Adding a Privacy Policy

I’ve decided to give my website a privacy policy. It’s maybe more of a privacy promise.

It might sound strange to make a privacy policy for a website with which I don’t intend users to interact, but I’ve realized that even browsing news websites or social media has privacy implications for users who visit them. So I wanted to state what assurances users can have when visiting my website—and set a standard for myself to meet when I make modifications to my website.

Most of the points in it boil down to one thing—if you visit my site, that fact remains between you and my site. No one else will know—not Google, not Facebook, not your ISP, not the airplane WiFi you’re using, not some ad network.

I went to some trouble to make these assurances. For example, I had to create a WordPress child theme which prevents loading stylesheets associated with Google Fonts used by default. Then—since I still wanted to use some of those fonts—I needed to check the licensing on them, download them, convert them to a form I could host locally, and incorporate them into a stylesheet on my own server.

I also needed to audit the source code for all the WordPress plugins I use to see what requests they make, if any, to other parties (and I’ll have to repeat this process if I ever add a new plugin). This was more challenging than I realized.

I needed to ensure I had no malware present and that my website remain free of malware. I began with WordPress’s hardening guide. I found a very thorough plugin for comparing file versions against known-good versions (WordFence, which I found recommended in the hardening guide). I also made additional checks of file permissions, excised unused plugins, made sure all server software was up to date, and incorporated additional protections into the web server configuration to limit my attack surface.

Finally, I had to browse my website for a while using my local developer tools built into my browser, both to see if any requests went to a domain other than my own and to inspect what cookies, local storage, and session storage data were created. This turned up a plugin that brought in icons from a third party site, which I had to replace.

After all that, I feel sure I can make the assurances my privacy policy makes.

The Shareholder Primacy Myth

I used to hold a common misconception about corporations in the United States that I’ve seen commonly shared by friends and strangers online. I believed that the executive leadership of corporations was legally mandated to prioritize and maximize profit for shareholders, putting this duty above all other considerations. I’ve since learned that this misapprehension is, at best, controversial, and at worst, outright false and dangerous.

The doctrine of prioritizing shareholder interests above all others is called shareholder primacy. It appears to have been promulgated in particular by theorist Milton Friedman (an economic theorist who advised U.S. President Reagan and UK Prime Minister Thatcher, espousing free-market policies with minimal government interference).

The initial notion of shareholder primacy in the U.S. seems to come from a misinterpretation of a case called Dodge v. Ford Motor Company. That took place back in 1919, when Henry Ford wanted to take surplus profits from his publicly shared company and, rather than continuing dividends, reinvest those into his factories and workforce. Shareholders took him to court, and the court forced him to pay dividends.

The judgment in this case, its interpretation, and its context are more complex than I feel willing to stretch as a non-lawyer. However, I understand most definitely—based on that case and case law afterward, which states unambiguously what limits courts have to interfere in business decisions—that Dodge v. Ford Motor Company did not establish the shareholder primacy doctrine as it lives, in myth, today. In that case, the court ruled that (emphasis mine),

courts of equity will not interfere in the management of the directors unless it is clearly made to appear that they are guilty of fraud or misappropriation of the corporate funds, or refuse to declare a dividend when the corporation has a surplus of net profits which it can, without detriment to its business, divide among its stockholders, and when a refusal to do so would amount to such an abuse of discretion as would constitute a fraud, or breach of that good faith which they are bound to exercise towards the stockholders.

Subsequent case law has only underscored the original intent. Case law has evolved into a doctrine called the “business judgment rule” in many common law countries, including the U.S. It gives corporate business leaders generous autonomy in making business decisions, even ones that sacrifice short-term profit or reduce shareholder value, so long as those decisions aren’t outright profligate, fraudulent, and so on. Duty to the shareholders is grounded in dealing fairly, not submissively.

The business judgment rule allows that, “in making business decisions not involving direct self-interest or self-dealing, corporate directors act on an informed basis, in good faith, and in the honest belief that their actions are in the corporation’s best interest.”

So it seems clear that the shareholder primacy myth was predicated on, charitably speaking, a misunderstanding of case law. If there were any doubt about the interpretation of the judgment in Dodge v. Ford Motor Company, there are subsequent cases which have provided clear precedent and tests of the court’s powers in matters of executive decision making.

The next time someone tells you that corporations exist only, or first and foremost, to serve the shareholders, you know now that belief has no basis in law, if not reality. Where CEOs and boards hold themselves to the standard of conduct that shareholder primacy implies—always capitulating to shareholder whims, prioritizing share price and profit in every decision—they are imposing their own independent values and beliefs on corporate governance. Shareholder primacy is itself a leadership decision, not a law.

Almost Human

Not that anyone asked, but here’s what skeeves me out about Mark Zuckerberg’s recent attempts to tour the nation and pretend to be a normal person to everyone he meets.

He hasn’t announced a single thing of the sort, but no breathing human can doubt he’s considering running for president of the US. His ambitions are as naked as they are clumsy. This comes from a man who has zero experience in the political arena and, when he inevitably announces, will only reveal the extent of his entitlement to a candidacy to the absolute apex of political accomplishment.

This ham-fisted tour shows his lack of agility or circumspection. So does running a company which fostered an attitude that speed trumped care, craft, or empathy. So does making statements about the death of privacy as a “social norm” and then walking it back.

The bottom line for me is, the whole thing bespeaks a man who simply feels he gets to run if he wants. Trump opened up a kind of permission effect: qualifications are now off the table. Now only volume matters. 2020 will see a field of clowns campaign, each jockeying for attention. And Zuckerberg is entitled to his captive nation.

Who to Call When Someone is Having a Mental Health Crisis in Portland

Last week, I read a piece aimed at San Franciscans by a tech blogger who was so oblivious and insensitive that I got vicariously ashamed before the end. Soon after, I read another article that restored my hope—what San Franciscans can do when they encounter homeless individuals having a crisis.

Portland’s in the middle of its own crisis—one of dwindling housing and skyrocketing rates of homelessness which has led to a state of emergency. People sleeping outside in Portland now number in the thousands.

Despite Portland’s efforts in de-escalation training and its dedicated Behavioral Health Unit, the police may still not be the best option to call when someone is experiencing a crisis. The article I mentioned earlier does a great job of explaining why calling the police is not always the right answer.

Below I’m compiling resources to use in Portland if someone you know, yourself, or someone on the street is experiencing a crisis and needs intervention right away. I intend this post to be a living document—I may update it as I learn about more resources or make corrections. (The most recent update was on 22 Feb 16 at 16:47 PST).


Right now, the best resource I know of in Portland is the Multnomah County Mental Health Crisis Intervention service. They offer

  • crisis counseling by phone, with translation;
  • mobile crisis outreach for in-person assessment;
  • referrals to low-cost and sliding-scale services;
  • information on community resources; and
  • a no-cost urgent walk-in clinic at 4212 SE Division St, operated by OHSU and Cascadia Health, open daily from 7 a.m to 10:30 p.m.

Their number is (503) 988-4888, available twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. (Their toll-free number is (800) 716-9769, and as of the time I write this, they can be texted at (503) 201-1351, a number which is monitored once a day.) Their page includes information on nearby counties as well.


Accessible through the above service is also the Multnomah County Crisis Assessment and Treatment Center (CATC) (direct number (503) 232-1099) which provides a temporary facility for people needing to stabilize from mental illness symptoms (provided by Central City Concern).


Cascadia Project Respond is a crisis service provided by Cascadia Behavioral Healthcare, also available through the the Multnomah Call Center (same number as the first resource,  (503) 988-4888). Project Respond also works with the Portland Police Behavioral Health Unit I mentioned before, pairing officers responding to crisis with mental health professionals in situations where 911 dispatches officers to incidents involving mental health. (I must state, from my experience, officers may not always be accompanied by mental health professionals when intervening.)


Rose City Resource offers a smattering of resources—hotline numbers and explanations of rights—targeted at homeless people, and they print these resources as a portable booklet. They’re a resource provided by Street Roots which provides jobs for homeless and indigent individuals via the local newspaper and media they provide.


If you can’t look up or remember the above resources, Oregonians always have 211 at their disposal to find resources on the fly. Call it from any phone!

Decentering Self

In school, we learn two things about Aristotle. First, we learn that he was profoundly influential for millennia, and probably smarter than you. Second, we learn that he was mostly wrong about everything having to do with the real world.

It’s not hard to figure out why. He used a rationalistic methodology rather than an empirical one, meaning that rather than going out to examine and measure firsthand, he mostly explored the universe as a mental exercise. Unfortunately, this means he didn’t have enough information available to challenge his own biases in his worldview. He even believed that women had fewer teeth than men, which is demonstrably false.

There are numerous examples, from Aristotle and afterwards directed by his influence, for which his methodology’s flaws are made manifest as theories in contradiction of available evidence. For example, Ptolemy’s Almagest protected the Aristotelian geocentric worldview, even in the face of evidence to the contrary, by inventing epicycles to explain planetary motions which didn’t make sense otherwise.

I see the same willful ignorance play out today in discussions regarding equality, empathy, and justice. Without giving specific examples or links, I have observed two major problems with arguments I hear from racists, men’s rights activists, and others.

First, their arguments only make sense if they completely deny the evidence they hear which conflicts with their point of view. Men’s rights activists thrive on stories of false rape accusations. Racists need racism to be “over.”

Second, relatedly, they believe they don’t even need to hear others’ points of view to inform their worldview. In other words, it’s not necessary to listen to people of color to learn what they need about racism. They don’t need to listen to women to invalidate their discomfort or fears. They don’t have to listen to disabled people. It all makes sense to them, without the inconvenience of going into the world.

I can forgive Aristotle drawing the wrong conclusions about nature, but I have trouble with those who apply methods of rationality to the people around them. It’s leaping to conclusions. It’s judging a book by its cover. It’s hubris. Aristotle thought the world was the center of the universe because it just seemed that way. Do you feel like the center of your own universe?

We all need to take time to stop and listen. We need to make room for others’ feelings in our world. We need to decenter ourselves sometimes. Not always, but very often, kindness flows from doing so.

Disclosing and Consequences

Before writing “Disclosing,” I would’ve given anything to peek into the future and see this post I’m about to write. I was fearful of the consequences of putting information out in the world that I could never take back. I don’t know what I expected. I just know I’ve never been so worked up about a piece of apparent non-information ever.

Afterwards, I was happy to have ripped the bandage off and have done with it. It did ease my anxiety in a lot of ways. I’ve formed a lot of habits around controlling information about my private life (even up to being cagey about my full name), and it’s freeing to lower that boundary.

It reminds me of the attitude I carried with me early in my transition, about the importance of visibility. It was important to talk to people, even do activism (including lecturing before doctors and nurses). I didn’t necessarily like the position I was in, but I knew that I had had so much false garbage in my head about transsexuality growing up that I went through years of needless self-inflicted pain. It felt good to shed that, once again.

The long and short of the actual response was that nothing happened at all. There were no consequences whatsoever, whether good or bad. The tweet got some few supportive replies. (Many people missed it entirely and possibly are learning about it from this post.)

One other nice consequence of all this is that it might be possible now to revive some of my past writing from about five years ago that I had to hide away. I learned a ton; no reason not to share that now.

Disclosing

I’ve dog-whistled this relatively loudly already, but just so everyone’s on the same page—I have a transsexual history. Reach out to me privately if you have questions, but I’ll cover a few points here.

  • To clarify, I’m a woman, and I consider myself transsexual. Specifically, I say I have a transsexual history. I also consider myself homosexual, attracted primarily to women. I consider intersexuality as part of my history, but I don’t claim intersex as an identity (a really complicated topic).

  • I have a complex relationship with this history, my body, and my gender, which includes a history of activism, lots of therapy, and in general, lots of feelings. Consider the delicacy this implies if engaging me on the topic.

  • It’s cliché, but if you didn’t know my history before, this changes nothing you know about me.

  • I prefer to retain whatever control possible over this information. I understand this post constitutes a public announcement, and that necessarily means I’ve sacrificed most control, but when possible, avoid assumptions about my history, my body, or my gender. Point people to me for clarification or questions.

I’m doing this now for a few reasons.

  • First of all, I trust the people around me in my life and in my work enough that I feel this disclosure won’t risk me bodily, psychologically, or financially.

  • Also, it’s pained me for a very long time to keep the amount of distance I need to dissimulate my history. It’s prevented me from explaining much about why family isn’t in my life, why I’m in Portland in the first place, or what my life has been about in the past.

  • It frees me to pursue medical interventions without having to come up with a weird cover story.

  • It gives me a voice, once again, on issues of transsexuality and gender which I used to self-censor out of fear of speaking out.

  • Finally, it reaffirms why I did this in the first place. The goal was always to look and feel more like who I’ve always been, not just to sell an identity or history to others.

On Being Brushed Aside

While writing about the warp zone hacking in my last post, I mentioned offhandedly how I lost interest in video games in the 90s. I wanted to talk a little more about that because I’ve noticed this pattern in a lot of women.

I had never considered a pattern might exist until I discovered my friend Shawna’s story matched mine very similarly. I asked around and heard similar things—girls seem to have plenty of interest in video games, and then at some age or another, while still young, the interest peters out.

It’s not a universal trait by any means, but it’s a noticeable pattern. Someone pointed me to a nice list of points of privilege that lead to becoming a geek, and my attention focused on the fifth bullet point in particular (emphasis mine):

If we were girls, no brothers. (A study in the early 90s showed that in households with both boy and girl children, a computer or video game console was likely to end up in the boy’s room, with all the usual sibling territoriality that entails. My straw poll in a women’s meetup at the Game Developer’s Conference some years back showed only about a third of the women in the room had brothers….)

Shawna and I both had younger brothers, and more especially I had older cousins I spent time with. I haven’t conducted any studies, so I can only relate my personal experiences on the subject. It seems like several things happened right around the same time which caused me to become an outsider to video games early on. From my point of view, I saw the following trends push me out as the 90s wore on and became the 2000s.

  • Game consoles became more varied, competitive, and expensive. As a member of a family having trouble making ends meet as it was, Nintendo’s waning dominance meant other consoles competed for the market, and in turn, competed for our own dollar. After the Super Nintendo, we didn’t buy a new console for perhaps a decade.
  • Games themselves introduced game play styles requiring more dedication in terms of time. As the id Software–style first-person shooter proliferated, along with fighting games with extensive “move lists” and 3D games requiring more elaborate controls, games began to demand new and more challenging skills. This led them to become less accessible to inexperienced or new players, favoring those who had time to practice and develop those specific skills. Without the same amount of practice, I could never hope to provide meaningful competition or cooperation in Goldeneye or Halo later on.
  • At the same time, games could further evolve their graphics, character development, game play mechanics (competitive versus cooperative, for example), and so on, which allowed the games to target ever more specific demographics. Violence grew to be a salient trend. Protagonists could become more distinctively male. I imagine these trends tracked closely with the type of person making this generation of game. To me, this meant it was harder to find games that held my attention, and it was hard to find people with whom to play.
  • The shift in demographic manifested itself in the result of the study mentioned above: Boys came to dominate console time. If the boy said, “You can play when my turn is over,” his turn would last far longer than yours. That fed into a feedback cycle where girls got less play time altogether, fell behind in terms of ability, lost interest in waiting, and found other things to do. This particular issue didn’t affect me quite as much, given the first point affecting me more, but I’ve heard it in multiple anecdotes from friends who were better off.

I imagine age plays a major role in what I experienced. Some girls grew up among first-person shooters and may have developed a fluency with them that I can’t imagine. “Casual games” have made something a resurgence, as making games for tablets, phones, and computers have become more accessible. So this problem might not even be a problem anymore, but I imagine it’s still left a troubling gap, and it’s definitely affected me (and probably a wider generation of disaffected women out there).

On Distinguishing Microaggressions

While for me the word “microaggression” made sense immediately, I’ve met people for whom the meaning doesn’t land right away.

The distinguishing feature of a microaggression is that it inflicts damage mainly by attrition. That renders the damage invisible, when taking any one isolated incident. It’s a siege tactic; like any offense, though, it ultimately works towards the same defeat, oppression, and hegemony as an outright attack. It’s only when taken in the aggregate that the damage reveals itself.

Most importantly, an invisible attack is hard to rebuff. You certainly feel it, but no one else knows what’s going on, maybe not even the attacker. By consequence, your defenses are lowered because any response looks like escalation, possibly alienating any sympathy and provoking further attack. This feeds into a kind of gaslighting where you’re not sure anything even happened, even as the inflicted damage remains.

That’s why I feel pretty glad the idea of microaggressions is being spread, to mitigate that cycle.