The Lake Effect

Ever since I discovered Paris 1919 –and with it my love of non-fiction—I have eagerly anticipated reading the winner of the Governor General’s Literary Awards each year. This year’s winner, Lakeland: Journeys into the Soul of Canada by Allan Casey was no exception. Although it was different from the type of non-fiction I normally read (being a bit of a history/politics/society type) it was no less enjoyable. My first surprise came when I tried to order a copy online through Chapters. They were completely out of stock, and didn’t expect to get any new orders in for weeks; Sentimentalists all over again it seemed, but without the excuse of the book being hand printed and bound. As it turns out, my initial disappointment merely paved the way for my surprised excitement when the book came in just over a week, perfectly on time for me to delve in after finishing Clio in the Clinic. Sometimes I guess the universe does get things right.

The next surprise came from the content of the book itself. I’ll admit that it wasn’t even on my radar before the GGs were announced. I like lakes as much as the next Canuck, but I never really thought about reading about them; the whole point of lakes was always to swim in, camp next to, and go “yuck” at the thought of even putting a toe into Lake Ontario. It didn’t help that the book description was vague. So I was again pleasantly surprised to crack open the book and find the memoir/environmental slant/travelogue style a joy to read. Following the author through his journeys into Canada’s wilderness, via its iconic lakes, seemed like the perfect form of armchair travel in the dead of winter. I learned about swimming races in small town Quebec, the scourge of development on Lakes Emma and Okanagan, the abysmal level of government funding for non-Great Lake freshwater research, and the role of European immigrants in Nova Scotian lake towns. My only complaint was that a lack of a map resulted in my reliance upon Google Maps to locate the specific location of the less-known lakes portrayed in each chapter. I unavoidably felt more Canadian by the time I closed the cover for the last time.

So then, why has Lakeland remained off the radar of most readers? A quick check reveals that it never made it to a bestsellers list, and only has one and two online reviews on the Indigo and Amazon.ca websites, respectively. All this in contrast to the hype and selling-frenzy that emerges following a Giller award, or even short-listing. Perhaps this says something about Canadian reading habits, poor marketing by the GGs, or a failure on the part of Greystone Books to capitalize on GG fame. Not to mention that the cover could easily sell the book on its own if it was given some prime book store real estate. Either way, for those who are missing out on this slice of Canadian literary heaven, the paperback comes out February 11^th.

Three Cups for Peace

Everyone has heard the claim that religion is the root of all war. While I don't wholly agree, I do think there is no doubting that religion is very often one of the major factors in war. The problem with that conclusion is that it is an oversimplification of very complex problems. The extremist religious convictions that call for violent solutions to ideological problems do not just emerge fully formed from sacred scriptures. Regardless of what an ancient text dictates, few people will blindly risk their lives without the presence of other conditions such as poverty and indoctrination. In the case of northern Pakistan, poverty prevents villages from building schools, which allows the Saudi-backed madrassas to easily swoop in and educate young men in a culture of extremism and jihad.

In the West we are currently engaged in two wars with the aim of stopping militant Islam and bringing democracy to the Muslim world. Yet, progress, if any, has been slow and debatable, and much evidence lends credence to the argument that combat in Afghanistan and Iraq has only strengthened terrorist organizations. So, what then is the solution? We have used our might, and the results have not been strong enough to keep public opinion in favour of armed combat. Perhaps, instead of trying to force our ideology on an impoverished uneducated population, with centuries of history behind them to warrant a lack of trust, we should look instead at fixing the root causes of anti-Western hostilities.

Having recently read the amazing book Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin, I couldn't believe in this approach more. Greg's work as the founder and director of the Central Asian Institute over the past decade and a half has resulted in the creation of 78 schools throughout the remote regions of northern Pakistan and Afghanistan. As a result, children have access to education, which can allow them not only to improve their lives financially, but to learn the basic critical thinking skills necessary to reject extremism. Most importantly, from a world-relations perspective, Greg's work has given a face of peace and acceptance a region that tends to only encounter westerners from the other end of a pointed gun. In my humble opinion, this has done far more to bring peace and prosperity to the region than war ever could.

The title of the book is based on a Balti proverb: "The first time you share tea with a Balti, you are a stranger. The second time you take tea, you are an honored guest. The third time you share a cup of tea, you become family." I would like to rework that proverb to express the role learning can have on promoting peace: "The first time you read, you are a beginner. The second time you read, you are educated. The third time you read, you are enlightened."

Very Gradual Change We Can Hope For

So I finished The God Delusion yesterday by Richard Dawkins. From watching previous documentaries he has been in, such as The Root of All Evil and The Four Horsemen, and having visited The Richard Dawkins Foundation I was familiar with his unapologetic atheism before I cracked the spine* of his book. And to be perfectly honest, before reading his book I found the extremity of his position to be somewhat of a turnoff; the intense vitriol of the language he spews at religious followers almost discredits the "reasonable" side of atheism. The result of which was that I was somewhat apprehensive about how the book would resonate with me and thus wasn't leaning towards one response over the other.

Having finished The God Delusion I can now confidently say that Dawkins certainly has the evidence to back up his extreme beliefs—to an extent. His arguments for evolution and natural selection are confident and backed up by numerous scientific studies and observations. After tackling the 400-plus pages, no one with a rational, logical mind would disagree with the validity of evolution as an explanation for our 21st century existence.

My problem with Dawkins' rhetoric is his failure to definitively disprove the existence of God. Although he does an excellent job of demonstrating the fragility of the Bible as a source of evidence, this in and of itself is not enough to prove that God doesn't exist. However unlikely it is, there is always the possibility that God is out there and just did a piss-poor job of getting his written word out there. Dawkins seems to rely on the excellence—and excellent it is—of his argument for evolution as a mechanism to disprove religion. But, the existence of a better explanation doesn't completely nullify the former belief. Dawkins himself admits that he can't disprove the existence of God. And while I agree with him that the onus of proof should be on religion, and not the other way around, I suppose that I was expecting a bit more of a convincing argument from such a noted intellectual.

Where the real strength of the book is, in my humble opinion, is Dawkins' ability to illustrate the harm caused by even moderate religious sympathy. Having already forsaken my own belief in a higher power,  this was also the aspect of the book that contributed the most to my own personal understanding of the divide. I have always disagreed with the uneducated belief of my religious peers, but felt that eventually they would allow themselves to shed the dogmatic instruction of their youth and emerge as Plato's philosopher into the light of reason. It was only after Dawkins so succinctly argued against the mere labeling of a child by religious affiliation did I not realize how truly difficult it is to undo the intensive indoctrination we are exposed to as youth. How is one who grows up being labeled a Catholic child ever to tackle the ensuing identity crisis association with discarding one's religious beliefs?

The most disheartening part of the whole situation, for me, is when I apply Dawkins' arguments to our modern context. In light of the current religious extremism not only in the Middle East, but in Middle America, the cause for rational views towards spirituality is more pressing than ever. Two years ago, an impetus for change swept across our southern neighbor demanding a retraction of the status quo. Quickly, posters began to symbolize the beliefs of those who would no longer accept the wrongs that had been committed in our name. And with that in mind, I can find no more fitting way to end this piece than by sharing my favorite meme of that poster (to use another of Dawkins' famous terms) to draw attention to the cause of intellectual freedom and the quest for a secular society.

*Disclosure: I don't crack spines. In fact I loath the practice and have even trained my husband not to do so. I just like the expression.

UTP Makes the Scene

On September 16th about 60 people gathered at Yorkville library to hear University of Toronto Press author Stuart Henderson talk about the subject of his upcoming book Making the Scene: Yorkville and Hip Toronto in the Sixties. The talk was the first installment in the six part History Matters Series hosted by the Toronto Public Library and organized by Lisa Rumiel of McMaster University.  The goal of the series is to provide a forum for exchange between active Toronto historians and the broader Toronto community. Henderson’s reading certainly accomplished that goal! With attendance outstripping the Library’s predictions, late-comers gladly stood for the hour to listen to Henderson’s vivid tale of sex, drugs, and rock’n'roll in 60s Yorkville.

Henderson weaved the audience through a broad analysis of the composition of Yorkville in the 60s and what the community meant for those who lived and played in the Village. Starting with the European coffee houses, he demonstrated the remarkable transformation the Village took as over time it became the adopted stomping ground for musicians, rebelling teenagers, partiers, and finally, biker gangs. And of course no discussion of 60s Yorkville is complete without mention of the efforts of the establishment to destroy what was deemed a bad part of town that ruined good-hearted youth.

After enlightening everyone in attendance, the floor was opened up for questions, but this quickly evolved into a forum for reminiscing about life in the Village’s heyday. One lady described her 60s self in such vivid detail that a gentleman from the back loudly cried out “I remember you!” University of Toronto Press is very pleased to see such a positive reception for one of our authors, whose book will certainly prove even more thrilling than the brief introduction he presented last Thursday.

The Fabrication of Public Image

It took two years but I finally got around to reading The Fabrication of Louis XIV by Peter Burke over the past week. My only regret is that I hadn't read it sooner. Like before I wrote my thesis sooner. Burke's monograph is a wonderfully written, engaging, and informative account of the fabricated publicity of Louis XIV. To a large extent, it covers similar themes as my thesis, but with a focus on Louis' French court as opposed to the Spanish court of Philip IV. The final chapter even contains a section that specifically mentions the influence Philip's court had its French counterpart.

Aside from justifying some of the claims in my thesis, it also provides new insight into those areas space restrictions prevented me from exploring in depth. The most memorable of which was something which even Burke only discussed briefly, but eloquently penned: "One might therefore speak of a 'war of images,' or of art as the continuation of war by other means." Spoken in reference to the artistic arms race that occurred throughout Renaissance and Early Modern Europe, this one sentence concisely sums up one of the principle reasons behind each monarch's continual effort to out-shine each other. Although Burke only briefly discusses it, this concept is still at play in the publicity and propaganda campaigns of modern, democratic leaders.

A few months ago I watched a great documentary series on CBC called Love, Hate and Propaganda. Through six installments, it analyzed the various forms of propaganda employed by both the Allies and the Axis, as well as the various groups each side targeted. Aside from motivating their own troops and vilifying the enemy, both sides also utilized propaganda in an effort to intimidate their opponent. More recently, we have seen footage of ICBM tests performed by North Korea, and videos of Osama bin Laden denouncing the West and proclaiming the impending dominance of Islam and Al-Queda. Nothing could better exemplify a modern interpretation of Burke's quotation.

On the other side of the coin, the world is rife with modern examples of the more positive publicity Louis XIV fabricated. Anyone who has ever followed a political campaign has seen examples of crafted press ranging from George Bush's "Mission Accomplished" fabrication, Steven Harper's sweater ads, or the more recent G20 photo-op bonanza. All of these echo artistic campaigns launched by Louis and his ministers: the exaggeration of military successes in the war of War of the Spanish Succession, the donning of symbolic regalia in state portraits to emphasize dynasty and legitimacy, and the various media that demonstrate Louis visits to the Academies and Gobelins factory. Although there is insufficient evidence to precisely determine the ultimate reception of Louis' message, any current campaign or PR manager for a politician is unlikely to question the importance of modern propaganda.

In the end, in my opinion, it doesn't really matter whether or not Louis XIV's artistic endeavors influenced contemporary Europeans. What matters is that its usefulness was so highly regarded that every major leader undertook similar artistic programs, and that art as propaganda is a practice deemed so politically integral that it has continued down to this day. For even though the specific form has changed, the same principles and methods are, if anything, more prevalent today than in Louis' time. What does this ultimately boil down to? Another example of the importance of historical study. While knowing the origins of modern publicity might not save lives, it can certainly help us to understand the intricacies of modern political imagery. Perhaps this understanding will help us to delve beyond the headlines and see past the picture of the handshake. Perhaps we might even begin to question why our leaders deem it so necessary to live behind a cloak of deception.

Slow Death by Big Business

In Slow Death by Rubber Duck the authors test changes in chemical levels in their blood as a result of using certain toxic items. The outcome was frightening: both authors saw two- to seven-fold increases due to using everyday household products in high concentration. What is equally frightening is how hard it has been, and continues to be, to get these products banned from use. With each chemical, a common pattern emerges: numerous studies and real-world cases come out that illustrate the toxicity of the chemical, only for the various lobbyists representing the chemical and manufactoring companies to fight back and maintain the status quo. Even if a chemical does manage to get banned, the companies simply tweak the formula, and replace it with a very similar compound with equally adverse effects, causing the whole cycle to run again.

As horrible as it is to see these chemicals stay in the products that we use everyday and toxify our bodies, unfortunately this is only one symptom of a bigger problem. We have let the government become dominated by Big Business to the point that individual citizens no longer have the control to remove substances that pollute us and negatively impact our health. What's more, the onus is on scientists to prove that a substances causes serious harm beyond any doubt before a chemical is banned. There is no responsibility on the part of the companies that use and manufacture these chemicals to prove that they are safe before they enter the marketplace and pollute our lives.

Unfortunately for the people of the world, this is only one example of how the demands of Big Business control our legislative process. For all the flack they take, even Big Pharma isn't this bad: at least they have to run tests (however flawed) to prove that their new drugs work and meet certain safety thresholds before they are approved by the government. This problem is not limited to toxic chemicals, environmental issues, or even prescription drugs. It is lurking behind every backroom deal between the government of some country and a large multinational corporation. It has reached a point where the rights of companies are greater than the rights of individuals, and the penalties when companies are rarely held accountable for their misdeeds are laughable in comparison to the penalties faced for civilian offenders. What has to happen before we wake up and demand change? Is it even possible to effect change when faced by the Goliath of Big Business lobbyists and their infinite bank accounts?

To bring this piece back to the topic in Slow Death, the second-last chapter demonstrates that perhaps the tide is turning. The chapter outlines the process that ultimately led to the banning of bisphenol A (BPA) in baby bottles in Ontario, and eventually Canada. What makes this example truly promising is that unlike so many toxic chemicals of the past, BPA was banned before there was an outbreak of dying or severely ill people that could definitively be traced back to the chemical in question. Finally the government had decided that it was "better to be safe than sorry."* Although this only banned BPA from baby bottles, the ensuing press frenzy resulted in certain retailers, such as Mountain Equipment Coop, to preemptively remove all products containing BPA from their shelves. As of today, consumer demand drives companies to produce BPA-free products.

While it is unfortunate that BPA has lasted in the marketplace (and thus the environment) as long as it has, at least it is slowly being weeded out without having to first witness an episode like Minamata. Hopefully, this will symbolize a movement towards a more balanced relationship between the rights of people and the rights of corporations in today's democratic governments. The result will be a political environment conducive to banning the use of toxic chemicals, to forcing companies to prove the safety of new products before they are put into our environment, and to putting the needs and health of people above the profit of corporations. Only once this paradigm shift occurs will we truly be able to break the cycle and eliminate the life-threatening problems so succinctly demonstrated in Slow Death. At the very least, if the toxic side-effects of these products are allowed to run their course, companies will have no one left to sell their products to.

*Excerpt from Health Minister Tony Clement's press conference announcing the ban of BPA in baby bottles.

The Tao within You

Having recently read The Tao of Pooh by Benjamin Hoff, I have found myself seeing the world around me through a new lens. As someone who is still searching for principles to guide herself through the world, and someone with a love of all things Winnie-the-Pooh, my expectations of the book were high. I was not disappointed--the philosophy of the book resonated with me so much that the more I read, the more I realized I had already been traveling down the Taoist path without even knowing it. That being said, the book still enlightened me by succinctly explaining some of the key principles in a relatable manner through everyone's favorite Bear. With that in mind, I would like to share some of these tenets, and demonstrate how they have already permeated our day-to-day lives.

The principle of the Uncarved Block is the first, and simplest: things in their original simplicity contain their own natural power, which is easily spoiled and lost when that simplicity is changed. When a person is in the state of the Uncarved Block, they can enjoy the simple and the quiet, the natural and the plain. Although the style of our modern lives has us complicating things and constantly changing to keep pace with newer, more complex technology, the Uncarved Block still shines through. We experience it when we read a book; when we turn the TV off; when we just sit at the beach, enjoying the sun, listen to the waves, and do nothing. We don't give ourselves enough time to be in the state of the Uncarved Block anymore, but the fact remains that we enjoy those moments for the relaxation and peace they bring us.

The concept of Inner Nature is broken up into Things As They Are and What's There. Things As They Are dictates that everything has its own place and function, and What's There states that you need to identify and work within your limitations. Combined these two concepts form your Inner Nature, which is the guiding principle we all should use to help us meander down the path of life. Simple as this sounds, too many times people try to defy the laws of nature and use things where they don't belong, and can't work. Society tells us that if we keep pushing, anything is possible. But anything is not possible. Everyone has come up against a wall in their life that cannot be broken or by-passed. The secret of the people who have succeeded despite that wall is that they have learned to stop fighting it and use it in it's proper place to their own advantage.

In opposition to these two ideas is the Bisy Backson. The Bisy Backson is that person who is always so busy rushing and hurrying to meet a goal, that he is unable to appreciate anything in life. He is the man who is so busy working to make a lot of money, but has no time to enjoy anything that his money buys because he is so busy working. The idea isn't to get rid of goals, but instead to focus not just on the end result, but the process along the way because it is the process that makes us happy and wise. When we focus on the process, we can not only eliminate goals that provide no benefit, but also goals that are misaligned with what we really want. Everyone has started a process, only to figure out half-way through that they no longer want what they were originally aiming for. At that point, we base our decision on the process: if the process is still enjoyable, we will continue, but if not, we will give up and focus our energy on something more fruitful. In doing so we are rejecting the Bisy Backson, and instead Enjoying the Process.

Lastly, the belief that Everyone is Special. Unlike modern society, which focuses on a few "special" elites (movie stars and the like), and influences us to think that unless we accomplish something great we are not good enough, Taoism teaches that Everyone is Special in one way or another. The trick is to begin by appreciating who you are and to work within your own strengths and weaknesses (wink, wink, Inner Nature). Who hasn't embarked upon an endeavor in life (be it a job, a vacation, or a relationship) only to discover that it runs counter to our own nature? Although it can be challenging to jump ship and move to a path, the reward is a sense of happiness in what we are doing. When we follow our Inner Nature, we can lead a more productive life, and discover what it is that makes us Special.

The trick when reading something like this is to not just shrug it off as an antiquated eastern philosophy that has no relevance in our modern western society. Instead, the purpose is to analyze the knowledge that is being presented, and adapt it to our current lives in order to better them. But first we need to be open and willing to accept that someone else might have gotten it right, and that we as a society might have gotten it wrong. With reference to The Tao of Pooh, we need to perceive that it is the presence of Taoist principles that helps to explain the innate appeal of a favorite literary character. In our own lives, we need to realize that the benefits of Taoism are already exemplified in our everyday experiences. We don't need to change who we are; we just need to find what is already there, and let it thrive.

Hippocrates' Legacy Lost?

For a book titled Hippocrates' Shadow, I expected David Newman's work to be about the influence of Hippocrates on modern medicine. Instead I found just the opposite--HS is a scathing analysis of the multifaceted problems plaguing the current US health care system. Using a myriad of well-explained medical studies and personal anecdotes, Newman poignantly illustrates the key areas where the House of Medicine has drifted away from Hippocrates' ideals. Anyone who has ever spent time at a doctor's office or a hospital can personally attest to many of these issues. What makes Newman's telling so penetrating is that unlike personal experiences, the evidence he uses definitively proves how widespread and common these problems are.

While some of the issues discussed are familiar and easily identifiable (such as doctor's notoriously bad bedside manner), other are much harder to reconcile. Despite the clear evidence Newman gives about the futility of mammograms, in lieu of another screening technique, it is hard to completely abandon that ship. Regardless of how easily we accept each postulate he presents, the overall message conveyed is one that cannot be ignored: our health care system is broken and it is up to everyone (doctors and patients alike) to work together to bring about change.

Like many other Canadians, I could fill a book with my personal experiences with the problems Newman presents. However, unlike most who have faced these same roadblocks, I not only thought about real ways to fix the problems (no, throwing more money is never the right answer), I found out where these solutions were already being used. Despite what conservative medical doctors may like you to think, there is another group of health practitioners out there that still embody the ideals of the Hippocratic Oath, and who had already reconciled their practice with the problems Newman based his book around: naturopaths.

It only took one visit to a naturopath for me to see the impact their different approach makes. A standard first visit is one hour. I don't think I had ever seen a medical doctor for more than 10 minutes at a time. Already Newman's problem of not enough face time is solved. Naturopaths have two other core beliefs that separate their practice from MDs and demonstrate how a new perspective could breath new life into the House of Medicine: focus on prevention and treat the patient as a whole. While these ideal seem simple enough, as Newman's book demonstrates they are frequently neglected by the traditional medical establishment. While neither of these solutions will cost exorbitant amounts of money (unlike investing it in technology to make doctors more "effective"), they do have the potential to rectify the errors that have made our medical system so full of flaws.

In his conclusion, Newman speaks to the need to return to "Hipporates' belief in the bond, his respect for the mind/body, and his patient primacy." To reach this goal, Newman suggests that we look to history, and step back to a time when these three tenets still formed the core of medicine. However, the means he suggests are not required to reach these ends. What Newman fails to realize is that instead of looking to the past, we only needs to look right under our noses and follow the example of naturopathic medicine to heal the wounds currently crippling our public health system.

An Atheist's Pilgrimage

Having grown up in a small, predominantly Catholic community, I was not exposed to any other creeds or religious beliefs early on in life. To this day I can still remember how shocked I was when I was first introduced to the Big Bang theory. Although I did not know it at the time, this moment put me on an ideological pilgrimage that over many years would help me define the governing principles of my adult life. I had at last been exposed to a sort of atheist Mecca--a place where logic and reason and critical thinking could reign supreme over the falsehood and lies that are religion.

As I grew up, and began to think more critically of the world around me, I slowly started to reject the preachings of the church. While it was at times difficult to give up the comfort that undoubtedly came from recognizing a higher power, I learned that ultimately truth is the greater reward. Just like the realization that Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny are not the ones bringing presents and chocolate, abandoning my belief in the stories of the Bible meant giving up a faith my parents had instilled in me since birth.

I liken my experience to that of Plato's Philosopher King who leaves the cave of ignorance and finally sees the light of truth. Although there was a certain comfort in the cave, and the journey to the surface was an ideological struggle, getting there has been well worth the effort. Not only have I been able to remove the veil of religious ignorance, but the process of self-enlightenment has also sharpened my analytical skills. Free from the ideological control of an overbearing religious dictatorship, my mind was both free to think for itself, and in possession of the tools to do so.

The world may never agree that religion is in essence an archaic mythology, that while purposeful in the past, has long overstayed its welcome. However, this bleak prospect should not discourage others from embarking on their own intellectual pilgrimage and coming to terms with the realities of the world they live in.

Birth of a Historian

Although it has been many years since I have read Paris 1919, and most of the facts have now escaped my memory, I still vividly remember the sensation it inspired in me. This was the first work of history that I ever read by a real historian, at a time when I was still trying to figure out exactly what to study at university. I remember feeling as though the words were speaking to me by showing me what path to pursue. As I read chapter after chapter, Paris demonstrated to me the transitive powers of history--the ability to step back in time and experience life in another time and place. Through MacMillan's words I was able to travel back to Paris in 1919 and experience life at the peace conference.

I was also introduced to a different type of history from what I had been exposed to in high school. This history did not focus on names and dates (although they were present) but instead on what the meaning behind facts were. Instead of prattling off a factual chronology of the various meetings and treaties, Paris sought to get underneath the facts and expose the often conflicting motives of not just the countries, but the individual delegates and leaders representing those countries. It was this personalization that allowed me to feel like I could really comprehend what was going on, and relate to the various characters being represented.

Understanding the motivations behind the delegates' actions, the obstacles they faced in meeting their goals, and the often difficult compromises they had to make, is ultimately what allows the reader to truly feel as though she is walking the conference in each of the representatives' shoes. The importance of this isn't just that it makes for a great read, it also leads to a better appreciation of the importance of the conference as a pinnacle event in world history. The lines that were re-drawn on the maps of Europe, Asia, and the Middle East, along with the terms slapped on the losing nations, set the tone of international relations for years to come. Comprehending the successes and failures of the Paris conference ideally will help us to replicate the successes and avoid the failures in future conferences, just as Paris sought to improve upon its predecessor, the Congress of Vienna.

And thus emerges the practical purpose behind the study of history, and another reason why I was so drawn to the book. While knowledge for the sake of knowledge is noble in and of itself, unfortunately societies today tend to prefer disciplines that produce tangible results such as science and engineering. However, the unique perspective history provides can allow us to not only understand the past, but gain insight into present society, and hopefully, provide the requisite enlightenment to improve the future. By stepping into the past, we can learn how we got to where we are now and how we can work to build a better future. In the case of Paris, the message is about the nationalistic tensions that arose from poorly drawn borders, broken promises, and harsh reparations. Although Paris demonstrated that in most situations the intentions were honorable (or at least relateable), it also illustrated how good intentions can turn bad when based on poorly formulated premises. Many of the mistakes made have not been repeated, but in several cases, unfortunately bad habits die hard. Ultimately, the importance of understanding history, and embracing it's message, is not just what it teaches us, but what we do with what we learn.