The Mental Virtues

Thank you, David Brooks, for this piece. I need a sort of framework on (workplace) virtues that embody my idea of strength of character. Thank God there's nothing here about picking up rubbish, following traffic rules and wearing the right shoes.

"We all know what makes for good character in soldiers. We’ve seen the movies about heroes who display courage, loyalty and coolness under fire. But what about somebody who sits in front of a keyboard all day? Is it possible to display and cultivate character if you are just an information age office jockey, alone with a memo or your computer?

Of course it is. Even if you are alone in your office, you are thinking. Thinking well under a barrage of information may be a different sort of moral challenge than fighting well under a hail of bullets, but it’s a character challenge nonetheless.

In their 2007 book, “Intellectual Virtues,” Robert C. Roberts of Baylor University and W. Jay Wood of Wheaton College list some of the cerebral virtues. We can all grade ourselves on how good we are at each of them.

First, there is love of learning. Some people are just more ardently curious than others, either by cultivation or by nature.

Second, there is courage. The obvious form of intellectual courage is the willingness to hold unpopular views. But the subtler form is knowing how much risk to take in jumping to conclusions. The reckless thinker takes a few pieces of information and leaps to some faraway conspiracy theory. The perfectionist, on the other hand, is unwilling to put anything out there except under ideal conditions for fear that she could be wrong. Intellectual courage is self-regulation, Roberts and Wood argue, knowing when to be daring and when to be cautious. The philosopher Thomas Kuhn pointed out that scientists often simply ignore facts that don’t fit with their existing paradigms, but an intellectually courageous person is willing to look at things that are surprisingly hard to look at.

Third, there is firmness. You don’t want to be a person who surrenders his beliefs at the slightest whiff of opposition. On the other hand, you don’t want to hold dogmatically to a belief against all evidence. The median point between flaccidity and rigidity is the virtue of firmness. The firm believer can build a steady worldview on solid timbers but still delight in new information. She can gracefully adjust the strength of her conviction to the strength of the evidence. Firmness is a quality of mental agility.

Fourth, there is humility, which is not letting your own desire for status get in the way of accuracy. The humble person fights against vanity and self-importance. He’s not writing those sentences people write to make themselves seem smart; he’s not thinking of himself much at all. The humble researcher doesn’t become arrogant toward his subject, assuming he has mastered it. Such a person is open to learning from anyone at any stage in life.

Fifth, there is autonomy. You don’t want to be a person who slavishly adopts whatever opinion your teacher or some author gives you. On the other hand, you don’t want to reject all guidance from people who know what they are talking about. Autonomy is the median of knowing when to bow to authority and when not to, when to follow a role model and when not to, when to adhere to tradition and when not to.

Finally, there is generosity. This virtue starts with the willingness to share knowledge and give others credit. But it also means hearing others as they would like to be heard, looking for what each person has to teach and not looking to triumphantly pounce upon their errors.

We all probably excel at some of these virtues and are deficient in others. But I’m struck by how much of the mainstream literature on decision-making treats the mind as some disembodied organ that can be programed like a computer.

In fact, the mind is embedded in human nature, and very often thinking well means pushing against the grain of our nature — against vanity, against laziness, against the desire for certainty, against the desire to avoid painful truths. Good thinking isn’t just adopting the right technique. It’s a moral enterprise and requires good character, the ability to go against our lesser impulses for the sake of our higher ones.

Montaigne once wrote that “We can be knowledgeable with other men’s knowledge, but we can’t be wise with other men’s wisdom.” That’s because wisdom isn’t a body of information. It’s the moral quality of knowing how to handle your own limitations. Warren Buffett made a similar point in his own sphere, “Investing is not a game where the guy with the 160 I.Q. beats the guy with the 130 I.Q. Once you have ordinary intelligence, what you need is the temperament to control the urges that get other people into trouble.”

Character tests are pervasive even in modern everyday life. It’s possible to be heroic if you’re just sitting alone in your office. It just doesn’t make for a good movie."

"A real leader is somebody who can help us overcome the limitations of our own individual laziness and selfishness and weakness and fear and get us to do better things than we can get ourselves to do on our own."

- David Foster Wallace

Anthony's Vietnam

Even before having set foot in it, I have already decided that Vietnam is one damn cool place.  Anthony Bourdain made that decision for me long time ago when he declared in No Reservations his love for Vietnam (particularly Saigon) and how he feels so connected to the place. And I’m the one who believes everything Anthony says because he’s the coolest traveler in my book.

So you could say that the main reason why I wanted to visit Vietnam was to see for myself how a tiny Southeast Asian country found a special place in Anthony’s Ramones-loving heart.  Well, I have some theories.  For one, the Vietnamese, I think, are one of the world’s most kick-ass people (Anthony loves kick-ass).  They’re fighters and survivors.  Just look at how they’re standing up against Chinese intimidation in the West Phil Sea! And they’re so spunky they require visa for their colonial masters of yore (Americans and French).

Then of course there’s the FOOD! The food is sooo right in every way (the coffee though was, surprisingly, a disappointment).  You realize just by walking the city streets dotted with ambulant vendors that there’s infinitely more to Vietnamese food than the more well-known exports banh mi and pho.  The food culture is unapologetic and authentic.  It doesn’t try to suit your western preferences and expectations.  It is what it is, so grab a stool in some suspicious looking alley and eat your pho. 

Authenticity.  That’s the vibe of this city. You feel it even in those parts that have been gentrified. It’s Quiapo and Greenbelt co-existing in District 1.  There are kids in house clothes playing right along the frontage of some posh boutique (I think it was in Rex Hotel?) while their father sells kitsch nearby.   In fact, right beside that posh store is a general merchandise stall, the kind you see in Divi. I can’t imagine that happening in Ayala 6750.   

One of the things that usually strike me in most foreign cities is that you don’t see a lot of policemen and store guards around, sometimes not even one. In Saigon, I didn’t notice guards in the stores but I saw a few policemen (or were they military?) who all seemed to look not older than 25. They also slouched.  And so even if they wore a stern communist uniform, they looked like they can’t even intimidate a kitten (what more a city mouse Pinoy?).  

Marvin badgered me to rent a motorbike to see more parts of the city.  I wasn’t really up to it at first because I felt that that was too much of an adventure for parents with kids waiting back home.  You can’t blame me because in Manila, riding a motorbike in the city feels like a rogue adventure.  But I’m glad I gave in to Marvin’s badgering because the motorbike was the best part of the trip.  It wasn’t as scary as I imagined it would be because the streets were filled with mostly just motorbikes. The streets are not like EDSA brimming with bully buses, egotistic cars and rascal jeepneys. And, the concept of lurking traffic officers and traffic violations seems lost on this city.  Might be wrong but that’s how it felt. So it was fun!

Then there’s the seeming Vietnamese penchant for the narrow and tight: the traditional dress (Ao dai) is long and tight; the houses in the city are tall and skinny (I later learned that this design was tax-induced);   vendors can do their stuff (cook and sell) in a space no bigger than a circle with a diameter the length of an outstretched arm.  I mean, those Cu Chi tunnels weren’t made by claustrophobics!  And look at the shape of Vietnam on the map -it’s long and narrow (They got shabby and took away some coastal parts from Cambodia). 

For someone who doesn’t get Anthony, it’s probably hard to see what makes Vietnam so endearing to him. It’s not culturally glamorous, hygiene is questionable in some foodie spots, people are not really as warm as Pinoys… But I’ve seen enough of Anthony’s shows to understand what he likes about a place or an experience.   Vietnam doesn’t play bull.   The Vietnamese know who they are as a people and don’t apologize for it.  And it shows.  Spunk is cool.

Look Ma, no pesky jeep (only bikes :)

i wish we have a park as lush as this right smack in the metro

taken at a public toilet. leave your footwear, or else....

food. it's all about FOOD

breakfast scene

night life in Pham Ngu Lao district

Hey, Jollibee!

District 7 //not your idea of HCM

That's the Rex Hotel I was telling you about

"I think that, to some degree, this is part of my character as a designer: To keep moving and not get stuck in my own past. This is what I try very hard to do.

I think at that moment in my life, I found a peculiar path: To continually discard a lot of the things that I knew how to do in favor of finding out what I didn’t. I think this is the way you stay alive professionally." 

                                                                                                              - Milton Glaser

Summer 2014 (also, The Secret Life of Walter Mitty)

The summer of 2014 just whizzed by. I wasn't into it (meaning not doing the usual summer vacation stuff) until May came around. I feel guilty for not getting the kids into any summer class. not that they were complaining. I even suspect they liked it that way because they are not really fond of schedules and structured play.  But I guess summer isn't supposed to just go by without the kids learning a new skill.

Well, I forced them to try skateboarding. All because of Walter Mitty, which I watched on the 16-hr flight from UAE to Brazil (and again on the home bound flight). That movie saved me from my anxieties about my then upcoming Brazil talk (in particular, and maybe a little about life in general, too). You see, I have this above normal fear of public speaking and I was feeling so anxious days leading to the trip.

For some reason, Walter Mitty calmed my fears. I can't exactly explain how and why.  It was probably about perspective - a realization that I had nothing to lose even if the talk tanked (thankfully it didnt) because it was all part of an adventure. And what is life but a series of adventures. If you're not having any, then I guess that's pathetic. The purpose of life is to live it. To go out there. To pursue things that matter to you. To give it a go and give it your best while you're at it.  Which was what I believed I was doing.

And that was a liberating thought.

Maybe it was the soundtrack. Or the landscape of Iceland. Or Sean Penn's character. Or Kristin Wiig singing Major Tom.  Maybe it was the motto of Life magazine which was engraved in walter's wallet:

“To see the world, things dangerous to come to, to see behind walls, draw closer, to find each other and to feel. That is the purpose of life.”

So. Back to the skateboard (I got sidetracked there a bit).   I got the boys a skateboard in Dubai where we had a quick stopover from Brazil. I was hoping they'd love it and be great at it. Because after watching Walter Mitty, I have come to think of skateboarding as a life skill, similar to swimming. For example, if you need to run away from an exploding volcano in Iceland and there are no cars around, you'd thank God that you have a longboard which you actually know how to ride (but don't quote me on that, ok?)

So I was telling the kids to learn it and they did practice a lot. But after three weeks, they weren't really progressing. So I looked for skateboarding classes but couldn't find one. Maybe it's because you're supposed to learn skateboarding in your neighborhood, with your friends, by just riding on that board every day until you get it. Like how you learn riding a bike. There is no summer class for learning to ride a bike.   So, the skateboard eventually got forgotten and they're back to riding their bikes.  Which is also a lifeskill anyway.

Aside from the skateboarding, I also wanted them to see and appreciate artworks (and not just Adventure Time and other cartoon shows which can be argued as a form of art too). So I brought them to Pinto Art Museum in Antipolo. Thank God for people who build a charming place like that, for people who make art a little bit more accessible and less intimidating for folks who can only think of Amorsolo as just a street in Makati. I like the art pieces on display, but I think I liked the landscaping of the place more. It had a rustic and organic feel.  Plants were allowed to crawl, grow lush and stray. My kind of garden and my kind of place.  Don't ask me though if the boys enjoyed it as much as I did.

Our only true summer getaway this year though was Pico de Loro. I like that place. I like any place where the mountains meet the sea. And I like Nasugbu in particular.  We all in the family do.  I'm glad  we were able to make a trip to the beach just before school started . Because a summer vacation without a beach trip is doomed to become one of childhood's greatest infamies.

So I guess Summer 2014 wasn't bad at all.

Indoor rock climbing

Mountain Dew skateboard park

I see ferns // Pinto Art

With Lola

This has to be my favorite piece in Pinto

I wish this was our backyard // Pinto Art

Doesn't he look like Ezra?

One of the paintings I liked. I forgot the name of the artist. 

The chapel in Pinto

We just had to take a picture in front of the Kaybiang Tunnel. Where I come from, a tunnel is a novelty.

My favorite people in the world

One of the many uses of a Coleman chiller

If all days in the summer were spent here and if not for the unrelenting heat, we'd love for Summer to stay.

 

A pink late afternoon

I could wake up to this view every day

The banca reminds me of my little town in S. Leyte

Brazil!

Marvin and I went to Brazil in April this year, our first time in South America (!).  It was also my first time to speak in front of a big (400pax) audience.  Both turned out to be a wonderful experience. 

Our first stop in Brazil was Brasilia for an official business (mine). We arrived at nighttime, and we were able to get a good view of the city lights from the runway. Yup, the runway. The airport is super close to the city and sits on higher ground. There are no tall buildings around to block the view. (We later learned that there used to be a regulation prohibiting construction of a building higher than the National Congress.)


In the morning, the first thing we noticed was how brilliant the sky looked.  It's not only because it was a clear and sunny day. It was more because the sky looked so near I could almost touch it.  I live in a tropical country and I'm no stranger to sunny skies. But Brasilia's sky was distinctly beautiful.

Brasilia is a planned and a fairly new city (just 50 plus year old). With its brutalist and modernist architecture and, perhaps, being the seat of the federal government, the city reminds me of Hunger Games's the Capitol.  The famed structures (mostly designed by Oscar Niemeyer) look striking from afar but up close, old and rugged. Well, that's probably how it is with brutalist architecture. Pretty is not the point.

I think Quezon City and Brasilia were developed around the same time (I don't care googling anymore) and with more or less the same idea behind.  Fifty years later, Brasilia feels like it hasn't changed much (still sleepy, orderly) while QC has become a mega, highly urbanized city (for good or bad).  I hope QC stood a bit more still. 

Then there's Rio de Janeiro.

Who wouldn't fall in love with a city like this? The ocean, a lagoon, and a forest all within kicking distance

That city is just so charming without even trying. How did those Cariocas get so lucky living in a city with mile-long beaches, coastal mountains, rainforest and lagoon?

I love the vibe of that city, particularly in the Zona Sul where Copacabana lies which was where we were staying.  People don't seem to care and don't seem so caught up in made-up looks and brands. You can strut your stuff in the grocery without a shirt on and people won't take a second at look you. You do your thing: stick to your '80s fashion sense, french kiss with tongues out, dance like you're in the privacy of your own room - they're cool with that and you won't feel like an outcast.  It would take extreme weirdness and crappiness to be an outcast or uncool in that city.

The city is so liberating in that way.  You get the feeling that people just know that life is too short to be fussing over the small things and to not be spending that much time in the beach. The cariocas are truly a different breed.

Also, I only saw one McDonald's and one Starbucks in Rio (they only have 2). I didn't see any American or European high street clothing brand shops, even in the most touristy districts of Copacobana and Ipanema.

They are fiercely Brazilian to the core, and they speak no English.

Which is the sad part. Commuting is a challenge because it's hard to ask for directions. An English-speaking Brazilian is rarer than a Filipino who doesn't sing. We were kinda lost on our way back from the Maracana Stadium (which is on the other far side of Rio), and we were taking the subway. There were no English directions anywhere, the PA system announced everything in Portuguese (with no translations).

I was asking for directions from our seatmates in the train but they all spoke no English.  When we got to a certain station, it seemed like everyone was getting off so we alighted the train as well.  We didn't know which platform to go to after and we found ourselves again helplessly asking for directions. Luckily,  a girl in goth attire came up and volunteered to go with us since she was also going to Copacobana to meet her boyfriend. And coincidence of coincidences, she happened to stay with a Filipino family for 6 months in London where she learned to speak English.  Filipinos are everywhere and it's a good thing!

One of my favorite things about our stay in Rio was our quaint little apartment in Copacabana. It was on the roofdeck of a '70s era 8-storey building, with mostly doctor's clinics on all floors. From the kitchen with a cool retractable roof, we had a good view of the Cristo Redentor.  I loved having our breakfast there. There was a park in front of it, and instead of a children's playground, it had a senior citizens' outdoor exercise equipment area.  The park was filled with old people playing chess and reading the newspapers. Rio, and even Brasilia, have these ubiquitous magazine stands (selling as in glossy magazines and not just tabloids) almost every corner. And bakeries and fresh juice stands every other block or so.

There was also a church in front of the park, which we didn't immediately notice because it was a typical building and did not resemble a cathedral.  Unlike in the European cities I've been to, Rio's Catholic churches are still filled with churchgoers. It was a Palm Sunday when we were there, and you'd see all these people (young and old alike) holding palm leaves.  There was also a farmers' market in the park - Hallelujah - which is exactly one of the things I like going to in my travels.  The apartment was just spot on!

Of course we also visited the Corcovado (where Cristo Redentor stands) and the Sugarloaf mountains. Anyone would love them, I think. Rio looks even more beautiful from those sites.  And when we  were there atop those mountains, I kept thinking: How come my Manila isn't like this. How come the sky is not this blue in my city. How come our streets and bays don't look as good as theirs when it should have been easy.

I really was filled with envy.  I didn't feel that in the European cities I've been to because I expect them to be beautiful because they're first world countries. I didn't feel that in Singapore because everything there feels contrived. But when I see a city in a country that is still not exactly rich in economic terms, and that doesn't even look like it's trying hard, I feel envy. Because in Rio I saw what we could have been but aren't for some strange reason (like our city's penchant for hideous temporary road barriers and unkempt sidewalks).

My hometown, Maasin, to me looks like a tiny and a lot less pretty version of Rio. It is in a coastal mountain, too. But its eyes are on Manila, so I don't know how it's going to end up looking in a few years.  I think our newer cities should be looking beyond Manila and Cebu for inspiration and model.  I think our cities could all take inspiration from these Latin American cities. 

I think we should all go to Rio.

my first glimpse of Brasilia in daylight

A tribute to the guy who envisioned Brasilia (no, I don't mean Marvin)

 

Cathedral of Brasilia

Inside the Cathedral

The congress

Rows of government offices

Touch down Rio

Love at first sight/sigh

The park and The Cristo // The apartment couldn't be more perfect

Caught the sunrise in Copacobana. Intense

Ecstatic!

This is how you do restrooms along beaches. No hideous portalets in sight

Tram ride to Cristo

Getting there

I'll ask someone to photoshop this. Love the photo still

Panoramic view

Must be love

There's the senior citizen park! Let's have one over here

View from Sugarloan (Pan de Acucar) Mountain

Still atop Pao de Acucar

I'm in love with the retractable roof

What we stepped out into from our apartment early Sunday morning...

And then there's the Ipanema

As citizens of an archipelago, all Filipinos should be entitled to a clean public city beach like this.

Palm leaves looking freshly plucked from the tree

Around our street

Saw a live bossa nova show in Vinicius Bar.  This lady is Maria Creuza and she's a fairly popular singer in Brazil. I hope she didn't catch me fighting off sleep and failing during her show.

That's the building where the apartment is. See that roofdeck?

Uhm. Apparently, I got into business class. (secretly screaming in glee)