2026-11-15 11:46:00
I do not consider myself a good person. I am lazy and frivolous and inconsiderate, I care too much about intelligence and status, I am a snob and a hypocrite, and I do not call my mother enough.
I don't mean this to read as self-hatred, nor a show of false modesty. Among all the people I know there is only a scant handful of people I would consider genuinely good, and so it is unremarkable to me that I wouldn't find myself amongst their number.
You do not need to be good to desire more goodness in the world. It is good for everyone when things are good, and when there is more of it — more thoughtfulness, more generosity, more coordination, more care, more beauty, more clarity, more positive sum trades, more sophistication and elegance in our solutions and resolutions.
Increasing the amount of goodness in the world is an urgent project. The world really sucks right now, and even in the wealthiest enclaves of the imperial core there is an immense amount of suffering.
To reach the healed world would be a massive complicated undertaking. It is such a massive complicated undertaking that it is not enough for only those who are intrinsically good to work on it. There simply aren’t enough of them.
If it is desirable (as I contend) for morally mediocre people like me to work on the project, it would not be enough to appeal to their innate goodness, for they have not that much of it to be appealed to. You will need to offer me things that are more base, like status and money and the affirmation that I am a good person (for everyone wants to be a virtuous person and to be recognized as such, whether or not they are).
Fortuitously, there was an instructive breakthrough around a decade ago: effective altruism. Here's approximately what that is: you take people who come from the morally bankrupt culture that is the western professional managerial class, and you give us the prestige and status and affirmation of virtue we neurotically crave for the trivial cost of ten percent of our income and a few weekends a year where we are subject to vegan food and like sixteen hours of one-on-one discussions with a bunch of earnest dorks. As a result, suddenly a contingent of this culture begins to compete in a new arena of QALYs and utilons and eyestalk ablation literature reviews rather than the traditional arena of summer home square footage and the number of Michelin star restaurants one has set foot in.
Put it that way, and it doesn't sound so different from the beautiful promise of capitalism: that if we can successfully align the system with human values, it will result in some sort of elegant virtuous cycle such that people can go about selfishly pursuing their self-interested goals, and end up pouring immense amounts of goodness into the world as a side product.
As a mediocre person, it does sure seem self-evident to me that the only way to get mediocre people to do good, en masse, is to generate more selfish incentives for doing so. Whether capitalism has successfully done that is discoursebait I will leave to more foolhardy poasters.1 What I know for sure is that effective altruism did this for me. I dedicate much more of my energy and my money towards the reduction of suffering of sentient beings than I otherwise would, by a really really really wide margin.
It did this by not only appealing to some of my best instincts, but also some of my ugly ones, and ones that are simply mammalian. The community gave me peers that respected me and pushed me towards more virtuousness. I have recognition for my talents, and social status, and the occasional extra bag of money bit of funding when I do things that are unusually aligned with their goals. Insofar as engaging in effective altruism makes me do more improving things for the world than I would otherwise, it seems wise to continue to engage with it: to reap all of the rewards and allow myself to enjoy them to the fullest without guilt, such that I have as much motivation as I can get to continue to do good things for the world.
I am impure, so perhaps it is unsurprising that I've always disliked purity in my politics. Stringent, inhuman standards do not seem to me like the most effective way to increase the amount of goodness in the world. More specifically, stringent, inhuman standards will get you the small minority of humans who are inhumanly virtuous, and leave the rest of us out. To me that feels like leaving resources on the table.
I am not a good person, but I am a better one than I was before people started paying me in tangibles and intangibles to act like one. I would like as many people as possible to experience this privilege. For that to be the case, we will need to be thoughtful about how to bring more people into the fold — how to create a culture in which it is easier for people to be good.
...And my footnotes. I recognize that neither capitalism or the effective altruist ecosystem is as well aligned as its ideal versions would be, but this does not overly trouble me. Alignment problems of all kinds are wicked and difficult, and it makes sense to me that the very complicated ones (that won’t kill us imminently) might take up to centuries to straighten out. As long as there is continual improvement, I feel okay with the slowness of the bend towards justice.↩
2026-11-15 06:27:55
When I have a random flare up of my chronic illnesses (or my treatment stops working), my free time is no longer something I have much control over. It's constrained and controlled by illness management. Most of it is dedicated to doing the bare minimum, getting myself through the day, distracting myself, managing pain, and resting - it's what I have to do to either endure it or not worsen it. That's a very common experience for basically all chronically ill people.
From the outside it looks like self care, like some really good me-time: Taking baths, napping, scrolling, getting massages, immersing yourself in something easy you can handle right now, for hours a day, weeks, taking it slow and not doing much. Like retreating into your own cocoon. People in your life are waiting on you to reemerge better and ready to go; you got your fill of lonesome me-time after all.
From the inside, it's different: You feel limited in what you can do and how much of it, so the things you do are the only things you can do, but not necessarily want to do. Lying in bed (usually a nice activity) suddenly isn't a voluntary choice, it's forced upon you, and maybe it's in a hospital, too. It doesn't feel particularly replenishing when it's most of what you can do. Maybe you wanted to do this other thing for four hours, but only got to do it for one. This flare up broke your routine, and you wanna get back to it when you finally can. This or that hobby has to pause until you feel better, and no hot bath can change that. You're falling behind in the things you need to do. It's not really feeling like self care, it feels more like a prison sentence, and things keep piling up, both physically and emotionally.
In other people's eyes, once this silly flare up is over, they expect that you are finally available again and have time for them - to go out, to engage in hobbies together, to spend more time actively doing something instead of them just taking care of you or waiting for you. They too may have kept a backlog in their head for what they wanna do with you once you're well again.
For the chronically ill person, the list of things they want to do has been piling up over weeks as well; and once they feel better, they're invested in getting their time back and finally getting to do the things they enjoy or that they were prevented from doing. Maybe that means doing more things more intensely to make up for the weeks they couldn't.
Yes, that may include other people too, like being happy that you are finally well enough to go to that meetup or make it to the concert with your friends, but more often than not, it also includes very isolated hobbies that can be done independently, often at home - they're most suitable for chronic illness, after all.
In my case, that may be things like exercising, or studying for more hours and catching up on the study load I had to drop, writing blog posts for a couple hours, finally taking on more cases for my volunteering position again, working away on my reading backlog, playing games for longer, and more. This results in possibly not getting my attention for basically the entire day, if I don't catch myself and make a dedicated effort to reach out to people, take breaks, and actively choose to spend time with my wife even if I have a list of other things in my head, for example.
It's kinda terrible, because for quite a while, you might not be able to do much of anything at all while the people in your life are patiently waiting. Then when you can, you feel like you have to use these precious good illness days and first pour into yourself, while possibly neglecting others who had hoped that finally, you'd be open to more time and activities together... with the full you, not the brain-fogged, dimmed version of you.
Being aware of this is the first step, but it's hard to manage the different expectations and find a good balance, especially if the hobby can't just be shared, needs quiet or focus, or can't easily be done in just small chunks.
It's difficult for me because I really need to immerse myself and end an activity when I feel like it, not because of external constraints. Stopping prematurely or being interrupted makes it hard for me to emotionally regulate or focus on anything else. I also have enough stuff to do to just fill an entire day and more. I'd just keep going if unchecked, and my hobbies and interests are really independent.
Chronic illness can be weirdly selfish... and maybe, that is somewhat unavoidable. One week it's about what feels good to you right now during all the pain, another week is about what you can or cannot do in this limited state and full of no's, the next week is all about what you want to do now that you're feeling good. It's just us, us, us and our needs. It looks like we spend our newfound energy running away from everyone. That can be especially painful to people that actively take care of us.
Some weeks, our own plate is so full with illness-related things that we have a hard time checking in with anyone about their lives and problems or helping them with anything, and then the other weeks, we're too busy by ourselves playing catchup with our goals and desires that fell by the wayside that we once again don't do it. That cycle may repeat.
It's easy to be almost completely unaware of this recurring pattern, but it deserves to be addressed and talked about. There needs to be some understanding by the a chronically ill person's surroudings that once things are going well again, there is a strong desire to finally make up for lost time, even alone, and that the sick time was not fulfilling me-time at all; but there also needs to be awareness on the side of the chronically ill person that it's easy for them to lose sight of others when constantly managing something so personal that puts their own needs front and center.
Published
2026-11-15 06:07:00
last updated 4 hours, 22 minutes ago
knowember is a challenge from robert birming, basically an about but we're all answering the same questions!
this is from Halloween. i was a generic witch type character or just dressed as Halloween as a theme?
olu is fine! olu online for disambiguation reasons online. niyi-awosusi is my surname.
the southwest of england! i miss london less and less each day, but i do still miss the tube and buses.
life, technology, and how the two meet and interact, as well the ethics of technology.
if you're a blogger you should do knowember too!!!!
this is my fourteenth post in my writing month challenge, which i decided is "one post for each day of november".
if you liked this post, please:
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2026-11-15 01:50:10
Odds are, you won’t get it. Maybe a small percentage.
If you’ve seen the same movies I have, the soon-to-depart are at home in their comfortable, white linen beds, surrounded by family, the light perfect through the window, their face in a beatific glow, a sublime peace for a life well lived, ready for whatever’s next.
I’m not a professional in this world, but I am at the age where friends and family have navigated this road, and spent endless hours in (US) assisted living facilities, observing, listening. The one common theme is that they didn’t think it would be like this.
You will probably be cared for by underpaid strangers who are responsible for 20 or more people at any one time. Turnover is high. You make up stories about them. The caregivers are angels if they talk to you for one extra minute, they resent or hate you if they rush away. The food is too bland or overspiced, the room too hot or too cold, the TV too quiet or too loud. You have pains and discomfort you can’t explain and the meds they give you don’t help. You might be doubled up with a roommate making scary sounds and smells. You control nothing. You are bored and terrified.
Paying more won’t save you. Residents in $10K+ per month facilities have pretty much the same experience, but with higher ceilings, landscaped grounds, two or three meal choices instead of none, maybe a shuttle bus with a logo on it.
What you do get, maybe, are a few good moments. Where you can laugh and genuinely connect with someone amidst the decidedly uncinematic reality you’re living.
Some go quick, the hospice nurse told me. When they’ve decided they’re ready. Some wait to be alone, others when people are with them, telling them it’s okay to let go.
My mom just finished her journey on this road. Two years, give or take, where this independent woman was utterly dependent. Combative, depressed, only in rare moments anything you could call even approximately happy. Almost everything above she experienced. But she did get to pass, as she wanted, with family in the room. That much the universe did allow.
2026-11-15 00:31:14
My friend Jaelynn Scott, a Black trans socialist, just won a seat in the Washington State House. On the same ballot, Washington voters passed Initiative 638, which makes girls get a healthcare provider to vouch for their sex before they can play certain school sports. One result is worth celebrating. The other is worth fighting.
Jaelynn Scott
My good friend Jaelynn Scott is headed to Olympia. Voters in the 37th District elected her to the Washington State House, and she will be there as exactly who she is: a Black trans woman and a member of the Democratic Socialists of America. I could not be prouder of her.
In that same election, voters statewide passed Initiative 638. It bars trans girls from certain girls’ school sports and requires every student who wants to compete in those sports to have a healthcare provider verify her sex first. I have spent the days since sitting with how good one result feels and how ugly the other one is. To understand why the second one matters, you have to look at what it actually asks of a kid, how few kids it was written for, and what it says about a state that also elected my friend.
Start with the text. Under I-638, a student who wants to compete in a covered girls-only school sport has to submit a signed statement from her healthcare provider as part of her sports physical. The provider has to base that verification on one or more of three things: reproductive anatomy, genetics, or naturally produced testosterone levels.
Supporters will point out that the initiative does not require a new genital exam for every girl, and that providers may be able to sign using medical information they already have. That’s true. But the law expressly makes reproductive anatomy a basis for deciding whether a kid gets to play, and it leaves open the possibility of an intimate exam for any student whose provider needs more information before signing.
Think about what that means. Washington has written a child’s reproductive anatomy into the paperwork for joining a team. Dressing it up as part of a routine sports physical does not make it any less creepy or weird.
Picture a middle schooler who wants to run track with her friends. A sports physical makes sense when it’s about whether she can exercise safely. Now the state wants a provider to certify something intimate about her before she can compete. Maybe the provider can sign off using her chart. Maybe her family has to figure out what else the provider needs, find another appointment, or pay for a test. Either way, every girl on the team is subject to the same requirement.
Some families will not have the time, money or patience to sort it out before tryouts. Some kids will decide they would rather skip the season than have that conversation at all. Those kids are not trans girls. They are the girls this law claims to protect.
The scrutiny will not land evenly, either. Think of the girl who develops differently from her classmates, or the girl who already gets called a boy because of how she looks. Girls already put up with plenty of commentary about their bodies. School sports could be one place where they get to care more about what their bodies can do.
Now consider who this law was written for. The Washington Interscholastic Activities Association told KUOW it was aware of around ten transgender student athletes statewide in a typical year. The association does not officially track that number, and the estimate covers transgender athletes generally, so it cannot tell us exactly how many trans girls compete on girls’ teams. But it tells us the scale. Washington put a new condition on every girl in covered sports to exclude a group of kids you could fit on a single bench.
I get why a kid who has trained all season cares about where she places. I’d care, too. But a conversation about a particular event, age group or level of competition is miles away from a blanket rule for school sports. I-638 reaches the kid trying out for her first team and the teenager running for a state title alike. It treats trans girls as a problem before any of them has even shown up to practice.
And if we are serious about more girls getting to play, there is real work to do. Can a kid afford the gear? Is there a ride home after practice? Does her school even offer the sport she wants to play? Those questions sound mundane next to a statewide culture war. They matter a hell of a lot to the kid who can’t get home from practice.
Jaelynn’s win deserves to be celebrated on its own terms. My friend ran for office as a democratic socialist, and her neighbors trusted her with the job. I’m glad they’ll have her in Olympia. There is a real difference between seeing trans people talked about as the subject of a ballot measure and seeing a trans woman elected to make decisions about housing, schools and everything else a state legislature does.
To be fair to the facts: her race was decided by one district, and I-638 went before the whole state. The results cannot tell us how any individual voter came down on both. But the contradiction is real. In the same week, one part of Washington sent a Black trans socialist to Olympia with a mandate to govern, and a statewide majority voted to make it harder for trans girls to take part in ordinary school life. Both things happened, and my pride in my friend does not make the second one any easier to accept.
Go back to that middle schooler. She wants to find out if she’s any good at track. Maybe she’s fast. Maybe she’s terrible. Maybe her favorite part is riding the bus to an away meet with her friends. All of that is hers to figure out, and none of it should start with a provider certifying her body to the state.
And to the voters who backed I-638 because it sounded like fairness: read what it actually asks of every girl in this state. A handful of trans kids was never the threat. Washington showed this week that it can trust a trans woman to govern. It can trust a trans girl to run track.
2026-11-15 00:19:12
Robert Birming came up with this challenge and I thought I would give it a go.
A portrait of the author in her natural habitat. Yes that is my wardrobe behind me, it makes a good background.
My name is Lynsey. My friends and family often call me Lyns for short.
My blog name comes from the song Qwerty Finger by Everything Everything. As well as being a great track, I thought it would make a really cool username for someone who likes to blog. It's been used as a log in for at least one website I've long forgotten and as the title of a (very) short lived blog.
Manchester, England. Mostly from a tablet, sometimes from a phone. I need a new laptop.
My blog is mostly anything I'm interested in or comes into my head. I try to avoid writing about more "serious" stuff as (1) I made this to be a stress free space for myself and those who visit and (2) nobody needs to hear me rant about politics (I can't guarantee that I won't slip at some point).