe. While "In combination with a superiority complex, the feeling of being underestimated or scorned can be a powerful motivator," pressure to succeed can also make children feel like they can never please their parents.

• Impulse Control. Self discipline — putting off immediate desires for long-term rewards — "runs against the grain of contemporary [YOLO] culture.... The dominant culture is fearful of spoiling children’s happiness with excessive restraints or demands. By contrast, every one of America’s most successful groups takes a very different view of childhood, inculcating habits of discipline from a very early age — or at least they did so when they were on the rise." Both Jews and Mormons, for example, have restrictive dietary doctrines and Mormons take chastity and service very seriously. Immigrants often feel pressured to work hard and save.

The culture in which one is raised is important (but not essential) to success. Culture can foster a general rise among the group or it can stifle such mobility. The authors state:

"Any individual, from any background, can have what we call this Triple Package of traits. But research shows that some groups are instilling them more frequently than others, and that they are enjoying greater success."

But "groups rise and fall over time." Some groups that were once prosperous have stagnated while others that once struggled have risen. "The fact that groups rise and fall this way punctures the whole idea of “model minorities” or that groups succeed because of innate, biological differences" the authors claim.

Moreover, today's prosperity can sew the seeds of decline for future generations. To "the extent that a group passes on its wealth" by inheritance "without hard work, insecurity or discipline," the group is "likely to be headed for decline." An old proverb states that a rich man's son is seldom a rich man's father.

Not to worry, the authors say. In America "prosperity and power had their predictable effect, eroding the insecurity and self-restraint that led to them. By 2000, all that remained was our superiority complex, which by itself is mere swagger, fueling a culture of entitlement and instant gratification. Thus the trials of recent years — the unwon wars, the financial collapse, the rise of China — have, perversely, had a beneficial effect: the return of insecurity."

This is actually a good thing, the authors argue. "America has always been at its best when it has had to overcome adversity and prove its mettle on the world stage. For better and worse, it has that opportunity again today."

Still the authors warn that the success they are discussing revolves chiefly around material measures. Focusing too heavily on "external measures" of worth such as "prestige and money" may not lead to the kind of success that breeds happiness, which is what each of us really wants in life. On the other hand, despite our human longing for comfort, complacency and mediocrity might not lead to real happiness either.

Doing Family History Work by Uploading Media to FamilySearch

I am officially at a frustration point with respect to my family history work. But I'm not that worried about it. I've been there before and breakthroughs have eventually occurred that have allowed me to progress.

Family history research (and if you're LDS, preparatory documentation for the work of salvation for the dead) has come a long way since I first started trying to do research as a teen. Back in the day most research work required travel to a location where actual records or copies of records were stored, hours of painstaking analysis, written correspondence, and lots of writing on paper. I still have the notepad I first used when I started doing research.

While this kind of approach is still sometimes needed, most people can now complete a great deal of family history work from their home computers. Clearing names for temple work has gone from using paper records to using floppy discs to using writable CDs (all of these formats required visiting or corresponding with a family history center) to selecting a few links in a web browser window on any internet capable device.

I am a big fan of the modern FamilySearch website. Content that was once stored on local computers (where it was often out of sync) is now managed centrally, where it is available to broad audiences and where contributions from users worldwide can be coordinated. The site's heavily graphical interface can sometimes be a little slow by modern standards. But it's not bad and the tradeoffs are worth the wait.

The recently enhanced ability to upload and tag photos, stories and documents particularly interests me. This has become my go-to place when I find myself temporarily unable to progress with research and submitting names, the condition in which I currently find myself.

I do have a nit to pick with the site designers. One of the ways to access this part of the website is through the Photos link on the top menu of the website (see image below). This would more appropriately be labeled something like Media, since it includes stories and documents (and perhaps videos in the future). Why would anyone think that they first had to click on Photos to get to stories?

image of FamilySearch top line menu

A second way to access select media elements is by clicking on a person's name in Family Tree. This causes a panel to appear that shows information about the individual and along with links to the various media items have been tagged for the individual (see image below). Clicking on the various links takes you to pages showing those items.

image of FamilySearch individual information panel

Uploading and tagging photos can digitally preserve images that would often otherwise languish in storage until they were eventually tossed out following the demise of whoever had the photos. Or else photos are sometimes passed down with little information, since everyone that knew who was in the photos has passed on, diminishing the family value of the photos. Putting these photos online while information is still available preserves these pictures for the long term. Original documents, such as life event certificates or even old report cards can be uploaded.

Another valuable service is recording and uploading stories about family members. Tagging all those mentioned in the story automatically links the story to those people. Most family stories disappear with the passing of those who witnessed the events or who heard the stories told by those that did.

Recently I came into possession of a handful of pages handwritten by my grandmother many years ago, where she related various names and events. I have evidence that some of the information presented is somewhat suspect, probably due to the condition of Grandma's faculties at the time. But there are some great stories.

For example, I had no idea that my father's cousin was killed in World War II and lived to tell about it. The story goes that he was a casualty in a violent battle. His body lay in a morgue while his young bride was notified and was brought to the location where she could identify the body. Given the challenges of communicating and traveling in war torn Europe, nine days had passed by the time she arrived.

When they pulled back the cover on the body, the young wife said that she saw the body move. She insisted that a doctor be brought. The doctor was displeased to be pulled away from important work. He refused to believe the woman until he suddenly saw the body twitch. My father's cousin was rushed to a nearby hospital, where he underwent surgery and remained for many weeks of recovery. But he lived a relatively normal life after that.

Since the subjects of this story are deceased and the couple no children, I'm not sure that anyone would have been aware of this story had I not encountered it, written it up, and uploaded it to FamilySearch. Now it is available to anyone with interest in the matter.

When putting stories on FamilySearch, I have found it useful to first write, review, and correct the stories in a text editor. I have used Google Drive and Microsoft Word. The content of the text editor window can then be copied and pasted into a FamilySearch story frame. Bear in mind that reading content online is different than reading it on paper. Judicious use of white space, such as adding a line between paragraphs, can help a lot. Don't bother trying to indent paragraphs. When I tried this the results were not good.

You can associate up to one photo with each story. If you have multiple photos that could accompany a story, you might try breaking the story up into smaller parts. I have found it useful when I do this to number the parts of the story by adding numbering to each story title. This allows others to more easily read the pieces in sequence.

Others can comment on the stories you create on FamilySearch and you can respond to their comments. This allows for useful collaboration, such as when others have additional information that you lack. You can also edit the stories you add to the site if you discover new or different information.

Uploading photos, documents, and stories to FamilySearch may not help clear anyone for temple work, but it is still a valuable part of the important work of turning the hearts of the children to their fathers (Malachi 4:6).

What family stories do you know that could be preserved on FamilySearch?

Update 2/4/2014: The label of the Photos link that I thought ought to have been titled differently has now been changed to Memories. I see this as a most welcome change.

A Diet of Blended Punishment

I don't watch much TV. We were recently told by a sales rep that we could get the premium cable package for $6 more per month than what we pay for internet access. (Well, that and the cable box rental, fees, etc. Probably more like $40/month.) We talked it over with the family and everyone voted against it. We've seen cable at other people's houses. They've got lots and lots of channels ... of stuff that we just aren't interested in spending our time watching.

Recently as I was reclining in a dental chair I became even more convinced that our decision to remain free of cable TV was the right choice. I couldn't help staring at the ceiling where a TV had been placed directly in my view field. It was either look at the TV or concentrate on the pattern of tiny holes in the adjacent ceiling tiles. I'm not much into staring into the hygenist's eyes at close range—an activity that I reserve for my wife.

Since I had declined the complimentary headphones, I was spared the audio portion of the TV program. Even without sound, trying to ignore the blender infomercial was like trying to look away from a gruesome traffic accident. While they were selling a mere blender (which clearly wasn't a Blendtec industrial strength model), they were hawking it as some kind of fountain of youth cure-all answer to all of your weight and health woes.

I watched as blenders full of a variety of carefully arranged, extremely choice and tasty looking produce items were presented. Then someone would press a button and wham-o! The gorgeous cornucopia was immediately reduced to a horrid looking slurry that closely resembled the consequences of consuming such a diet on an uninitiated intestinal tract.

The worst part was when they showed families of people drinking the stuff with smiles on their faces. The irony of people wearing store bought grins showing the teeth that they should have used to grind up the whole food instead of letting a machine do the work was apparently lost on the marketing folks. Some of the younger family members were obviously having difficulty maintaining their goofy smiles. I couldn't help but wonder how much they had to pay those people. And how much the mom and dad had to threaten their kids to get them to go along.

What's up with this whole blender fad anyway? Beyond simply providing nutrition, food is supposed to "please the eye and gladden the heart" (D&C 59:18). Reducing a meal to sub-baby-food gruel destroys the presentation, which is an important element of the human dining experience.

Like other food fads, people will rush to try the blender fad. Then after they realize how difficult it is to do, how unpleasant it is to consume (and to digest), and how little it apparently affects the health conditions they hope to resolve, they will revert to their standard diets. Their magic blenders will gather dust on the counter or else be relegated to some remote shelf for storage. Sure, there will be die-hards that stick with the blender diet (maybe because they're into self punishment). But they will be a small minority.

After my dental appointment I had little appetite. Not that the dental work caused problems. I was just a little queasy from the blender infomercial. Maybe my dentist should more carefully screen what is shown on the office's TVs.

The Frustration Wonder of Children

Our son that is in high school is and always has been a remarkable individual. While he certainly regularly demonstrates many of the faults that are common to young men, he has always had a certain goodness of soul.

Still, this son has always been, well, a bit different than the mainstream. From the time he was tiny he has approached life differently than our other kids and from most kids we know. After spending part of a summer working at a Boy Scout camp, the camp director told me, "That one marches to the beat of a different drummer. But it's a good drummer."

This child has always been curious about things, forever asking questions to which I don't know the answer or that are not easily addressed. When he was still in elementary school my father gave him a book about quantum physics because Dad was convinced that our son could grasp such principles. Nowadays when our son asks deep questions about scientific matters, I tell him to research it for himself.

We have called this son our wandering child. It is common for him to become so interested in something—often something that might not catch the attention of most people—that other matters (that we sometimes think ought to be more pressing) seemingly disappear from his active cognition.

From the time he was mobile, this son has regularly wandered off to explore something that has caught his interest. This means that he has gotten lost more than the rest of our children put together. It's difficult to explain the sheer terror of losing your four-year-old in a sea of 10,000 people at a parade. Now that this child the tallest member of our family it's easier to keep track of him. Sometimes he will even answer his phone if we can't locate him.

Given my lifelong involvement in scouting, my sons have been involved as well. This son is my Mr. Reliable when it comes to scouting needs. He is also my go-to family member for hiking. Nobody else in the family cares much for hiking. We have pictures of this son and me on each of the major mountain peaks in our area. It is difficult to explain the emotions I felt when this boy instigated our last major hike in October.

This strapping boy is musically gifted. He regularly demonstrates finesse and nuance far beyond the average pianist his age when playing classical piano compositions. He can play the euphonium and is quite good on his ocarinas. He composes and records electronic dance music. But his favorite instrument at present is his voice. He has a good range for a bass. But it bothers him that he doesn't have perfect enough pitch to always precisely hit the note at the very outset. He can adjust within a fraction of a second, but he wishes for perfect pitch. He fantasizes about going into voice acting with his marvelous speaking voice.

Mr. Music was asked to prepare a musical number for church a few weeks ago. But he didn't do anything about it. Finally a week before the performance I pulled him to the piano and offered some options. Among other things I offered to dust off a piano duet we had played a while back. He seemed indifferent to all of my suggestions.

I finally pulled out an arrangement of Come Thou Fount (purposefully selected for its easy accompaniment) and insisted that Mr. Voice sing while I played. Here is where a well practiced voice that has often sung before audiences comes in handy. After reviewing the piece a few times he was ready to perform with beautiful tonal quality and well placed and wide ranging emotional emphasis.

We all get sidetracked on diversions once in awhile, but this seems to be more the rule than the exception for our smart and talented son. My wife and I are nearly apoplectic about how we're going to get him to graduate high school. It is not uncommon for students to have difficulty managing their assignment load. But our son has always had organizational challenges. He does fine with assignments and activities done together as a class, but he just can't seem to get organized when it comes to individual (or even small group) tasks, regardless of whether they are to be done at school or at home.

It is already clear that our son is going to be doing summer school again this year, despite our best efforts to prevent this outcome. We are working with him to implement some additional measures that we hope (beyond hope) will limit the amount of work he will have to do this summer. We have considered clinical interventions, but I'm not sure that I want to medicate the uniqueness out of my child.

Kids can be so wonderful. Kids can be so frustrating. Sometimes simultaneously. Sometimes simultaneously in the same kid.

The Saturday Chores

House cleaning chores happen on Saturday morning at our place. Or at least, that's when they're supposed to happen. A motivated child can get through his/her assigned chores in 45 minutes. An hour tops. But our kids regularly tend to drag the chores out for 2½-3 hours or even longer.

I guess it's like when my mom used to make my brother eat vegetables that he really detested. We all had to eat them, but this brother had a particular dislike of certain vegetables. There was a time consuming ritual to arrive at the point where my brother would put the vegetables in his mouth. He would then reluctantly chew on them. And chew, and chew, and chew, while trying to achieve the fortitude to swallow them.

We used to chide my brother for his antics. We asked him why, if he disliked the taste of the vegetables so much, he didn't just wolf them down as rapidly as possible and get it over with. Why did he have to keep the distasteful food in his mouth for-stinking-ever? Our kids often (not always) follow a similar pattern with their chores.

I don't think that our family's chores are particularly onerous. While we clean the house every Saturday, our home isn't the cleanest place on earth. Far from it. When I lived in Norway I frequently saw little plaques on the walls of homes that said something like, "Clean enough to be healthy, dirty enough to be home." That describes our house. Most of the time. When we err, it's on the side where being clean enough to be healthy might be questionable.

Our kids clean the bathrooms (including the toilets). They dust the furniture, wall hangings, curtains, blinds, fan blades, etc. Or these things at least get to see the duster. They vacuum. To a certain extent. They empty the wastebaskets. And that's about it. Each of these children started doing these chores when they were still wee tots, so they all have plenty of practice.

You might commend us for having such (janitorially) well trained children. But you must understand that we have developed an odd tradition that has become sacrosanct to our children. In the dim ages when the older children were starting out with chores, we discovered that we couldn't get them to be productive until they finished watching their beloved Saturday morning cartoons. We ultimately settled on 10:00 am as the time for starting chores.

Only the youngest still bothers with TV on Saturday mornings. The others tend to sleep, do stuff on the computer, play video games, etc. until the stroke of ten. Or for a few minutes thereafter until my wife or I get on their case.

Given the 10:00 am chore start time, you'd think that the chores would be done by 11:00 am. But no. Because the children are expert at finding things that absolutely must happen at the moment chore time arrives. "I haven't had breakfast yet," says one. "I'm going to take a shower first," says another. "I have to use the toilet," says another. Each of these tasks seems to take the better part of an hour. Plus another 30-45 minutes to get dressed. By the time a child finally gets ready to start on a chore, the child says, "It's lunchtime. I need to eat," despite having eaten breakfast only a short time earlier.

When the chore activities finally get underway, our children seem to have developed great expertise in taking as long as possible to complete their chores. Not that all of that time translates into thoroughness. It translates into much lolly-gagging and complaining about not being able to get to other more desirable activities.

A favorite tactic is spending copious time finding, setting up, and using their personal audio devices. Earbuds are forever disappearing. Waiting for the vacuum is another favored stalling activity, despite the fact that we have three vacuums in the house. (That's a long story.) But the vacuum the child wants to use is already occupied. Or the child feigns being unable to locate some other favored cleaning implement.

It's my brother chewing on his hated vegetables all over again. I ask my children why, if they want to get on to leisure, they don't get their chores done as quickly as possible. Heaven knows they couldn't possibly be much less thorough if they hurried.

In reality, I very much appreciate the housework my children do, despite the nagging it sometimes requires to get them to do it. They (mostly) do a fair job. Unlike some of their peers, they actually know how to clean a toilet, chemicals and all. I'm not sure how well this translates into regularly cleaning the toilet after they are living on their own. But at least they'll know how to do it. You can do much to prepare your child for life outside of the family abode, but what they do with that preparation once they get there is largely up to them.

Agency: The Prime Divine Directive

In trying to develop his own theodicy, my son (who dabbles in philosophy) wrote:

"If God knows all, how did satan come to be? A perfect God would not create an offspring knowing full well that that child would never have a chance at eternal salvation. The only thing I can think of is if somehow God hadn’t achieved omniscience at the time he procreated Lucifer. This way He knew that one of His children would end up becoming the devil but not which specific one. I have no idea if this postulate violates doctrine.

"Adding to the previous entry, this gives rise to the idea that God knows before He creates each spirit what the eternal fate of that spirit will be. This being stated, would a perfect God create myriad souls, much less a single soul, that wouldn’t achieve eternal life, or, more basely, that would become perdition? One idea is that He doesn’t know (whether by choice or by eternal law I couldn’t say) the person until after He creates them. Another is that since God can see eternity, the concept of Him knowing what’s going to happen and what’s not isn’t the same in the eternal sphere as that which we can comprehend."

In order to understand my son's proposition, it is necessary to understand the LDS doctrines of the nature of God, the plan of salvation, and the nature of the devil. As explained in this Encyclopedia of Mormonism article on God, God is a term that includes the Divine Father, his son Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost. However, LDS scripture states that "The Father has a body of flesh and bones as tangible as man's; the Son also; but the Holy Ghost has not a body of flesh and bones, but is a personage of Spirit" (D&C 130:22).

As explained in this EoM article on God the Father, God the Father is omnipotent and omniscient. He "existed prior to the Son and the Holy Ghost and is the source of their divinity. ... He is ultimately the source of all things and the Father of all things, for in the beginning he begot the Son, and through the instrumentality of his agent, the Son, the Father accomplished the creation of all things."

LDS doctrine further states (see EoM: Plan of Salvation) that God's plan for the eternal happiness of his children involves several stages, including life with God in a premortal existence, life on earth for those that chose to move forward with God's plan, and a postmortal eternal existence, the quality of which is dependent on one's acceptance of the Atonement of Christ and willing adherence to divine principles. Unlike some religious teachings, LDS doctrine provides for ample opportunity both in this life and afterward for all of God's children to ultimately achieve the greatest glory God has to give.

The above referenced article on God the Father states, "All individual human spirits were begotten (not created from nothing or made) by the Father in a premortal state, where they lived and were nurtured by Heavenly Parents." In The Family: A Proclamation to the World, LDS prophets and apostles state, "Each [human being] is a beloved spirit son or daughter of heavenly parents, and, as such, each has a divine nature and destiny."

Prior to our birth as spirits in the premortal life we existed as eternal intelligence, which "was not created or made, neither indeed can be" (D&C 93:29). But as explained in this EoM article on Intelligences, God has not yet revealed more about the nature of our prespirit state, so more specific pronouncements about it are merely speculation.

One of God's significant characteristics is his commitment to the agency of his children. The Father "will never violate individual agency by forcing his children to exaltation and happiness. Coercion in any degree, even in the form of predestination to the Celestial Kingdom, is abhorrent to the nature of the Father."

Having rudimentarily outlined the doctrines of God and his plan of happiness, we still need to understand the nature of Satan. "In the premortal life, Lucifer was an angel having authority in the presence of God. He played a prominent role in the Council in Heaven. After the Father in Heaven offered the plan of righteousness to help his children become as he is, Lucifer countered with an alternative plan" designed to spare individuals the pain inherent in the Father's plan, but that would eliminate agency and transfer God's glory and authority to Lucifer (EoM: Devils). For this rebellion Lucifer and his followers (consisting of one-third of the spirits in that realm) were cast out to the earth, having forsaken their opportunities to receive physical bodies and to progress eternally.

This set of doctrines requires that God (being all knowing) knowingly (and being all powerful) deliberately allowed Lucifer to receive a spirit body in the premortal existence; although, God was completely aware that Lucifer would ultimately rebel, would be the means of eternally turning one-third of God's spirit children into devils, and would perpetrate much evil on the earth. In my son's mind, a perfectly loving God would not do such a thing.

I told my son that I begged to differ with his interpretation. "Because of [his perfect] love, it is the nature of the Father to improve everything and everyone to the extent that they will allow" (EoM: God the Father). God would love for each of his children to own the eternal joy and glory that he owns, but the only way for that to happen is through the completely voluntary choice of individuals to follow God and do his will. This voluntary system necessarily requires the open availability of all kinds of alternatives as well.

Agency plays a preeminent role in God's plan. God can institute and maintain consequences for misuse of agency that violates divine laws, but he cannot preempt an individual's opportunity to make those kinds of choices in a way that violates individual agency. At least, in doing so he would cease to be God.

One friend likened this to a chemist that fully knows beforehand what result will be produced by completing a given experiment. If achieving the result is his goal, it does not matter that he knows what the experiment will produce; he must still complete the experiment to get the result.

So it is with God. He knows beforehand what each of his children will choose to become, but it is essential to his goal of providing for divine happiness that he allow each of his children to actually become what they choose. He lovingly provides the route they must follow to arrive at their optimal destination and he invites them to follow that path. But he cannot usurp their agency to stop them from choosing a different path without renouncing his godhood, as doing so would be antithetical to godhood.

This is the whole reason earth life is structured as it is. The game is played out on a level playing field where neither good nor evil has any clear advantage over the other. Opposition is essential to the great plan of happiness (see 2 Nephi 2). Bad stuff can happen to individuals due to natural factors and the choices of others. But the Savior's Atonement ultimately compensates for any such problems. The important matter is how we choose to use our agency. God will try to entice us to choose his path, but he will never coerce us into doing so, even when he is fully aware that some of his children will perpetrate great evil.

There is no reason to believe that the nature of God was any different in the premortal life than it is now. His omniscience, omnipotence, love, and commitment to agency were not diminished in that state. It did not matter that God knew that Lucifer would follow a path that would lead to perdition. Being God, he had to be committed to Lucifer's agency.

God did not design Lucifer. Rather, he gave birth to a spirit from an eternal intelligence. Refusing to grant a spirit body to this individual—a type of premortal abortion—would have been antithetical to the nature of godhood, as it would have violated Lucifer's agency by short-circuiting his progression along his chosen route. God did not "make" Satan. But he could not refuse Lucifer the opportunity of becoming Satan without ceasing to be God.

Godhood is not for the feint of heart. While it is the nature of God to own a perfect fullness of divine joy, it is also his nature to experience a perfect fullness of divine sorrow. Being God does not mean creating anything in anyway that happens to suit one's fancies. It means adhering to the eternal laws of godhood, which require creating in a way that allows others to choose the divine path.

Curtailing agency, even to circumvent evil, would necessarily also destroy the divine path. Providing a pathway to godhood also means allowing the road to perdition to exist. God can put up warning signs, but he cannot close the road without also closing the divine road. Allowing all willing souls to choose ultimate light also means allowing all willing souls to choose ultimate darkness. There is no other way.

God was not omnisciently or omnipotently deficient when Lucifer was born as a spirit. God was doing what a perfectly loving God does: providing an open opportunity for a soul to become fully divine or to choose a different path. I suspect that in a future day when all hidden things are revealed (see Mormon 5:8) we will more fully comprehend Lucifer's choice and will not charge God foolishly (see Job 1:22) for the result.

Your New Exercise Equipment Will Likely See Little Use

As we swapped stories about past jobs one colleague told of working at an exercise equipment manufacturing company. "I had a hard time feeling good about working there," he said. "All of the equipment we made was junk. They engineered it to last only 90 days."

Another colleague opined that the complaint and return rate must have been pretty high, which must have eaten into profits. "Nah," said our friend. "They know that almost nobody that buys exercise equipment uses it for 90 days. It ends up sitting idle or being used for hanging clothes. It never get used long enough to break down."

I have gone through several pieces of exercise equipment over the years. My first machine was a rowing machine. You can get a decent full-body workout with a good rowing machine. The problem was that this was not a good rowing machine; it was a cheap one. I used it a lot until it broke. Even then I used it until I couldn't make it work anymore. That's way more than most people use a piece of exercise equipment.

My parents once bought a HealthRider that I tried several times. It consistently gave me saddle sores so I quit using it. Mom used it as a clothes hanger for years.

My most enduring piece of equipment has been a NordicTrack cross country ski machine. Unlike most consumer exercise machines, these devices are built to endure years of use. I got my first NodicTrack about a quarter century ago. I used it so much that I replaced some parts twice. Eventually I got a better model and gave the other one away. I now have a second machine that we bought cheaply simply so that we could cannibalize parts for the machine I use regularly.

My next most enduring piece of equipment is a bunch of free weights. Weights are fairly cheap and are very durable. I have a cheap foldable lifting bench that I also use.

But it takes time to fool around with free weights. Switching weights around can seriously interrupt the flow of your workout and increase workout time. So I acquired a Bowflex machine. Bowflex equipment isn't cheap, but it's quite durable.

I'll be the first to admit that resistance machine workouts lack some of the physical benefits of using free weights. But machines are much more convenient. Besides, I work out for fitness, not so that I can look like a gym buff boy. After several years of Bowflex ownership, I upgraded to a higher model. I am quite pleased with my Bowflex, which I use in combination with free weights.

We have an exercise bike in the basement that rarely gets used by the family member for which it was purchased. I have a couple of chap ab wheels that I use. Come to think of it, every durable piece of equipment that I have used with consistency has been acquired AFTER I already developed the habit of working out in that manner. The equipment was acquired for the sake of convenience, not to try to spur me on to exercise.

What this means is that I am abnormal—or at least not average. A normal (i.e. average) American buys exercise equipment thinking that it will get them to commit to doing exercise that they feel they ought to do but that they currently do not do. The same is true of gym memberships.

As explained in this Active.com article, people that buy exercise equipment quickly discover that exercising requires a time commitment. It is often boring and difficult. It's uncomfortable to the point of being painful and only produces results after much time and effort. Most people are not ready for that set of tradeoffs. Consequently, the purchase of equipment rarely engenders the required level of commitment. So after a few uses the equipment sits.

Exercise really comes down to the level of commitment, not to the equipment. Frankly, you can engage in very healthy exercise routines that require no or very little equipment at all. Some fitness experts say that these routines are much healthier for you than are equipment based routines.

In fact, some experts say that exercises that most closely approximate normal physical work are the healthiest. But if you're going to do that, why not just do the actual physical work and bag the silly fitness routine?

It comes down to what is going to keep you exercising. The linked Active.com article suggests that hiring a personal trainer does it for many people. I guess it's not that much different than hiring a piano teacher to give you piano lessons. But most people just aren't into hiring a personal trainer. Where do you find them? At the gym? And what if you don't like going to the gym?

That's me. I don't like going to the gym. Many people need the social aspect of working out to exercise. Not me. I'm an antisocial exerciser. I don't want to exercise with anybody else. It's my personal thing. That's why I have my own gym at home.

Nor am I like my friends that run. I don't like running, an activity that one critic calls a one-person parade. I force myself to run sometimes, but I don't like it much. I don't like the shin splints I inevitably get or the results of joint jarring. I don't like dealing with the gravel, the cars, weather, etc.

And don't bother writing with great tips on how to avoid shin splints. I've heard them all and I've found the only one that really works for me: just don't run.

One morning I was walking our dog (a necessity if you're going to be a responsible dog owner) as passels of runners in a local 5K race (not a necessity) went by. None of those people looked very happy, especially the gal running with the front of the pack that stopped long enough to vomit in my neighbor's bushes before carrying on. And marathons? That's pain for the sake of it. I can't even begin to fathom barefoot running, which seems like taking an already insane activity to a new level of lunacy.

In fact, recent research suggests that extreme fitness really isn't very good for your body. It should be noted that extreme fitness enthusiasts have found fault with these studies. But who am I to quibble with research that gives me a great excuse for avoiding ultra fitness craziness?

I have said before that a fitness program has to work for the individual both physically and psychologically. So your fitness program may not look like somebody else's. And what works for you today may not work down the road. Fitness programs need to change with the individual's changing needs. So I really can't tell you what kind of program will work for you. I have arrived at my current routine through trial and error.

So, as we embark on a new year and its attendant resolutions, what will it take to get YOU to exercise and to keep exercising? If you're like the average American, the answer is nothing. Because nothing seems to be effective.

Professional, amateur, and government scolding and nagging doesn't do it. Buying expensive exercise equipment doesn't do it either for most people. So maybe you ought to save your money until you can dredge up the requisite level of commitment. It's far cheaper and no less healthy than the alternative of buying equipment that you won't really use.

The Logistics of Sacrament Meeting Programs

I furtively glanced at the clock on the wall of the chapel. The remaining meeting time was slipping away. Yet the first speaker gave no sign of concluding his talk. I quietly expressed gratitude that I was merely a congregant and not among the bishopric members that were seated on the stand and who were responsible for the meeting.

The speaker, a newly returned missionary, spoke with purity, reverence, love, and conviction. Despite the large congregation, most were reverently attentive to the speaker and seemed to be engaged in his message. There was a minimum of distracting noises or even white noise. I could tell that many present were feeling the Holy Spirit.

Still, I felt anxious for the two other speakers that were sitting on the stand awaiting their turn to speak. Moreover, I knew that a number of 11- and 12-year-old girls had worked hard to prepare a special musical number for the program. Would there be time for any of these items?

I frequently try to remind myself that the main purpose of sacrament meeting is for "members of the Church [to] renew their covenants by partaking of the sacrament" (Handbook 2, Section 18.2.2). Other purposes such as to "worship, provide gospel instruction, perform ordinances, conduct ward business, and strengthen faith and testimony" are icing on the cake, as it were. Each of these has value and is important, but each is also ancillary to the main feature of the ordinance of the sacrament where we covenant to make the Atonement of Christ the central component of our lives.

Our bishop is a wonderful man that seems to exude love. As a convert to the church he was not raised amid church protocol. He seems relatively willing to conduct meetings "after the manner of the working of the Spirit, and by the power of the Holy Ghost" (Moroni 6:9).

Still, church protocol exists for a reason. Bishoprics that plan sacrament meeting programs know that each meeting should last 70 minutes (Handbook 2, Section 18.1). Adhering closely to this schedule becomes more important when sacrament meeting occupies the first segment of the three meeting block or when another ward is waiting to enter the chapel for their own meeting.

When I served in a bishopric I quickly discovered that the meeting opening and the sacrament ordinance consumed roughly 25-30 minutes. It sometimes took longer if the number of visitors made for an unusually large congregation. The closing hymn and benediction usually took about five minutes. This left about 35-40 minutes (sometimes less) for the program.

Bishoprics are sometimes guilty of over scheduling—trying to cram too many program items into the allotted time. That's unfair to those that are asked to participate on the program. Musical numbers are generally limited in scope. But once a speaker steps to the microphone bishopric members have remarkably little control over how long that person will speak.

When I was responsible for issuing callings to speak I gave each a slip of paper that described the topic, where they were scheduled on the program, the time frame for their talk, and a list of people that would be willing to help them prepare. Most speakers stayed close to the time frame and topic. Some didn't.

I recall one brother (whom I dearly love) speaking with random aimlessness for about 25 minutes when he had been slated to max out at 12 minutes. The bishop twice very nearly got up to ask the man to sit down, but he restrained himself. The man's wife restrained herself too. Very rarely have I seen a speaker add anything of much value after exceeding his or her time limit.

Being the final speaker in a sacrament meeting can be challenging. You might end up with far more, or more likely, far less time than anticipated, requiring you to adjust your talk accordingly. I have also noted that with rare exception the congregation largely stops listening with about five minutes remaining in the meeting. At that point whatever you have to say just isn't important enough for people to listen.

Ending up with excess time at the end of sacrament meeting is an infrequent problem. But when I served in a bishopric our stake presidency asked us to stop referring to such events as "high five Sundays." (We had sacrament meeting last, so most congregants went home early under such conditions.) I note that nowadays any excess time is usually filled by a member of the bishopric or stake presidency. Another option is for the bishop to ask people to bear testimony.

In the meeting mentioned at the start of this post I could tell that the young man felt good about his talk as he concluded. But he did a double take when he glanced at the clock and realized that only five minutes of meeting time remained. He appeared a little nervous as he seated himself beside the other planned speakers. Our bishop got up and made a few kind remarks, noting that the Spirit had been present and that the other speakers would be asked to address the congregation on another occasion.

As congregants filed out of the chapel following the closing hymn and prayer, I noticed that the mother of one of the girls that was to have sung had one of the bishop's counselors cornered. She was explaining that a number of grandparents had braved snowy roads and had rearranged their schedules to see their granddaughters sing at the meeting. The uncomfortable counselor nervously said that he would discuss the matter with the bishop. I remember days like that. Bishopric members always seem to be in trouble with some members of the congregation.

Bishopric members have a lot to do and think about as they prepare for and execute sacrament meetings. After stumbling over a few seemingly simple announcements at the beginning of a sacrament meeting, one bishop remarked that conducting the meeting looks easy until you have to stand up and do it.

In my experience I have discovered that bishopric members can do much to help sacrament meetings go more smoothly. It's their job to help speakers understand their assignment, including how to stay on topic and within their allotted time frame. Too often bishopric members are so relieved to get someone to agree to speak that they drop the ball on the specifics of the assignment.

Church members that are asked to speak can also help. For starters, there is no need to get so uptight about speaking. It isn't really about you. Unless you do something incredibly memorable (which doesn't happen a lot), the memory that you even spoke will fade for most people after a few weeks. Just ask your family members who spoke in sacrament meeting two weeks ago.

Members of the congregation want you to succeed. Most are just trying to survive your talk. If you think about it, you will likely discover some things you can do to help them out. For starters, don't criticize the authority that asked you to speak and don't make it sound like a huge ordeal. That's prideful and selfish. Just dive in and do your assignment without making a big deal about it. I promise that you will feel a lot better about your talk.

If you are an active member of the LDS Church, you have likely attended many sacrament meetings and you will likely attend many more. At some point during your life you will likely have the opportunity (or many opportunities) of taking part in or affecting a sacrament meeting program. It goes with the territory.

Mistakes can be expected to happen in an all volunteer church. And that's OK. God will still love you even if you make some stupendous social faux pas. Nothing can really go very wrong in an eternal sense. Just follow the Spirit and try to enhance the worship experience. It will all work out. You will survive and so will the members of the congregation.

Echo of The Angels' Songs

Last year I wrote about my love of Christmas music. I related how as a child I once stood in our carport and looked at the neighborhood Christmas lights shining through the big fluffy snowflakes that were falling. Feeling overwhelmed by the Christmas spirit I spontaneously sang O Holy Night at the top of my lungs. I didn't care who heard me. I wasn't singing for my neighbors. I was singing for my God. And it felt so right.

When we listen to or participate in sacred Christmas music it is as if our heart strings faintly vibrate with the echo of the songs the angels sang for the shepherds outside of Bethlehem on that first Christmas night—songs of praise declaring that Jesus Christ, the son of God had come to earth as a mortal baby and that he would grow to accomplish the Atonement so that each of us might have the opportunity of living the kind of life that God lives and owning the joy that God owns.

In fact, I believe that every sacred Christmas song, ancient or modern is an attempt to recapture the glory of the songs of praise the angels sang that first Christmas night. Our poor mortal talents can never accomplish that goal. But when we sing or perform in the same spirit of praise as did the angels or listen in the same spirit as did the shepherds, we can sense the echoes of those angelic songs. We can get a glimpse of the angels' glory, feel their testimony of Christ, and sense God's love for us.

May you have a joyous Christmas season. At some point as you experience the sacred songs of this season, may you feel your heart strings vibrate with the echo of the songs the angels sang those long years ago.

The Young are Best Suited to Parenting the Young

Years ago I worked with a lady that described a neighbor family as having 15 children, all single births. She said that the first half of the children turned out pretty well but that the last half provided an endless source of both private and public problems.

Some years later I became acquainted with a family that had eight children. Both parents seemed fairly sharp. The four older children were all solid citizens raising their own stable families. The next two both experienced a number of challenges before righting their ships of life and becoming productive members of society. The last two.... Well, frankly, it was, as a mutual friend said, as if the parents had run out of energy by the time those two were being raised.

My brother, who has been an empty nester for several years recently described hosting his son, daughter-in-law, and their three young children for several days at Thanksgiving. While the association was nice, my brother said that after their guests were gone he and his wife collapsed exhausted on the couch and listened to the quiet.

I quipped to my brother, "What you are saying is that the parenting of young children is best left to young parents." "Precisely," he replied. Someone then remarked that by the time you've learned all of the lessons of parenting children you no longer have any at home, but that this is good because you also lack the necessary energy for the task.

Our older children regularly harangue us with the "You never let us get away with that" refrain. I openly admit to them that they are often right. But then I rattle off my reasons:

• There are more of you to deal with at present than there were back then.
• I now have a much better idea about which battles are worth fighting, thanks to training provided by the older children.
• Each child is an individual. The tactics that worked for you don't work well with your younger sibling.
• Perhaps more important than any of the above is the fact that I am older and have less pep than I did back in the day.

This last point is not to be underestimated. My wife and I married later than most of our friends. Then it took us several years (and some fairly invasive infertility treatments) to begin having kids. The age difference between me and my oldest child is greater than the age difference between my brother and his youngest child. We had five kids while many of our contemporaries had fewer. Not that I'm complaining. This was, after all, our own choice. Also, biology being imperfect, the births of our children were often spaced further apart than we had hoped.

This means that my wife and I are fairly well seasoned. Some of our friends have grandchildren as old as our youngest child. People have occasionally thought that our daughter was our granddaughter. It kind of shocks me to think of how old I will be when I am attending our daughter's high school graduation ceremony.

My wife and I have studied a great deal of literature on how to properly raise children. The world is full of experts that, despite having very imperfect family relations, apparently know how to market books about ideal family life. Heck, my wife has a degree on the subject. (Family relations, not book selling.) I often know what I should do. But sometimes I simply lack sufficient vitality to do it. The weakness of my flesh sometimes means that my hard gained knowledge and wisdom are worth naught in practice.

It used to amaze me to see the extreme eagerness of some to get their kids out of the home. I wondered why they had embarked on the parenting adventure in the first place. Given my ever increasing weariness, I am much less prone to such judgments nowadays. Although our nest will be occupied by more than just the two of us for many years yet, I am told that there is joy (or maybe joyful terror) to be found in watching a fledgling take flight.

My Big Break Came From Another's Service

"Be good to others," my boss told me. "You never know where your next break will come from. Besides, kindness costs you very little." He went on to tell me about being in a situation where he had to regularly meet with the same group of people for a number of months. He wasn't close to any of them but maintained a good professional relationship with each.

A couple of years later when a position opened up in another area, one of my boss' colleagues from his old task group championed him for the job, which was a promotion for him. He still had no idea why she did this, since there were other competent applicants that might have fit better. But he figured that exercising common courtesy and treating team members respectfully had helped.

A couple of years later I was doing decreasing amounts of tax auditor work and increasing amounts of office automation. This allowed auditors in our office to focus less on clerical functions and more on audit functions that required human judgment. It also provided information to which they previously had little access. I was gaining a reputation as a competent programmer,

One day my boss (a different boss by this time) called me into his office and said that the I.T. department had requested me to work on a 120-day temporary assignment. I wondered how they selected me. I didn't even know anyone the I.T. department, but I jumped at the chance.

By the time my temporary assignment was coming to a close I had proven my I.T. worth by successfully completing development work on several projects. There was talk of extending my assignment. To my disappointment, the approval didn't come through and I unhappily returned to my old auditor digs.

Eventually a permanent programmer position was announced and I applied. But things move awfully slowly in government agencies. So months went by before I was finally selected for the job. In the meantime I spent many evenings going back to school to enhance my programming skills.

I later learned that a lady in the personnel department whom I only obliquely knew had been my great benefactor. She had engineered my first temporary assignment to the I.T. department. She had also killed the extension of that assignment because she knew that I.T. would keep me on temporary assignment indefinitely rather than fill a permanent position that had growth potential. (The money came out of different budgets categories.) When I.T. couldn't fill the temporary assignment they were forced to open a stable position. My temporary assignment had uniquely qualified me for the job.

Thus my career was permanently changed for the better thanks to the work of a lady I hardly knew. I will never know why she worked to benefit me. It is quite possible that I just happened to provide the easiest way for her to accomplish her own assignments. Regardless, I will always be grateful for her help. It has helped me achieve many things in life that would otherwise have been impossible.

Family Christmas Traditions

I realized a few weeks ago that we no longer have any little kids. We still have nearly a full brood at home and we can still look forward to years of homework combat. But the kids are growing up. How do I know this? Other than the usual observations of children growing to adult size, I was surprised at this year's vote on Christmas decorating.

Our family policy has been to decorate not a moment earlier than the first weekend in December and then to put the decorations away sometime before New Years Eve. I quite enjoy the Christmas season, but its rarity is among the features that render it so endearing. While some people start decorating in October, for me that kind of thing increases the season's commonality, thereby, decreasing its specialness.

A few weeks ago, noting that December first this year fell on the Sunday of a long holiday weekend, I offered the family the opportunity of putting up Christmas decorations that weekend. It wasn't that I was eager to decorate. It's just that my practical side considered the available time. The kids flatly turned me down. They didn't care to decorate even one day early.

As it turned out, the kids didn't really care to decorate much at all. The younger two joined my wife and me part of the time, but they mostly preferred to watch a video. The older kids didn't bother to ascend from their basement habitations during the decorating festivities. Our children all seem to enjoy the Christmas decor, but this year they reminded me of the Little Red Hen's associates when it came to doing the work involved—a far cry from the days when seven bodies (many of them energetic young children) all tried to haphazardly jam ornaments on the tree simultaneously.

We put up two Christmas trees each year. Our living room ceiling is more than 12 feet tall. So we have a gorgeous 12-foot-tall tree in there. But the room is too small to host gift opening for our entire family. So we set up a second much smaller Christmas tree in the family room. We recently obtained a wall tree, which is only one half of a regular artificial tree so that it stands flat against a wall. Some of the children gnashed their teeth about that, but it takes up far less room so that we don't have to move furniture around.

Our decorating is limited to the two trees, a porcelain Nativity set, a few doorknob hangers, and a couple other odds and ends. I have never been one to put up outdoor lights. I tell the kids that they are welcome to enjoy the lights our neighbors graciously put up.

Our kids are somewhat flexible about some Christmas traditions, but they are very inflexible about others. In a post last year I described our tradition of giving each child a box of their favorite breakfast cereal on Christmas morning; a tradition we concocted long ago to make sure that family members ate breakfast before opening gifts. I recently asked the kids if they wanted their usual private cereal or if they would prefer that I make them a hot breakfast this year. I was shouted down for heresy. We will be doing cereal, as usual.

Another cherished tradition that will continue is our Christmas Eve dinner on the floor. Years ago we thought we'd try holding a dinner that would have been reminiscent of Passover dinners in the Jewish culture of Jesus' day. We're not Jewish so we didn't try to serve a kosher meal. But we got pita bread to imitate the unleavened bread, served dried fruits and nuts, and found a variety of other interesting fare. The main thing that intrigued the children was that we ate on the floor by candlelight.

Over the years our Christmas Eve dinners have turned to much more American fare that lacks any reasonable semblance of foods served in Palestine 2,000 years ago. But we still continue to hold dinner on the floor by candlelight. A lot of it is electric candlelight these days, simply for convenience and safety.

Not that this tradition is without challenges. We set up seats and TV trays for our aging widowed mothers whose joints find floor seating decreasingly tolerable. And since getting a dog two years ago we have had to figure out how to keep him away from the meal. We usually give him a nice meaty bone, which keeps him busy long enough for us to serve, dine, and clean up.

Another tradition that will stay for awhile longer was carried over from my childhood. Each Christmas we would draw a sibling's name for a gift exchange. Sibling gifts were presented and opened after dinner on Christmas Eve so that we had something to occupy us while we eagerly awaited Christmas morning.

This tradition evolved to family gift exchanges as my brothers and I began forming our own families. We eventually called it quits after a family discussion on the matter because we were all going home from the family gathering with more junk than we needed. I am probably still in hot water for making an insensitive comment about the proliferation of Christmas craft items generated by some of my craft-y and artistic sisters-in-law.

I'm not sure how much our kids care about our family's first Christmas tradition. The Christmas we were engaged my wife and I bought a heart shaped ornament. Every Christmas since then we have found some kind of unique ornament that features a heart. Each of these ornaments is labeled with the year. Perhaps this tradition will become more meaningful to our children in the future.

Our family Christmas traditions will evolve as our family dynamics change. Eventually our children will develop their own Christmas traditions as they form their own families. Maybe some of these traditions will stem from those they enjoyed while growing up.

Utah Politician Thinks He Knows How to Force Parents to Do the Government's Bidding

The problem with public education, thinks Aaron Osmond of the Utah Senate (R-South Jordan) is that schools can only assign homework to students and not directly to their parents (see KSL article). Osmond says that our system focuses too much on forcing students to be in school for certain periods of time rather than focusing on educational outcomes.

While Osmond certainly has a point, his proposed solution offers yet another Big Brother top-down approach to a broad cultural problem that Big Brother has played no small part in fostering. Why is it that when statist policies fail to produce desired results, statists always see the answer as more statism, more government control over individuals, more coercion, and less liberty?

Osmond's proposal would, among other things "require parents to attend parent-teacher conferences and agree to support children in completion of homework assignments." Never mind the fact that many experts dispute the value of most homework as it is actually assigned. (Education experts know what productive homework is, but despite extensive training, educators persist in overwhelmingly assigning unproductive homework, insisting that their assignments have value.)

The policy Osmond has proposed is rife with problems. For starters, it is based on a faulty understanding of why parents don't attend parent-teacher conferences and buys into the education system's "deeply seated assumptions about parental involvement" that conflict "with the views of many parents" (see 1994 Educational Leadership article).

Osmond, along with many educators, seems to perceive that the parents that most need to attend conferences are often those that don't attend. This thinking reveals "an assumption that one of the main reasons for involving parents is to remediate them. It is assumed that involved parents bring a body of knowledge about the purposes of schooling to match institutional knowledge. Unless they bring such knowledge to the school, they themselves are thought to need education in becoming legitimate participants."

But non-attending parents usually aren't uncaring. Rather, their "school experiences, economic and time constraints, and linguistic and cultural practices have produced a body of knowledge about school settings that frequently" differs dramatically from that of educators.

These parents often feel that their concerns continually go unheeded and unaddressed. They feel like the system treats them as subjects to be commanded rather than actual partners. Osmond's proposal would enhance rather than assuage this sentiment.

Many parents feel that they have little voice in their child's education, which is managed by a massive bureaucracy that passes out mandates left and right and commands what they and their children must do outside of school hours. (Incidentally, some teachers feel the same way.) Parents might be excused for seeing this as an admission that the school is insufficiently competent to provide instruction in a seven-hour day.

The education system often views such parental concerns and issues "as serious problems rather than valued knowledge." What parent wants to show up for conferences where she is treated as inferior and deficient?

Underperforming students are disproportionately concentrated in lower income families, which are themselves disproportionately single-parent families. Lower income parents struggle just to put food on the table and to put clothes on their kids. Many work two or more part-time jobs. These economic constraints often prevent attendance at school conferences and events, even if parents would like to be there. How will Osmond's proposal help these people?

We have a child that by some measures was ranked in the top 1% of students in the entire nation for his age group. His educational outcomes were spectacular. His younger brother has a number of challenges that will prevent him from ever aspiring to such lofty heights. Almost everything school-wise is a struggle. This son requires a great deal more parental involvement than did his older brother.

Osmond's proposal would presumably generously allow parents to customize their agreements with teachers on homework to address differing needs, as long as outcomes rise to the level of some bureaucratically mandated goal. But what about when our younger son simply can't do any more homework for mental health reasons? What happens when our son fails to reach the mandated standards despite our best efforts? Do we go to jail?

Nor is the fact that both my wife and I are well educated always help. Teachers usually expect students to do assignments in certain ways—ways that are not always clearly reflected in the associated textbook or on the teacher's blog site. I can help my child with his English paper or math assignment, but unless I have actually been in class with my child, I stand a very good chance of helping him magnificently mess up his homework because my method may not agree with his teacher's method. Thus, mandating that parents help their children with homework is not guaranteed to be very helpful and can actually be harmful to the proposal's stated goals.

Educators may also object to the expanded role that would come with Osmond's proposal as they add law enforcement and audit roles. Does anyone think that parents under this new mandate will not demand expanded conference opportunities including more evenings and weekends, professionally scheduled appointments, and the like? Will educator unions put up with this without demanding higher pay? Does anyone think that schools won't have to hire agents to police the parents?

Taking time to customize a homework plan with each teacher could consume copious time. It would certainly require more than the 60-180 seconds that teachers can generally afford in a face-to-face meeting with a parent during open conferences.

A junior high teacher could have as many as 150-200 sets of parents to meet with each term. Affording each set 10 minutes would require up to 80 hours (including meals and breaks), where teachers now spend about 10 hours. I know a family that had five children in junior high and high school simultaneously. Meeting with each of each child's teachers under such a paradigm (including travel) would have consumed all of the productive hours in a day, if the teachers could even manage to arrange consecutive appointments.

And what will Sen. Osmond propose to put teeth in his bill, since a law without consequences is no law at all? Fines? (Yeah, that will help those low income parents.) Jail time, as was proposed in one Michigan district in 2010? (Johnny, we had to put your mom in jail because she allowed you to be such a lousy student.) Home "visits" by government officials to "help" parents? (My Dad witnessed such visits while growing up in Nazi Germany.)

How would any of these coercive measures actually improve a child's education? And even if there was some such hope, how could the asserted positive results outweigh the predictable negative results? Good intentions do not compensate for harm caused by those intentions.

I am reminded of C.S. Lewis having written, "Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience."

Sen. Osmond needs to go back to school and discover the realities of why parents don't attend parent-teacher conferences. As it stands, his proposal hews to C.S. Lewis' gibe on "running about with fire extinguishers when there is a flood"

Osmond should ask senate leaders to repeatedly whack his fingers with a ruler until he gives up on trying to use coercion to improve educational outcomes. Senate leaders should put a stake in the heart of Osmond's proposal and bury it so deeply that it will never see the light of day. It is bad policy based on faulty assumptions and is designed to use the wrong tool to achieve its goals. Instead of interfering, government sometimes governs best when it gets out of the way.

White Friday

"No male baptisms today?" asked the kindly brother in charge of the font at the temple. I explained that my wife and I had come to handle only female baptisms and that I wanted to bring my school age sons to act as proxies for the male names that they had researched and cleared themselves (with help from Mom). This would necessitate coming when our boys were not in school.

"Ah," replied the brother. "Then bring your sons here the Friday after Thanksgiving. While the rest of the world is out there having Black Friday, we will be in here having White Friday." This, of course, was a reference to the clean white clothing worn when participating in temple ordinances.

So that is what we did. The same brother was handling the baptistery when my sons and I arrived. He recognized me and was pleased that we had accepted his invitation.

While nearby shopping venues were raucously thronged by bargain hunters seeking to prepare a Christmas cornucopia to be plunged into by revelers "quivering with desire and the ecstasy of unbridled avarice" (A Christmas Story), my boys experienced the quiet pleasure found in giving of themselves to serve others in the serenity of the temple.

How proud I am of my boys. How much more this experience will do for them and for their deceased kin than would the pursuit of any "craptastic item that we genuinely do not need" (Michael Lyons). How grateful I am for the temple workers that spent their day serving so that others might be blessed.

Black Friday, the Game

I won't be among the millions of shoppers hitting the stores on Black Friday (which is increasingly reaching forward into Thanksgiving Day). Many shoppers will exchange sleep for a chance to be among the first customers into stores and onto websites in search of holiday shopping Nirvana.

This Wall Street Journal article explains that the whole Black Friday marketing scheme is nothing more than "retail theater." But it is obvious that many shoppers love this kind of entertainment.

In the ancient days retailers sold most products at list prices. Discounts were used solely to clear unsold items from store shelves to make room for new inventory. While clearance sales still occur, the old pricing paradigm "began to change in the 1970s and 1980s, when a rash of store openings intensified competition and forced retailers to look for new ways to stand out."

Retailers began working with suppliers to list products at prices higher than their actual expected sales prices. To comply with trade regulations retailers kept a high price long enough to establish a base price before discounting to a secondary high price and then dropping to a "steeply discounted price," which was the true expected selling price. The fact that retailers managed to snag some shoppers at high markups made the practice legal. The idea was to generate shopper enthusiasm.

Retailers used to limit this tactic to a smaller subset of merchandise. But shoppers have responded so well that this methodology has expanded to the majority of retail offerings. Moreover, retailers jack prices up in the weeks before Thanksgiving to achieve even higher holiday discounts.

Despite all of the discounts, retailers end up selling most products at the same margin throughout the year and most shoppers end up paying the same prices throughout the year. List prices and discounts have both increased dramatically in recent years while actual sales prices have remained static. But retailers believe that shoppers will buy more under the discount sham.

Retailers also use loss leader sales, offering limited numbers of select products at a loss or a very low margin to entice shoppers on Black Friday. It is these kinds deals that result in shopping combat injuries, since shoppers know that supplies are limited. But the WSJ says that retailers engineer most of these "deals" with suppliers so that they still earn regular margins. Meaning that even the shoppers that get these deals aren't really getting that great of a deal.

Dear shoppers, you are the fish, the retailers are the fishermen, and the faux discounts they offer constitute the power bait that is so successfully employed to hook you. But you apparently like it.

Theater can only be enjoyed when the audience is willing to suspend their disbelief of the fantastical elements of the production. Everyone knows that list prices are a sham. Or, as the WSJ article puts it, retail prices have lost their integrity. But shoppers don't care. They like playing the game retailers are offering. They are willing to temporarily believe in the integrity of retail prices to feel like they have won the discount game.

Retailers can't opt out of this system. When J.C. Penney tried offering everyday honest pricing shoppers punished them for it. Penney now has a new CEO that is aggressively pursuing the faux pricing model. Shoppers are in essence telling retailers that they like the discount game so much that retailers that refuse to play will ultimately go out of business.

Many sports enthusiasts will be satisfied to watch football on Thanksgiving. The following day many shoppers will eagerly engage in the real contact sport of Black Friday shopping, not content to be mere spectators. They are excited to get on the game grid that retailers have spent months preparing. All I can say is, have fun and try not to kill anyone.

I Had It Easy Thanks to My Brothers

I had it easy as a kid. Oh, I had my full share of challenges. But when it came to dealing with my parents I had it pretty easy.

You see, I was the middle child; the third of five boys. Why is that important? Because my two older brothers took the brunt of the process my parents underwent as they learned to be parents. My older brothers were the guinea pigs. May they be blessed forever for reducing the heat on the rest of us.

My oldest brother is the chief operating officer of a multinational company. He was always the chief executive among us boys. He was decisive, focused, and determined. He prodigiously grasped statistics at a far younger age than is common. Brother #2 is a great salesman that somehow morphed into an executive. He could be very focused and could always accomplish what was important to him. But he approached everything else in life with a devil-give-a-care attitude. He could always have fun.

Mom and Dad said that they could send the two oldest boys outside to play and end up with two very different outcomes. Brother #1 would return three hours later with his clothes perfectly in order and no sign of dirt on his hands. But 15 minutes after Brother #2 went out he would return scraped up, covered with dirt, and with his clothes in tatters. But he was happy. He's still the only guy I know that has managed to break four pairs of skis in a single season.

As these two boys progressed through the ranks of boyhood, Mom and Dad got to experience opposite ends of the parenting spectrum. They expressed disappointment that Brother #1 sometimes failed to perform as well in school as they knew he was capable of doing. They were just happy that Brother #2 came home from school alive. His grades were a mess in subjects that he didn't think were important, but nothing Mom and Dad did seemed to be effective in changing that.

This worked out very well for me. By the time I hit the various stations of life that my bothers had already passed, Mom and Dad were numb. Before the numbness wore off another baby (now an architectural engineer) came along. Sometime later another baby (now a VP of marketing) joined our family. Since babies require a lot of attention and my parents were still breaking ground with my older brothers, I was often able to cruise under the parental radar.

This likely caused my parents to develop a distorted view of my rectitude. At my missionary farewell my mom said that of all of her boys I was most like Nephi, the righteous son of Lehi. She quickly added with faint praise, "Not that the older two were like Laman and Lemuel."

Having five children myself, I have seen my own parenting style change over the years. I too have learned much from my older children and have modified my approach with the younger children—sometimes to the chagrin of the older children who occasionally complain about my comparative leniency.

The fact is that I now know better which battles are worth fighting. And I'm older. And more tired (lazy?). And, by golly, it turns out that each of those five children requires a customized approach. Each is an individual. Some have special needs. And one is a girl who teaches me that my attempts to always treat her like one of the boys simply won't do.

My wife and I agree that our middle child, Son #3 is a genuinely good soul that just seems to want to do the right thing. He's very smart (he can do higher math) and talented (his piano skills far exceed mine), but he still sometimes struggles with grades. And he is still directionally challenged, as has been the case since he was tiny. But he is a good boy. Or could it be that my wife and I suffer from the same child #3 perception issue as my parents?

Yes, I know that Sons #1 and #2 had to do the rough work of breaking in my wife and me as parents and that our younger children are their beneficiaries. I understand this better than my children realize, thanks to my brothers who reduced my parents' focus on me so that I could constantly be thought of as a good boy.

The Value of Fiction

A number of years ago my analytic brained father told me that he didn't bother to read fiction. Why should something from someone else's imagination be of interest to him when there were so many interesting and important realities? After all, there is only so much time in life.

I never learned to share my father's disdain for fiction. I think that fiction serves important purposes beyond mere entertainment and escapism. Nor am I denigrating entertainment. It is an essential part of the human experience, but like dessert food, it is wisely kept in proper scope.

Good fiction enlightens and ennobles us. It is an important vehicle for conveying culture. Blogger Rob Parnell says, "We need stories to make us feel better about ourselves -- as human beings, as well as personalities. ...we need stories to help us make sense of life and the world around us." Parnell further explains:

"In real life, there are no beginnings and endings, just infinite sequences.

"You know how it is. You listen to the news. Everything is a segment, a teaser, a sample of every day life. Nothing makes sense because there's no structure.

"Without the confines that fiction offers us, we are drowning in a bewildering sea of actions and feelings and urges with no meaning.

"Stories 'frame' real life into manageable chunks that have tangibility, involvement and purpose, whether for us individually or as a race.

"Surely that's what we were placed on this earth to do!"

Very well, but can't nonfiction stories accomplish this as well as (or better than) fiction? We need a better 'story' than that to explain the purpose of fiction. Here's my shot at it.

Fiction is compelling because it allows us to explore beyond the narrow confines we place on our minds. When engaging reality we seek to frame new information within our current sociocultural strictures and developed prejudices, making the minimum possible allowances for growth. Fiction invites us to suspend these restraints to a greater degree, allowing us to more fully explore and experience our inner humanity. Even Jesus used fiction in teaching the gospel.

Nevertheless, I have horrifyingly found myself becoming increasingly like my father was with regard to fiction, in practice if not in meaning. I don't disregard the value of fiction; I simply find myself enjoying and reading it less and less. I usually have several reading projects ongoing simultaneously. But in recent years these have decreasingly included fiction, although, I feel that I have profited much from reading fiction in the past.

Fiction can be portrayed in other types of media than books. Last week I watched the local high school's production of West Side Story, mainly because friends were involved in the production. The drama teacher is one of my former Boy Scouts, neighbors were involved, and some of our son's friends played major roles. It was a grand performance that demonstrated great talent and much hard work. But I agree with another friend who said, "I loved the production but I hate the story. Always have."

I also recently saw the movie Ender's Game with some of the family. Unlike my family members, I had not read the 1985 book (or any of its sequels), or even the 1977 short story upon which the book was based. I had only a general idea of what it was about. I knew nothing of the lessons the story seeks to teach.

Andrew Lindsay does a decent job of discussing the movie. I thought the movie was great, although, it is intense, dark and brutal. It's not something I'd take my pre-teen to see without her having read the book. Harrison Ford (Col. Graff) and Asa Butterfield (Ender Wiggins) were very good together. I very much liked performances by Viola Davis (Maj. Anderson) and Ben Kingsley (Mazer Rackham), as well as a number of the younger actors. The small statured Moises Arias (Bonzo) was chillingly ruthless.

More than halfway through the movie I started to get a sense of the point the movie was driving toward. Or at least one of its major points. I wanted Ender and his team to win. But I also felt increasingly uncomfortable about the moral implications of where the story was headed. (The morality of using children in war had already been confronted.) Indeed the climax leads to an immediate gut punch that takes the wind out of your sails. This is followed up by a chance for redemption, which I understand is more fully explored in the story's sequels.

As I watched the movie, I lamentably sensed missing enriching back story elements that could have been filled by reading the book. Some transitions seemed too abrupt. This too would probably have been mitigated by reading the book.

After discussing this with my wife, she dug out both the short story and the novel. They are still sitting on my desk untouched, although, I can't for sure say why. Yes, life's been busy since she put the books there, but I have found time to read other material. Maybe I need to convince myself that reading the book would be of value.

To be frank, I'm one of those guys that has always had difficulty engaging in entertainment just for fun. I know of the research that demonstrates the necessity for humans to have fun. I generally have no problem with entertainment if the purpose is to benefit someone else. I'm not sure why I have difficulty internalizing the fact that I could better serve others if I occasionally took time to recreate. Just for fun.

Maybe I will pick up that book this weekend.

Is Comparing Our Children Really That Bad?

We compare our children with each other. Yes, I know that pretty much every expert in the world says that this is a bad thing for parents to do. But honestly, has there ever been a parent with more than one child that has avoided this much maligned activity?

Wait, it gets worse. We also compare our children with their cousins. Of course this is completely unfair. At least when we compare our own kids with each other we are comparing people that all share the same parents.

My kids would tell you otherwise. Especially the older ones. They know that their younger siblings have different parents than they had. The elder children occasionally make knowing remarks about how we never let them get away with thus-and-such behavior at that age. Sometimes they are bold enough to question our softened parenting tactics.

For the record, I agree with my older kids. My wife and I are not the same parents that we were a decade ago. Hopefully some of that is due to having grown in wisdom. The older children were the guinea pigs that helped us refine our skills. We are now somewhat better versed on which battles are worth fighting and when it is best to take a long rather than a short approach to a problem.

I also believe that it is impossible to parent each child equally and that it is imbecilic to attempt such. It sounds like trying to parent the way the old Soviet Union tried to run its government. Our children are different people with different personalities, needs, interests, capacities, etc. Each one requires a customized parenting approach.

Of course, I wouldn't completely rule out the possibility that being older and more worn out might have something to do with why we parent our younger children differently than how we parented their older siblings at the same age.

But wait. I wasn't writing a post about the evolution of parenting methods. I was writing about comparing children. Heck, we even compare our children with neighbor kids and people we don't even know. I don't know which expert came up with the sage counsel to strictly avoid comparing children, but it's an impossible and maybe even an idiotic standard. What real parent that is not in a vegetative state can live up to it?

We compare both the good and the bad. We try not to be too obvious about it. We mostly avoid the "Why can't you be more like your brother?" kind of thing. I think. But sometimes we think it to ourselves.

Or we gratefully sigh that at least our child is not like so-and-so. Who happens to be somebody else's child. Because making such a comparison might be a poorly veiled commentary on the other child's parents. And we wouldn't want to pass judgment on what rotten parents our child's sibling has.

Is it wrong to note that one child is deeply introspective and intelligent while another exudes musical performance capabilities? Or to recognize that our daughter's emotional responses differ significantly from those of her brothers? Or to acknowledge that our Asperger's child's pathway to adult kit requires a lot more assembly than most of his siblings' kits? Or to observe that one child looks more like his maternal grandfather than any of the others? Or to see that my twin nephews have distinct personalities and talents, although, they look similar?

Are not such comparisons the fodder for making parental decisions? Is it even possible to be an effective parent without drawing contrasts and observing correlations of this nature?

Self appointed experts continually warn us of the dark side of comparing a child's beauty or physical prowess with another. For the record, some of our kids were recently watching home movies from when our family was younger, and, doggone it, each of our kids has been beautiful. In fact, they are all beautiful today. It's the truth. Although, I might be biased.

When I compare my children with each other or with others, I am usually simply recognizing the fact that each child is an individual. One son made it through basic piano, but he will never command the keyboard like his brother. So what? That's not where his capacities and interests lie. It's not something to fret about. It's an opportunity for further exploration.

Now that we've established that comparing children is not the dark evil that bad-mouthing psychologists and pseudo-psychologists have spent decades making it out to be, maybe it's OK to ask why my children can't be more like their cousin who is a dentist, or their cousin who is pursuing a full-ride chemistry PhD at a top flight university, or ....