Cheese

I was shopping at a health food store last week, and I stopped at the dairy section to pick up some cream cheese. Lo and behold, there was a new (well, new to me anyway) alternative to cream cheese with 1/3 less saturated fat. Now, who can possibly resist such an appeal to logic? (Not to mention the emotional appeal of a slim waistline). It’s called Neufchatel (see “Nuefchatel” on Wikipedia) — and, as we all know beyond any rational doubt, food items with foreign names have to be good. I imagined what the consistency and flavor of the cheese must be, and although I wasn’t super impressed with my imagined cheese (I guess I don’t buy into the purchase-worthiness of foreign names after all), I decided to give it a try.

I opened it today, but I began looking over the packaging while my toaster did its toasting. I always wonder at how different cheeses are made, and yet the ingredients list rarely helps when “milk and cheese cultures” tops and often ends the list. It’s interesting how much is and is not told with an ingredients list. I quickly scanned the item’s nutrition facts, and right next to it, in a relatively prominent location, was this:

MADE WITH MILK FROM COWS NOT
TREATED WITH rGBH.
The FDA has said there is no
significant difference between milk
from cows treated with rGBH and
untreated cows. No test can
distinguish between milk from
treated and untreated cows.

Hmm, I thought. How interesting that valuable packaging real estate went into making a claim (that the milk came from cows not treated with a growth hormone) only to usurp all power from that claim (the milk from treated or untreated cows is not significantly different). But, then, I was in a health food store, and FDA findings and rulings are met with a critical eye from these shoppers. In this context, the statement in all-caps would get a nod of approval and the disclaimer would be ignored or scoffed at.

I began researching the topic on the Web to see how the labeling of rGBH (also known as rBST) (see Bovine Somatotropin on Wikipedia) is restricted, and I discovered the conversation regarding its approval and use is quite involved. It turns out that a movement toward banning statements about rBGH-free cows began in Pennsylvania in fall 2007 with Dennis Wolff, the state’s agriculture secretary, who claimed that “consumers were confused” about the quality of milk from these cows (“Fighting on a Battlefield the Size of a Milk Label,” The New York Times). If the law passed, consumers would have no way of knowing whether milk had come from cows treated with rBGH or not.

But after pressure from consumer groups and the governor of Pennsylvania – along with Wolff acknowledging he had no consumer reports to support his cause – the case was dropped and turned, instead, into a push toward restricting the language on labels, and this time similar cases began in New Jersey, Ohio, Indiana, Kansas, Utah, Missouri and Vermont as well. Farmers and resellers, meanwhile, argue that their first amendment rights are being hampered. It appears these battles are still ongoing.

The layers to this story continue to be interesting, however. I’m always interested in what factors are ignored or overlooked and whether the lapses can be seen as intentional or unintentional. Here are some instances that are interesting to me, but there are certainly more to be found.

American consumption levels

The FDA approved the growth hormone in 1993, and The American Council on Health and Science gave this reason for acknowledging the need for what they are calling a “technology”:

As the world’s population grows, the National Research Council estimates that the supply of food required to adequately meet human nutritional needs over the next 40 years will be equal to the amount of food previously produced throughout the entire history of humankind. To meet this demand, animal scientists must develop new technologies to increase productive efficiency (that is, the yield of milk or meat per unit of feed), produce leaner animals and provide increased economic return on investment to producers. During the past decade, scientists have developed many new agricultural biotechnologies that meet these goals. Their adoption will have many positive effects on food production, processing and availability. (“The Efficacy, Safety and Benefits of Bovine Somatotropin and Porcine Somatotropin,” The American Council on Health)

What it doesn’t discuss is the overproduction of milk. Various web sites discuss this problem, but more reputable sites on dairy markets offer statistics spread over various dairy products. If anyone wants to crunch the numbers for us, feel free to post a comment with your analysis.

Human Health

Another issue that has arisen is the presence of IGF-1, a protein hormone, in milk from treated cows. Some groups claim the protein “is an important factor in the growth of cancers of the breast, prostate and colon” (“rBGH / rBST,” Center for Food Safety), but the FDA gave this response to a citizen petition to take the hormone off the market:

The FDA has previously maintained and continues to maintain that levels of IGF-I in milk whether or not from rbGH supplemented cows are not significant when evaluated against the levels of IGF-I endogenously produced and present in humans.” (Response to Robert Cohen, U.S. Food and Drug Administration. Note: This link will open a Microsoft document file.)

I guess time will answer this one for us.

Animal Health

Most of the debate surrounding this issue seem to deal solely with the quality of the milk, but it’s context, so to speak, seems to be disregarded to a large extent in the scientific studies we see. Some groups claim that the hormone causes various deformities and diseases in the animals that farmers must then treat with antibiotics and other drugs, which find their way into milk.

Nonetheless, the FDA’s update on the safety of milk doesn’t address the alleged problem but only discusses the safety of milk in terms of humans:

FDA’s Center for Veterinary Medicine (CVM) has reexamined the human food safety of recombinant bovine somatotropin (rbST) in response to recent inquiries about the safety of this product. FDA’s CVM approved Monsanto Company’s rbST product, PosilacÒ in November 1993 after a comprehensive review of the product’s safety and efficacy, including human food safety. CVM has issued a detailed report based on a careful audit of the human food safety sections of this approval. CVM’s finding upholds the Agency’s original conclusion that milk from cows treated with rbST is safe for human consumption. (“Update on Human Food safety of BST,” U.S. Food and Drug Administration)

So is milk from cows treated with rBGH (or rBST) safe and humane? I don’t know. I’m just interested in how it’s marketed and how the studies and subtopics are fed to the public.

As for Nuefchatel, it’s pretty good. I couldn’t tell a difference between it and regular cream cheese, but I’m also suffering from a cold today, and supposedly our sense of taste mostly derives from our sense of smell, which I’m missing for the moment. My scientific research has suffered another disabling factor too: a second variable called “pumpkin butter with port.” You gotta try it.

Promiscuousness of Promiscuity

I just started going through a book called The Information Society Reader, a collection of foundational readings on the study of the Information Society, and a few pages into the editor’s introduction I had a déjà vu moment with this oddly familiar statement:

It can seem that the [concept of “Information Society”] is used with abandon, yet as such it is capable of accommodating all manner of definitions. Readers should look carefully for the definitional terms used, often tacitly, by commentators in what follows. Are they, for instance, emphasizing the economic, educational or cultural dimensions when they discuss the Information Society, or is it technology which is given the greatest weight in their accounts? One might then ask, if the conceptions are so very varied and even promiscuous, then what validity remains [. . . ]? (p. 10)

Webster, Frank (Ed). (2004). The Information Society Reader. London: Routledge.
(Or click here to see the text in Google Books)

Is this warning not incredibly similar to those we hear about the study of rhetoric? Varying definitions, an undefined scope of study, questions of validity? Lately I’ve felt lulled into a (likely) false state of security. How many times do we hear of academic programs stating with pride that they are interdisciplinarity, crossdisciplinarity, transdisciplinarity, multidisciplinarity? Promiscuity is a characteristic more and more fields of study display with some pride. This crossing of borders has become something of an academic movement, but all movements have a beginning and usually an end, or even if it has lifecycles and never entirely dies out, the times when it tapers out can be painful – as the history of rhetoric can attest to.

What’s interesting to me about the study of the Information Society is that its inception has been some sort of uber-manifestation of interdisciplinarity. It’s flowed and found nodes of connection in the same manner as the Network Society itself. It’s almost like the global community’s entry into the Age of Information is what has made this move toward interdisciplinarity possible in the first place (both in terms of technology and of an emerging climate that condones and even celebrates such behavior), and it’s quite fitting – if not problematic – that the field purporting to study this new age should mirror it as well.

But I can’t help but think there’s bound to be a tide building against such breadth and promiscuity. And if so, I wonder when its time will come, what it will look like, and what the alternatives may be.

The Politics of Motives

During the Vice Presidential debate last Thursday, there was a point when I scrambled for a pen and paper, and it was to write down the final two lines of this statement from Senator Joseph Biden:

I have been able to work across the aisle on some of the most controversial issues and change my party’s mind, as well as Republicans’, because I learned a lesson from Mike Mansfield.

Mike Mansfield, a former leader of the Senate, said to me one day — he — I made a criticism of Jesse Helms. He said, “What would you do if I told you Jesse Helms and Dot Helms had adopted a child who had braces and was in real need?” I said, “I’d feel like a jerk.”

He said, “Joe, understand one thing. Everyone’s sent here for a reason, because there’s something in them that their folks like. Don’t question their motive.”

I have never since that moment in my first year questioned the motive of another member of the Congress or Senate with whom I’ve disagreed. I’ve questioned their judgment (see the entire transcript here).

It was a strong statement, and it was delivered with force. But I was left thinking about how Biden must understand the difference between judgment and motive or, better yet, how he wanted his audience to believe he understands them.

I promise I’ll try not to talk too much theory, but at any mention of “motives,” my mind immediately travels back to Kenneth Burke, a notoriously difficult-to-comprehend mid-twentieth-century theorist, who would have us believe that the finale of one’s decision or action comes out of a motive regardless of how it may seem. One’s motive, even if unknown to the individual, is what drives a person to act and is what underlies that person’s judgment throughout the process. Motives, in other words, precede and therefore shape judgment.

But this point isn’t what Biden is getting at. In this instance the senator sounds more like Wayne Booth, another scholar, who argued that politics would be more straightforward and productive if politicians would simply agree on their commonalities first and lay out their differences second. If I’ve understood correctly, then, Biden is stating his commonality with all of Congress by saying he does not question a politician’s motives: A politician is elected based on her commonalities with her constituency. A politician is the people. The people are right because they are the people (and please note I’m not advocating circular reasoning here. I’m more so stating a basic assumption of democracy). Therefore, the politician – by virtue of having commonalities with the people who voted for her – automatically has good motives. If you question the motives of a politician, then you question the motives of the people. It’s an idealistic statement that doesn’t complicate itself by taking into account the imperfections of humans and the systems of order we create, but it’s a lovely idea.

Another important distinction Biden’s statement marks is the difference between logic (judgment) and a sometimes-unknowable drive (a person’s motives). Debating at the level of motives can often be fruitless in a Western, outcomes-centered society like our own. (Could you imagine Zen-like Congress?) But during the two presidential campaigns of the current administration, we saw a different move. George W. Bush spoke from his “gut” – not logic, but feeling and faith. His beliefs were undeniable because he felt they were true. And it worked. He’s been President for two terms. Regardless of all the talk about whether the Republicans stole the elections, the fact that so many people believed in his approach speaks volumes.

And so I’m left wondering whether Biden’s divorcing of the faculties of the mind (reason and will) is a move that’s appreciated by the voting public. It’s not a new idea. Certainly not – it’s been around since the Age of Enlightenment. But it’s a shift from the current administration. I understand that social consciousness changes according to its own rules, but if it turns out that the public respects this distinction, I wonder what has driven the shift. The bad marks of the current administration? (And I’m not revealing my own leanings here. The President currently has a job approval rating of anywhere from 28% – 34%.) Or a shift back to the ideals of the separation of Church and State? (Not that believing in one’s gut translates into religion, but both are a matter of faith.) Hmm.

Well, that’s all I’ve got. Questions but no answers. In fact, I have a bunch more questions related to the VP debate:

  • Journalism: During the first presidential debate, CNN showed at the bottom of its screen (in the form of a line graph) real-time reactions from Democrats, Republicans, and Independents. During the vice presidential debate (and the following second presidential debate), they swapped out the three categories for those of Men and Women. What is CNN reflecting by choosing and televising these distinctions? On the other hand, what is CNN creating in the minds of its viewers by feeding us such content?
  • Presentation: Folksy versus refined. Which works better in the current climate? How is the current administration (and its two preceding election seasons) affecting our responses? What other (dis)identifications can we point out between current and past political candidates?
  • Interactions: From the initial greeting of the candidates to their conversation on the stage, who referred to whom by first name? Who spoke directly to the other candidate and when? How did such moves affect the tone and content of the debate?
  • Taking jabs: The candidates occasionally played with and prodded at the terminologies used by the opposing campaign. When did or didn’t they work? Were there times when the points hit hard but were made at the cost of the candidates’ own standing?

These topics are not by any means exhaustive, but they’ve been on my mind. What’s on your mind?

Comparing Apples and Windows

Last week, Microsoft unveiled its first television commercial in its new $300 million campaign to “highlight how Windows has become an indispensable part of the lives of a billion people around the globe” (Microsoft press release). I’ve been amused by the Mac vs PC ads that have been around for a bit, and Windows has been working to counter them with a this new advertising scheme that features the comedian, Jerry Seinfeld.

Some of the responses I read, including a blog post by David Zeiler of The Baltimore Sun, give responses that I think are just a bit too negative (but some of the comments on Zeiler’s post expand the conversation in really smart ways). Is this the first ad that sells a product without showing the product? Certainly not. It’s risky, but sometimes it works. (For one of my favorites, take a look at what Haagen Dazs is doing these days.) I think in this case the ad is more powerful than some are giving it credit.

Just recently, a member of a listserv to which I subscribe posted a link to a very interesting episode from Frontline called “The Persuaders.” I watched only the first chapter (which was really good, and I’m looking forward to the rest of it), and what it presented resonates with the Apple and Windows ad campaigns: When our culture is already imbued with advertising, creating a flavor that pops out from the rest is difficult but is what every ad agency tries to do, and as those agencies continue to compete, they increasingly blur the (already unclear) distinction between culture and advertising. That’s precisely what Microsoft is doing with this first commercial and apparently what it will do with its entire campaign.

So far, however, I’m more a fan of the Mac vs PC ad campaign. The commercials do well in their simplicity, comedy, and visual representation of the two operating systems/software/hardware bundles (I’m not quite sure how to describe them when “Apple” refers to all three components and “Microsoft” refers to the first two). The Mac guy is confident but not pompous, competitive but sensitive, and very human and fun. The PC guy is the nerd with glasses who could use some exercise, needs to get out of the office, and should work on catching up with the times. Would I take such a simplistic approach in identifying people in real life? No. But I do think it works here.

But I’ll let you decide.

Who’s Whispering to Whom?

I have seen a handful of episodes from the show, The Dog Whisperer, with Cesar Millan, and I’ve always been impressed by how Millan interacts with the pet owners. He always says he’s training the humans, not the dogs.

In fact, a lot of times he doesn’t call the people owners. He calls them humans, which very interestingly divorces any statement of power in the relationship — probably because these humans are often in a submissive role.

In one particular episode, Millan visits a family of four (a heterosexual couple with a daughter and son) to help a dog behave properly and not so, um, affectionately toward her humans.

Millan discusses the dog with the family, and portions of the discussion are spliced with footage of both the dog misbehaving and of Millan speaking to the camera and explaining what he notices. What he notices is just as much about the family as about the dog herself. The mother and daughter clearly dominate the discussion, he says, while the father and son remain quiet. The dog, he argues, has identified with the females in the family, and her show of love toward them, particularly the young son, has not been one of a pack member but of a pack leader over the submissive males in the family.

Fascinating. Extreme feminism exists in the canine world too.

But since “training humans” seems to be a constant theme in Millan’s show, I wonder whether counseling offices are going to begin (or already are) including animal psychologists as an indirect way of handling human problems. Hmm. Whispering to dogs in order to whisper to humans.

Here’s a segment of the show if you’re curious:

Creatures of Habit

I often go to coffee shops to work. At home too often I stare out the window or doze off, but at cafés I can only gaze off into space for so long before people will think I’m crazy. And sleeping in public is just weird. If the time comes that I’m comfortable enough to go to cafés in pajamas, it’ll be both a sad and liberating day.

There’s a coffee shop in particular I visit about once or twice a week. When I go there, I expect to get good work done, and I generally do. It’s like Pavlov’s salivating dogs and the ringing bells: For me, visiting this café = work. It’s great. I’d go every day except it’s hard to avoid conversations with other café goers now that I’m a regular (and I’ve ruined other cafés for myself by giving in), and I know I can’t sustain on a daily basis the kind of productivity I experience there, and forcing it would ruin my relationship with the venue. It’s too precious to me.

I was there one day, tucked into one of my usual spots at the edge of a long bench seat with a small round table in front of me. I was deep in my own world, typing away like mad. I sat there with walls to my back and left, laptop in front of me, decaf latte next to it, book bag to my right, and iPod somewhere in the vicinity and attached to my ears: I sufficiently blocked out the venue, sounds, and people I’d just driven out to join in the first place. Yes, my life is full of ironies.

I was lost in my own world (for several hours at that point, might I add), when a hand slid a napkin into my view. I saw something was scrawled on it in pen, but first my eyes followed the hand to find its owner. (The rhetorician in me needs context first.) A girl had sat a couple tables away at the same bench where I was seated, and she’d similarly spread her belongings in a half circle around her against her corner of the space. Our workspaces were symmetrical.

My eyes went back to the napkin, and I read her note. She asked if I knew of a book on creative directors. My brain paused. I am unfortunately one of those pitiful people who when asked a random question often blanks out and has to ask the person to repeat the question even if it was fairly clear the first time. Since the question was written down, I didn’t have to ask for a repeat, but the words swam in front of me, and I had no idea what she was asking.

I turned off my iPod, removed my ear buds, and turned to ask her what field of work or study she meant. But before I could ask my question, she took the napkin and began writing again. Was I still a student at OSU? “Yes,” I said, nodding my head and wondering how she knew me without my remembering her.

She began to write on another napkin more quickly, messed up, scribbled it out, paused, and began to look flustered. In an aloof sort of way I watched, waited, and wondered why she kept trying to write even after I’d turned off my music and given her my attention. I had work I needed to return to. And then slowly my mind began to wrap itself around this puzzle. Her gestures. The lack of any sound or utterance. And then shame began to override my impatience. She was deaf, and she was communicating the best she could with me while asking for my help.

Rather than watch her struggle with writing on a napkin, I figured she could type out her question more easily on my laptop. Perhaps, like me, she was one of those people who can’t write comfortably by hand when someone’s waiting (or for that matter parallel park when someone’s watching. Sigh).

I got her attention and pointed to my laptop. She looked relieved. I went to my email account and opened a composing space so she could type out her question more clearly, and when I handed over my laptop, she opened a new window and began searching for her book. That’s fine, I thought. Finding the book would answer my question just as well and probably even faster. With my source of work gone, I watched. And then I helped her with the book search. And then I tidied up the sentences she wrote to a librarian (recalling how confused I was by her initial question). And then I went ahead and added another sentence or two to that same note. And then she hit send. And then we got sucked into conversation.

I had questions for her (naturally), and rather than be offended at my lack of knowledge of deaf culture, she brought up various sites to show me the kind of projects she was involved in. (I wish I remember them so I could add the links here.) Using the URL space of the browser, we wrote (she started it; I wouldn’t have thought of it). Aside from Firefox 3.0 trying to preempt us with various popular addresses on the Web as we typed, our conversation went smoothly.

Our interests overlapped quite a bit: She was one of the people who produce the kind of content I analyze. Her story was that she was a graphic design artist, had been offered a new position at her company, and was researching what was involved in it. She selected one of the magazines she’d spread around her, pointed out certain features, and wrote about why certain designs and layouts appealed to her. If I didn’t have piles of work waiting for me, I would’ve had a ton more questions for her.

All the while, though — and I’m embarrassed to admit this tendency — I kept trying to figure out her pattern of error. I don’t usually sit and pick apart every writing error I see, but her patterns were unlike anything I’d seen in the years I’ve worked as a language tutor and writing instructor. It was yet another puzzle for me.

It turned out that she was Ukrainian and had learned English in a very short time. The usual cues I would have expected — an accent, pauses and “uhs” in speech — were exactly those I obviously could not hear, but I was also blind to them in writing that day. It made me think that a lot people learn languages by immersion, by being enveloped in the daily sounds and conversations that surround us. I assume, then, that a person who learns language by signing and reading is probably going to pick up certain features of language more quickly and fluently than those that a hearing person would and therefore would have different types of interferences from their other languages as well. Fascinating.

Finally, I told her about Harlot, cordially asked her to consider submitting her work to us, and then we went back to work. She got my attention again a little later, and I stopped and turned off my music. But not without a moment of hesitation. I knew my music didn’t matter, but it didn’t seem right to leave it on. It was the same feeling I get when I wear sunglasses and talk to someone who isn’t wearing any. It seems rude if I can see the other person’s eyes but that person can’t see mine. (I actually buy sunglasses now that aren’t entirely dark just so I don’t have to suffer the discomfort.)

In the end, though, I wonder whether her eyes caught the strange looks we got from someone sitting nearby or whether with the aid of her half circle of magazines, placed like a barrier around her, that she’s trained herself to block out sight of the rubberneckers. The day left me both happy at what I had learned of deaf culture but also saddened that people still shamelessly gawk at individuals with disabilities.

Public vs. Private

Shocking! According to an Associated Press article, “Israeli newspaper publishes Obama’s private prayer,” a prayer Obama reportedly left at Jerusalem’s Western Wall has been published in an Israeli newspaper.

Sure, we often shake our heads and say “nothing’s sacred anymore,” but I’m honestly surprised at this newspaper’s decision – and at the student of religion who retrieved it in the first place. Although the prayer is not confirmed as having belonged to Obama, the penmanship seems to match his hand from a note written earlier this week.

I’m a bit torn about writing on this story. Since the text of the prayer has been offered for public consumption, I can’t help but read it as a rhetorical artifact. And yet as I was writing a line-by-line analysis of the prayer, I slowly began to realize I was becoming more and more uncomfortable with my actions. The act of writing this post and giving the story more attention makes me complicit in publicizing an issue that should be ignored out of respect for an individual who just happens to be running for president, but my act of analyzing it would be even worse: It’s beyond the acts of, say, staring and shaking my head at celebrity gossip rags while standing in line at the grocery store and more like actually buying them. I hope my restraint here is adequate.

So I’ll skip the analysis and pose questions instead, which are based on my assumption that most people will believe Obama wrote the prayer: What will religious and non-religious people in the U.S. and abroad think of the prayer’s emphasis on the personal and familial for a person who hopes to oversee the wellbeing of an entire country and by extension other countries of the world as well? Does it help him that the whole world sees him asking for wisdom and for aid in remaining strong in the face of “pride and despair?” Or do such requests make him appear weak? What do they think of him asking to be an “instrument” in a time when many acts – both good and horrific – are performed in the name of religion?

I also wonder – again, assuming Obama is the author – how much of the prayer would have been composed with a larger readership in mind. I know it’s bad of me to ask such a question, but can a person in Obama’s position compose anything private and assume it will actually remain so?

In Self Preservation

On Monday, former Bosnian Serb political leader, Radovan Karadzic, one of the world’s most wanted men, was found and arrested for war crimes. Although the 63-year-old man is fighting extradition to the Hague (Netherlands), he will likely be sent away by early next week and face charges from the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY). He was captured after 13 years on the run.

. . . except he wasn’t really running. He hid in plain view.

Three parts to this story (so far, anyway) fascinate me: (1) the way Karadzic disguised himself, (2) what he has chosen as his post-arrest identity, and (3) what impact his decision to represent himself will have on his defense at the UN tribunal.

1. Many news reports are offering the same story. Karadzic practiced alternative medicine, published articles, and made professional appearances. He had a mistress, a photo of a fake family, and frequented a bar that proudly displayed photos of him and another war crimes fugitive. That he lived so freely was probably his best disguise. That he turned into a loveable “grandpa” and alternative medicine guru is second. It’s close, but it doesn’t beat the idea of a man of his former stature riding the bus.

2. Apparently, Karadzic has cleaned himself up a bit since his arrest. Says his lawyer, “He’s looking good. He had a haircut. He shaved himself and is in great shape. He now looks just like before.” But is it great that he looks just like before? Granted, some Serbian nationalists continue to revere him, but many others see him as a calculated slaughterer. Is it really in his favor to shed the “grandpa” look and re-identify himself with the image many associate with evil? This move is surprising considering the savvy he showed in his everyday maneuvering. Just because he’s no longer in hiding doesn’t mean a new appearance is of no further benefit. Is his ego winning here or does he have another agenda?

3. Last, in a nod to his predecessor at the Hague, former Serbian President Slobodan Milosevic, Karadzic has chosen to defend himself with the aid of a team of lawyers. According to several news reports, this approach was what allowed Milosevic to prolong his trial (perhaps the OJ Simpson approach of exhausting decision makers into submission is a now popular plan of attack), but, again, what does Karadzic gain by aligning himself with such an image? The moves he is making seem to be more like one of a martyr  – in this case of someone sacrificing himself only to thumb his nose at Western political forces and give hope to waning Serbian nationalists – rather than the actions of a person who seriously expects to fight for the sake of winning his freedom. Am I reading too much into his actions? Perhaps. But I can’t help but think that the downturns in his rhetorical judgment mean a downturn in his treatment of the UN legal system as well.

(On a side note, I’ve noticed how news writers are tiptoeing around certain issues. Half of the articles I read referred to “ethnic cleansing” only in quotation marks and often preceded it with “so-called.” It is still a contested term, and arguments against it include that it is vague and can imply either too much or too little. “Genocide” is an unpopular term because its usage, so the argument goes, would make post-World War II ethnic slaughters comparable to the Jewish Holocaust. “Crimes against humanity” is a moral claim that says a lot, but yet it doesn’t capture the motives or intentions in the same way as the other two terms do.)