Scholars for Peace in the Middle East Criticize Boycott Call

Scholars for Peace in the Middle East [SPME] have issued a scathing criticism of the UCU’s motions proposing a boycott of Israeli academics. SPME seems to me to be somewhat leftwing, with many members opposed to the west-bank settlements; nevertheless they have spoken out against the boycott. Here, in part, is the SPME reaction:

[T]his action [was] instigated by a small group of anti-Israel union delegates who appear not to represent the views of the union membership and who have singled out Israel for opprobrium. The motion is an attempt to delegitimize and to silence the only Jewish state in the world, one of a tiny minority of states in the Middle East that truly honor academic freedom. In Israel’s prestigious universities, faculty members represent all religious and political persuasions. Many Israeli professors are Arabs; many are Muslims. How professors at universities in Arab countries are Jews? How many are non-Muslims? How many belong to nondominant Muslim denominations?



In Iran, professors have been purged from universities for ideological and religious reasons, and an American academic, Haleh Esfandiari, was recently imprisoned while visiting her 93-year-old mother. Despite the gargantuan scale of human rights abuses in Sudan, Syria, China, Saudi Arabia, and, yes, Gaza, the UCU is not considering a boycott against any of them. Why not?





The proposed boycott is immoral and antithetical to academic principles. It shuts off dialogue, when one of the key purposes of universities is to promote dialogue and thereby the pursuit of truth. It ignores existing projects where Israeli and Palestinian academics cooperate. It requires academics to hew to one ideological line. And it constitutes discrimination on the basis of nationality.

Boycotting Israel as Moral Masturbation

That is the title of this piece by Bradley Burston [h/t to MA]. Here is an excerpt, but it is very well-written. rtwt [read the whole thing].

Just for the sake of argument, let’s suppose that you’re a British academic. You believe strongly that the occupation must end, that the Palestinians should have an independent state, that Israel’s military and diplomatic policies are wrongheaded to the point of immorality.

What to do? Simple. Find the one group within Israeli society which has consistently, vigorously and courageously campaigned against the occupation since its inception.

Then attack them.

…No matter that in the whole of the 1991 Gulf war, Saddam Hussein managed to hit all of Israel with a total of 39 missiles, and that two weeks ago, Hamas sent 40 rockets into the Sderot area in the space of a single day.

No matter that the Sapir College, Israel’s largest public college, has for years been a primary target of Qassam crews.

No matter that in boycotting all Israeli academics on the basis of their being Israelis, the measure is patently racist, a grotesque reprise of the history of curbing academic freedom.

No matter that Israeli Arab academics who are staunchly opposed to the occupation are vehement opponents of the boycott as well.

No matter, even, that opposition to the boycott runs strong within the British University and College Union itself. In fact, all the more reason to press on.

For the genuine elitist, the unpopularity of an opinion is the best assurance of its real value.

Perhaps this is why the whole boycott campaign smacks of a uniquely far-left British brand of moral masturbation, a desperate, delusional, sterile, supremely self-contained form of non-activism that risks nothing even as it changes nothing.

Update: For more analysis and discussion, check out Lower Education from the New Republic by Marty Peretz. His article, along with comments there, offer some additional insights about the nature of the institutions that have been pushing the boycott.

Boycotting Israel as Moral Masturbation

That is the title of this piece by Bradley Burston [h/t to MA]. Here is an excerpt, but it is very well-written. rtwt [read the whole thing].

Just for the sake of argument, let’s suppose that you’re a British academic. You believe strongly that the occupation must end, that the Palestinians should have an independent state, that Israel’s military and diplomatic policies are wrongheaded to the point of immorality.

What to do? Simple. Find the one group within Israeli society which has consistently, vigorously and courageously campaigned against the occupation since its inception.

Then attack them.

…No matter that in the whole of the 1991 Gulf war, Saddam Hussein managed to hit all of Israel with a total of 39 missiles, and that two weeks ago, Hamas sent 40 rockets into the Sderot area in the space of a single day.

No matter that the Sapir College, Israel’s largest public college, has for years been a primary target of Qassam crews.

No matter that in boycotting all Israeli academics on the basis of their being Israelis, the measure is patently racist, a grotesque reprise of the history of curbing academic freedom.

No matter that Israeli Arab academics who are staunchly opposed to the occupation are vehement opponents of the boycott as well.

No matter, even, that opposition to the boycott runs strong within the British University and College Union itself. In fact, all the more reason to press on.

For the genuine elitist, the unpopularity of an opinion is the best assurance of its real value.

Perhaps this is why the whole boycott campaign smacks of a uniquely far-left British brand of moral masturbation, a desperate, delusional, sterile, supremely self-contained form of non-activism that risks nothing even as it changes nothing.

Update: For more analysis and discussion, check out Lower Education from the New Republic by Marty Peretz. His article, along with comments there, offer some additional insights about the nature of the institutions that have been pushing the boycott.

Afternoon Tea: Eat Until the Marginal Utility Is Zero

A proper English afternoon tea is something that refined people take in an elegant atmosphere. I have been told by several people that it is not the same thing as “high tea”, which the plebian middle classes take much later in the afternoon/evening in their attempts to emulate the aristocracy.

Last year when I was in England, MA urged me to take afternoon tea “at some tony place” like the Ritz or The Savoy. I balked because I had so many things I wanted to do, and I never got around to doing the tea adventure.

This year, it occurred to me that I should try to follow his advice which has generally been very good and useful. Alas, it was too late for me to book a reservation at the Ritz or The Savoy. Never fear, though, there are plenty of elegant environments in the Mayfair district and environs of London where one can take afternoon tea.

To begin, I solicited advice from many people in this area. Every single one of them who had considerable experience agreed that both the Ritz and The Savoy no longer had “it”, that they were trading on their reputations. There was strong support for Claridge’s, some mild support for Brown’s, and a smattering of mentions of Harrod’s or Fortnum and Mason’s. They all also agreed that it is inadvisable to eat anything after breakfast before tea, because while it may not look like a lot of food, it can be very filling if the place keeps bringing you more as you finish each lot.

I followed up this lively discussion with a search of the internet for information, advice, and reviews. I had never had afternoon tea before. Hell, I thought “clotted cream” meant cream that had gone bad and had curdled (it doesn’t mean that at all. It refers to Devon cream), and so I had avoided it like the plague, wondering why anyone in their right minds would ever want to eat it on scones (which are a bit like over-sized baking-powder biscuits, when you get right down to it).

I was told that one is expected to wear a coat and tie to afternoon tea, which poses no problem for me since that is often how I dress when I teach. But it turns out that many/most establishments now have a “smart casual” dress code that means anything other than muddy work boots seems to be acceptable, more’s the pity.

Here are some of the links to reviews and write-ups about afternoon tea here, here, and here, for those who might be interested.

Because I started so late to try to get reservations, the more popular places didn’t have a table available at a convenient time the very next day. At the same time, at least one of the reviews said that The Four Seasons was an excellent place to begin if you haven’t taken afternoon tea before at one of these tony types of places. So I had my afternoon-tea deflowering at The Lounge in The Four Seasons a few days ago (and, appropriately, began with Jasmine tea).

Here is an edited version of what I wrote to Ms. Eclectic after the experience:

Tea at the Four Seasons was very nice. The menu was exactly as described on the internet, and I ordered the spring champagne tea because I liked the sounds of those sandwiches better than the ones served for the traditional afternoon tea.

I started with champagne and then had jasmine tea. The hostess/server was very attentive, but in a tasteful and discreet way; she didn’t hover, but she kept her eye on me to make sure everything was okay. Early on, while I was drinking my champagne, she asked if I would like a newspaper or magazine, and when I said I thought that might be nice, she quite appropriately guessed that The Telegraph would suit me. [see Tuesday's posting for a description]

After she had served me the tea, she brought a sort of silver tree-like thing, almost two-feet tall, that had clotted cream and jam on a plate at the bottom, sandwiches in the middle, and scones (warm and covered) on the top. I ate the five little sandwiches first (even the one with crab, the one with smoked salmon, and the one with olives, things I’m not usually very keen on, being more of a burger or peanut-butter-and-jam kind of guy) and before I could start on the scones, the server asked whether I would like more sandwiches, so I had another round of those. The crab sandwiches were in little puff thingies, and the smoked salmon were on mini-croissants, and there was a delicious chicken sandwich and something else with lots of mushrooms. The bread was thin, and the crusts had been removed, as I had been told is an absolute necessity at a proper English tea. The server explained them all to me, but I’ve forgotten what they were.

Then I had the scones: one with raisins (called a “fruit scone” by many people) and one plain. The “clotted” cream is very spreadable and the strawberry-rhubarb jam was good. When I had finished those, they brought out two more, which I couldn’t finish.

All the time, the server kept pouring the tea for me. She was very good — not overbearing, but on the ball. The tea began to taste a bit bitter near the end of the pot, so when she asked if she could bring me another pot, I asked for their anniversary blend, which was really nice. If you ever go there, I recommend trying it.

Then she brought out little desserts. I was allowed to choose three of the five. I had a tiny almond cream-filled puff with something that seemed like hardened caramelized sugar on top, a fabulous strawberry and cream tart, and some horrid ginger and raspberry torte, which was the only thing I found totally inedible during the entire tea. It was all finished off with a beige-coloured champagne truffle on a strawberry slice, all on a large spoon. I had no idea how to eat it, so I just shoved the whole thing into my mouth.

The entire experience/adventure took me over an hour and a half, and I could gladly have taken longer and stretched it out more, but I had to leave to catch my ride back to the castle.

I’m glad I did it, but I am not so sure I want to do a whole lot more of these (just for comparison’s sake). I had a reservation for one at Brown’s this Friday after my class’s field trip to London (for a seminar on congestion pricing), and one at Claridge’s for the following Tuesday. I have canceled the one at Brown’s and go to Devonshire directly on the weekend and sample an afternoon tea at some “tony place” there in the own of Bath (the Royal Crescent for sure, and perhaps the Pump House — recommendations are eagrely solicited).

While I was at The Four Seasons, I absolutely loved the experience and thought “Wow! This is something I could get used to if I had the money.” but when I had returned to the castle and was suffering from having over-eaten, I knew I would not be able to do this on a regular basis, at least not if I ate everything I could.

In our introductory economics courses, we often make the point that at all-you-can-eat buffets, people tend to keep eating so long as their expected marginal utility is positive (i.e. up to the point at which it becomes zero). I think I did that at the Four Seasons, but ex postI might have gone past the zero point [of course I did not go through the zero point on an expected utility basis; I am, after all, a rational maximizer].

More later if I get a chance, describing some comparison experiences.

Afternoon Tea: Eat Until the Marginal Utility Is Zero

A proper English afternoon tea is something that refined people take in an elegant atmosphere. I have been told by several people that it is not the same thing as “high tea”, which the plebian middle classes take much later in the afternoon/evening in their attempts to emulate the aristocracy.

Last year when I was in England, MA urged me to take afternoon tea “at some tony place” like the Ritz or The Savoy. I balked because I had so many things I wanted to do, and I never got around to doing the tea adventure.

This year, it occurred to me that I should try to follow his advice which has generally been very good and useful. Alas, it was too late for me to book a reservation at the Ritz or The Savoy. Never fear, though, there are plenty of elegant environments in the Mayfair district and environs of London where one can take afternoon tea.

To begin, I solicited advice from many people in this area. Every single one of them who had considerable experience agreed that both the Ritz and The Savoy no longer had “it”, that they were trading on their reputations. There was strong support for Claridge’s, some mild support for Brown’s, and a smattering of mentions of Harrod’s or Fortnum and Mason’s. They all also agreed that it is inadvisable to eat anything after breakfast before tea, because while it may not look like a lot of food, it can be very filling if the place keeps bringing you more as you finish each lot.

I followed up this lively discussion with a search of the internet for information, advice, and reviews. I had never had afternoon tea before. Hell, I thought “clotted cream” meant cream that had gone bad and had curdled (it doesn’t mean that at all. It refers to Devon cream), and so I had avoided it like the plague, wondering why anyone in their right minds would ever want to eat it on scones (which are a bit like over-sized baking-powder biscuits, when you get right down to it).

I was told that one is expected to wear a coat and tie to afternoon tea, which poses no problem for me since that is often how I dress when I teach. But it turns out that many/most establishments now have a “smart casual” dress code that means anything other than muddy work boots seems to be acceptable, more’s the pity.

Here are some of the links to reviews and write-ups about afternoon tea here, here, and here, for those who might be interested.

Because I started so late to try to get reservations, the more popular places didn’t have a table available at a convenient time the very next day. At the same time, at least one of the reviews said that The Four Seasons was an excellent place to begin if you haven’t taken afternoon tea before at one of these tony types of places. So I had my afternoon-tea deflowering at The Lounge in The Four Seasons a few days ago (and, appropriately, began with Jasmine tea).

Here is an edited version of what I wrote to Ms. Eclectic after the experience:

Tea at the Four Seasons was very nice. The menu was exactly as described on the internet, and I ordered the spring champagne tea because I liked the sounds of those sandwiches better than the ones served for the traditional afternoon tea.

I started with champagne and then had jasmine tea. The hostess/server was very attentive, but in a tasteful and discreet way; she didn’t hover, but she kept her eye on me to make sure everything was okay. Early on, while I was drinking my champagne, she asked if I would like a newspaper or magazine, and when I said I thought that might be nice, she quite appropriately guessed that The Telegraph would suit me. [see Tuesday's posting for a description]

After she had served me the tea, she brought a sort of silver tree-like thing, almost two-feet tall, that had clotted cream and jam on a plate at the bottom, sandwiches in the middle, and scones (warm and covered) on the top. I ate the five little sandwiches first (even the one with crab, the one with smoked salmon, and the one with olives, things I’m not usually very keen on, being more of a burger or peanut-butter-and-jam kind of guy) and before I could start on the scones, the server asked whether I would like more sandwiches, so I had another round of those. The crab sandwiches were in little puff thingies, and the smoked salmon were on mini-croissants, and there was a delicious chicken sandwich and something else with lots of mushrooms. The bread was thin, and the crusts had been removed, as I had been told is an absolute necessity at a proper English tea. The server explained them all to me, but I’ve forgotten what they were.

Then I had the scones: one with raisins (called a “fruit scone” by many people) and one plain. The “clotted” cream is very spreadable and the strawberry-rhubarb jam was good. When I had finished those, they brought out two more, which I couldn’t finish.

All the time, the server kept pouring the tea for me. She was very good — not overbearing, but on the ball. The tea began to taste a bit bitter near the end of the pot, so when she asked if she could bring me another pot, I asked for their anniversary blend, which was really nice. If you ever go there, I recommend trying it.

Then she brought out little desserts. I was allowed to choose three of the five. I had a tiny almond cream-filled puff with something that seemed like hardened caramelized sugar on top, a fabulous strawberry and cream tart, and some horrid ginger and raspberry torte, which was the only thing I found totally inedible during the entire tea. It was all finished off with a beige-coloured champagne truffle on a strawberry slice, all on a large spoon. I had no idea how to eat it, so I just shoved the whole thing into my mouth.

The entire experience/adventure took me over an hour and a half, and I could gladly have taken longer and stretched it out more, but I had to leave to catch my ride back to the castle.

I’m glad I did it, but I am not so sure I want to do a whole lot more of these (just for comparison’s sake). I had a reservation for one at Brown’s this Friday after my class’s field trip to London (for a seminar on congestion pricing), and one at Claridge’s for the following Tuesday. I have canceled the one at Brown’s and go to Devonshire directly on the weekend and sample an afternoon tea at some “tony place” there in the own of Bath (the Royal Crescent for sure, and perhaps the Pump House — recommendations are eagrely solicited).

While I was at The Four Seasons, I absolutely loved the experience and thought “Wow! This is something I could get used to if I had the money.” but when I had returned to the castle and was suffering from having over-eaten, I knew I would not be able to do this on a regular basis, at least not if I ate everything I could.

In our introductory economics courses, we often make the point that at all-you-can-eat buffets, people tend to keep eating so long as their expected marginal utility is positive (i.e. up to the point at which it becomes zero). I think I did that at the Four Seasons, but ex postI might have gone past the zero point [of course I did not go through the zero point on an expected utility basis; I am, after all, a rational maximizer].

More later if I get a chance, describing some comparison experiences.

Afternoon Tea: Eat Until the Marginal Utility Is Zero

A proper English afternoon tea is something that refined people take in an elegant atmosphere. I have been told by several people that it is not the same thing as “high tea”, which the plebian middle classes take much later in the afternoon/evening in their attempts to emulate the aristocracy.

Last year when I was in England, MA urged me to take afternoon tea “at some tony place” like the Ritz or The Savoy. I balked because I had so many things I wanted to do, and I never got around to doing the tea adventure.

This year, it occurred to me that I should try to follow his advice which has generally been very good and useful. Alas, it was too late for me to book a reservation at the Ritz or The Savoy. Never fear, though, there are plenty of elegant environments in the Mayfair district and environs of London where one can take afternoon tea.

To begin, I solicited advice from many people in this area. Every single one of them who had considerable experience agreed that both the Ritz and The Savoy no longer had “it”, that they were trading on their reputations. There was strong support for Claridge’s, some mild support for Brown’s, and a smattering of mentions of Harrod’s or Fortnum and Mason’s. They all also agreed that it is inadvisable to eat anything after breakfast before tea, because while it may not look like a lot of food, it can be very filling if the place keeps bringing you more as you finish each lot.

I followed up this lively discussion with a search of the internet for information, advice, and reviews. I had never had afternoon tea before. Hell, I thought “clotted cream” meant cream that had gone bad and had curdled (it doesn’t mean that at all. It refers to Devon cream), and so I had avoided it like the plague, wondering why anyone in their right minds would ever want to eat it on scones (which are a bit like over-sized baking-powder biscuits, when you get right down to it).

I was told that one is expected to wear a coat and tie to afternoon tea, which poses no problem for me since that is often how I dress when I teach. But it turns out that many/most establishments now have a “smart casual” dress code that means anything other than muddy work boots seems to be acceptable, more’s the pity.

Here are some of the links to reviews and write-ups about afternoon tea here, here, and here, for those who might be interested.

Because I started so late to try to get reservations, the more popular places didn’t have a table available at a convenient time the very next day. At the same time, at least one of the reviews said that The Four Seasons was an excellent place to begin if you haven’t taken afternoon tea before at one of these tony types of places. So I had my afternoon-tea deflowering at The Lounge in The Four Seasons a few days ago (and, appropriately, began with Jasmine tea).

Here is an edited version of what I wrote to Ms. Eclectic after the experience:

Tea at the Four Seasons was very nice. The menu was exactly as described on the internet, and I ordered the spring champagne tea because I liked the sounds of those sandwiches better than the ones served for the traditional afternoon tea.

I started with champagne and then had jasmine tea. The hostess/server was very attentive, but in a tasteful and discreet way; she didn’t hover, but she kept her eye on me to make sure everything was okay. Early on, while I was drinking my champagne, she asked if I would like a newspaper or magazine, and when I said I thought that might be nice, she quite appropriately guessed that The Telegraph would suit me. [see Tuesday's posting for a description]

After she had served me the tea, she brought a sort of silver tree-like thing, almost two-feet tall, that had clotted cream and jam on a plate at the bottom, sandwiches in the middle, and scones (warm and covered) on the top. I ate the five little sandwiches first (even the one with crab, the one with smoked salmon, and the one with olives, things I’m not usually very keen on, being more of a burger or peanut-butter-and-jam kind of guy) and before I could start on the scones, the server asked whether I would like more sandwiches, so I had another round of those. The crab sandwiches were in little puff thingies, and the smoked salmon were on mini-croissants, and there was a delicious chicken sandwich and something else with lots of mushrooms. The bread was thin, and the crusts had been removed, as I had been told is an absolute necessity at a proper English tea. The server explained them all to me, but I’ve forgotten what they were.

Then I had the scones: one with raisins (called a “fruit scone” by many people) and one plain. The “clotted” cream is very spreadable and the strawberry-rhubarb jam was good. When I had finished those, they brought out two more, which I couldn’t finish.

All the time, the server kept pouring the tea for me. She was very good — not overbearing, but on the ball. The tea began to taste a bit bitter near the end of the pot, so when she asked if she could bring me another pot, I asked for their anniversary blend, which was really nice. If you ever go there, I recommend trying it.

Then she brought out little desserts. I was allowed to choose three of the five. I had a tiny almond cream-filled puff with something that seemed like hardened caramelized sugar on top, a fabulous strawberry and cream tart, and some horrid ginger and raspberry torte, which was the only thing I found totally inedible during the entire tea. It was all finished off with a beige-coloured champagne truffle on a strawberry slice, all on a large spoon. I had no idea how to eat it, so I just shoved the whole thing into my mouth.

The entire experience/adventure took me over an hour and a half, and I could gladly have taken longer and stretched it out more, but I had to leave to catch my ride back to the castle.

I’m glad I did it, but I am not so sure I want to do a whole lot more of these (just for comparison’s sake). I had a reservation for one at Brown’s this Friday after my class’s field trip to London (for a seminar on congestion pricing), and one at Claridge’s for the following Tuesday. I have canceled the one at Brown’s and go to Devonshire directly on the weekend and sample an afternoon tea at some “tony place” there in the own of Bath (the Royal Crescent for sure, and perhaps the Pump House — recommendations are eagrely solicited).

While I was at The Four Seasons, I absolutely loved the experience and thought “Wow! This is something I could get used to if I had the money.” but when I had returned to the castle and was suffering from having over-eaten, I knew I would not be able to do this on a regular basis, at least not if I ate everything I could.

In our introductory economics courses, we often make the point that at all-you-can-eat buffets, people tend to keep eating so long as their expected marginal utility is positive (i.e. up to the point at which it becomes zero). I think I did that at the Four Seasons, but ex postI might have gone past the zero point [of course I did not go through the zero point on an expected utility basis; I am, after all, a rational maximizer].

More later if I get a chance, describing some comparison experiences.

Brit Union of Academics Votes to Boycott Israeli Scholars

First it was the AUT leadership, voting a boycott of Israeli scholars, and they were rebuffed, to say the least, by their general membership.

Then it was NATFHE, another union of academics, voting to boycott Israeli scholars, but they soon merged with the AUT, leaving a vote of their directors as meaningless.

But now the leadership of the combined unions, under the general grouping, the UCU, have voted to support a boycott of Israeli academics.

I strongly oppose their views on two grounds:

1. First, I am not convinced that Israel is doing much wrong with its occupation of the west bank. Failure to occupy the west bank would have been like telling robbers that if they get caught, the only punishment is that they must give back what they have stolen and that there will be no further deterrence. That’s just plain silly because it doesn’t discourage robbers from trying to steal again and again.

   Israel repelled an attack in 1967, only to have to fight another war in 1973. After that war, they said (and quite rightly under both international law and following just plain common sense) if you folks are going to keep using these lands as launching pads, both literally and figuratively, we’re going to hold them until you renounce such plans. Such renunciation has not occurred.

   Nevertheless, Israel has been open and democratic. Yes, it cut off payments to the Palestinian Authority once Hamas was elected, and for bloody good reason: Hamas has as one of its primary goals the eradication of Israel (and, incidentally, the Jews who live there). There is no earthly reason why the UCU should expect Israel to continue making payments to a sworn enemy. If they really disagree, let them all contribute 10% of their salaries to the US Republican party.

2. But even if you don’t accept my first point, this one is compelling: in the name of academic freedom, there is no justifiable reason for this boycott. If the UCU wants to single out academics for boycott, let them single out those from China or Iraq or Iran or Egypt or any other place where there are documented human rights abuses or flagrant violations of the concept of academic freedom. Academic freedom says that we scholars should assess the works of others on their merits, not on the basis of the politics of their home country.

   Instead, the UCU picks on Israeli academics. There can be only one reason for this: anti-semitism, pure and simple. And it is frightening.

For more, please see this, which summarizes the motions that were passed by the UCU Congress.

Also, please see this from Engage, which says

1 This is not a decision to institute a boycott. That decision can only be made by the whole membership through a ballot. That was the commitment on which Sally Hunt was elected as General Secretary. Congress also backed a policy which does not allow a boycott of Israeli academic institutions unless it is called for by Israeli campus trade unions. Which it won’t be.

2 UCU Congress has today voted for a roadshow touring colleges and universities drumming up support for an exclusion of Israelis – and only Israelis – from our campuses, our conferences and our journals. The union is mandated to finance this tour and to stack the debate in favour of a pro-boycott outcome.

And also see this for a reaction.

And one final point: where is the outrage from non-Jewish, non-Israeli organizations? I am embarrassed and appalled by the (so far) lack of responses from such groups. Am I the only gentile in the universe who sees things this way?

[h/t to MA for the links]

Update #1: also see this from Melanie Phillips and this from Little Green Footballs.

Update #2: Both Melanie Phillips and Normblog quote this from Ha’aretz:

On Wednesday, representatives of the new British University and College Union (UCU) will be meeting in Bournemouth. On the agenda is another proposal to boycott Israel’s academic institutions. These proposals have become as regular and as predictable as Qassam attacks on Sderot. The fact that studies at the Sapir Academic College in Sderot are not taking place because of the constant rocket fire from Gaza, even though the college is not in occupied territory and Gaza is no longer occupied, apparently does not bother British academia. The fact that Hamas, which controls the Palestinian Authority, does not recognize even pre-1967 Israel, and commits acts of terror against civilians, does not matter either. These nuances did not stop one boycott initiator from saying last week that justice in the Palestinian-Israeli conflict is entirely on one side.

Norm continued,

This editorial in Haaretz rightly identifies the thinking of the would-be boycotters as impelled by a desire to de-legitimize Israel – identifies it with ‘the position that the very birth of the Jewish state was a mistake’.

Update #3: And check out Stephen Pollard’s column about boycotts of Israel.

Update #4: Rénald writes,

I find this totally ridiculous! Why of all people attack the scholars??? Why not the bakers, bankers and doughnut makers? It would make as much sense.

Boycotting scholars is like boycotting knowledge…it can only lead to ignorance or maybe they are already there!

to which BenS adds,

Of course, but why boycott any Jewish institution? The boycotters are playing copycat and operating like an ignorant herd….which they are. I’ll make one exception for these ignorant hypocrites: let them boycott for themselves and their families any medical or scientific advancement created or produced by Jews -— but being hypocrites, they won’t do that.

Update #5 Tim Worstall says that English academic unions are not worth worrying about.

The academic unions are well known to be populated and run by people with any number of very peculiar bees buzzing under their bonnets. The rest of us look upon them almost fondly, as examples of a well meaning but possibly futile form of Care in the Community.

The idea that we should take seriously anything that comes from such obvious nutters simply never occurs to those of us outside the hallowed halls of academe.

I hope he’s right, but the UCU is still wrong and very unscholarly.

Ayr, Scotland

Several weeks ago, Ms. Eclectic, The Chauffeur, and I enjoyed a visit to Ayr, southwest of Glasgow, Scotland. We stayed in an apartment in one of the taller buildings at the mouth of the river.



You have to hand it to the folks there. They have a bit of a sense of humour, especially in the naming of their casino:







This was the view from our apartment building, looking back at the bridges from which I took that first photo:







It was beautiful, and we had a very relaxing stay.

British Newspapers, in a Nutshell

One of my colleagues informed me at lunch yesterday that,

• People who read The Guardian think the country should be run by the communists.
• People who read The Telegraph think the country already is being run by the communists.

His succinct version is much better than this one from Yes, Minister, which he later forwarded to me.

Here is the full version of Jim Hacker (MP) discussing the national press with his civil servants, from the episode ‘A Conflict of Interest’:



Jim: I know exactly who reads the papers.

The Daily Mail is read by people who think they run the country.

The Guardian is read by people who think they ought to run the country.

The Times is read by people who actually do run the country.

The Daily Mirror is read by the wives of the people who run the country.

The Financial Times is read by people who own the country.

The Morning Star is read by people who think the country ought to be run by another country.

The Daily Telegraph is read by people who think it is.

Sir Humphrey: Prime Minister, what about people who read the Sun.

Bernard: Sun readers don’t care who runs the country as long as she’s got big tits.

The Yen “Carry Trade”

I’m generally pretty ignorant when it comes to international finance and exchange rate determination, so can someone please tell me why this is an equilibrium (from Steve Poloz):

The yen carry trade can take on a variety of forms, but at the heart of each is a loan taken out in Japanese yen, the proceeds of which are used to invest in financial assets elsewhere in the world. It takes advantage of the fact that Japanese interest rates are extraordinarily low, while other countries’ interest rates are much higher. For example, an investor can borrow yen from a Japanese bank, convert the funds into Canadian dollars, buy a Canadian government bond, and earn an interest rate spread of around 4%.



The best part of this investment strategy is that the investor makes a 4% spread return on the entire structure, most of which is not his money. He may be required to put up 5% or 10% collateral with the bank – essentially investing $5 of his own money to buy $100 in Canadian bonds, thereby earning a $4 return on just $5 invested, or effectively 80%. Layered on top of the structure is an expectation that the Japanese yen will continue to drift down while the Canadian dollar may continue to appreciate – another positive return.

Why haven’t speculators/arbitragers been doing this to the nth degree, driving up Japanese interest rates and driving down Canadian interest rates? And why hasn’t this caused expectations of future apprectiation or depreciation of the relevant currencies? How can this be an equilibrium that lasts longer than a few nano-seconds, much less months or even years? Why aren’t fund managers and investors doing this with even bigger chunks of their portfolios? Is the risk of future foreign exchange movement so high? Really????



Steve’s answer, which doesn’t completely persuade me, is that, yes, exchange rate risk is at work here.

The problem with these structures is the potential for an abrupt unwinding of positions. An investor who decides to take his $5 out of the market sells $100 in Canadian bonds, sells $100 of Canadian dollars, and buys yen to close his position. Accordingly, a shift in expectations about monetary policies or currencies can lead to a very rapid evaporation of positions and huge moves in exchange rates.



The bottom line? The yen carry trade is a legitimate tool for many financial institutions. But, like many synthetic financial structures, its over-use as a wagering tool runs big risks, both for the investors and for the global financial system at large.