More of a change than a comment, but, as I’ve said before, if you’re looking for a blog with strict adherence to the rules, keep looking …
Just noticed today that they’ve changed the packaging for my underarm deodorant. Again. Although there was more than enough room for both pieces of information, the packaging now proudly, if minutely, states that the deodorant is vegan instead of how to properly dispose of the empty bottle. Yes, if we want to guarantee a sustainable future (apart from refraining from changing the product packaging every six months of course), informing the consumer that they are not rubbing a dead rodent on their armpits must rank right up there. With or without extra cheese …
A minor miracle occurred here recently at the University of Not-Bielefeld. No, no. Admin is still here in all its full glory. (Changing that would require a major miracle and you would not believe the amount of paperwork involved to get miracles on that scale approved nowadays. Much, much easier a few centuries ago.) Instead, someone merely stopped to question whether or not a specific form was actually serving its stated purpose.
The form in question (or the questionable form) comes from the central Equal-Opportunties Office of the university and is designed to increase the proportion of women in the university workplace. Just how it does this by collecting statistics about the hiring process (e.g., what type of position, where it was advertised, how many male / female applicants / invitees / selectors, …) remains somewhat of a mystery. Even more mysterious, however (cf. minor miracle / thinking), was that the Equal-Opportunities Officer of the Faculty of Science decided to send round a questionnaire some months ago to ask if the form was actually doing that.
All told, the feedback from the 40-odd percent of professors in the faculty who responded was nothing short of unambiguous. (And academics don’t tend to agree about anything.) Nearly three-quarters of them said that don’t like the form and even more thought that it did nothing to improve equality within the University. The selected comments that were published echoed this view, with the consensus pretty much adapting the slogan of the NRA to say that “forms don’t hire people, people hire people.”
And, thinking about it, it’s really hard to see how this form can have any influence whatsoever on the hiring process. I already mentioned that it’s more about statistics than anything else. For another thing, it’s filled out pretty much after the entire process is finished and is part of the requisite paperwork to get the chosen person appointed. Finally, the survey revealed that the form is filled out in about one-third of all cases by secretaries who play absolutely no active role in the selection process whatsoever.
Now, despite all this and the double supermajority on the part of the profs against the form, it appears that it will remain because of a simple veto.
In publishing the results of the survey, a statement from the university’s central Equal-Opportunities Office was included indicating that it requires the form for its own statistics (surprise) together with the promise that it will also indicate later how the form does indeed promote equality at the University.
You would have thought that all this would have been done with the blessing of the central office or at least that they would have been consulted beforehand to see if it would even be worthwhile. More to the point, how complicated can the explanation possibly be that it couldn’t have been included directly in the e-mail? I’m sure that most of us could have held the extra half hour out.
As such, the whole incident was admin through and through in the end, with the survey amounting to nothing more than another useless form for us to fill out …
Going a little bit controversial on this one probably. But then, “live by the pen, die by the sword” has pretty much been a constant throughout human history, now hasn’t it?
At the outset, however, I want to point out that this entry has less to do with the question of animal rights per se as to the sometimes haphazard, “idiosyncratic” way that admin deals with them. I also want to stress that I am all in favour of animal rights (although, as a left-hander, I find the concept of “rights” to be terminologically exclusionary, if not morally offensive in this day and age). However, I’m also pragmatic about the entire issue as well. Every day, untold numbers of animals (and plants) are eaten by untold numbers of other animals (and plants). And, if you want to get really creepy about it, there are numerous cases in nature where animals (and plants) actively manipulate other animals for their own benefit and with little to no regard for the other animal.
(Need an example? One of the intermediate stages in the life cycle of the Lancet Liver Fluke, Dicrocoelium dendriticum, changes the behaviour of the ants that it infects as intermediate hosts so that instead of these ants spending their evenings in front of the colony TV like they normally would, they climb up blades of grass to spend the night there. This does absolutely nothing for the ant except to increase its chances of being eaten by some grazing animal, the final host of the fluke. Even worse, if the ant is not eaten, it resumes its normal behaviour the next day before again perching on another blade of grass the next night. And on and on it goes until the ant finally does meet its untimely (i.e., nocturnal) end. And this is only one of several examples of animals being turned into zombies in nature. In that list, there’s even a fungus that does a similar trick to the ants …)
In any case, humans, as animals (not plants), belong to this cycle, with or without zombies. We simply have to re-learn to use as much of as few animals (and plants) as absolutely necessary and to minimize their suffering in the process. (And part of this process is realizing that a buck ninety nine for your favorite fast-food hamburger is unrealistic, if not downright unethical.) Not having been a dog owner for that long, I was quite surprised when I discovered that you can buy dried pig’s ears and noses for your favourite furball to munch on. What a great idea! They’re definitely not my first choices for parts of the pig to eat and compensate for those parts that are.
I try to apply this principle in teaching our undergrad comparative anatomy courses. (That principle being using as much of the animal as possible, not feeding the students pig’s ears or turning them into zombies. (Although the latter does occur by accident sometimes during my lectures.)) Students double up on specimens wherever possible (in non-corona times at least) and the only vertebrates they ever see are fish and rats. The fish are also not just any fish, but restaurant-grade rainbow trout that would otherwise be landing on some dinner plate here in the Not-Bielefeld Greater Metropolitan Area. That way the students not only learn something about fish / vertebrate anatomy, but can also take the filets home afterwards to see what their science tastes like. And the rats are only for the advanced course where there are far fewer students and, where possible, are the unwanted leftovers from the physiologists in the department.
Ok, so where is all this meandering background information heading?
Basically, to ensure the rights of the animals, there are a lot of protocols to adhere to in the University of Not-Bielefeld (and rightly so), whether for research or teaching purposes, and so a lot of forms to fill out. Cue admin (and wrongly so).
But, to paraphrase George Orwell, some animals are more equal than others. You see, only certain animals are subject to those protocols and paperwork. Those animals are basically any vertebrate (so the fish and the rats), but also any cephalopod (e.g., an octopus) or decapod crustacean (e.g., crabs or lobsters) because the latter two groups apparently can clearly sense pain as well as any vertebrate (see footnote 119 on page 163 here).
Naturally, setting any boundary for pain reception or sentience is incredibly gray (even that same footnote casts doubts on it being limited to those three groups), but the gray becomes even muddier when one realizes that it’s not just that only certain animals are subject to the protocols, but then also only under certain conditions. Remember the fish and the rats? We receive them in exactly the same deceased state, just that the fish come from a fish farm and the rats come from the University’s animal house. This difference, however, is enough so that, despite fish also being vertebrates, only the rats are subject to all the paperwork, red tape, and year-end reviews.
And those year-end reviews are sort of like the zombie ants: once you get infected by having done one, you have to keep filling them out year after year until you die. Seriously. For the past two years, we haven’t done the advanced comparative anatomy course because of the corona pandemic. Thus, no rats. Nevertheless, I still have to fill in the form to officially say “no rats”. And this year, this wasn’t even possible because the new version of the spreadsheet didn’t accept the number zero as a valid entry! Nevertheless, I was instructed that I still had to return the form after filling out all the relevant fields that I could.
Or, in other words, my name and address …
(However, to be absolutely accurate about this, I actually still have to return the form because the spreadsheet is in a forbidden file format and so my e-mail gets rejected by the University of Not-Bielefeld servers. Safety first everyone.)
Now, like the fish, these aren’t just any rats, but RATS. As in Émile-from-Ratatouille-style lardballs. You literally have to cut through layers upon layers of fat to see anything interesting. I foolishly once asked if it would be possible to get normal-sized rats and nearly fainted when I was told that it was. I then really fainted when I was informed how much additional paperwork this involved. You see, apparently maintaining normal-sized rats counts as animal experimentation (= paperwork) because doing so would mean not giving them access to food 24/7. For admin-types, this, together with the lack of exercise facilitated by their overly small cages (made even smaller by their overly large sizes), would seem to be a rat’s natural habitat out in the wild.
The fish-rat dichotomy also extends to birds. A few years back I had an undergrad student who was interested in sequencing the DNA of a group of birds to investigate their evolutionary history. Now, the easiest, least invasive way to sequence the DNA of a bird is from its blood and the easiest, least invasive way to get the blood is to remove almost any feather because some blood will remain at the tip of the shaft. Because this method is not non-invasive (but still the least invasive; a very invasive alternative being a venous puncture behind the eye), it counts as animal experimentation with all the requisite paperwork. (General rule: if the animal feels pain, you will too.)
But then comes the non-sequitur. This student was also a breeder who kept several different species from this group of birds at home, which is one of many in which the males and females are virtually impossible (for us) to distinguish from one another by just looking. The only sure-fire way to do it is to sequence their DNA by, you guessed it, plucking a few of their feathers. Now even though both questions use exactly the same methodology and provide exactly the same amount of pain to the bird, there is no paperwork involved at all in sequencing the DNA to determine a bird’s sex because this is a “breeding measure” and not animal experimentation. You can pluck the bird bald like a chicken to see what sex it has (even if bald birds barely breed), but the second you use one of those same feathers to answer another question, it’s an experiment.
It would thus appear that whereas a little bit of physical suffering is just fine for sex, for science it’s a different matter altogether. (Unless, of course, we’re talking about sex between two skinny rats.)
I know. Another corona blog entry. But, with the fourth wave pummeling Germany at the moment, the admin types can’t get up to their usual mischief and are busy focussing their creative energies surfing this current wave.
Now, Germany getting “pummeled” is really a relative thing. A friend from the UK wrote me a couple of days ago to ask how we were all coping and I simply responded that we were finally getting close to the same infection levels that they had been dealing with for ages now. I guess we’re just taking it more personally that a little bitty virus has outsmarted us again.
Ok, the rising infection levels are indeed something to worry about, but no one really seems to be worrying that much. Or that quickly.
The current rates are crushing those that we saw in the Spring, but the precautions aren’t. Back then, store entrances were literally guarded more securely and with more paperwork than the country’s borders. No test, no dice. (Or whatever it was that you were shopping for.) Now? Despite a couple of weeks of record numbers, restrictions are only just coming into force. Slowly …
So, a bit of vocabulary together with some Boolean logic about those restrictions first:
3G: vaccinated OR recovered OR tested
2G: vaccinated OR recovered
2G+: (vaccinated OR recovered) AND tested
As you can see, today’s restrictions are brought to you by the letter G. 3G is what we had in the Spring, just with a fancy new handle attached to it: only those people who are vaccinated, recovered, or tested can take part in whatever it is they want to do. (The Gs come from it all being in the past tense. Whereas English speakers add “ed” in such cases to the end of everything, German ones add “ge” to the front: ge-vaccinated, ge-recovered, and ge-tested. (Mock German, of course, uses both.) With 2G, testing no longer counts for anything, but returns with a vengeance for 2G+ insofar as you also have to be virus-free in addtion to being vaccinated or recovered.
(I’m hardly the first one to have noticed this, but in the case of 2G+, what exactly are the 2Gs bringing to the table if you have to be virus-free as well? The plus (or 1G, which no one outside of physics has yet to use, but wait for it …) is by far the most important safety criterion here because then there’s no virus about, regardless of how many other Gs you might or might not have. Instead, all the Gs are probably a not-so-subtle method to get people to immunize themselves (which is a good thing) without having to mandate it explicitly (which many would see as a bad thing).
The latter becomes even more apparent with the recent decision that getting your booster shot (or being “geboostered“, which looks a lot like mock German although it ain’t) is the equivalent of 2G+?! Except to admin types, this is obviously and patently absurd.)
Still with me? It gets worse …
Adding to the general confusion is the specific confusion associated with the official Corona Warning Levels here in northern Germany that automatically (and inversely) determine the relevant number of Gs to enforce: 0 = 3G, 1 = 2G, and 2 = 2G+. Now, assuming that these warning levels are sticking to whole numbers, we must, by default, always have had at least 3G in play. But, for most of the summer, nothing was enforced (which actually sounds a lot more like a warning level of zero to me) and 3G is only now coming into discussion even though we’ve only officially reached Warning Level 1 just last Wednesday.
(This could be because I strongly suspect that the meaning of the levels has changed sometime recently. I distinctly remember that, at one time, 3G would only come into effect when Warning Level 1 was reached. (Again, something that would give Level 0 some kind of intuitive meaning.))
And, to top it all off, it would seem that these warning levels are really only suggestions and that everyone can do what they please anyway. For instance, here in Not-Bielefeld, Warning Level 1 means that everything here is now “uniformly” either 3G or 2G depending on the type of activity, whether its inside or outside, the number of participants, and the current phase of the moon. The next little town over of Next-To-Not-Bielefeld? 2G+ across the board.
Even the University here in Not-Bielefeld is playing along in this game of shuffling your feet to your own rhythm and you can sense that the priority has shifted more to trying to keep the University and the classes open instead of trying to keep everyone alive. Here’s the timeline of “action”:
Start of the semester (Level 0): no restrictions
About three weeks later (still Level 0): 3G for some classes
Now (Level 1): 3G for all students and all staff
To be fair, the University was mostly following the provincial guidelines of the day and not of to-day. Interesting in all this is the “some classes” part of it. Again, following the current guidelines at the time, the 3G rule only needed be enforced for any gathering (class) with more than 25 people (students) because, as we all know, how infectious corona is depends on absolute numbers rather than density.
With the sudden, unexpected shift to Warning Level 1, everyone is praising the University for its quick response. (Well, not everyone. It’s mostly the University congratulating itself.) Although the coming 3G requirement for the workplace was already known a few days in advance and the wave could be seen heading to slam the shoreline for some weeks already, the University only sat down on the day of Warning Level 1 coming into effect to discuss how they were going to implement it. And, in the end, after one whole day’s worth of discussion where they burned the noontime oil from ten to four thirty, the solution that they came up with was to basically implement 3G in the workplace.
No. Seriously. That was it.
If you read through the flood of e-mails that followed for actual content, that was the take-home message. The President’s Office announced the measures, the Dean of Students repeated the measures, and, for good measure, the Faculty repeated the measures again. Oh, there was lots of other words too, like how any non-3G people caught on the University grounds would be charged with trespassing (seriously!), but what was sort of lacking was the actual implementation of it all.
The students were covered here. Since the start of the semester, the University had invested in an electronic registration system where the students could register their 3G status (and re-register and re-register for those who were only tested) should it ever become necessary. But, the system was (and still is) only for the students. Not for the staff and definitely not for the teaching staff even if they had to enter 3G-certified classrooms to instruct the 3G-certified students.
Instead, we get something better: good old-fashioned paper, beloved by German admin-types everywhere. Why extend a working system when you can create a new one?
Yup, documenting the 3G status of the staff has been delegated to their immediate supervisors who then get to fill out a paper form for each person in their care, each of which then gets sent on to the respective faculty. (And, again, presumably on a daily basis for those with the wrong G.) To date, the form is only available in German because of the inherent difficulty in translating field names like “Name”, “Birthday” (um, why?!), and “3G status” into English. Indeed, the form is so complex that it is divided into thoughtfully numbered sections starting with “1. 3G Status” and ending with “1. 3G Status”. (But at least it is devoid of any exclamation points, gratuitous or otherwise.)
Nevertheless (or perhaps, more accurately, unsurprisingly), questions abound …
For instance, who verifies my 3G status because, as a group leader, I really don’t have a supervisor. I also need to state the date each person’s vaccination or recovery is valid until. Are there any official values here? (Update over the weekend: officially nope, but the field remains.) Wouldn’t it just be more straightforward to provide the date when each was valid from so that the until can be calculated based on the accepted values of that day and phase of the moon?
And, of course, the big one: how is all this really supposed to be enforced for 10 000+ people?
The threat about trespassing is there, but, at the same time, there will be no entry checks into the buildings because “this is not necessary”. The 3G status of the students might be registered, but we as the teaching staff are not required to check it and, indeed can’t, probably because of privacy issues. Apparently, only the largest lectures are actively checked (again, remember, numbers, not density). For everything else the safeguards here are, and I’m not kidding, the mere act of the students registering themselves and the possibility of “further active controls” by the University.
Seriously? Is that all we’ve learned in nearly two years? A little bit of trust and a little bit more laziness to avoid any inconvenience? That’s sure to stop the pandemic dead in its tracks.
Data privacy is a big thing in Germany. Really big. For instance, Germans guard their PIN numbers with utmost ferocity, hunching over the keypad to such a degree that it’s a wonder that there’s even enough light to see which keys they’re actually pressing. However, in addition to being a repetitive redundancy, PIN numbers are actually extremely useless without mugging the person and taking away their bank card. (Which is something that I’ve actually told people who berate me for being “too close” when they are trying desperately to find the right numbers on the keypad.)
In fact, there are so many other possible examples of this degree of data-privacy paranoia, that you can almost be forgiven for thinking that the G in GDPR somehow stands for German …
But, trust the University here in Not-Bielefeld to ramp this whole issue up to the absurd. It’s not that data privacy is a bad thing, but more how the University is forcing it upon us, often to ridiculous extremes and extreme inconvenience. Their first action to once again save us from ourselves was when the use of Doodle was frowned upon some years back, with the Google Docs Editors suite finding its way into the crosshairs soon thereafter. Dropbox was also dropped somewhere along the way. Finally, enter the pandemic and exit video-conferencing tools like zoom or Skype. You’d almost swear that the University had something against the colour blue.
The official justification given for all this was data security: any personal data would not be going through any uncontrolled third-party servers subject to who knows what legislation, but would instead be hosted on the much more secure university servers via properly vetted software.
(I wouldn’t be surprised if the IT people at the University of Duisburg-Essen were thinking along the same lines right up until the cyberattack in November 2022 that utterly crippled the university’s entire IT infrastructure for months on end. You also have to remember that we’re talking about a university here where the entire printer network was hacked from the outside to spit out pages upon pages of nonsense. Whatever …)
In any case, we weren’t left completely hanging. Doodle became the very creatively named Stoodle, Google Docs and Dropbox became Nextcloud, and zoom & Co. became Big Blue Button. (Ok, so much for my conspiracy theory about the University hating the colour blue …) Unfortunately, in giving up those dreaded third-party servers, we’ve taken on mostly third-rate software. Whether you love or hate Google Docs, you have to admit that it works. Really, really well. Same for zoom. Big Blue Button and the secure university servers were simply not up to the task of hosting all the online teaching in the first wave of the pandemic. Some 18 months, a few updates, and a few waves later and it’s still touch-and-go. At a recent video conference in the University, it was recommended that only the moderator have their camera turned on so as to not bog down the system. You don’t hear this about zoom very often, now do you?
And, more to the point, I don’t hear all this happenning with any other universities. I’ve done my fair share of video conferencing in the past 18 months with more than a fair share of software (zoom, Skype, Microsoft Teams, Cisco Webex, …), but our university is the only one that I know of using something like Big Blue Button. And my collaborators from far and abroad are still happily sending me their Google Docs and Dropbox links.
Nevertheless, this is only the beginning. The silliness goes on …
As I found out a few days ago, we’re also not allowed to forward our work-related e-mails to any private, third-party e-mail address that we might have. Apparently, this is because of a lack of consent on the part of the sender to having their e-mail processed by anything other than the university’s servers.
What kind of sheer, unmitigated nonsense is this? (And will anyone dare to admit to having thought it up? (Sadly, the answer to that last question is probably “yes”.))
For pretty much every e-mail that I’ve ever sent, my only expectation in doing so was that it reaches the person that it was intended for. I never for the life of me realized that I was consenting to anything on top of that. (Consentual e-mailing. What a concept. And a pretty forgettable one at that, especially for the spammers …) The whole situation actually becomes really, really terrifying when I now think about just how many third-party servers all those e-mails went through to reach these people, all without my consent! (Just check all the hidden headers on any external e-mail you get and you’ll see what I mean.)
This whole line of argumentation is akin to saying that I can’t take a letter (remember those?) out of my mailbox because someone else might see it. In fact, if you follow the, ahem, logic underlying this consent argument, it would also mean that you can’t print out any work-related e-mails. (Definitely a no-go at home for my University.) Even worse: all the e-mails that I receive exist for only fractions of a second on the university servers before they are downloaded to my third-party laptop. Even if it’s an Apple laptop (or perhaps because of it because our IT department is lost if it ain’t a PC), that must be illegal too and yet another good reason to keep this blog anonymous.
More to the point: how much of all this information is actually useful, or indeed even vaguely interesting, to anyone else? What is some data pirate going to do with the knowledge that our annual Christmas party will take place on the 20th starting from 4 PM and that Jimmy, Sally, and Susie can’t make it? Hell, come and crash it for all I care. There’s three empty places after all.
But, I could be wrong here …
There was recently a successful phishing expedition at the University where a considerable number of people—despite explicit, incredibly gaudy warning labels attached to every external e-mail that are impossible to overlook—gave hackers all their login details. In fact, it apparently was considerable enough that the University forced everyone to reset their passwords to prevent the hackers from, and I quote, “gaining access to the scientific knowledge of the University”.
Scientific knowledge?
Looks folks, most hackers are not of the industrial-espionage sort and looking to steal our valuable data so as to publish them before we can. (If they are, again, go ahead for all I care. Let them deal with all the idiotic comments and brain-dead suggestions of that damn third reviewer. (Which, in this case, might turn out to be me come to think about it.)) For most of the University (and I readily include myself in that most), we’re not really talking about NASA, the Pentagon, or even Coca-Cola levels of research here. What state secrets can someone, say, in the Music Department possibly be hiding? A new note?
And for that small percentage of the University where we really might be talking about “for your eyes only” knowledge, you do have to wonder just how good it can possibly be coming from someone whose eyes missed a phishing attack with all the bells, whistles, and gaudy labels attached to it …
With admin continuing to lay low—which is really only a bad thing in the context of this blog—it’s become necessary to find other admin analogous activities to take cheap potshots at. So, welcome to the first, irregularly scheduled edition of the Bonehead Comment of the Day (BCD), where I pay “tribute” to some statement made by someone who simply should have known better.
(Ok, we all make misteaks. Believe me. I know this. (Personally. Painfully.) And I’m not looking to pick on anyone who’s just made an honest mistake (unless it’s a really funny one) and had something slip out of their mouth before their brain was fully awake and their mouth was fully closed. It’s really going to be for those cases where, like I said, the person just should have known better.)
So …
In a report today by CNN about the worsening corona situation in Europe, there was the following to be read at the end of the article:
German Health Minister Jens Spahn on Wednesday warned that stricter measures are needed for those who refuse to get vaccinated.
And, even better:
Spahn also told reporters at a press conference on Thursday that he was asked for his vaccination certificate in Rome during the G20 more often in one day than in Germany in four weeks.
Right …
Now if anyone in Germany would be responsible for getting those tighter measures and controls into place, it would be …?
The admin types have been awfully quiet this summer, leaving me with a dearth of material for my posts lately. Some, including some of my readers, might see this as a positive thing. I see it merely as the eye of the hurricane and fearfully await what new adventures they might be dreaming up.
In the meantime …
With the sudden excess of spare time to let my thoughts wander, they got lost on the idea of what a wine review would read like if it came from a dog. (I know, I know. Nothing whatsoever to do with admin. But, if you’re going to be enforcing rules like that, then you probably shouldn’t be reading this blog in the first place.) You know how most wine reviews refer to whether or not a wine has a “good nose” or what smells you can decant from it? Well, why not ask someone who has a good nose from the get go?
(Strangely enough, in googling this just now, it would seem that very few people have stumbled upon this same particular, if not downright peculiar, thought. This probably represents a warning of some kind …)
So, here’s an actual review of an actual wine (Fox Grove Shiraz Cabernet 2019; basically my writing aid at this actual moment) written by some actual person:
Soft and juicy, a delicious mix of blackcurrant and redcurrant fruits with a hint of herb combine on a medium bodied palate with silky smooth tannins and a good finish.
Enjoy with Beef, Lamb and Poultry dishes.
Now, what would a dog make of this very same wine? Lessee …
Vivid gray colour. Strong smell of shiraz and cabernet sauvignon grapes in a 68.6:31.4 ratio with an ethanol finish. Also black and red currant fruits. And cherry, red plum, citrus, and green peppers. Lots ‘n’ lots ‘n’ lots ‘n’ lots of berries: cranberry, strawberry, blackberry, gooseberry, blueberry, … Ooh! Is that cedar? Oak too! And eucalyptus! All great trees! Bit of tree resin there too, of course. Great stuff! Silky smooth tannins. Also getting tobacco, cigar boxes, and smoke. Little bit of leather, corroded metal, and blood too. Cinnamon? Yeah. Cocoa, coffee, caramel, and cloves. Carrot too, lightly caramelized. Can’t forget the tomato. Or the licorice, pepper (black and white), and menthol either. Finally, figs. Oh! And raisins. And prunes! And …
Goes well with food. Period. Extremely light on the palate, as if it wasn’t tasted at all. However, the subsequent burps revel in medium acidity combined with light, smooth tannic undertones. Enjoyed chasing both of my tails for five minutes after the first bowl.
(For those that are interested, these are most of the aromas human users have come up with for this wine on vivino.com. Or at least until I got bored reading the reviews.
I also realize fully well that dogs being colourblind is a myth. Fun fact #1: they can’t write English very well either. Fun fact #2: they are indeed colourblind to the extent that they can’t distinguish between red and green, just like a red-green colourblind human so my gray cliché ain’t that far from the mark in this case.)
Anyway …
Let’s all hope that those admin types get back to being productive very soon …
Whenever German admin wants to let you know that the substance of one of their communiques is non-negotiable, or to simply to add a little gravitas to lighten up their workday, they typically quote chapter and verse of the relevant law.
In many ways, the quote is a language unto itself, filled with all sorts of weird abbreviations and symbols. One of them is §, known more colloquially as the section sign. Apparently it’s commonly used in legal circles, but I’ve never really laid eyes on it before coming to Germany where it’s also commonly used by admin squares. (And, even though it’s a Czech book from the 1920s, the association of the symbol with admin was strong enough even back then such that Jaroslav Hašek repeatedly used § to mean “bureaucracy” or “red tape” in his unfinished six-volume novel The Good Soldier Švejk. Ah, the things you learn reading Wikipedia …) But the code continues beyond the § with all the abbreviations and numbers. For instance, in 1990, Germany finally enacted a law in the Civil Code (Bürgerliches Gesetzbuch) stating that animals are not objects or possessions and are protected by some basic rights. The proper, if obscure, citation for this law is § 90a BGBl. I S. 1762.
Ok, we in Academia employ our own weird, idiosyncratic citation methods too. But we at least provide the full reference at the end of our scribblings so as to leave out the guesswork. With admin, you just get the code without the Enigma machine. BGBl (AKA BGB) is easy because that one is cited a lot. But then there’s also BAnz AT, LVVO, VersTierMeldV, ArbSchG, BetrSichV, GefStoffV, and DGUV (these last four came once as one bundle) in addition to all the internal bylaws of the University here in Not-Bielefeld.
(I’ve always toyed with the idea of quoting some completely fictitious law in one of my responses to admin, if only to see if they’d swallow it on faith like we do with theirs. But, just toyed because I strongly suspect that they wouldn’t.)
But, believe it or not, there was a case recently where I’d actually wished that they had cited the relevant legal passage …
I’d had some work-related expenses that I wanted to have reimbursed from the University and, after some effort, finally found the appropriate form to do this. The form included an emphasized remark (remarkably in bold face andnot with an exclamation point) indicating that the process could only proceed if the receipts are pasted ordnungsgemäß to a sheet of A4 paper. (And not just any old piece of A4 paper, but a DIN-A4 piece of paper.)
Now ordnungsgemäß is a word that is probably peculiar to the German language. There certainly is no succinct equivalent in English, with the closest being “in accordance with regulations”, making this one of those few occasions when the German phrase is actually shorter than the English translation. In any case, I never knew that there were actual regulations about how to attach a receipt to a piece of paper. (But then, Wikipedia also just informed me that there are about 30 000 DIN standards in Germany so go figure.) If there ever was a time to quote the necessary regulations, this would be it! It’s not as if most of us have taken courses in German bureaucracy or anything where you learn important things like this. Admittedly, the form did helpfully add to please not use sellotape (although the use of the word “please” technically makes it a request, not forbidden), but this still leaves a lot of possibilities. Like glue. Or those photo corner thingies your grandparents used to stick prints into an album with. Maybe Blu Tack? Bubblegum in a pinch? Even just licking the back of the receipt would also work for a bit.
In the end, it was all moot because my receipt was a piece of A4 paper, but I still can’t help wondering if I should have nevertheless glued it (somehow) to a piece of A4 paper like the instructions demanded …
A painfully short time ago, I wrote about how the IT Department here at the University of Not-Bielefeld spent the better part of a coffee break designing a foolproof system to save its employees from themselves. Spam and phishing e-mails were multiplying exponentially to pandemic proportions so something desperate and drastic had to be done. And fast.
But, because things were not bad enough to resort to having people think for themselves, the solution was to include an extremely gaudy label heading up all e-mails originating from outside the University to warn people of this exceptionally malevolent fact and to advise them to generally be afraid. Be very afraid. Steve Jobs would be proud: cutting-edge security, intense creativity, and incredible design all in one.
Nevertheless …
I received an e-mail just the other day, ostensibly from the University’s IT Service Desk, with an important “Payroll Update Alert”. (Their capitals, not mine.) Although it was officially only an alert, the e-mail still instructed me to click on the link it contained so as to open an admittedly extremely well-done fake up of a University webpage where I could enter my University ID and password. All in less than 25 words (18 to be precise) and all in English. How many giveaways do you need?
Probably one more because that all-important, life-saving, gaudy warning banner was missing!
How did these cunning fiends manage to subvert the IT Department’s intricate security perimeter? Did they engage the services of REvil, the for-hire hacker group that has recently crippled numerous large firms in the US with their ransomware attacks and who suspiciously disappeared from the internet on the exact same day I received the phishing e-mail? (Some call it conincidence. I believe otherwise …) Was this some form of state-sponsored cyberterrorism that our IT Department would understandably be completely helpless against?
Nope, the phisherpeople simply lied …
Looking at the e-mail headers, it was immediately clear that the e-mail originated off-campus and, in coming from Manchester in the UK, outside of Europe as well. All the hackers did was to spoof a University of Not-Bielefeld e-mail address as their return address and the security system went for it. So much easier and cost-effective than trying to hack into a real University account if you think about it. Simply tell security that you’re with the company and then tell someone in the company to give you all their credentials and, et voilà! (although I suppose that “and, et voilá” is a bilingual repetitive redundancy), you have hacked your way into a real account before your 34th Diet Coke of the morning. Absolutely brilliant! (If not completely unstoppable.)
In the end, the irony is palatable. Our IT Department doesn’t trust employees at an Institute of Higher Learning to think, but it does trust hackers to tell the truth.
After a long, corona-induced abstinence, I recently had the necessity to take to the skies again. Which also meant that after a good six months of pretty much avoiding all forms of public transit, I also had to take a taxi, a streetcar, a train, and a bus all in short order. The last time I flew was at the start of the pandemic and the airports were ghost towns, but because of Business As Usual, this was no longer the case and I thought it would be interesting to look back and see what we’ve learned over the past 15 months.
(Again, there might be some debate as to whether this blog entry really deals with admin or not. Many of the decisions certainly look like they came from admin and I’m sure that admin had to sign off on most of them. So, we’ll call it a push and simply move on, which, as we shall see, can be very unwise these days.)
From the outside, it looked like things were being taken seriously. Online check-in was partially disabled insofar as one could check in, but the actual boarding cards could only be picked up at the airport counter after having presented a negative corona test that was taken in the last 48 hours. And, during boarding, we were all duly instructed to maintain social distancing for our own Comfort and Safety, which we all duly did in our little travel groups. (One of which comprised about 10 Chinese people in full hazmat suits.) The plane was also loaded from back to front to minimize interactions and jostling. (This is actually the way it should always be, at least for (German) efficiency reasons. But, for some reason, American airline companies like to board the planes from front to back and not just because the real paying customers are up front.)
From the inside, however, it was a different story and social distancing stopped at the door of the aircraft. Because the flight was full, my neighbours were as uncomfortably close to me as normal and there were no empty seats to be found except those purposely left empty in business class. Thanks to the pandemic, “social distancing” has somehow become yet another commodity for the airlines to sell for profit.
(But, I guess that blatant, desperate piece of commerce is especially important on those little tiny planes where the expensive perks of business class really only amount to metal utensils and glass cups. This essential lack of any difference was made painfully clear on this last flight, where the “barrier” between business and economy was a little curtain that could be clipped and unclipped to the overhead bins as need be. After we had all taken our seats, the cabin crew realized that they’d set the curtain one row too far back and so moved it up, causing one of the people who was now suddenly to be ignored behind the curtain to memorably quip “Gee! I guess we’re not in business class anymore.” (Yes! Not one, but two obscure Wizard of Oz references in the same sentence!))
After two hours of unsocial distancing, we were advised upon landing to remain seated because the plane would be progressively emptied by rows. Again, all for our Comfort and Safety. All good, if not a pleasant relief from the normal rugby scrum and flying elbows that usually ensue once the seatbelt light goes off. All good, that is, until we were all packed solid into the transit bus that took us to the terminal building. Comfortable? No. Safe? Definitely not as much as it could have been with a little more effort and thought. And, another bus …
(As an uncharacteristic aside, I’ve never understood why the airlines insist on maintaining their boarding procedure when there is a bus involved to take you to the plane. Seriously. What advantage do business-class passengers get through their “priority boarding” except to be first on the bus and thus last on the plane?)
The balance sheet? In looking back, the only real accommodations made for the pandemic during this whole process (apart from always having to wear our masks) were during boarding and leaving the plane. Everything else was pretty much as it always has been. Apparently, people become dangerously more infectious when they’re moving, something that Eurovision 2021 recently also made sure to account for. After a year’s hiatus, the cross-continental kitsch contest was back and with 3500 live, guaranteed corona-free spectators. As long as they were in their seats, these lucky few could go without masks (the pandemic’s equivalent of going topless, I suppose), but once they started moving around the arena, the masks went back on, even with those negative corona tests.
(In saying all this, let’s be absolutely clear about two things. First, I love Eurovision. Second, I have no time for anti-vaxxers or pandemic deniers. If these people want to shorten their lifespans by defending their right to not wear a mask or to not get vaccinated, that’s fine. Just don’t shorten mine and be sure to stay off the sidewalks when I defend my right to drive my car wherever I want. (Kudos to my dad for that last little bit of sarcasm.) The coronavirus is real and so is the pandemic and vaccination works. Period.)
And, given that common sense is unfortunately not so widely distributed as the name would suggest (on that bus ride to the airport, it happened not once, but twice that a person took the seat directly behind me on a virtually empty bus), we do need the authorities to help us along. I also understand why their responses to this once-in-a-lifetime pandemic tend to be of the seat-of-your-pants, we-really-don’t-know-what’s-going-on variety. But can’t there be a little bit more consistency? Or at least a little less lip service?
Just recently in the Spring of 2021, Germany resorted to an even harder hard lockdown in worst-hit places to combat the Third Wave of the pandemic. One of the measures included a curfew from 10 in the evening to 5 in the morning. No one was allowed out on the streets during this time except those who could prove that they were going to or from work or that it was some sort of emergency. Or (and, as always, I am not making this up) were simply jogging or out for a stroll, which everyone could do until midnight because, as we all know, these activities represent basic, unalienable human rights. (Although highly dangerous ones given the apparently increased infectivity of the coronavirus with movement.) Not sure if I could take my dog out for a pee during the curfew, even if it might represent an emergency to her, but I could presumably take her for a stroll around the block until midnight, albeit on a 1.5-m long leash.
Shopping is another case in point. All stores required masks and social distancing. Makes perfect sense. But, for some stores, that was it. Others, however, required any or all of a negative corona test not older than 24 hours or evidence of either a full vaccination or a full recovery from the virus. (And, considering that the slow rollout of the vaccine in Germany was partly to blame for the hard(er) lockdown, it was often a toss up if the second or third condition was the more likely of the two.) Still others required that you made out an appointment in advance on top of all this.
It’s not that these measures are necessarily bad. (Annoying, yes. Helpful, definitely.) It’s just how they were seemingly so randomly implemented. If the negative corona test was 25 hours old, your shopping options became limited. You could still board a plane and sit 1.5 cm away from someone for several hours, but you couldn’t come into many stores for even five minutes while staying 1.5 m away from everyone to buy those overpriced mini-toiletry items for your carry-on luggage. If the test was positive, it didn’t mean anything unless it was a PCR test, making you wonder just how safe all those negative results really are. Grocery stores, which are habitually full, only required masks. Clothing stores, which habitually are not, required everything. Electronic stores, somewhere in the middle.
(Now there are, of course, those who will argue that groceries, unlike clothes, represent a basic human need. Like jogging or strolling until midnight. However, except perhaps for some Walmartians, you can’t go shopping for food with just a mask on. Think about that.)
(Now try to unthink that …)
Masks are a must for everyone, except small children. But, as anyone who has had small children knows, kindergartens and grade schools are the real-world equivalent of Petri dishes for every form of disease, pestilence, and bodily fluid known to humanity. And, if there is any segment of society that actually enjoys wearing a mask, this is it. Just tell them that it’s all a game of cops ‘n’ robbers or secret agents or superheros or something and they’ll probably fall asleep at night still wearing the damn things.
The list, of course, goes on and on. Germany has thoughtfully provided a Corona Hotline for people to call. But only during working hours from Monday to Friday and then only until noon on Friday because we all know that no one gets infected outside of normal admin working times. Which, in turn, makes you question the effectiveness of the curfew because it clearly falls within those times when corona is not infectious. Even if you are moving at the time …
But, in the end, the flight did have a nice Throwback Thursday touch to it: real boarding cards! So, for those who are counting, that makes me old enough to remember them, but young enough to not be confused by their smart-phone equivalents.