Memo to Ira Glass: Ignorance Is Not Bliss!

The episode of This American Life broadcast today included a segment he told us was "not suitable for children." I've responded to this profoundedly wrongheaded "warning" with the following message:

How on Earth can you say that your story from Westword (about the man who wanted to kill the rapist from his childhood) is unsuitable for children?

Do you honestly believe it's better that children not be aware of how they might be victimized if they're not careful? How is that going to protect them? It will, to the contrary, leave them that much more vulnerable.

Were you concerned that the material might be too disturbing for children? That admittedly is a possibility worthy of consideration — although children are often able to handle (and already aware of) more than adults give them credit for. But if that was your concern, you should have said so plainly and not left it open to the other interpretation, which reinforces an appallingly irrational and misguided, if still too common, attitude.

Ignorance is not bliss. It is danger!

You can hear the program at http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/425/slow-to-react. You can write Glass at web@thislife.org.

Review: The Kings of Clonmel

Last spring, while I had a second job with the Census Bureau, I ordered a few books from Powell's , and with these I was sent their latest catalog. I noticed that one of the books listed, a novel for young readers, concerned a religious cult, and was curious as to how accurate and informative it might be on the issue of psychological manipulation. So I offered to write a review of it for the International Cultic Studies Association . I've now done so. Here it is:

Ranger’s Apprentice Book 8: The Kings of Clonmel by John Flanagan. New York: Philomel Books, 2010.

John Flanagan is a children’s fiction writer living in Australia, with a background in advertising. The central premise of this book, set in a fictionalized medieval Europe, is that a religious group is rapidly gaining influence and converts by covertly orchestrating acts of destruction and lawlessness, while publicly offering its god’s protection against these threats. The book is intended for young readers, and my interest as an ex-member was in seeing to what extent it provides them with an improved understanding of how cults work and how one can guard against them.

To a limited degree it does so, illustrating some of the ways perceptions and emotions can be shaped by stagecraft, but not the subtler and more psychologically invasive forms of manipulation. Similarly, it treats cultism as a matter only of deception, not self-deception, depicting the cult leader and his inner circle as conscious charlatans who believe in none of what they’re doing. Only the more recent converts are actual believers and, because they’ve been deceived purely by control of information rather than systematic ego destruction, it’s not too hard for the heroes to turn them against the cult once they’re in a position to expose its fraudulent practices.

Of course, when even much of the (real-world) adult population has no understanding of cults whatsoever, most juvenile readers will come away from this book with more understanding than they had before. And perhaps a psychologically deeper treatment would go over the heads of many. The most important lesson taught by The Kings of Clonmel may be that expressed by these words of a sage old woman who hasn’t gone in with the cult: “A god who brings you good and bad in equal amounts doesn’t ask for much. Maybe a prayer or two. Maybe the odd sacrifice of a beast. But a god who promises only good times? A god like that will always want something of you.” In other words, any offer that seems too good to be true not only probably isn’t, but also is likely to end up costing more than one counted on.

It's been accepted for publication and will be appearing in ICSA's magazine, ICSA Today.