An Addendum to the Last Post, on Fatphobia and Health

And one I meant to put into it, but as I said, I’m having cognitive problems. And now I think about it, it’s a separate point.

I went to the doctor with my back pain a long time ago — about three years, if I remember right — and was told it was simply my weight that was the problem. The doctor in question performed only the most cursory examination, and didn’t refer me to a specialist. I believed her that my weight might be causing the problem — it seemed reasonable, because I am very fat, and that weight would be carried by my back muscles. So I didn’t bring it up with my normal GP — I decided it was just something I was going to have to live with.


Thirty percent of people with psoriasis get psoriatic arthritis, with it usually coming on between the ages of thirty and fifty-five (I was about thirty-four at the time).
Even if she didn’t read my medical notes, this was before I’d started on the successful treatment I’m using for the psoriasis, and so my entire torso was covered in red, scaly, sores. Even the cursory examination she gave me couldn’t have missed them.
The back pain I was experiencing, in that precise location, is one of the classic early symptoms of psoriatic arthritis.

Had that doctor seen me as a patient to be treated, rather than as a case of obesity — had she spent even a few seconds thinking about the obvious — I would have received treatment for the psoriatic arthritis three years ago. I wouldn’t have three years of accumulated joint damage, and I wouldn’t have had all the other awful symptoms.

And this is normal. This is what happens to fat people. And then we’re told that fat people have worse health outcomes than the rest of you. Gosh, I wonder why?

Health Update

A few of you who’ve been around here for a few years will have noticed that I’ve not been able to blog as much over the last year or two as previously (shamefully I’ve even missed my Patreon target occasionally, though I hope the free books and so on made up for that). I’ve committed to writing blog posts that then haven’t been written, and I’ve not been as clever as I was.
The reason for that is that, sometime in the last three to five years, my health changed dramatically. I got a variety of stress-related illnesses I’d not had before, and while changing jobs lowered my blood pressure, I’ve remained permanently fatigued. I’ve long thought that was just because I was overworked, but… I’m going to be frank here, the exhaustion has been so bad that for much of the last few months I have actually wished for death, because being this tired is unbearable.
I assumed until recently that the fatigue was because of my sleep conditions (one incurable, the other being treated with CPAP), but apparently it isn’t…
I also, around three years ago, developed an intermittent bad back, which sometimes makes it impossible to stand upright for more than two minutes at a time — I’ve occasionally had to *crawl* upstairs to bed, because I’ve been unable to walk.
I went to the doctor about this, and was seen by a doctor other than my normal GP. She prescribed me paracetamol and told me that the problem was that I was too fat and I should walk more to lose weight.
Last year I developed what I thought was RSI, which again comes on only intermittently, but makes it agony to type when it does. I did some things to make my workspace slightly more ergonomic, and hoped that would work long enough that speech-to-text would be usable and I wouldn’t have to lose my livelihood.
Then, about six months ago, my feet started to swell up, and the soles of my feet became intensely painful. And my right shoulder started to hurt if I raised my arm more than slightly.

Anyway, it turns out (I had this confirmed at a hospital appointment yesterday) that all those are symptoms of psoriatic arthritis. For the last several years, I have had arthritis and just been thinking I’m a bit tired and achy. This is why back in 2010 or so I could, in a typical week, work sixty hours at my day job, write ten thousand words of usable stuff, and campaign for five or six hours on the Saturday, while in a typical week now I do thirty-five hours at the day job, most of them in a near-narcoleptic daze, write two blog posts, one of them an apology for not having written something else, and bow out of a Lib Dem event because I’m too tired. I have huge piles of unread comics and magazines, some dating back literally years, because even reading Daredevil or something can be too taxing for me.

However, it turns out that psoriatic arthritis is one of the more treatable types. It may turn out to be a while before we find the right treatment for me (and I won’t be able to start treatment until January, for a variety of reasons) — and annoyingly the first treatment they want to try might make the fatigue *worse*, not better — but I now have the prospect of this getting better *eventually*. There may be a point where I’m not exhausted, one day.

This might also — no promises — mean that I get back to regular posting, even before I start treatment. Now that I know that the tiredness is *not* lack of sleep, but an inflammatory response to overproduction of cytokines by an overactive immune system, I won’t be able to kid myself that “I’m too tired to write a post today, but maybe I’ll be less tired in the morning, so I’ll do it then” (I know that’s a stupid thing to think, but my judgment has also been impaired. For years.) So I’ll be more likely to just think “I’m going to be this tired until at least January, so I’ll just *do it*”.

Bear with me. It may well be that this year is the lowest point that this blog ever reaches in terms of content. (That said, I don’t think I’ve done *too* badly, productivity-wise, this year — I’ve released a novel, a non-fiction book that’s twice the length of any of my previous ones, and a booklet on Grant Morrison, and written tens of thousands of words on Batman…). Next year I may be back to who I was in 2010…

How Do I Become An Effective Campaigner?

I used to be an extremely good, effective, political campaigner. Now I’m a liability. I want to change that.

In 2010, during the General Election, I delivered so many leaflets that I amazed even several of the hardier campaigner — for several years, one of our then-councillors would talk about how “we gave him a pile of leaflets and pointed him in the right direction, *AND HE JUST KEPT GOING*!”
Between 2009 and 2012, I gave up every Saturday, first for the No2ID campaign, then for the AV campaign, then to campaign for the re-election of a local councillor.

But this year, on election day, I was given fifty leaflets to deliver and had to sit down three times while delivering them.
I was chosen for my local party’s executive in late 2013, but had to give up after a year because I was doing such a bad job I was holding other people back from getting things done.

The reason for this change is that I’ve had a series of health crises, starting in 2011 and getting progressively worse. At first, I thought they were purely down to work-related stress, but it seems more and more likely that there is also a physical component (being investigated at the moment). I tire so easily that some nights I’m in bed for 7PM (more often, though, I can’t sleep at all til three or four in the morning). I’ve had back problems (currently better than they have been, but it comes and goes) that at times are so bad I can’t stand up long enough to take a shower.

And the mental and physical energy it takes to cope with those things means that I’ve not been good at other stuff. I think I’ve written good stuff in the last three years or so (I think Head of State may be the best thing I’ve ever written, and I like The Adventure Of The Piltdown Prelate a lot too) but I’ve written a lot less of the freewheeling, playful stuff that I love writing — that requires more mental work than I’ve been consistently capable of, and I’ve only been able to do a few things like that per year, rather than a few a week.

In the same way, I simply don’t have the energy for the social events that bind a political party together. Dealing with people is hard for me at the best of times, and the last three years have not been the best. I think I’m doing better overall than I have in several years, but some worrying physical symptoms say that might not last.

For a long time, my way of dealing with this has been to *not* deal, to assume this will be a temporary condition, and the energy I had in, say, 2011 will return Real Soon Now. I still hope it will, but I’ve been letting people down for three years now, and I don’t like it.

So this Parliament, I want to be ruthless about my priorities, in case I’m still this ill in five years’ time. I *HOPE* that I’ll soon be able to give up a full day a week to campaigning, as I used to, but right now I can give *at most* an hour a week, and that’s not certain.

So I want to concentrate on a very small number of things. From a national political perspective my aims are:
At least doubling the Lib Dems’ share of the vote by 2020
Getting STV implemented, no matter who the next government is
Getting basic income or negative income tax made Lib Dem policy

Obviously when I say “my aims” here, I mean “things I hope to happen and to make a small difference towards” — no matter how efficiently I use my time, me doing one hour a week isn’t going to achieve those things.

But given the limitation that I can probably only do one hour a week MAX, probably less, only on weekend afternoons, and that I’m rubbish with people and have limited mobility, what do people think is the most effective way I can campaign for those things? Any suggestions would be *very* gratefully received…

Nerdy Boys, @PennyRed, Scott Aaronson and Male Privilege

EDIT 01/01/15: Since I wrote this, Scott Aaronson has written a follow-up post, in which he says, in particular:

The second concession is that, all my life, I’ve benefited from male privilege, white privilege, and straight privilege. I would only add that, for some time, I was about as miserable as it’s possible for a person to be, so that in an instant, I would’ve traded all three privileges for the privilege of not being miserable. And if, as some suggested, there are many women, blacks, and gays who would’ve gladly accepted the other side of that trade—well then, so much the better for all of us, I guess. “Privilege” simply struck me as a pompous, cumbersome way to describe such situations: why not just say that person A’s life stinks in this way, and person B’s stinks in that way? If they’re not actively bothering each other, then why do we also need to spread person A’s stink over to person B and vice versa, by claiming they’re each “privileged” by not having the other one’s?

However, I now understand why so many people became so attached to that word: if I won’t use it, they think it means I think that sexism, racism, and homophobia don’t exist, rather than just that I think people fixated on a really bad way to talk about these problems.

I think he’s still rather missing the point, but he’s *trying* to get the point, and it’s worth reading his post before reading what follows.

This is going to be both more personal than I normally get, and more emotionally draining, so before I get started properly, here’s a song that felt apropos:

Over the last couple of days, a comment on Scott Aaronson’s blog has been doing the rounds a lot. The comment was originally posted a couple of weeks back, but Slate Star Codex linked it in a link roundup and it’s spread since then. In part, Aaronson claims that “being a nerdy male… put me into one of society’s least privileged classes” because “I was terrified that one of my female classmates would somehow find out that I sexually desired her, and that the instant she did, I would be scorned, laughed at, called a creep and a weirdo, maybe even expelled from school or sent to prison.”

Laurie Penny wrote a response to this, first on her Facebook and then on the New Statesman website (which I hate having to link to, because I do not approve of the transphobia that’s a semi-regular part of that site’s editorial policy, which in my view makes it a hate site; unfortunately the liberal/left commentariat disagree with me…), which has also been getting linked a lot, and which says that yes, Aaronson has suffered, but that suffering does not eradicate his male privilege, and is effectively orthogonal to him being male, since women also suffer in similar ways.

Before I go any further, I want to say that I admire both Aaronson and Penny. I’ve read every blog post Aaronson has posted for about the last six years, he’s increased my understanding of quantum physics, computer science, and the basics of mathematics far more than any of my university lecturers ever did (though I still don’t understand those things as well as I should), and I think his Quantum Computing Since Democritus is the best book in what we might call the hard-pop-science category since Feynman’s QED.

Laurie Penny, meanwhile, I’ve vaguely known in an internet-acquaintance way for about eight years. I don’t know her well, but we used to be LiveJournal friends back when that was a thing, we’re Facebook friends, we follow each other on Twitter, and we have a bunch of mutual friends. I think she’s got the right instincts, even when I disagree with her on the details, and while a lot of her pronouncements end up sounding silly, much of the criticism she receives is because she’s a young, good-looking, woman, rather than because of anything she actually says.

I say this, because I don’t want people to think that anything that follows is personal. Well, it is… but it’s personal about me.

I think Laurie is misunderstanding, slightly, the problems Aaronson’s talking about. I had pretty much precisely the same life experiences as Aaronson, to the point that I almost cried reading his comment.

I didn’t lose my virginity until I was twenty-four, because I’m fat, ugly, and aspie. I still, in my late thirties, have crippling anxiety problems related to the idea that any woman, even my wife, could possibly find me attractive. I also, no doubt, in my late teens and early twenties, came off as creepy once or twice due to my lack of understanding of the rules, but far, far more often just removed myself from situations where the rules might matter. From puberty til my mid-twenties, my *only* experience of my own sexuality — the *only* framework I had for it — was as a source of shame, frustration, worry, and utter terror that should any woman I found attractive ever suspect for one second I was attracted to her she would be so revolted that I would actually be causing her harm by letting her know. That will never leave me, and is a large part of the reason for my ongoing mental health problems.

The idea that I grew up with — and this is not something unique to me, but is something that many, many, intelligent, socially-awkward, physically-unattractive but basically decent men have suffered from — is that me being attracted to a woman, any woman, is an unwelcome, unwanted, burden upon her, and that the only decent thing to do is not act upon that attraction *in any way whatsoever*. That’s not something anyone should have to suffer.

I know women — many of them — who have had the same experiences Laurie’s talking about, and while of course one can’t ever judge someone else’s mental state, I can say that the experiences are not comparable. They’re two very specific kinds of hell, and I will bear the scars of what I went through forever. I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that every problem my marriage has ever had has been directly because of my own messed-up feelings on this matter. (Don’t worry about that sentence — my marriage is, as far as I’m any judge, incredibly strong. But it hasn’t always been, and when it hasn’t, it’s been because of that.)

As one of the few examples I can point to directly without revealing even more of my life than I have here, or than I ever want to, a year or so back I was at a party and a (female) friend said, in passing “you’re a good-looking man”. Without thinking, I immediately blurted out “Bullshit!”, because I’ve been so hardwired with the idea that any kind of sexual attention from me must be a horribly unwelcome burden that my brain makes it go the other way too — anything said by any woman that indicates even in the most innocuous way that I may be desirable is immediately shot down, often (at least in my head, though I hope rarely in reality) quite aggressively.

I think the problem Laurie is talking about when she talks about the horrible time a teenage girl has, and the problem Scott Aaronson was talking about, are two very different things, and I don’t think it’s helpful to compare them.

But even so, even as I was nearly in tears at the similarity of Aaronson’s horrible experiences to my own, as soon as I got to the point where Scott Aaronson said he doesn’t have privilege, I just thought “oh, come ON! SURELY you’re not that stupid?”

Like Aaronson, I am a white, English-speaking, cis, het, intelligent male with no visible disabilities. I have been able to find jobs in the past for which I was unqualified, simply because my face fit. When I was unemployed after leaving university, I had no pressure from the Job Centre because “Oh, you’ll have NO problem getting a job”. Except when there’s a football match on I can walk down the street without fear of any violence.

Scott Aaronson has all these advantages, plus the advantage of having been able to attend one of the best universities in the world thanks to his background, and having had the support he needed to become a professor in a field he loves. To say he’s one of the least privileged people there are, simply because in one (admittedly important, admittedly upsetting) area of his life things didn’t go perfectly for him as they have in every other area, shows a cluelessness that’s hard to comprehend.

And this is important, because Aaronson is saying that nerdy men have no privilege — are, in fact, one of the least privileged groups around — and therefore shouldn’t be held responsible for the lack of women getting jobs in STEM fields. And in fact, it’s precisely this kind of attitude, this lack of understanding of our privilege, that *does* cause that.

To take one example, I used to work at a very big technology company whose name you probably know. In one meeting, my then-manager complained about having to do diversity training. “Look at us,” he said, “we’re a pretty diverse bunch!”

The group of people in the room at the time were all male, all without visible disabilities, and all (as far as I had been made aware) cis and straight. In the office we were working in, which had between fifty and eighty people working there over the few years I was there, there was no point at which there were more than three women working there — usually there were only two, and one was the admin/receptionist.

I don’t want to say conclusively that the blame for that lies all in one direction of course, but there were a *lot* of nerdy men working there, and not a lot of radical feminists…

Man can hurt. Men can hurt badly, and in ways that women can’t really understand. Not enough is done about those types of hurt, and not enough is done to even acknowledge that they exist.

But that doesn’t mean male privilege is not real. In fact, as far as I can see, male privilege is in large part the cause of those hurts. Well-meaning men like Scott Aaronson or myself (and Aaronson definitely means well — he’s one of the good guys) should acknowledge that despite those hurts, we are still in many other ways the beneficiaries of a huge systematic imbalance in power, and that correcting that will, as well as being the right thing to do morally, get rid of those hurts. And it will also get rid of the horrors that women go through, as Laurie Penny describes, and if we do it properly it’ll get rid of the suffering that people who are neither men nor women go through, which I can only imagine is not comparable to either and probably worse than both.

We need to get rid of the state of society in which anyone at all feels that their gender expression or (consensual) sexual desires are wrong, or disgusting, or make them less than human, so no-one has to feel like Aaronson did. There’s a whole movement devoted to doing just that. It’s called feminism.

[Note about comments: This post discusses both my own personal life in a way I’m very far from comfortable doing in public, and political issues which can often lead to very heated discussion. I am going to be far firmer than normal about deleting comments and banning commenters, and am going to ask that if you’re going to make a nitpicky or angry comment you first reread the whole post at least three times to make sure that I actually said what you think you said, and that you then bear in mind the comment policy an internet friend has in place, which I think will be useful here — “Your comment should be at least two out of kind, interesting, useful & correct. If you can’t manage that, don’t post it.”

Also, a favour — in the unlikely event you share this on Facebook, please don’t tag me. There are people I’m FB friends with, who I believe are not regular readers of this blog, and who I would rather didn’t see this.]

I was going to do a political post today, but it turns out that I have something to say about that nasty little wankstain whose name doesn’t deserve to be mentioned, who murdered those people.

People are saying it’s “because he had Asperger’s”. No. I’ve got Asperger’s. Number of people I’ve murdered — zero. And no, contra Septicisle it would not “account for his wholesale lack of empathy”. People with Asperger’s do not lack empathy — at least not to any greater extent than neurotypicals. This is a pernicious myth based on the idiot Simon Baron-Cohen idiotically using the word “empathy” in two contradictory ways in his laughably wrong research. See (that site’s down at the moment, but see, for example, here in the Wayback Machine), and note that the “cognitive empathy” which we apparently lack is actually an inability to read neurotypical body language and tone well just as neurotypicals have even more difficulty reading our body language and tone . Saying that people with Asperger’s have problems with empathy is like saying that someone from Sweden, who speaks Swedish perfectly well but can only speak English with a strong accent, has a “language problem” because someone from England who can’t speak Swedish at all has difficulty understanding her. It’s just wrong.

And that difficulty reading body language and tone a communication problem that goes both ways — does not mean that we have problems with what Baron-Cohen calls “affective empathy”, which is what everyone else just calls empathy. That emotional capacity — being happy in someone else’s happiness, being sad for someone else’s pain, and so forth — is, according to most recent studies, something people with Asperger’s have more of than neurotypicals.

So thanks, Simon Baron-Cohen, once again you’ve got people saying that my neurology, and that of millions of innocent, good, people, makes someone a killer. Thanks.

“It’s because he had mental health problems”. Again, no. I have mental health problems. No massacres.

Most perniciously of all, though, they’re saying he killed them “because he was a virgin who was turned down by women”.

No, no, a thousand times no.

It’s horribly embarrassing to admit it, even twelve years on, let alone say it in public, but when I turned twenty-four I was still a virgin, because I was physically unattractive and socially inept. I still to this day have psychological problems rooted in all the rejection I experienced.

And you know what? No mass murders. Because I knew the problem was with me.

I did (and I’m deeply ashamed of it) go through a bit of a “nice guy” phase in my late teens, but it would never have occurred to me in a million years to kill anyone, or write a 110,000 word rant about how all women are evil even then, let alone in my mid 20s.

So no, those things aren’t to blame. If they were, I’d have been a mass murderer too.

What is to blame is that wankstain being a vicious, hateful, misogynist. Rejection doesn’t turn you into one of them. But being one of them may well make people reject you.

So no, the girl who turned him down when he was twelve didn’t “make him” do it. Nor did any other woman. Not wanting to have sex with someone you find unattractive (for what seems very good reason in this case) does not turn them into a killer. Nor does having Asperger’s (if indeed he did). Nor having mental health problems.

None of those things are why he did it, and we know they aren’t why he did it, because they’re all things that have happened to many, many, other people, who don’t go around killing people. Luckily, we do know why he did it. He went to great lengths to tell us. It was because he believed the pernicious ideology of “Men’s Rights Activists” and “Pick-Up Artists”, the ideology that says that women are less than human and need to be dominated by “Alpha” men. The ideology that says that men are owed sex by women. The ideology that says that if you’ve been rejected, it’s not because of you, it’s because of her, and she must be punished. The ideology of whiny, angry, entitled men everywhere.

Funny how people with hateful right-libertarian-MRA ideologies are so big on personal responsibility right up to the point that it looks like one of them was personally responsible for something, eh?

(Election post tomorrow. This week should also see a post on Cerebus, a California Dreaming post, and reviews of the Magic Band and Rutles gigs I’m going to if they’re different enough from last year’s to merit new reviews).

Just a brief note

I’m still not being very good about a lot of communication stuff, like replying to emails, or to helpful comments left in my blog posts, so I thought I’d post a brief explanation about this.

For 18 months or so now, I’ve been suffering from various stress-related illnesses — mostly psoriasis, asthma and migraine, but also, on occasion, hypertension. My blood pressure is currently bouncing around between about 150/90 and 186/112, and for those of you who know anything about blood pressure, you’ll know that’s not good.

When my stress levels are up, my thought processes become fuzzy, and while I’m still capable of composing blog posts (which take increased effort, but are still possible), my ability at any kind of real-time interaction becomes near-nonexistent, and it takes so long to formulate a reply that it becomes pointless to do so. This is also why my Twittering has been less frequent in that time.

This is also a principal reason, incidentally, why I’ve not posted much about politics in the last year or so. I don’t actually want to have written on my death certificate “Cause of death: Massive stroke due to arguing with idiots on the internet”

There are things in place to help me get well, and slowly they seem to be working, but it will take time. In the meantime, I wanted you all to know that I’m very grateful for all the (non-trolling) comments I get, and I appreciate the small community that exists around this blog very much.