Reading Wednesday
Jul. 13th, 2016 03:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brigdhWhat did you just finish?
Handcuffed: What Holds Policing Back, and the Keys to Reform by Malcolm K. Sparrow. A nonfiction book that examines various problems with current policing theory, implementation, and practice. I was quite interested to get a more in-depth look at this topic (particularly as it regards community policing), and while this was a good book for learning some of the history and ideas behind current policing, ultimately it was mostly aimed at police managers, not lay people. For example, the chapter on how to manage interactions between public police and private security was interesting enough, in a theoretical sort of way, but I doubt I'll find much use for the suggested ways to practice such engagements. Which isn't really a critique of the book – it seems very successful at what it's doing! I'm just not the intended audience.
I do have to gripe about the chapter in which Sparrow attacks social sciences as a general concept though. He argues that policing probably isn't a great environment in which to conduct randomized, controlled experiments – sure, that seems logical enough to me. But Sparrow has a bizarre idea of what constitutes the difference between natural and social sciences. He seems to believe that social science consists solely of statistics and highly standardized experimentation, while natural science is... well, basically everything else.
For example:
My purpose [is] to press the point that social-scientific experiments and evaluation constitute a relatively small and very particular subset of the relevant inquiry tool kit.
We should at least consider which natural science inquiry methods might turn out to be relevant or important for policing. A great many of them, I would suggest. Most of what we know about social problems and most of the knowledge already accumulated by police stems from the mindset and methods of natural science inquiry: observation, inspection, investigation, and diagnosis, leading to the development of ideas about the scope, nature, and dynamics of various dysfunctions and breakdowns in the social order.
He then goes on to cite Newton, Galileo, and the entire medical field as examples of people who have learned a lot without worrying too much about experiments. To which I say, WTF.
Perhaps it is worth bearing in mind that the vast majority of modern medical knowledge has accumulated without the use of this elite tool kit. [...] It would be strange, indeed, if Galileo and Newton, who have taught us so much about the way the universe works, were deemed not to have engaged in “high science” simply because their methods did not rely on randomized experiments or program evaluation techniques.
(He's using here the terms "elite" and "high" science to describe social science, which he apparently seems to think is better regarded than natural science? That, uh, seems to be the exact opposite conclusion of nearly everyone else, as explained by this XKCD strip.)
And then it gets even crazier:
There is no prima facie reason why the ratio of natural science methods to social science methods applicable to policing should differ markedly from this ratio in other areas. One can obtain a rough sense of where that ratio lies, in general, by comparing the rate at which new articles are abstracted into various academic citation indices. For the United States, the rate at which articles are being added to the general science citation indices runs at roughly five times the rate at which articles are being added to equivalent social science citation indexes. Across a range of industrialized nations, this ratio varies between 5:1 and 10:1. In other words, social science may account for no more than 10 to 20 percent of new science. Given that the elite tool box and preferred methods of EBP [Evidence Based Policing; the application of his reviled "social science" methods to policing] represent a relatively small subset of the overall social science tool kit—certainly less than half—then it might be reasonable to guess that EBP should represent no more than 5 to 10 percent of the investments the police profession could usefully make in scientific inquiry.
THERE IS SO MUCH CRAZY IN THIS PARAGRAPH THAT I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO START.
Anyway, if you happen to read this, you might just want to skip Chapter Four. The rest of the book is fine.
I read this as an ARC via NetGalley.
I also spent a great deal of time this week reading The Comfortable Courtesan, which is not really a book (though it is available in ebook form here!), but rather a daily-updated blog that purports to be the memoirs/diary/personal account of Madame C– C–, an exteremly select upper-class courtesean in Regency London. Though actually she's no longer a 'working woman' since she recently married a Marquess who was dying of malaria but wanted a widow he could trust to manage his estate and send regular sums of money to his revolutionary connections in Naples. He knew he could trust Madame C–, you see, because she had spent years appearing to be the mistress of the Marquess's good friend, Lord G- R-, when in actuality she was helping Lord G- R- to disguise the fact that he's gay and in a long-term relationship with his secretary, a Scottish philosopher named Sandy.
Yes. The whole thing is like this, self-consciously melodramatic and hilarious and absolutely captivating. Madame C– is a character in the grand tradition of Flora Poste and The Grand Sophy: utterly competent to arrange the chaos and manage the escapades that are constantly going on around her. It is quite frequently laugh-out-loud funny (the mating habits of wombats! bad poets falling into lakes when attacked by swans! overly enthusiastic Italian assassins with inappropriate crushes!), and when it's not being funny, it is adorable and charming (Madame C–'s relationship with baby Flora is possibly the cutest thing I have ever read). There are occasional sad episode (there's been a few deaths, and some fairly serious misadventures), but the overall feel is warm and comforting. It's written in period style, with an abundance of allusions to contemporary events or quotes or people. There's clearly a huge amount of historical knowledge behind the writing – certainly it feels vastly more authentic than the average Regency romance – though it's so easy and fun to read that you almost wouldn't notice.
But the benefit over Georgette Heyer or Jane Austen is that The Comfortable Courtesan is wonderfully diverse. There are a large number of GLBT characters, including both m/m and f/f relationships, an asexual character, and a transwoman character. The central relationship is a poly threesome, that has had to deal with how to set boundaries and negotiate jealousy. There's a Jewish character, and many black characters – nearly all of Madame C–'s servants are black, and they and their families are important figures in the story. I mean, I realize that it does not sound particularly appealing to go "the servants are all people of color! :D", but they have their own fully detailed characterizations and plots: romances, career aspirations, tragedies, villainous kidnapping attempts, embarrassingly fervent but temporary bouts of extreme religion, and more.
It's just wonderful and I can't recommend it highly enough. Check it out here, though you probably want to start from the beginning rather than the most recent update.
What are you currently reading?
Hostage by Rachel Manija Brown and Sherwood Smith! It's so good, y'all.
Handcuffed: What Holds Policing Back, and the Keys to Reform by Malcolm K. Sparrow. A nonfiction book that examines various problems with current policing theory, implementation, and practice. I was quite interested to get a more in-depth look at this topic (particularly as it regards community policing), and while this was a good book for learning some of the history and ideas behind current policing, ultimately it was mostly aimed at police managers, not lay people. For example, the chapter on how to manage interactions between public police and private security was interesting enough, in a theoretical sort of way, but I doubt I'll find much use for the suggested ways to practice such engagements. Which isn't really a critique of the book – it seems very successful at what it's doing! I'm just not the intended audience.
I do have to gripe about the chapter in which Sparrow attacks social sciences as a general concept though. He argues that policing probably isn't a great environment in which to conduct randomized, controlled experiments – sure, that seems logical enough to me. But Sparrow has a bizarre idea of what constitutes the difference between natural and social sciences. He seems to believe that social science consists solely of statistics and highly standardized experimentation, while natural science is... well, basically everything else.
For example:
My purpose [is] to press the point that social-scientific experiments and evaluation constitute a relatively small and very particular subset of the relevant inquiry tool kit.
We should at least consider which natural science inquiry methods might turn out to be relevant or important for policing. A great many of them, I would suggest. Most of what we know about social problems and most of the knowledge already accumulated by police stems from the mindset and methods of natural science inquiry: observation, inspection, investigation, and diagnosis, leading to the development of ideas about the scope, nature, and dynamics of various dysfunctions and breakdowns in the social order.
He then goes on to cite Newton, Galileo, and the entire medical field as examples of people who have learned a lot without worrying too much about experiments. To which I say, WTF.
Perhaps it is worth bearing in mind that the vast majority of modern medical knowledge has accumulated without the use of this elite tool kit. [...] It would be strange, indeed, if Galileo and Newton, who have taught us so much about the way the universe works, were deemed not to have engaged in “high science” simply because their methods did not rely on randomized experiments or program evaluation techniques.
(He's using here the terms "elite" and "high" science to describe social science, which he apparently seems to think is better regarded than natural science? That, uh, seems to be the exact opposite conclusion of nearly everyone else, as explained by this XKCD strip.)
And then it gets even crazier:
There is no prima facie reason why the ratio of natural science methods to social science methods applicable to policing should differ markedly from this ratio in other areas. One can obtain a rough sense of where that ratio lies, in general, by comparing the rate at which new articles are abstracted into various academic citation indices. For the United States, the rate at which articles are being added to the general science citation indices runs at roughly five times the rate at which articles are being added to equivalent social science citation indexes. Across a range of industrialized nations, this ratio varies between 5:1 and 10:1. In other words, social science may account for no more than 10 to 20 percent of new science. Given that the elite tool box and preferred methods of EBP [Evidence Based Policing; the application of his reviled "social science" methods to policing] represent a relatively small subset of the overall social science tool kit—certainly less than half—then it might be reasonable to guess that EBP should represent no more than 5 to 10 percent of the investments the police profession could usefully make in scientific inquiry.
THERE IS SO MUCH CRAZY IN THIS PARAGRAPH THAT I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO START.
Anyway, if you happen to read this, you might just want to skip Chapter Four. The rest of the book is fine.
I read this as an ARC via NetGalley.
I also spent a great deal of time this week reading The Comfortable Courtesan, which is not really a book (though it is available in ebook form here!), but rather a daily-updated blog that purports to be the memoirs/diary/personal account of Madame C– C–, an exteremly select upper-class courtesean in Regency London. Though actually she's no longer a 'working woman' since she recently married a Marquess who was dying of malaria but wanted a widow he could trust to manage his estate and send regular sums of money to his revolutionary connections in Naples. He knew he could trust Madame C–, you see, because she had spent years appearing to be the mistress of the Marquess's good friend, Lord G- R-, when in actuality she was helping Lord G- R- to disguise the fact that he's gay and in a long-term relationship with his secretary, a Scottish philosopher named Sandy.
Yes. The whole thing is like this, self-consciously melodramatic and hilarious and absolutely captivating. Madame C– is a character in the grand tradition of Flora Poste and The Grand Sophy: utterly competent to arrange the chaos and manage the escapades that are constantly going on around her. It is quite frequently laugh-out-loud funny (the mating habits of wombats! bad poets falling into lakes when attacked by swans! overly enthusiastic Italian assassins with inappropriate crushes!), and when it's not being funny, it is adorable and charming (Madame C–'s relationship with baby Flora is possibly the cutest thing I have ever read). There are occasional sad episode (there's been a few deaths, and some fairly serious misadventures), but the overall feel is warm and comforting. It's written in period style, with an abundance of allusions to contemporary events or quotes or people. There's clearly a huge amount of historical knowledge behind the writing – certainly it feels vastly more authentic than the average Regency romance – though it's so easy and fun to read that you almost wouldn't notice.
But the benefit over Georgette Heyer or Jane Austen is that The Comfortable Courtesan is wonderfully diverse. There are a large number of GLBT characters, including both m/m and f/f relationships, an asexual character, and a transwoman character. The central relationship is a poly threesome, that has had to deal with how to set boundaries and negotiate jealousy. There's a Jewish character, and many black characters – nearly all of Madame C–'s servants are black, and they and their families are important figures in the story. I mean, I realize that it does not sound particularly appealing to go "the servants are all people of color! :D", but they have their own fully detailed characterizations and plots: romances, career aspirations, tragedies, villainous kidnapping attempts, embarrassingly fervent but temporary bouts of extreme religion, and more.
It's just wonderful and I can't recommend it highly enough. Check it out here, though you probably want to start from the beginning rather than the most recent update.
What are you currently reading?
Hostage by Rachel Manija Brown and Sherwood Smith! It's so good, y'all.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2016-07-14 07:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-07-14 07:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-07-14 10:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-07-19 02:39 am (UTC)