The Three Rs: Review, Revise, Resubmit

Well, after just over a month, I've heard back from the editor of the professional journal that I submitted an article to. Your executive summary of the reviewers' feedback:

1. The research is useful and has publishable merit.
2. The paper is confusing and boring.
3. We should ditch many of the statistics, in favour of focussing on the clinical "take home" story.

I have to agree with all the feedback, truth be told, and am in fact encouraged because ultimately it would appear they are going to publish this article, albeit after significant tuning up work by myself and my co-authors. It will be great to finally have this published.

In other news, our dietician at work gave a 10 minute in-service training talk today on “Energy Balance”. This fairly self-evident (and yet elusive) concept is that change in your body weight (or really more important, percentage of body fat) is based simply and solely on the amount of energy you put in minus the amount of energy you expend. A kilo of body fat, like a kilo of any fat (saturated or unsaturated, butter or that “healthy” olive oil) contains 7,000 (k)calories. Alter your energy balance equation by 500 calories a day, and you'll loose a kilo every two weeks, the recommended way to loose weight. He tells us walking briskly for 20 minutes burns 200 calories... many days I walk 20 minutes to work, and 20 minutes home. Remove about a third of a chocolate bar from my diet and I've just reduced my energy equation to the point I should loose a kilo every two weeks. Uh-huh...

Lent has just started. Perhaps I should give up 500kcal a day for Lent?

Little Miss-Communication

Are internet communications more likely to be misunderstood than other mediums of dialogue? I've been the surprised onlooker over the last few days of a debate that flared up on tallskinnykiwi.com, the blog by Andrew Jones that I frequent from time to time. The debate itself related to gender discrimination, and whether or not it is acceptable to use the term “girls” to refer to young women. You can read a precursor post here and the post that lit the powderkeg here.

After a weekend being offline, Andrew has written an impressively humble reply that should give pause to his weekend critics, albeit well-meaning ones. One striking aspect of the dialogue over the weekend, however, was the constructions people placed on the non-response of Andrew on his own blog for a number of days. Within 15 hours of the “offending” entry being posted on the internet, someone leaving a comment on the blog referred to the fact that Andrew was yet to respond, implying he should have perhaps. (This was the 16th comment left on the entry by that stage.) At 26 hours it was suggested that the negative response should have been anticipated, and suggested that Andrew Jones' “almost revelling in the response worsens things.” Note that the basis for this attribution was a non-response, not any observable behaviour.

At 39 hours another person commenting wrote:

In fact, there was only one comment on Andrew's initial post that gently suggested his use of the term “girls” might be unsuitable, and while we don't know what email he got in the interim, recall again that he had not been online after posting his second entry... so, defensiveness?

None of this is a criticism of the people who left those comments — I think there is a more basic human behaviour at work here. The thing that captured my attention is the assumptions triggered by the sense of immediacy here... There seems to be something about electronic communications — blogs and txt, and to some extent email — that gives us the impression the other person is right there, right then. My belief that someone is imminently involved in the dialogue seems to mean that I then apply to these situations the interpretations I might apply to a verbal conversation — as if the other person had just stood there looking at me, and not responded. I think, “Why hasn't she replied to my txt? What does that mean?” Or in this case, “Why hasn't he replied to our comments on his blog?"

Admittedly, Andrew Jones posts regularly, and people might have expected him to be online most days. However, he also puts up new posts regularly, and the post generating the comments was the latest, so it was clear he hadn't updated the site. And there were moderate voices in the discussion. However, the discussion highlights the risk that mis-attributions of a person's unwillingness to respond may combine with the ease of keeping on sending further electronic communications that you can't take back, to generate some pain. Watch those mouse clicks, people! Meanwhile, may there's a research project in here for me, on social interpretations of immediacy and non-response in electronic communications.  : )

Happy Birthday Tim!

Happy Birthday greetings to my older brother Tim, who turns 31 today. I'm pleased to have him as my brother, and pleased to be able to say that we get on so much better than we did as kids. Nice. Thinking about it though, Tim must be much older than me, because otherwise if he's turning 31 this year, that means I'd be... Hmm. Moving on...

On Saturday afternoon we caught up with our friend Ness from Palmy days. She's been here in the UK since a little before us, though has spent most of that time in Scotland so we've seen her only intermittently. Up in Scotland she's been flatting with Jay, who also joined us for coffee. Well, the time has come for Ness to go home and as this goes to broadcast Ness will be just landing in Wellington. Ness, we'll miss you! Jay follows in the not too distant too, though taking a couple of months to get home versus Ness' direct flight. She's going to Gallipoli for Anzac Day, amongst other things. Every time I hear someone is doing this (more often than you might think) I wonder. Perhaps next year? Safe travels.

All this going home to New Zealand stimulates certain thought processes of course, and leads to discussions. We're happy here for now but are far from having forgotten where we're from. Existing plans continue to percolate, though nothing that should make parents get excited. We'll be here for a while yet.

Finally, birthday greetings as well to Hamish. Long time no talk. I must pick up that phone...

OurChurch™

Last night we arrived home from Berlin with fifteen minutes to spare prior to going to a church meeting. One issue our church is currently discussing is whether the name of the church should be changed. Last night this wasn't a primary point of discussion but it was clear there is more than one strongly held feeling about this in our church community. My contribution to the discussion was to voice my opinion that a church name should not be considered to be a theological issue, but one of branding. The name of a church should say something, albeit briefly, to people outside the church.

Ironic therefore to read Dave's post of February 18th today, about branding churches. Dave is skeptical of the approach of this site. At that site they describe their approach here, and, talking of the people their re-branding of your church will reach, say:

This is deeply offensive. This is not what I was meaning when I said that I thought church names should be about branding. There is a lot of negative reaction out there to branding in some Christian movements. I don't fully buy those arguments, but I'll have to join that camp today as I look at this site. Doing things professionally is one thing, but taking a mercenary approach to spirituality is another. It is God who draws people to himself, not our branding. Hgggn.

I've uploaded today delayed coverage of our trip to Berlin. The Saturday and Sunday entries were written in Berlin, but on an obscure technology called paper. The Monday entry was genuine live report-from-the-field in an internet cafe round the corner from Checkpoint Charlie. Tuesday and Wednesday were shamelessly written sitting in bed this morning.  : )  Further update: Have now also uploaded an entry from Bronwyn for Monday (nice to have her blogging again) and added some images scattered through the trip. Full travel album to follow, eventually!

Berlin-London

Rose a little more sharply today. Had another excellent complimentary breakfast at the hotel, of fruit juice, cereal and yoghurt, sausages, eggs (Bronwyn only), cold meats, cheese, bread, coffee (Duncan only), and, this being Germany, cake. We've not needed large lunches this week! Last minute change of plans as during breakfast it started to rain fairly consistently, with some sleet mixed in briefly too. Tiring of history and culture, we'd thought to go to the Zoo for the morning — the broadest collection of species in Europe, we were led to believe. Instead, we decided on an indoor option.

We finalised our packing and checked out of the hotel. With less than an hour left on our 72-hour transport pass we made our way out to the Zoologisches Garten Bahnhof (railway station), where we deposited our luggage in a large locker for the morning. We then negotiated the U-Bahn to the infotainment attraction, "The Story of Berlin". (The English version of that site currently is not working: translate German site.) Our arrival was complicated by me insisting I knew what I was doing and making us get on the wrong train, but we eventually arrived safely. The Story... exhibition was OK, quite innovative but nothing to write home about. (Yet, strangely, I am... hmm.) However, also included was their tour of a genuine bunker for use in Nuclear/Biological/Chemical attack, that had been built in the subterranean depths of the same building. Originally genuinely intended for use at 12 hours notice during the cold war, it now nominally would still be used in an emergency but would require two weeks' notice first. It could house 3,500 people for two weeks. (Two weeks notice for two weeks housing doesn't sound like a particularly good deal to me, but still...) Most interesting fact: oxygen levels would have been quite low, but partly deliberately, so as to keep people sleepy and thus able to be managed in such a tightly confined space. It was pretty grim, but I suppose would be better than being outdoors during such an emergency?

Emerged from all this to discover a dramatic change outside. After three days of either blanket cloud or fog, and the rain this morning, the sun had broken through the clouds and blue sky to be seen. Returning by bus this time to collect our luggage we had the benefit of an overland perspective and discovered one of those quirks of a Metro system — it would have been quicker for us to walk, making our earlier detour on the wrong train even funnier. By the time we retrieved our luggage it was a brilliant day and we started to overheat in winter clothes as we headed out to the airport on the bus and then waited to check in. The light and warmth transformed our final view of the city. We had a great trip, and don't regret coming at this time of year. But we'd love to see Berlin in the spring...

At varying heights

We didn't want too early a start today, having visited A-Trane (translate site), a Berlin jazz club last night. Performances at this small and comfortable little club don't start till 10pm, but when the duo finally took to the stage they were good. She, on vocals, sang only in English but punctuated by (apparently) humorous remarks in German between numbers. I think we'd have preferred it the other way around. He, playing the Steinway, showed you don't always need to use the keys to make music on the strings. Fun. We both thought afterwards, how is it we have spent a year in London and are yet to go to a jazz club here? Height at A-Trane: ground level.

So we headed to the Reichstag “first thing” today, arriving there about 10:45am. The Reichstag is the home of the reunified German Federal Government. Queued for a while due to airport-style security, before being able to take the lift to the roof and climb up inside the impressive glass dome. The dome sits directly above the debating chamber — it is said this is so you can keep an eye on the government. There is a hole out through the middle of the dome from the debating chamber also, to let out all the hot air from the politicians. An impressive building. View from the building marred by cloud and by the large park in front of the building being wintery black skeletons rather than spring's green forest. Height at roof: 32.2m.

On our tour yesterday we'd been told about a cafe, in the former princess' residence, that had 40 different types of cake. Feeling obligated to participate where we could in German culture, we decided to partake. I had the Wäldercremetorte (chocolate, cream, cherries and unfortunately more cream) while Bronwyn had the Brombeertorte (blackberries set in jelly, basically). We felt the tour guide had exaggerated a little, estimating while we ate that there'd been about 20 types of cake to choose from, but still a good selection. I counted them on the way out: 46. Height of cafe floor: estimated at 1.2m.

From there, we travelled over to the Museum für Naturkunde. Even from the street the grounds of this natural history museum suggested it was not the top funding priority of the city and federal administrators, and this impression was borne out inside. It is OK but dated. They do however have the largest saurian (read dinosaur kids) ever mounted in a natural history museum — a 22 meter long Brachiosaurus. It was not until I stepped into this room and saw this monster that I realised I had never seen a dinosaur skeleton in person before. (Funny the things TV does to you.) Dinosaurs must have been the most awesome animals in motion. When about to leave this museum we stumbled across the touring Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition, on display at the museum. Outstanding photography. Makes me yearn to do more, to be better. Height of Brachiosaurus: 12 m.

Headed out to the supposedly historical medieval section of town, though it didn't strictly look very medieval. Supported local culture with German specialities for dinner at a local Kartofelhaus (Potato Restaurant). After dinner, paid to ascend the Berliner Fernsehturm (TV tower), built by Socialist Swedes for the East German government at the height of the cold war as a symbol of achievement. It looks like a disco ball on a (200m high) stick, and our tour guide earlier commented that this is surely what you'd have had to expect from the Swedes in the 60s. ABBA consulted on the project presumably. Height of viewing platform: 203.78m.

Walking the wall

You may not be able to sit on the fence, but you can walk the wall. We've spent the morning walking through Berlin on a guided tour, mostly in the Eastern sector, tracking the history of a city that has seen a lot of turmoil. The wounds of the past are still healing here. We're glad we came to Berlin.

Shards of German have been appearing in my mind and casting slivers of light on various situations as we encounter them. Bronwyn is relying heavily on me and probably learning less local language than on past trips to other countries — she says learning nothing. That's all right — she'll be on speaking Czech when we're in Prague in seven weeks!   : )

The weather has been cold but has not disrupted our plans. Cloudy yesterday gave way to fog today, which is at least more atmospheric. There's plenty to do here and it is merely a case of balancing fascinating-museum fatigue, sore legs from walking past historic sites, and mental over-stimulation. It's a tough life.

Bronwyn's Berlin

Sonntag ins Berlin

We had plans, ah, how we had plans. On Sundays, the ever-faithful Lonely Planet informed us, the Musikinstrumenten-Museum had a chamber music concert at 11am, where they played music on the original instruments it was composed for, not their modern equivalents. We also were informed that the 1846 St Matthäus Kirche (translate site), right across the Kulturforum had an English language church service at 12:30pm. Perfect! We waited for a long time in a line of about 30 people at the Musical Instrument museum, wondering whey they weren't selling tickets. It turned out this was because, though we'd arrived half an hour before the performance, the auditorium (of only 96 seats) was nearly all full. A few more seats were found, and the line in front of us thinned. Finally, five more tickets were available, and we stood fifth and sixth in line? “Did we want one ticket?” we were asked. It was sold to the woman behind us. Transpires this was the absolute last ticket. Sold out! announced in German — line dissipates. Turns out in any case we didn't have sufficient cash on us and they don't accept kreditcarten. Relieved to have not made a scene I guess... Visited the museum instead. One, well, sort of piano/organ thing had over 200 keys. Phew! Strangest instrument was a genetically-modified combination of violin and trumpet. Just wrong.

Missing the concert meant we were in plenty of time for the service at St Mattäus... except there was no service! Climbed the bell tower for a view over the Kulturforum, Potsdamer Platz, and out to the Reichstag and the Brandenburg gate. Walked to the gate via Potsdamer Platz in chilly temperatures under a uniformly cloud-coated sky. Photos there quickly, knowing we'd be back again another day. Plans for the day hadn't gone entirely smoothly, but we rushed to the Märkisches Museum, hoping that there we would find the expected weekly demonstration of a range of automated musical instruments. Finally, there, our plans worked out, and we were treated to a surprising array of autosonic stimulation, from electrical organ grinders to pianolas.

From there, completed our institution-crawl with a visit to the Jüdisches Museum. This is not a holocaust museum but rather tracks the long history of Jewish involvement in German society. The architecture of this building cleverly demonstrates the continuity of Jewish life and the way exile and holocaust have cut across this. Two remarkable art installations likewise were evocative and unforgettable.

Out for dinner in Charlottenburg, were we found ordering Italian in German is easy — after all, Quattro Stagioni is practically an English word now, innit? (In fact, I had Pizza Speciale this time, but only because it still had artischocke on it.) Bronwyn noted every couple in the restaurant had boy:pizza, girl:pasta. She had Spaghetti Bolognaise.

Valentine's Day: London-Berlin

A characteristic of cheap airfares booked online is that they often depart at inconvenient times and from unfashionable airports. In contrast, our flights to Berlin were from Heathrow, convenient for us, and didn't depart until 7:10pm. This meant we were able to take a relaxed view to starting the day. Having decided so recently to come to Berlin, some of the day was spent on the internet planning what we might do. This was aided by having ordered the Lonely Planet Germany some months ago, and their German phrase book, as we'd always planned to visit this country. (Just not so soon...) Helpful links were also forwarded by housemate Hayley, a skilled academic researcher who surfs professionally!

We left for the airport about 3:20pm (planned departure: 3:00pm). Heathrow was crowded and stifling hot, but things were running to time other than at Burger King. We realised as we took off that while we've done a fair bit of travel over the last year, it's all been by train and rental car, Eurostar and Channel Tunnel. Fun to be flying again. Now we knew that our hotel in Berlin was next to an U-Bahn station, and we had the hotel address and phone number. What we didn't know was which U-Bahn station. On the way, Bronwyn found a map of Berlin in the Lonely Planet, and we found the street. At least we knew the general area.

Arriving in Deutschland was an EU-style casual affair. They did stamp our passports, but it is an indication of the relaxed level of security that we covered only 50m of floor from the plane through passport control to luggage collection and out. (Also a sign of excellent design, actually.) Followed bus signs to an exit where a bright orange machine sold us a couple of bus tickets for €2.20 each. No Deutschmarks these days, just leftover coins from our last foray into Paris. The X9 bus took us to the Zoologisches Garten U-Bahnof in about 15 minutes, and from there another 15 saw us sliding into Bülowstrasse station. Just before we stopped, saw Hotel Aldea in enormous letters out the window — found.

Checked in, initially in German to which he responded in English. I may have been convincing though because he then went on in Deutsch. Yes, here is your key, room 711 — I'm with you. Then, something that was either about the local bus routes, or was how to get in the front door after midnight. Uh... then huh? Back to English: breakfast is served in the restaurant from 6:30am to 10am. Danke. The lift, the room (much nicer than we were expecting), BBC on cable TV after 20 German channels, plan tomorrow, to bed, to sleep, perchance to dream in Deutsch? ah... das ist der Rüb.

Term deposit matures tomorrow

I'll admit, I didn't invest as much as they recommended in the original policy documents. By the end of my four years active participation in the scheme, I must have disappointed the fund manager a little. However, tomorrow an old term deposit matures.

I'm not talking finances here, lest you be confused. It was a mental investment that was made, back 1988 to 1991. The currency of this investment? German language and culture. The fund? My brain. The fund manager? Primarily my long-suffering and in hindsight actually quite good-natured secondary school German teacher, Herr Ehrler. So, what then the maturing of this term deposit? Tomorrow, we fly to Berlin.

Some time ago we booked the next few days off for a holiday. As a teacher, Bronwyn has no flexibility with her time off, which I suppose at least simplifies planning. I'd had the entire week approved for leave, and we'd thought to go away for about four days. I was going to have a few days to “sort my life out” afterwards, as I am wont to do. Our plan had been to take a break from the London winter and go somewhere warm or at least warmer... we were looking at the Mediterranean, at the Greek Islands, the Canary Islands, and latterly Morocco. Our intention had been to book something at the last minute, most probably through lastminute.com. Problem is, turns out tomorrow is Valentine's Day. What with it being half term as well, we found there was something of a premium on short holiday breaks in warm, romantic destinations. Funny that.

Last night, at 10.10pm, I changed tack. It hasn't been so cold here, and with central heating we're still using a summer-weight duvet on our bed and I'm even still sleeping in summer nightwear. So what if we just went somewhere interesting, but not warm? Sure enough, Berlin's rather cheaper at this time of year. It's forecast to be a couple of degrees colder there than it was in London a week or two ago: about 4 degrees. We can hack the cold. We fly out of Heathrow, 7:30pm tomorrow, returning Wednesday. I am quite excited.

One year... one day...

Dear New Zealand,
One year ago today we climbed on a plane and flew from our home. A year has passed quickly. I wrote that day we'd keep in touch, and we have, though not as much as we'd expected. We certainly miss you greatly, along with many of those you host as guests on your land.

Please know you still remain an integral part of our lives. We shall see your shores again, Aotearoa.

with love,
duncan and bronwyn.

Women, men, and the church

Women in the church and in Christian communities are frequently marginalised and are not given opportunities to fully exercise their God-given gifts. I'd like to excuse this by inferring that things are (almost) as bad in the wider community, but that's a cop-out. The Christian community should be leading society in this regard, not lagging behind.

Jenny Baker writes about this in what I guess we can without controversy refer to as her husband's blog, since it is called jonnybaker blog. I believe Jenny's post is on the mark and whether in the emerging church movement or just part of the wider Christian community we need to accept what she says and consider how to respond in our lives.

One aspect of her post got me thinking further though. She wrote, "Because there has been such an unspoken fear of inappropriate relationships between men and women developing, most opportunities for strong healthy relationships have been squashed as well", and, "Single women are, of course, especially dangerous." A number of comments from other women on Jenny's post indicated they also had the experience of being treated as dangerous goods. [Objectification deliberate, but not endorsed.] The interpretation of the behaviour of men seemed to be that it implied the men thought the women would find them irresistible, that the women might be seeking inappropriate intimacy, that the women might...

Well, there may be an element of this. Among married Christian men however I suspect there is another factor. To be a man is not to be a woman. The fear displayed by many men in forging deep one-to-one relationships with women may be because men too easily confuse philios and eros, friendship and sexuality. I think the “danger” is the fear men have of what they have found inside themselves. Lust.

I am not advocating separation of the sexes in our Christian communities and ministries. Men can learn to forge deep and productive, non-sexual, relationships with women. I work in health, where the vast majority of my colleagues are women. I have been out for drinks with my workmates where it has been 22 women and me. I am comfortable in these situations. There is an inherent risk, however, that we need to be aware of. I would rarely go out for a drink after work with just one female workmate. That's not about them, it's about me. I will happily provide one-to-one clinical supervision for women in my workplace. Approximately half my clients are of course women. However, I would be nervous about being a spiritual mentor for a woman in a Christian context, unless it was in a structured and well-established (essentially professionalised) organisation.

So how can we all move to a place where women display greater leadership in our Christian communities? If the attitudes of men “simply” need to change, that may with effort happen over time. However, the problem may have arisen because men have identified their own weaknesses and have been actively working to manage them. Women may then face a double barrier. No doubt to some extent the latter virtue (be safe) is used to justify the former flaw (negative attitudes to women). After all, speaking personally my motivation is always richly self-serving. We need instead to find ways to enable men to live up to their (and God's) standards, without the “solution” of excluding women. A culture of genuine raw accountability would be a good start. I'm not sure if I'm brave enough to ask the first questions though, let alone to be asked.

In any case, I wonder to what extent our leadership structures themselves have been built in the images of men, and are thus unappealing to many women. Would women today develop a different Christian community, if they were involved as we re-designed from scratch? Oh wait, is that what the emergent church movement is trying to... which brings us to Jenny's post... oh... hmmm...

Pace of life

What marks out the beat of life? Is it played on the bass drum or the snare? In talking with people in my work, and in reviewing my own life, I'm struck by the extent to which as a society we've immersed ourselves in the race forward. There is surely a cost to be paid. I wonder whether this current time will be viewed by history as productive or merely foolish. People are seeing the effects our lifestyle is having on our environment, yet we seem blind to what we are planting in ourselves. Life wasn't meant to be frantic.* I come again to the conclusion I need to do less. I'm just terrible at saying no, frequently unwilling to prioritise to achieve things, and unhappy with the results. Ahh, perhaps if I just achieve a little more, then I'll be happy. There's the future to think of, after all.

Yet what if. What if I... and what if I didn't... ? Radical thoughts.

Motivation

I guess I am supposed to be qualified to know something about motivation, though you have to admit it is a complex thing. The ebb and flow of enthusiasm is an interesting thing; or at least it is sometimes, while at other times I'm not so enthralled. My recent personal experience has certainly been like this. At times I've been able to work solidly at whatever project is at hand, but at other times I've found it difficult to engage gears. Perhaps it is the winter. (I don't really believe that.) I think I'm just having an intermittent blah. It'll pass.

Having prepared the graphics and the header text, I was feeling motivated to get the new month's blog page up though. It just needs an entry.

Done.