Is 'cisgender' a word?

 

Even the great Julius Caesar, when interrogated by the Senate, famously could not tell the difference between Cisalpine and Transalpine Gaul. 

As I recall, the opening line of his history book Gender Wars reads thus: “Omnia genera in tres partes divisa est. Genus masculinum, genus femininum, et genus quodcumque aliquis male se esse credit.”

Happy Medium

In my teaching career, I had two colleagues who embodied opposite viewpoints on education: one would reproach me for using words that pupils did not know, saying "How can they learn if they don’t understand you?"; the other would dissent, arguing, "How can they learn anything if they’re never exposed to things they don’t already understand?"

One of the best compliments I ever received was when one of a group of former pupils wrote to me from university, saying that their economics lecturer was unintelligible, but after every lecture they would get together and ask themselves, “How would Mr Hall have explained this?”

I was reassured, reckoning I must have come close to an Aristotelian happy medium.

The Good, The Bad, and ....

I have been fascinated by recent comments on Quora, which have, knowingly or not, rehearsed Catharism (two gods) and Leibniz (the problem of evil), without ever mentioning Tom Paine and the arguments put forward in his book “The Age of Reason”.

I do believe that, to a considerable extent, we are all products of our upbringing. Had it not been so, I would not have reached the age of sixty before becoming aware of the fact that so many of the questions I was left with had been asked, and answered, two hundred years ago. I considered myself an educated man, but all that meant was I had absorbed the things that western society wants us to think and not ventured into the Index of prohibited thought.

Having at long last become aware of my own shortcomings, I can hardly blame others who have accepted what society tells them, at face value, without adequate questioning.

When I did begin to think for myself, I decided that the existence of evil in the world was actually logical. A god who was perfect would be good, and capable of all types of goodness, except moral goodness.

Moral goodness is necessarily the prerogative of imperfect beings who are able, as a result of free will, to choose between good and evil.

A perfect being, by definition, cannot choose evil. An imperfect being, by contrast, can show moral goodness by choosing the right when he was able to choose the wrong.

A perfect (and omnipotent) god, seeking to maximise goodness, would therefore be obliged to create imperfect beings in order to allow moral goodness to exist.

An unfortunate side effect is that he also must allow moral badness to exist.

However, the total amount of goodness resulting, including moral goodness, minus the amount of moral badness, must exceed the amount of all goodness except moral goodness otherwise existing.

That’s my twopenn’orth.

My regards to Herr Leibniz.

Also, thank you, Tom. I couldn’t have got here without you.

And I have my tin hat on.

Is there any evidence that the word “God” means anything at all? (Quora)

I was asked this in a Quora comments column, in my capacity as a former teacher of philosophy. In that same capacity, I tried to answer it. Please note, I always made it my policy to try to teach students how to think, not what to think. 

There is evidence that theists use the term to refer to something, even if they are not able fully to describe what that something is. 

There is evidence that atheists use the term to refer to something, even if they consider that something to be non-existent. 

 We all use words to describe things of which we have no direct perceptual experience. Included amongst these are things that we do believe to exist and things that we do not believe to exist. For example, I have no direct experience of albatrosses, but I have no reason to suppose that people who claim such experience are lying. I also have no direct experience of wyverns, and yet I doubt the testimony of those who have claimed such experience, even though I am unable to prove the non-existence of wyverns. 

This is probably accounted for simply by my having been brought up in a “civilised” society disposed to accept the former but not the latter. My understanding is conditioned by my upbringing. Likewise, my education has enabled me to understand technicalities in my field which are deeper than common understanding, and that is why I considered myself able to teach. In other fields, I have no understanding beyond the fact that people who claim to know say that something exists. I choose to believe them or not based on a predisposition which is just part of my way of looking at things, nothing more. 

 In other words, the word ‘god’ has a meaning, just as the word ‘wyvern’ has a meaning. Both mean different things to different people, and some people will believe the word does not refer to an extant being while others will believe that it does, but there is sufficient mutual understanding of the thing referred to that we can use the word to communicate with each other.

How can you begin a short story without knowing how it ends? (Quora)

There is a long-standing division of practice between the planners (or plotters) and the pantsters (or improvisers) of the writing world.

The plotters are probably better placed to provide standard submissions to publishers who like specific types of story, written in ways that they know their customers are happy with. In other words, plotters can write consistent work to a consistent pattern which they know is going to sell. They are good at commercial writing.

I belong to the second group, which means I usually begin a story with no real idea of how it is going to end. Indeed, one of my main motivations to keep going is to find out how it ends. Sometimes I need to go back and adjust earlier bits of the story so as to foreshadow the end that I arrived at rather than the one I may have once thought I was working towards.

Not all original work is good. Sometimes different is worse. But every now and again, a pantster will come up with something innovatory, original, and good. And it won’t sell.

All too rarely, an original work will get past the publishers’ submissions filter system known as slush readers (or assistant editors), who are usually schooled in conformity and tend to reject submissions that don’t fit their employers’ known preferences.

If a pantster story reaches an editor who is willing to take risks, it has a chance of publication. That editor may even flag your work to ensure that future submissions also get through to him.

And very, very rarely, one of these stories will become so popular that it makes your name and a star is born.

In other words, if you shoot for the stars you probably won’t hit them, but you’ll have fun trying. If you need your writing to pay the bills, you should probably write what you already know is going to sell.