Category: Justice, Equity & Society

Written by Dan Guadagnolo, University of Wisconsin-Madison PhD candidate & Ryerson University alumnus. Photo credit The Canadian Press/Tara Walton. Originally published in The Conversation.

Buried within Ontario’s 2019 budget is a drastic change to how the province’s publicly funded universities and colleges will receive support.

Though Ontario’s post-secondary institutions are some of the most accessible in the world, the 2019 budget indicates that by 2024-2025, Ontario colleges and universities will receive 60 per cent of their public funding through yet-to-be determined performance metrics oriented to provincial workforce demands.

The budget makes Premier Doug Ford’s position clear: Ontario public education should serve workforce needs. It suggests public funding has no business supporting research or academic programs that do not have immediate commercial value to Ontario employers.

Though the Ford government’s budget marks a turn for Canadian universities, the workforce model of university education in conservative politics is nothing new. In the United States, proponents have aggressively rejected the value of a humanistic education. Their policies, however, have been wildly unpopular. The state of Wisconsin is perhaps the best example of this.

In 2015, Scott Walker, then the Republican governor of Wisconsin, put forth a budget proposal similar to the Ontario government’s. Walker’s 2015 budget proposed to change the University of Wisconsin’s influential, century-old public service mission statement known as the Wisconsin Idea.

Universities should help their communities

In the early 20th century, the Wisconsin Idea was the philosophy that university expertise should improve the quality of life for state residents. Rooted in the social gospel and the modernization of agriculture, it was perhaps best captured by the univerity’s chancellor Charles Van Hise in 1905: “I shall never be content until the beneficent influence of the University reaches every family of the state.”

The Wisconsin Idea brought the university into local communities. Researchers investigated major issues affecting ordinary people. This included the cost of living, public health and sanitation, the impact of powerful private utility companies, the power of massive corporate monopolies and the pernicious impact of growing wealth inequality. All concerns that weigh heavily on us today.

The Wisconsin Idea made the state a “laboratory for democracy” by bringing research into policy. University findings shaped major reforms, much of which became model legislation in Canada and the United States.

Wisconsin research informed the creation of social programs such as workers’ compensation, utility regulation, the development of modern public health departments, the direct election of senators and the creation of a state income tax as well.

This commitment to public service grew over the 20th century. In 1971, state legislators wrote the Wisconsin Idea into law.

The Wisconsin Idea now directed the university to “develop human resources, to discover and disseminate knowledge” and to extend this “knowledge and its application beyond the boundaries of its campuses and to serve and stimulate society by developing in students heightened intellectual, cultural and humane sensitivities, scientific, professional and technological expertise and a sense of purpose.”

‘Search for truth’

The goal would be to foster “methods of instruction, research, extended training and public service designed to educate people and improve the human condition. Basic to every purpose of the system is the search for truth.”

In 2015, Walker proposed changes to the Wisconsin Idea. He cut from the law the “search for truth” and that universities must work to “improve the human condition.” In their place, Walker added a new goal. Wisconsin’s public university system should work to “meet the state’s workforce needs.”

The Ford government, like Walker’s 2015 budget proposal, has proposed similar changes. The 2019 budget suggests higher education is merely a means to an end for satisfying workforce demands.

But the Ontario proposal fails to recognize the role public education plays in not just growing our economy, but in fostering our collective well-being across the province as well — whether that’s through public health programming, examining wealth inequality or training future elementary and high school teachers.

Ultimately, Walker failed to change the Wisconsin Idea. His proposal was resoundingly rejected. Wisconsinites recognized the value of the Wisconsin Idea, its historical importance to civic engagement and the many ways it had benefited the state.

Walker backed down

Following a public outcry, Walker walked back his proposal.

The Wisconsin Idea will continue to thrive. The final version of budget will fix drafting error – Mission statement will include WI Idea.

— Governor Walker (@GovWalker) February 4, 2015

He claimed the edits to the Wisconsin Idea were merely drafting errors. A year later, public information requests and a subsequent ruling by a Dane County judge proved otherwise. They forced the governor’s office to disclose documents confirming Walker himself had demanded the change, even after the objection of top administrators at the university.

Like citizens of Wisconsin in 2015, Ontario residents should be wary of the Ford government’s budget proposal.

Higher education trains students as critical thinkers and as citizens, not just as a future workforce designed to meet market needs.

Humanistic education, the arts and the sciences in the name of public service are vital to the collective improvement and health of our public life. Wisconsin voters knew it; Ontario voters should too.

Written by Peggy Nash & Patrick Neumann, Ryerson University. Photo credit Shutterstock. Originally published in The Conversation.

New technology can be distracting for drivers. Engineers need to think more about the human experience when designing workplace and transportation technology.

The legalization of cannabis in Canada has sparked discussion about workplace and driver impairment, but what about other forms of on-the-job impairment?

As we debate the impact of marijuana in the workplace, it’s a perfect time to examine a wide range of current policies and practices that promote worker fatigue and distraction, while also finding ways to design safer workplaces that minimize or eliminate human error.

Employers and those developing public policy are quite rightly concerned about the impacts of marijuana in the workplace, given the lack of expert agreement about what levels of marijuana in the body create impairment and the lack of an easy-to-administer test.

While experts search for a reliable test for marijuana impairment, let’s remember that alcohol and drugs are not the only sources of impairment.

Grief, illness and other impairments

Grief, mental and physical illnesses, stress, fatigue, prescription and non-prescription medication, migraines and even severe allergies can impair human performance. The recent elimination of personal sick days by the Ontario government will lead to more people on the roads and at work who should be home in bed.

While there is a wide difference of performance between an out-of-control drunk driver and one with the flu or severe fatigue, clearly neither is functioning optimally. Research has shown that fatigue causes performance declines on par with alcohol use.

As a society, how do we make sure all workers can be safe, given the variety of impairments and other societal and workplace hazards?“

Clearly, we need to prevent those who are impaired beyond a certain point from getting behind the wheel of a vehicle or performing safety-sensitive occupations. But there are less-severe degrees of impairment caused by other issues, so we should also focus on reducing the potential for human error through improved design.

“Human error” shouldn’t absolve designers

Calling the cause of an accident “human error” puts the blame on the individual and absolves the designers from responsibility for error-prone designs. Errors occur as much due to system design as to the limitations we all have as humans. So “human-system error” is a more accurate description of these events.

But it’s not just workplace policies that increase risks. As technology companies insert huge TV screens into cars, designers are moving in the opposite direction of increased safety. They are creating more complex interfaces and bombarding drivers with more information, likely increasing reaction times with more controls to choose from.

Until engineers learn to design resilient systems that are suited to humans and human limitations, people will continue to be injured and killed due to entirely avoidable human-system errors.

How do we prevent those errors from reoccurring? Modifications in transportation systems could reduce the scope for human error. A high-profile recent example is the terrible bus-truck crash in 2008 that killed members of the Humboldt Broncos hockey team — an accident that happened at the same site of previous collisions.

Changes come after tragedies, not before

Yes, human error was a key factor, but as a result there will be design changes such as improved visibility and rumble strips to try and minimize the potential for a reoccurrence. But why aren’t such improvements made before tragic human-system errors occur?

To prevent “human error” here are some practical solutions to support the design of safe, fault-tolerant systems:

• Engineers not only need to be trained in safety engineering, but they must have a better understanding of how people use equipment or systems. This training on human capability and limitations is largely absent in our engineering training programs.
• Management schools need to develop leaders who understand the value of resilient systems designed to support human capability, rather than test its limits.
• Employers need to be aware of the fatigue-related impairments their workplace practices (workload and work schedules) may impose on employees.
• Workers need to be aware of their own limitations and factors that might be impairing their performance — let’s be careful out there!

Ideally, everyone who drives a vehicle or shows up for work is at peak performance. Recognizing that the reality might sometimes be less than ideal, let’s use the current discussion about marijuana impairment to rethink overall workplace and transportation design.

Written by Anika Kozlowski, Ryerson University. Photo credit Shutterstock. Originally published in The Conversation.

Consumers should ask: “who made my clothes” so that they remember the modern slavery conditions imposed on many garment workers.

Fashion shouldn’t cost lives and it shouldn’t cost us our planet. Yet this is what is happening today. Globalization, fast fashion, economies of scale, social media and offshore production have created a perfect storm for cheap, easy and abundant fashion consumption. And there are few signs of it slowing down: clothing production has nearly doubled in the last 15 years.

With Earth Day and Fashion Revolution week upon us, fashion lovers need to reflect on how their consumption has an undeniably negative impact on both planet and people.

Fashion is rife with gender inequality, environmental degradation and human rights abuses — all of which are intrinsically interconnected. The Fashion Revolution campaign began because of the unresponsiveness of the fashion sector to the continuous tragedies that occur in the making of clothing, such as the death of 1,138 garment workers when the Rana Plaza factory collapsed in Dhaka, Bangladesh, on April 24, 2013.

Fashion Revolution aims to bring awareness to these injustices by highlighting the hands and faces of those behind the things we wear.

Fashion: Labour intensive modern slavery

Fashion is one of the most labour-intensive industries, directly employing at least 60 million people.

Handicraft artisan production is the second largest employer across the Global South. India counts some 34 million handicraft artisans. Women represent the overwhelming majority of these artisans and today’s garment workers. The Global Slavery index estimates 40 million people are living in modern slavery today, many of whom are in the Global South working in the supply chains of western clothing brands.

Modern slavery, though not defined in law, “covers a set of specific legal concepts including forced labour, debt bondage, forced marriage, slavery and slavery-like practices and human trafficking.” It refers to situations like forced to work overtime without being paid, children being forced to pick cotton by the Uzbekistan government when they should be in school, women being threatened with violence if they don’t complete an order in time and workers having their passports taken away until they work off what it cost for their transportation to bring them to the factory, their living quarters and food.

Fashion is one of five key industries implicated in modern slavery by advocacy organizations. G20 countries imported $US127.7 billion fashion garments identified as at-risk products of modern slavery. Canada has been identified as one of 12 G20 countries not taking action against modern slavery.

Colonialism and enviromental racism must be addressed if we are to tackle climate change, gender inequality, environmental degradation and human rights abuses. The poorest people on the planet and their cheap labour are exploited to make fashion clothing.

These workers are the ones who work overtime without pay and return home to contaminated toxic waterways from the factories. They suffer from diseases caused by living in devastatingly polluted areas.

When “we,” the western world, are finished with our fashions, we export back our unwanted clothing to these nations in the Global South. These “donations” destroy these communities by filling up their landfills and deteriorate their local economies as local artisans and businesses cannot compete with the cheap prices of our discarded donations.

Transparency and traceability is key

Transparency and traceability by companies is key. Transparency involves openness, communication and accountability. As citizens of this planet, we need to demand transparency and accountability.

We can no longer afford to live the same lifestyle we have become accustomed to. According to a report by the Ellen MacArthur Foundation, the fashion industry produces 53 million tonnes of fibre each year, more than 70 per cent of that ends up in landfills or bonfires and less than one per cent of it is used to make new clothes.

More than half of “fast” fashion produced is disposed of in less than one year. A truckload of clothing is wasted every second across the world.

The average number of times a garment is worn before it ceases to be used has decreased by 36 per cent in 15 years. Polyester is the most common fibre used today, as a result, half a million tonnes of plastic microfibres are released per year from washed clothes — 16 times more than plastic microbeads from cosmetics — contributing to ocean pollution.

Five things you can do now

We cannot keep chasing the cheapest labour and exploiting natural resources forever. Business as usual is no longer an option. In light of the positive change that is needed to tackle climate change and create an equitable future for everyone, here are five things you can do:

1. Ask questions: #whomademyclothes?

Ask questions, educate yourself and act consciously. Who made your clothes? How will this product end its life? How long am I going to use this product for? Do I really need it? What is it made from? Does the price reflect the effort and resources that went into this?

2. Wear what you have

Don’t throw away your clothes, shoes and accessories. There are ways to keep them out of landfills (reuse, resell, swap, repair, tailor, donation, hand me downs). Can it be repaired? Tailored? Learn to care for your clothes, the longer we keep wearing items, the more we reduce the emissions footprint of our closet.

3. Find alternative ways to be fashionable

Buy vintage, reduce, rent, resell, reuse, swap, repair, tailor or share. Think about the impact you want to make and whether you can sustain that? E.g. reducing plastic use, using less animal products or supporting local businesses.

4. Build a personal style

Knowing what works for you, your body and your lifestyle will have you feeling fabulous all the time (regardless of what the latest “trends” are).

5. Support ethical producers — but only if you need something

You can’t buy your way into sustainability. Overconsumption has led us to an unsustainable ecosystem. We need to reconsider what are “our needs” are vs. “our wants.” The abundance offered to consumers is far greater than any need. Consider Livia Firth’s #30wears campaign which encourages consumers to ask: Will I wear this item a minimum of 30 times? “If the answer is yes, then buy it. But you’d be surprised how many times you say no.”

Written by Cheryl Thompson, Ryerson University. Photo credit Selznick International Pictures. Originally published in The Conversation.

The historical depiction of ‘the mammy’ is a racist stereotype, with an enduring impact. Hattie McDaniel (right) won an Oscar for her role in ‘Gone with the Wind’ with Vivien Leigh (left).

How does a 100-year-old racist stereotype still impact Black women in North American institutions?

When I was a PhD student, a white woman professor was interested in my research, even though I was not her student. After I voiced concern about the similarities between her work and mine, the professor reprimanded me over email. Like “the mammy” who was often punished if she did not appear warm and nurturing, I was told to stay in my lane and to remember my PhD status.

When Black women are treated like this, we can sometimes feel disempowered to do anything about it. Instead, through the act of what one scholar has called “Mammy-ism,” we might feel the need to accommodate white people by acquiescing to their needs and assuming an inferior position.

In my opinion, Mammy-ism is often a response to the problem of niceness.

In a recent article for The Guardian, critical whiteness expert Robin diAngelo says that white people assume that niceness is the answer to racial inequality. She explains that niceness is conveyed through a light tone of voice, eye contact accompanied by over-smiling and pointing out some similarity or affinity between a Black person and white person.

But this creates a racial dynamic where people of colour are required to maintain white comfort to survive.

Therefore, niceness can be a form of manipulation. According to wellness experts, there is a difference between kindness and niceness. Where kindness emerges from someone who is compassionate and comfortable in their own skin, niceness is often about feelings of inadequacy, a tactic used to get something from the other person — be it approval, acceptance or emotional labour.

Being a nice white person helps to reinforce one of the myths about racism — that racism is only perpetrated by mean self-proclaimed white supremacists. A nice person cannot be racist because they don’t have bad intentions, or so the argument goes.

‘Controlling images’

In the 2011 film The Help, when Cicley Tyson as Constantine Jefferson, the mammy to Skeeter Phelan (Emma Stone), is abruptly fired by her “nice” white family despite decades of loyalty, and at the expense of her own family, many Black women likely said “hmmhmm” out loud because we have either seen, heard or experienced similar abrupt dismissals.

In 1991, Black feminist scholar Patricia Hill Collins coined the term “controlling images” to describe how the dominant ideology of slavery created socially constructed depictions of Black womanhood. In addition to “the welfare mother,” and “the Jezebel,” “the mammy” has had a tight grip on how Black women are viewed and treated in western institutions.

The names mammy and aunt were both used in southern antebellum fiction to describe both a person and a role within the plantation home. Real mammies did exist, but they did not look or act like the fictional mammies created on stage, in novels, advertising, film and television who were rotund, dark-skinned and always happy to please with a smile.

One of the first fictional mammies appears in the novel Uncle Tom’s Cabin (1852) as the character Aunt Chloe. Mammy lives on through the advertising trademark Aunt Jemima, which has graced store shelves since her debut in 1893. U.S. songs like “Mammy’s Little Coal Black Rose” (1916) were played in local communities across North America, and served as a reminder that the dominant culture considered Black women to be their caregivers. When Hattie McDaniel won an Oscar for her role as Mammy in Gone With the Wind (1939), it also naturalized the role of the mammy in Hollywood.

Mammy was so enduring that in 1923, the United Daughters of the Confederacy (UDC) almost succeeded in their campaign to get the U.S. government to approve a monument “in memory of the faithful slave mammies of the South.”

Many have written about institutional racism, racial microaggressions and the lack of equity/diversity, especially at Canadian universities, and therefore, many may understand that these depictions of the mammy are racist.

However, in the 21st century, racism is not necessarily so overt. It is often perpetrated by people who feel threatened by Black people who are self-assured.

When a Black woman resists playing a subordinate role, some white people in institutional settings find issue with it.

How to end this centuries-long racial dynamic

I believe self-awareness is the starting point of any transformation. Unless we take active steps to do something about it, we can remain in the dark about unconscious racial bias. Once we become self-aware, we might become one step closer to laying the mammy to rest once and for all.

Ryerson University Prof. Beverly-Jean Daniel argues that many white women in the Canadian academy lack awareness of their role in reproducing racial dynamics. Daniel explains that many white women have the power to reproduce patriarchy, marginalize and exclude Black women, but they are seldom called out as racist because, as a gender minority, they fit into marginalized categories created under multiculturalism and inclusion policies.

In a speech at the Stanford Graduate School of Business years ago, Oprah Winfrey said that all relationships are rooted in three questions: Did you hear me? Did you see me? And did what I say mean anything to you? Instead of putting on a veil of niceness, creating genuine connections by asking questions such as the ones Oprah Winfrey suggests would improve white-Black woman racial dynamics.

Written by Cheryl Thompson, Ryerson University. Photo credit Selznick International Pictures. Originally published in The Conversation.

The historical depiction of ‘the mammy’ is a racist stereotype, with an enduring impact. Hattie McDaniel (right) won an Oscar for her role in ‘Gone with the Wind’ with Vivien Leigh (left).

How does a 100-year-old racist stereotype still impact Black women in North American institutions?

When I was a PhD student, a white woman professor was interested in my research, even though I was not her student. After I voiced concern about the similarities between her work and mine, the professor reprimanded me over email. Like “the mammy” who was often punished if she did not appear warm and nurturing, I was told to stay in my lane and to remember my PhD status.

When Black women are treated like this, we can sometimes feel disempowered to do anything about it. Instead, through the act of what one scholar has called “Mammy-ism,” we might feel the need to accommodate white people by acquiescing to their needs and assuming an inferior position.

In my opinion, Mammy-ism is often a response to the problem of niceness.

In a recent article for The Guardian, critical whiteness expert Robin diAngelo says that white people assume that niceness is the answer to racial inequality. She explains that niceness is conveyed through a light tone of voice, eye contact accompanied by over-smiling and pointing out some similarity or affinity between a Black person and white person.

But this creates a racial dynamic where people of colour are required to maintain white comfort to survive.

Therefore, niceness can be a form of manipulation. According to wellness experts, there is a difference between kindness and niceness. Where kindness emerges from someone who is compassionate and comfortable in their own skin, niceness is often about feelings of inadequacy, a tactic used to get something from the other person — be it approval, acceptance or emotional labour.

Being a nice white person helps to reinforce one of the myths about racism — that racism is only perpetrated by mean self-proclaimed white supremacists. A nice person cannot be racist because they don’t have bad intentions, or so the argument goes.

‘Controlling images’

In the 2011 film The Help, when Cicley Tyson as Constantine Jefferson, the mammy to Skeeter Phelan (Emma Stone), is abruptly fired by her “nice” white family despite decades of loyalty, and at the expense of her own family, many Black women likely said “hmmhmm” out loud because we have either seen, heard or experienced similar abrupt dismissals.

In 1991, Black feminist scholar Patricia Hill Collins coined the term “controlling images” to describe how the dominant ideology of slavery created socially constructed depictions of Black womanhood. In addition to “the welfare mother,” and “the Jezebel,” “the mammy” has had a tight grip on how Black women are viewed and treated in western institutions.

The names mammy and aunt were both used in southern antebellum fiction to describe both a person and a role within the plantation home. Real mammies did exist, but they did not look or act like the fictional mammies created on stage, in novels, advertising, film and television who were rotund, dark-skinned and always happy to please with a smile.

One of the first fictional mammies appears in the novel Uncle Tom’s Cabin (1852) as the character Aunt Chloe. Mammy lives on through the advertising trademark Aunt Jemima, which has graced store shelves since her debut in 1893. U.S. songs like “Mammy’s Little Coal Black Rose” (1916) were played in local communities across North America, and served as a reminder that the dominant culture considered Black women to be their caregivers. When Hattie McDaniel won an Oscar for her role as Mammy in Gone With the Wind (1939), it also naturalized the role of the mammy in Hollywood.

Mammy was so enduring that in 1923, the United Daughters of the Confederacy (UDC) almost succeeded in their campaign to get the U.S. government to approve a monument “in memory of the faithful slave mammies of the South.”

Many have written about institutional racism, racial microaggressions and the lack of equity/diversity, especially at Canadian universities, and therefore, many may understand that these depictions of the mammy are racist.

However, in the 21st century, racism is not necessarily so overt. It is often perpetrated by people who feel threatened by Black people who are self-assured.

When a Black woman resists playing a subordinate role, some white people in institutional settings find issue with it.

How to end this centuries-long racial dynamic

I believe self-awareness is the starting point of any transformation. Unless we take active steps to do something about it, we can remain in the dark about unconscious racial bias. Once we become self-aware, we might become one step closer to laying the mammy to rest once and for all.

Ryerson University Prof. Beverly-Jean Daniel argues that many white women in the Canadian academy lack awareness of their role in reproducing racial dynamics. Daniel explains that many white women have the power to reproduce patriarchy, marginalize and exclude Black women, but they are seldom called out as racist because, as a gender minority, they fit into marginalized categories created under multiculturalism and inclusion policies.

In a speech at the Stanford Graduate School of Business years ago, Oprah Winfrey said that all relationships are rooted in three questions: Did you hear me? Did you see me? And did what I say mean anything to you? Instead of putting on a veil of niceness, creating genuine connections by asking questions such as the ones Oprah Winfrey suggests would improve white-Black woman racial dynamics.

Content from Research and Innovation. Photo credit Mark Blinch. Originally published in The Globe and Mail.

Ryerson professor Deborah Fels’ innovations have helped a diverse range of users – from kids who were missing school because they were often in hospital to creative artists who are blind or have low vision, deaf or hard of hearing.

From the Internet and cloud computing to robotics and artificial intelligence, technology over the last two decades has evolved and transformed into increasingly sophisticated innovations.

For Deborah Fels, director of the Inclusive Media and Design Centre at Ryerson University in Toronto, one thing has stayed constant through the years: her belief in using technology to break barriers for people whose disabilities often keep them from engaging more fully in their communities.

“I’m an engineer who believes in the power of innovative technology to serve people with disabilities,” says Dr. Fels, a professor at Ryerson’s Ted Rogers School of Information Technology Management. “That’s the point of inclusive design.”

Dr. Fels’ work has helped a diverse range of users – from kids who were missing school because they were often in hospital to creative artists who are blind or have low vision, deaf or hard of hearing. For example, her PEBBLES robot – which helped more than 30 Canadian kids go to school via videoconference from their hospital beds – was later commercialized and evolved into the “WebChair” and used by more than 400 students in Europe.

PEBBLES also evolved into the Emoti-chair – a “vibrotactile” technology that uses low-intensity vibrations to convey sounds to people who are hard of hearing. The Emoti-chair features eight channels of 16 speakers that run alongside the user’s spine.

“We were asked by the deaf community to provide better access to sound than what captioning provides, which basically tries to describe or name sounds,” explains Dr. Fels. “We found that low-intensity vibration added a lot to the missing soundtrack.”

The Emoti-chair led to the development of WebMoti, which connects children with autism spectrum disorder to their classroom.

“People with autism have overloaded senses, which is why a lot of them have so much trouble in classrooms and noisy environments,” says Dr. Fels. “What WebMoti does is allow students to study outside the classroom while maintaining a remote presence in class. Students can control what stimulation they’re getting by turning off video but maintaining audio or by adding low-intensity vibration.”

We found that low-intensity vibration added a lot to the missing soundtrack.
– Dr. Deborah Fels Director of the Inclusive Media and Design Centre at Ryerson University

This innovation has opened the door to a new, vibrotactile art form, which now has its own creation space, the VibraFusion Lab in London, Ont. Together with hard-of-hearing new media artist David Bobier, Dr. Fels co-founded the VibraFusion Lab four years ago as a development lab, educational centre and presentation space for vibrotactile expression.

Close to 40 Canadian and international artists have performed and led workshops at the lab, whose model has been replicated in Toronto, the Dominican Republic and London, U.K.

With the pervasiveness of the Internet as a mode for sharing information, Dr. Fels identified a need to create sign language websites without using written text. The resulting innovation is SignLinkStudio, created specifically for designers of websites for the deaf community.

“Deaf people have a visual culture – they sign to communicate, while written language is all about sounds and not much to do with visuals,” she says.

Instead of content and links in text, SignLinkStudio uses videos to communicate information. Like most of Dr. Fels’ work, this innovation led to another: a kiosk where people can make short videos of their experiences in activities such as shopping or dining – much like Yelp or Google reviews but with video.

“So now we have something that’s more accessible to a deaf audience,” says Dr. Fels, noting that this innovation subsequently led to a technology that allows patients to share their stories with health-care providers through short videos.

More than two decades after she took the reins at the Inclusive Media and Design Centre, Dr. Fels continues to find new ways to use technology to ensure everyone is engaged in this age of information. She recently started a program called Lab Elders, where retired scientists, engineers and other technology experts work with Ryerson students and give them guidance on their projects.

“It’s a great way for retired older adults to get involved and use their expertise to contribute to the next wave of innovation,” she says.

Written by Emily Baron-Cadloff. Photo credit Alia Youssef. Originally published in Maclean’s.

The Yellowhead Institute at Ryerson applies an Indigenous perspective to public policy

It’s been a busy few months for the Yellowhead Institute. Ryerson University’s new think tank is doing what a think tank does: analyzing government policies, recruiting academics and conducting research on community projects. But Yellowhead is doing something that’s never been done before at this level. The institution focuses on Indigenous people and filters all that work through an Indigenous perspective.

The centre was formally opened in June, but it has been suggested by Indigenous leaders and thinkers for years. The name comes from William Yellowhead, the first chief of the Rama First Nation in Ontario. “We were sort of modelling it on the think tanks that currently exist in Canada and North America, and we saw the organizations like the Laurier Institute,” says Hayden King, the director of the institute. “What would it look like to have an Indigenous institute named after someone we could aspire to?”

King has taught Indigenous politics and policy for more than a decade at multiple universities and is an adviser to the dean of arts on Indigenous education at Ryerson. He is also Indigenous, as are all the research fellows and the majority of the board members. Together, they crafted five key objectives: support First Nations in their self-determination, hold all levels of government accountable, invest in public education, support Indigenous students, and build solidarity with non-Indigenous students and researchers. “We want to try to change the way research is done in communities, and provide a model for how to do that for other individuals and other organizations,” King says.

For King, looking at public policy from an Indigenous perspective is novel, because not many organizations or First Nations have the resources to do a deep dive into those issues. “For many generations, First Nations have dealt with this chronic underfunding at the community level,” King says. “Leadership have often been forced to make difficult decisions about where they allocate funding. Is it to clean water, or is it to transportation or infrastructure?”

One of the first issues King and his staff are looking at is the Recognition and Implementation of Indigenous Rights Framework, an effort by the federal government to take a sweeping look at changing the relationship between Indigenous people and government systems; it could encompass any number of policies before its implementation in October 2019. But it’s complicated and removed from the daily life of many people. That’s where Yellowhead comes in. “There is a really glaring gap in the landscape for any organization like this to offer critical perspectives to those communities on government policy and legislation, and then support for cultivating and building their own,” King says.

While there are First Nation research chairs and university departments around the country, Yellowhead is the first institute of its scope and size in Canada. Fifteen research fellows from across Canada have signed on to work with the group, publishing near-weekly briefs dissecting various subjects.

It’s been an ambitious first year, but one that has been a long time in the making. King and his staff have spent years working out how to launch Yellowhead, and how they want to support First Nation communities. For them, it’s about supporting students and building those relationships, but also “changing the discourse in the country, which ultimately supports communities, and making the research relationship more just. It is ambitious, but we’re committed.”

Written by Shenaz Kermalli, Ryerson University. Photo credit AP Photo/Jacquelyn Martin. Originally published in The Conversation.

People, including the activist group Code Pink, hold signs at the Embassy of Saudi Arabia during a protest about the disappearance of Saudi journalist Jamal Khashoggi, Oct. 10, 2018, in Washington, D.C.

I was first in touch with Jamal Khashoggi — the Saudi journalist who disappeared on Oct. 2 — while setting up an interview with Osama bin Laden’s former close friend and brother-in-law, Mohammad Jamal Khalifa, for the CBC back in 2003.

It was two years after Sept. 11, 2001, when 2,977 victims were killed by four co-ordinated attacks against the United States by the al-Qaida terrorist group, and the world was still searching for reasons behind the tide of anti-Americanism across the Arab world.

Khalifa was a murky character at the time (he has since died in a mysterious killing in Madagascar in 2007). After Sept. 11, 2001, he always maintained publicly that he had fallen out with bin Laden’s decision to form al-Qaida in 1988. He was accused of being a major financier for the al-Qaida-aligned Abu Sayyaf terrorist group and reportedly also played a controversial role in the arrest of the group that attempted to blow up the World Trade Centre in 1993.

Khashoggi, then the deputy editor-in-chief of Arab News, a Gulf English language daily, was one of dozens of Saudi-based journalists and political observers I reached out to in an effort to track down Khalifa. For several months, all my calls and emails went unanswered. And then Khashoggi responded.

Yes, I know Khalifa, he told me via email. And yes, he could help facilitate an in-person interview with him.

From a news perspective, it was a great scoop: a rare opportunity to speak to someone who had once been close to bin Laden. Khashoggi not only followed through with the interview, but he also sought out several other English-speaking political analysts to take part in another separate television segment — a panel discussing Saudi affairs.

A wide source-list: Saudi royals and terrorists

I know I am not alone among foreign journalists who have had similarly positive experiences working with Khashoggi. Any reporter or policy researcher who has covered the Gulf countries can attest to how difficult it is to find helpful, credible and thoughtful voices who are willing to share their insight on life inside the elusive kingdom.

In this respect, Khashoggi was a breath of fresh air. He always seemed to be fine with appearing on camera and being identified in news reports.

But Khashoggi was also noticeably cautious. This caution likely prompted any reporter who used him as a source to assess him with a healthy degree of scrutiny. How many journalists after all — no matter how high they are — can honestly say they have sources to both international terrorists and elusive members of the Saudi royal family?

It’s no secret Khashoggi had parallel careers as both a reporter and a government adviser. From 2003 to 2006 he was the right-hand man of the powerful Saudi prince, Faisal bin Turki, a former spy chief and ambassador to the U.S. and the United Kingdom. Clearly, he was no ordinary journalist.

Polite requests for new freedoms

But he was also no ordinary political adviser. Under his editorial direction at Arab News, for instance, he bravely published editorials that called for more personal freedoms and greater employment for Saudi youth, and allowed coverage of public demands by migrant workers and Shia minority communities in Bahrain. These are virtual no-go areas in Gulf news outlets.

It would be misleading, however, to portray him in the way some leading journalists have since his disappearance last week in Turkey. Khashoggi wasn’t “a fierce critic” of the Saudi regime.

Before he decided to start using The Washington Post last year as a platform to effect change (after being constantly suspended from writing in various Saudi media), his criticism of the leadership could probably best be described as subtle with polite reservations of the kingdom’s policies.

“Khashoggi was a smooth, articulate and polite defender of the realm,” says Madawi al-Rasheed, a visiting professor at the London School of Economics in a column for U.K. publication Middle East Eye. “His reservations on Saudi policies have always been subtle and tolerated.”

They were especially tolerated — and no doubt appreciated by the ruling elite — when he publicly supported the Saudi position on the disastrous war in Yemen (although his recent editorials in the Washington Post take on a decidedly different tone), the execution of leading Shia cleric Sheikh Nimr al-Nimr in 2016 and the 2011 Saudi-led military crackdown on Arab Spring-inspired activists in Bahrain.

Khashoggi’s disappearance

In the days after Khashoggi’s disappearance, it’s worth noticing that many of the experts, journalists and political officials he regularly debated with on air also expressed sorrow — and respect for what he stood for. “Jamal Khashoggi and I disagreed on many issues, but unlike many of his Saudi and UAE colleagues he was always civil and polite to me and other Iranians,” tweeted Mohammad Marandi, a professor of English literature and orientalism at the University of Tehran.

Another journalist in Bahrain who has been imprisoned numerous times for covering the violent Saudi crackdown on unarmed activists, vehemently disagreed with Khashoggi’s perception of Iranian encroachment in the region, but told me he still credits Khashoggi for trying to bring reform. “You don’t survive in Saudi if you don’t have friends. I can tell you from experience he was focused on getting the real story with all views out.”

In the end, it was Khashoggi’s own “friends” that silenced him. And if the latest accounts of his death by Turkish media and authorities are true — that there was an assault and a struggle inside the Saudi consulate in Istanbul where he was last seen walking into — then he follows a long line of other critics who have paid tragically to speak truth to power.

It’s a vital reminder not only of Riyadh’s crazed obsession with stifling dissent, but of the need to genuinely respect and value intellectuals with diverse perspectives.

Written by David Chandross. Photo credit Shutterstock. Originally published in The Conversation.

This has been a terrible year for science and evidence-based decision making, which are the newest casualties of the growing wave of populism in North America where “postmodern thought … is being used to undermine scientific truths.”

In the United States, President Donald Trump has repeatedly made false claims such as those that led to the repeal of environmental protections.

In Ontario, Premier Doug Ford, whose election win symbolized an overthrow of a left-leaning government, has already cancelled the “cap and trade” program for emissions control, moving Canada further away from Kyoto emissions targets accepted by the federal government.

Adding to this is bestselling author and University of Toronto professor Jordan Peterson who accuses the liberal left in universities as well as liberal politicians of postmodern thinking. This unrelenting attack on postmodern thinking is the core argument that propelled Peterson to fame.

Postmodernism emerged with views that Western morality and universal truths — as outlined in the modern period of Enlightenment — should be deconstructed. This created a form of skepticism in which Western morality and later science came into question.

One of the erroneous impacts of this new skepticism is the erosion of public confidence in the conclusions of scientific studies.

The science wars

Peterson’s well established critique of postmodernism misses how this arena of postmodernism has become dangerous through the deconstruction of science and outright denial of scientific facts.

Marcel Kuntz argues that this version of postmodernism has led us toward an increasing dissolution of the notion of objective reality. Social critic Noam Chomsky argues that a “turn away from postmodernism” is necessary. He says although “there are institutional factors determining how science proceeds that reflect power structures,” that does not mean we should “abuse scientific concepts”.

What we see with Peterson, Trump and Ford is a new set of values in which science is just another factor in determining reality. Science has lost its primacy.

Scientific relativism

The political right has embraced scientific relativism. Scientific relativism is based on the idea that scientific observation and analysis are framed within unique cultural biases.

Former Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper adopted a cautionary stance against science and muzzled his own federal researchers on climate change. But even this was not the catastrophic rejection of science that has currently evolved.

Peterson refers to all forms of relativism as a form of cancer. But Peterson fails to criticize Trump’s litany of relativistic transgressions when it comes to science.

Even Peterson’s mentor, Bernard Schiff, has now said that Peterson might be more dangerous than those he attacks.

It is paradoxical that both Trump and Ford are embracing postmodernism much more than the left, which they accuse of the same sin. But the left demand factual evidence for decisions. Cap and trade was selected because the only other alternative is a regulation that denies corporations financial incentives to participate.

Peterson should challenge science relativism

One leaves a Peterson lecture with the sense that there is no coherency between ideas; the ground itself has been taken away. He mercilessly opposes unscientific thinking in his discussion of sexual and gender identity. But he then jumps to unscientific ideas like Carl Jung’s transpersonal psychology and his mystical collective unconscious in the next breath.

Is he a Jungian mystic or the embryology guy who asserts that science confirms there are only two sexes? Peterson has many followers and they participate in this sustained polemic attack on the left, claiming that moral relativism has left the world in disarray.

Peterson places all blame squarely in the hands of those who fight for social justice and who embrace progressive ideology. Resistance to change is associated with the political right and he says this is where postmodernism truly dwells.

By focusing on the moral relativism of postmodern thinking and ignoring scientific relativism, Peterson further erodes our ability to think critically. Peterson says that his aim is to build critical thinking in his readers, but his method of analysis is combative and takes no note of the virtues of depolarizing facts.

Which Ford will we get today, the one who accepts climate change or the one who denies that regulating emissions is an antidote worthy of analysis? And which Trump will we get today, the one who sees Canada as a partner, or the one who demonizes our trade pacts?

Depolarizing facts are not what make Ford, Trump or Peterson fans tick. They argue for political effect, not to test their own hypothesis of the world.

One leaves both Peterson’s lectures or a Trump rally with a frightening sense of unreality, there is no place that is safe. Your own rationality is called into question. These voices remove safety and then quickly replace it with a new set of basic truths that now stabilize a weakened framework of the world.

Science rejection

There is new evidence that science can neutralize polarizations. This depolarization through independent science may be the antidote for a political sphere that seems about to shatter any form of debate. Yuval Noah Harari, the Israeli historian says that although false narratives are nothing new, citing the dogmatic acceptance of religion as an example, he cautions us to use science as a final arbiter.

Stripped of basic rational coordinates we have no shelter, no starting point for making sense of the world. Similarly, leaving a Ford press conference or a Trump rally (they are interchangeable), one has the same disquieting sense that there is nothing left, all maps have been burned. There is only Ford’s truth, Trump’s declaration or Peterson’s harsh admonitions. They deny us any factual compass.

Instead we have a series of memes and parables, not the pressure gauges and coordinates by which to navigate the challenges that life provides. What has happened to belief in inquiry, and to refutation of that which has no evidence? It has, like a photograph long exposed to light, lost its hues.

Rationality is on the executioner’s block, and the results are predictable if Maoist China is any example. This is the ferment of totalitarianism and by vilifying the left, and ignoring the emotional ramblings of the right, there is little one can do in this intellectual vacuum that remains, but to suffocate. And like a kill on the savannas, suffocation is the pretext to being consumed by a predator.

Written by Deborah de Lange, Ryerson University. Photo credit THE CANADIAN PRESS/Frank Gunn. Originally published in The Conversation.

A woman gets back into her flooded car on the Toronto Indy course on Lakeshore Boulevard in Toronto on July 8, 2013. Housing developers are building housing on known flood plains in cities around the world.

Many cities around the world face a lack of affordable housing in and around expensive central business districts. Employers want cheaper labourers, who need more affordable housing in accordance with their lower salaries, to live nearby. So developers are invited to build on flood plains, without consequences. And often there is no public involvement in the decision.

Flood plains are easy to build on because they are flat and, in cities, they tend to be close to amenities. Yet all parties involved in housing know that cities are facing more rainfall and flooding due to climate change. Cities are now starting to prepare for catastrophic floods. and research has estimated flooding losses in the United States to be increasing dramatically.

Irresponsible and autocratic choices made by elites, at Waterfront Toronto for example, leave unsuspecting, lower-paid professionals in dangerous circumstances with rising insurance costs and potentially bad investments. That’s because, in the future, flood insurance may become prohibitively expensive or insurers may decide not to cover such high-risk properties, making them difficult to sell.

Flood risks worldwide

Difficult housing choices are reflective of a broader loss of worker power and associated income inequality. Research shows that densely populated areas are more vulnerable to disasters — the same disaster affects more people in dense environments. And where there is income inequality, there are more victims of natural catastrophes.

Cities dominated by appointed, un-elected officials, such as the board members of Waterfront Toronto, are helping to generate this inequality.

In the U.K., where there’s an ongoing housing crisis, government has approved building on flood plains as long as the new homeowners are made aware of the risks in advance. At least the British are having an honest conversation about it. In Toronto, we are not.

New Orleans has long relegated its poorer populations to lower elevations by the Mississippi River, where floods and subsequent disease have devastated the city. The terrible treatment of Hurricane Katrina’s victims in New Orleans is a continuation of an enduring history of racism.

Research also describes how in the flood plains of Bangladesh, income inequality is related to a higher risk of flooding and lower preparedness to deal with floods.

In South China, increasing rainfall has left millions of the poor living in such dangerous low-lying areas that China’s president has called in the army.

Public space can be climate-adaptive

Today, most North American coastal cities are in danger of climate-related sea level elevations and storm surges. Hurricane Sandy caught New York’s elite off guard because they became victims too. It didn’t matter whether you were in the Upper East Side or in Harlem.

In wealthy south Florida, saltwater rises not only directly from the sea, but also up through porous limestone, so Miami cannot use the same climate adaptation approaches as in some other cities, like adding green space. Miami is working to add pumps and other infrastructure instead.

Toronto could turn its remaining waterfront space into parkland, instead of housing developments, as a protective barrier.

New York City is going to build a wall around the lower part of Manhattan, and add a park. The Dutch are using public space to absorb floodwater. New Orleans is building parks to double as reservoirs for floodwaters, on the advice of the Dutch.

Toronto’s recent floods a wakeup call

Toronto has had a few waterfront floods over the years, including this year and last, damaging the Toronto Islands in 2017. The city faced several storms in 2018 with violent winds and flooding downtown. Some wealthy Torontonians leave the city for private lakefront properties in cottage country, but others live within limited space affected by the aftermath of catastrophes.
The Toronto Islands recovery, for example, is still ongoing and has not yet been fully paid for.

Meanwhile, new Toronto lakefront condominium developments are proceeding in the Quayside and Portlands neighbourhoods, near the Islands, on flood plains historically contaminated by heavy metals, oil and coal. “Workforce housing” is a required part of the plan.

Will Flessig, former Waterfront Toronto CEO, says that middle-income professionals are expected to settle in the waterfront condominiums so that they can be closer to where they work.

But no one in Toronto is talking about the flood plains, since elected officials apparently consider the issue resolved. Based on a plan developed in 2007, the federal and provincial governments are investing $1.185 billion to reconstruct the mouth of the Don River so that the water safely flows into Lake Ontario.

However, the waterfront area still remains a flood plain, and is still affected by storm surges associated with climate change.

Building on flood plains has serious consequences, including future uninsurable buildings as insurance companies anticipate they won’t be able to afford the payouts. A single major flood causes a great deal of damage and requires insurance companies to pay all at once. With a higher frequency of catastrophic floods and the corresponding required payouts, the pool of insurance premiums collected to cover the losses dries up, and insurance companies face bankruptcy.

Before that happens and buildings are left derelict, people and property are endangered. We recently saw life-threatening flooding of buildings in Toronto, and there are limited rescue personnel to address all of the issues at the same time when mass floods happen.

Simultaneously, damage to personal property can be overwhelming — for example, to cars and contents within condominium lockers in underground parking garages. In Toronto, we have also seen streetcars submerged in water recently with people trapped inside.

Fixing the damage therefore adds costs to public transit. Water quality and disease concerns are also heightened as storm sewage systems cannot handle increasing rainfall volumes. Over the longer term, repeated flooding also weakens building foundations.

Hard to manage water levels

On a broader scale in the Great Lakes region, the ability to adapt to changing conditions is reduced. That’s because the ability of water officials to manage water levels is much more difficult when condominiums and other housing is built on flood plains.

For example, water flows are somewhat controlled in the Lake Ontario and St. Lawrence River watersheds through an international agreement called Plan 2014. If buildings are in the path of water flow, this complicates and limits the range of adjustment options.

We know now what we’re confronting. Let’s learn from past mistakes. In the best interests of homeowners, the public and climate adaptation, what’s left of Toronto’s waterfront should be public parks, not condominiums billed as “workforce housing.”

Written by Joe Recupero. Photo credit Alison Webb (Author provided). Originally published in The Conversation.

The author, Joe Recupero, as he competed in the Tough Mudder race in 2014.

We have been taught from the time we are children that outbursts of anger are unproductive and socially unacceptable. But if channelled properly, there is an upside to anger — and is most often evident in sport.

The field of play is where healthy aggression and combat has always been an acceptable outlet. We compete as athletes, weekend warriors and casual recreational players at sport and events like Tough Mudder to fulfil needs, to seek out camaraderie, attain a sense of team and community, to test our bodies and our limits and to blow off steam from our everyday lives and workplaces.

Tough Mudder is an extreme endurance event which comprises a 10- to 12-mile obstacle course run and is an example of this connection between sports, masculinity and modern capitalism.

When competing in any athletic or recreational sport there is a battle of wills and bodies to achieve success and be the ultimate warrior. We learn this from an early age in the schoolyard, playgrounds and fields of play and we then take this into adulthood and our careers.

It teaches us how to relish our victories, but also how to bounce back from setbacks and disappointments, which we can also translate into our professions, ambitions and corporate boardrooms.

I have worked in sport media and production for nearly 30 years. For many years I worked at CBC TV Network Sports as a producer and had the privilege of working on 13 Olympic Games, many other multi-day sporting events and World Cups and championships in almost every sport.

During the last 10 years, I have taught sports journalism and production, and I’m the Program Director of Sport Media in the RTA School of Media at Ryerson University. My creative and research interests focus around resiliency and diversity in sport and media.

I have often used sport as a source of resiliency when going through anything traumatic in my own life. Running marathons helped me cope with the stresses and anxieties of school, work and even the early deaths of my parents. Sport and endurance races also have a subliminal effect of outrunning old age, illness and death. If you can only keep active and regularly exercise and keep running then the bad stuff can’t find you.

A few years ago, when I joined the half century club by turning 50, I was in a career transition. After one job interview, someone told me I was “not the right fit.” I interpreted this as a subliminal form of ageism because on paper I fit all the criteria. This created a low-grade depression. I did what I had done many times before — I dug in deep and channelled my anger into pursuing an athletic challenge.

Ageism and sport

A recent article and study in Zoomer magazine looks at the toxic effects of ageism in the workplace and society and addresses how not only is it bad for the health for those over 50, but also for the younger millennial set who face a disconnect about getting older.

Enter a friend who was in rehab for a knee injury with the suggestion that I join him and three of his buddies for a Tough Mudder event. It was only three months away and the biggest question was would I be ready in time?

The last couple years had put me in a fitness deficit and I was definitely not in shape to do a half marathon (which had become more my speed in the last decade), let alone a Tough Mudder, which I knew very little about. I did a bit of homework and found obstacles with fear-inducing names like “Ring of Fire,” “Electric Shock Therapy” and “Arctic Enema.”

What I neglected to pay attention to was how much upper body strength training was advised. I have always been more concerned with cardio workouts — running, playing sports and biking. But the Tough Mudder is non-stop monkey bars and jungle gyms for miles. I now have huge respect for all those people who paid attention to strength training and its benefits especially for those of us later in life.

Sport as resiliency

Come race day, we found ourselves in a sea of millennials, many sporting the different coloured Tough Mudder headbands that indicated how many you had previously completed — the badge of honour. I knew the goal was to walk out at the end of the day with one of those headbands.

We were clearly the oldest team competing, but did not let that sap our energy and enthusiasm. In fact, we let that fuel us. We knew we were old enough to be parents of most participants, but as we went through each obstacle and “earned our way in” we would catch the looks of surprised staff and teams who must have thought we somehow ended up on course by mistake.

But with age sometimes comes some wisdom. Through some climbing and water obstacles we were also able to point out smarter, faster ways of working. A couple of our teammates were the first to easily mount “Everest” — a half pipe snowboarding obstacle which required you to run up the curved wall, grab the top and throw yourself over and straddle. They were able to grab onto and help over many younger competitors that struggled getting over the lip of the half pipe.

Yes, we were all older and our bodies definitely not as lean, muscular or imposing, but we were there slogging through Tough Mudder just like the rest of them.

In a sporting arena where ageism can be so prevalent, the mere sight of older folks is a bit disconcerting to some. Sport can be a tremendous source of support and resiliency and somehow becomes the great equalizer out on the playing field. It can also challenge stereotypes and dismantle a lot of myths around ageing.

Crawling through one of the last and most challenging obstacles, “Mud Mile,” was definitely the moment I thought “what am I doing here?” But we persevered and finished the course.

Getting through Tough Mudder turned out to be one of the proudest physical achievements in my life. At the end of the day, as we tried to shower off the never-ending mud in the huge communal outdoor showering area, I let the water wash over me and I felt euphoric.

Is 50 the half way point, mid-life? This is what I have heard from many of my friends as they attempt to make me feel better about getting older. Previously, I would disagree: “How many 100-year-olds do you know?”

After conquering Tough Mudder I plan to be one of those 100 centenarian still fighting the good fight and not giving in to ageism.