10 Things I Liked Enough to Show You: 3–16 October 2015
Cory Doctorow's "Reputation Economy Dystopia: China's new "Citizen Scores" will rate every person in the country" at Boing Boing:
The Chinese government has announced a new universal reputation score, tied to every person in the country's nation ID number and based on such factors as political compliance, hobbies, shopping, and whether you play videogames.
Diana Bruk's "There is a Magical Little Town in Holland Where the Streets Are Made of Water" at Country Living Magazine:
There are places in this world that are so surreal and beautiful that when you first see photos of them you naturally assume they must be from a movie set. But while the tiny town of Giethoorn in northern Holland may look like it was built for a film based on a children's fairytale, this enchanted neighborhood that's built upon a network of narrow canals is actually completely real.
Debra Monroe's "My Unsentimental Education" at Longreads:
Night in the forest. Mountains in springtime. Rodney could discuss these. Maybe they filled up his senses. But he couldn’t take the next step and equate bliss in the woods with bliss he felt spending time with me. Could I live the rest of my life never hearing words like these said to me? I couldn’t. But a day later, ironing my father’s shirts, I turned sensible. Poetry was extravagance, I decided. Everyone has longings.
Bill McKibben's "Exxon's climate lie: 'No corporation has ever done anything this big or bad'" at The Guardian:
Though they draw on completely different archives, leaked documents, and interviews with ex-employees, they reach the same damning conclusion: Exxon knew all that there was to know about climate change decades ago, and instead of alerting the rest of us denied the science and obstructed the politics of global warming.
Christie Aschwanden's "What If Everything Your Doctor Told You About Breast Cancer Was Wrong?" at Mother Jones:
What scientists know and Taylor didn't is that mammography isn't the infallible tool we wanted it to be. Some things that look like cancer on a mammogram (or the biopsy that comes afterward) don't act like cancer in the body—they don't invade and proliferate in other organs. Some of the abnormalities breast screenings find will never hurt you, but we don't yet have the tools to distinguish the harmless ones from the deadly ones. And so these medical tests provoke doctors to categorize lots of merely suspicious cells in with the most dangerous cancers, which means that while some lives are saved, even more women end up with treatments they don't need.
Rebecca Solnit's "The Mother of All Questions" at Harper's Magazine:
But just because the question can be answered doesn’t mean that I ought to answer it, or that it ought to be asked. The interviewer’s question was indecent, because it presumed that women should have children, and that a woman’s reproductive activities were naturally public business. More fundamentally, the question assumed that there was only one proper way for a woman to live.
Marlon James' "From Jamaica to Minnesota to Myself" at The New York Times Magazine:
Anonymity was a sea to dive into. Stonewall was a club to pass by — I was years away from having the guts to go in. Besides, I had no friends. In store windows, I saw a person who took me by surprise at first. The Strand Book Store, Tower Records, Other Music, Shakespeare & Co.; each was a step further away from the self I had left behind in another country.
I know the about the topic of the following story intimately. I suffered through a lot of pain following a surgery for cervical cancer, despite my prescription for Dilaudid. When my partner had surgery four months later, he was prescribed a dose four times what I was given, and I realized that I was not crazy. My pain had been downplayed and then ignored.
Joe Fassler's "How Doctors Take Women's Pain Less Seriously" at The Atlantic:
I felt certain of this: The diagnosis of kidney stones—repeated by the nurses and confirmed by the attending physician’s prescribed course of treatment—was a denial of the specifically female nature of Rachel’s pain. A more careful examiner would have seen the need for gynecological evaluation; later, doctors told us that Rachel’s swollen ovary was likely palpable through the surface of her skin. But this particular ER, like many in the United States, had no attending OB-GYN. And every nurse’s shrug seemed to say, “Women cry—what can you do?”