This is a good moment to talk about what this blog was
supposed to be about. It was literally supposed to be a deep dive into useless
things that I just stumbled on. Instead, I mostly complain and judge in the
written form about whatever I very intentionally come across. This is,
therefore, possibly the first post where I actually stumbled onto something and
then read up on it for seven hours straight. I stumbled onto an ad
for Malcom Gladwell’s new book ‘Talking with Strangers’ and decided I should
throw a day away obsessing over which of his books to read, if any. Yes, I am
that suggestible.
Malcolm Gladwell is a very famous Canadian journalist, who
is primarily known for his work for the New Yorker. I know of the New Yorker,
but it would be extremely pretentious of me to act as if I have been reading
this sophisticated magazine that is mentioned in any TV series when trying to
portray someone as an intellectual. I instead know of Malcolm Gladwell through
his podcast, ‘Revisionist History’, ‘a podcast about things overlooked and
misunderstood’, as the tagline reads. Podcasts probably don’t hold the same
valour as a well-established, prestigious magazine but listening to this
podcast makes me feel a tad more intellectual, just as the magazine would. So,
mischief managed. Googling him was supposed to be a 20-30 minute thing, but
instead I fell down a rabbit-hole and started reading, among other things,
about mustard and ketchup.
Assuming you have not read the aforementioned New Yorker article from 2004,
I will briefly explain what this article was about; why a new brand of mustard
managed to overtake the old brand of mustard, whereas a new brand of ketchup
could not overtake the old brand of ketchup. That’s it. And I am a mayo girl,
imagine the hours I would spend if they talked about mayo. I would probably still be googling. But
god knows that article was well-written. Character descriptions, some action
(involving ketchup tasting mostly), some lessons about advertising, some stats,
and a mention of evolutionary theory. Much like his podcast something that
would have been overlooked, was captivating. So the sad thing, and the reason I
mentioned my original intentions for this blog five years later, is that I
initially had the audacity to think I could do something similar in my blog.
Thankfully, I quickly realised I would be nowhere near as interesting. Gladwell
is a gifted writer and that is why these stories work. Surprisingly, that is
what most of his critics also go after him for.
This is what mostly took up my time. The realisation that I
took this intelligent-sounding man at his word a bit more than I should have. Because he is a journalist
from such a well-known and respected magazine, because he gets paid 40,000
dollars for a single talk and because he is an excellent story-teller. He is
convincing and he makes things sound simple and reasonable and that is just
what I want from a podcast. That and good sound editing; if it sounds like it
was recorded next to a construction site on a distant microphone, it is too
niche for me. And I am sure he does his research and that there is a lot of
work behind each of his podcasts, let alone each of his books. He sometimes
does sound one-sided and cherry-picking the evidence. But realising the extent
was heart-breaking. One example regarded his statistics about poets and their high
suicide rates. I didn’t feel the need to doubt it; it made sense, and it was
attached to a number and therefore sounded scientific enough. And knowing me, I
would be quick to cite this fact in my next conversation about poetry, which
luckily is never. But someone way more critical than me went back and checked
the source of this statistic and it was an outdated article, with an ambiguous
definition of poets, based on a tiny sample. I don’t even have to explain why
that is not a credible statistic. I just want to make it clear that this outdated article was the source of the source that Gladwell uses (and cites) so
what I am describing is not deception. Instead, it just points out
that someone who writes beautifully and/or does research to support his
already-existing argument might not necessarily be right or reliable.
Don’t get me wrong, his podcast is still excellent; it makes
you revisit and think about stuff that has happened or is happening in a
different way. And to be fair, that is exactly what Gladwell claims to do; open
up discussions. I am sure the books are worth the read and I will read them, I
mean the first three were international best-sellers. I have to, because just
as I might not have been critical enough and just took Gladwell at his word
regarding ketchup consistency, I wouldn’t be critical if I simply took the
critics at their word. Again, just to be clear, none of them had a problem with
the mustard/ketchup article and it is very, very cool if you would like to read
it (link below). I bring this particular article up because I find it immensely
impressive that this topic was made that intriguing and I thought it was a good
example of what good story-telling can do. I guess I went into this turmoil
because this realisation was particularly hurtful to me for two reasons. First
of all, I am supposedly doing research and need to be critical and it seems I
wasn’t and that is scary. And second of all, Gladwell basically discusses a
bunch of different topics, very intelligently but without extensive knowledge.
So it worries me that I wanted to do the same, but without the intelligence. I
think we are all much safer if I keep on writing love letters to the MCU.
I think the best way for me to enjoy his work from now on is
as a trigger, to maybe think about something I wouldn’t have and maybe even
look up a couple of things. And while this blog is far from comparable to any
of Gladwell’s work, the best way to enjoy it is to look up for any pop-culture
references, self-deprecating comments and attempts at a joke.
Gladwell, M. (2004). The Ketchup conundrum. The New Yorker,
September issue: <https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2004/09/06/the-ketchup-conundrum>
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