Showing posts with label marry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label marry. Show all posts
Tuesday, 28 November 2023
Saturday, 3 October 2015
The Art Of Fear-Mongering
Uri Avnery in Outlook India
"WE HAVE nothing to fear but fear itself," said President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. He was wrong.
Fear is a necessary condition for human survival. Most animals in nature possess it. It helps them to respond to dangers and evade or fight them. Human beings survive because they are fearful.
Fear is both individual and collective. Since its earliest days, the human race has lived in collectives. This is both a necessary and a desired condition. Early humans lived in tribes. The tribe defended their territory against all “strangers" — neighboring tribes — in order to safeguard their food supply and security. Fear was one of the uniting factors.
Belonging to one's tribe (which after many evolutions became a modern nation) is also a profound psychological need. It, too, is connected with fear — fear of other tribes, fear of other nations.
But fear can grow and become a monster.
RECENTLY I received a very interesting article by a young scientist, Yoav Litvin [*], dealing with this phenomenon.
It described, in scientific terms, how easily fear can be manipulated. The science involved was the research of the human brain, based on experiments with laboratory animals like mice and rats.
Nothing is easier than to create fear. For example, mice were given an electric shock while exposed to rock music. After some time, the mice showed reactions of extreme fear when the rock music was played, even without being given a shock. The music alone produced fear.
This could be reversed. For a long time, the music was played for them without the pain. Slowly, very slowly, the fear abated. But not completely: when, after a long time, a shock was again delivered with the music, the full symptoms of fear re-appeared immediately. Once was enough.
APPLY THIS to human nations, and the results are the same.
The Jews are a perfect laboratory specimen. Centuries of persecution in Europe taught them the value of fear. Smelling danger from afar, they learned to save themselves in time — generally by flight.
In Europe, the Jews were an exception, inviting victimizing. In the Byzantine (East Roman) Empire, Jews were normal. All over the empire, territorial peoples turned into ethnic-religious communities. A Jew in Alexandria could marry a Jewess in Antioch, but not the girl next door, if she happened to be an Orthodox Christian.
This "millet" system endured all through the Islamic Ottoman Empire, the British Mandate and still lives happily in today's State of Israel. An Israeli Jew cannot legally marry an Israeli Christian or Muslim in Israel.
This was the reason for the absence of anti-Semitism in the Arab world, apart from the detail that the Arabs are Semites themselves. Jews and Christians, the "peoples of the book", have a special status in an Islamic state (like Iran today), in some ways second-class, in some ways privileged (they do not have to serve in the army). Until the advent of Zionism, Arab Jews were no more fearful than most other human beings.
The situation in Europe was quite different. Christianity, which split off from Judaism, harbored a deep resentment towards the Jews from the start. The New Testament contains profoundly anti-Jewish descriptions of Jesus' death, which every Christian child learns at an impressionable age. And the fact that the Jews in Europe were the only people (apart from the gypsies) who had no homeland made them all the more suspicious and fear-inspiring.
The continued suffering of the Jews in Europe implanted a continuous and deep-seated fear in every European Jew. Every Jew was on continuous alert, consciously, unconsciously or subconsciously, even in times and countries which seemed far from any danger — like the Germany of my parents' youth.
My father was a prime example of this syndrome. He grew up in a family that had lived in Germany for generations. (My father, who had studied Latin, always insisted that our family had come to Germany with Julius Caesar.) But when the Nazis came to power, it took my father just a few days to decide to flee, and a few months later my family arrived happily in Palestine.
ON A personal note: my own experience with fear was also interesting. For me, at least.
When the Hebrew-Arab war of 1948 broke out, I naturally enlisted for combat duty. Before my first battle I was — literally — convulsed by fear. During the engagement, which happily was a light one, the fear left me, never to return. Just so. Disappeared.
In the following 50 or so engagements, including half a dozen major battles, I felt no fear.
I was very proud of this, but it was a stupid thing. Near the end of the war, when I was already a squad leader, I was ordered to take over a position which was exposed to enemy fire. I went to inspect it, walking almost upright in broad daylight, and was at once hit by an Egyptian armor-piercing bullet. Four of my soldiers, volunteers from Morocco, bravely got me out under fire. I arrived at the field hospital just in time to save my life.
Even this did not restore to me my lost fear. I still don't feel it, though I am aware that this is exceedingly stupid.
BACK TO my people.
The new Hebrew community in Palestine, founded by refugees from the pogroms of Moldavia, Poland, Ukraine and Russia, and later reinforced by the remnants of the Holocaust, lived in fear of their Arab neighbors, who revolted from time to time against the immigration.
The new community, called the Yishuv, took great pride in the heroism of its youth, which was quite able to defend itself, its towns and its villages. A whole cult grew up around the new Sabra ("cactus plant"), the fearless, heroic young Hebrew born in the country. When in the war of 1948, after prolonged and bitter fighting (we lost 6500 young men out of a community of 650,000 people) we eventually won, collective rational fear was replaced by irrational pride.
Here we were, a new nation on new soil, strong and self-reliant. We could afford to be fearless. But we were not.
Fearless people can make peace, reach a compromise with yesterday's enemy, reach out for co-existence and even friendship. This happened — more or less — in Europe after many centuries of continuous wars.
Not here. Fear of the "Arab World" was a permanent fixture in our national life, the picture of "little Israel surrounded by enemies" both an inner conviction and a propaganda ploy. War followed war, and each one produced new waves of anxiety.
This mixture of overweening pride and profound fears, a conqueror's mentality and permanent Angst, is a hallmark of today's Israel. Foreigners often suspect that this is make-believe, but it is quite real.
FEAR IS also the instrument of rulers. Create Fear and Rule. This has been a maxim of kings and dictators for ages.
In Israel, this is the easiest thing in the world. One has just to mention the Holocaust (or Shoah in Hebrew) and fear oozes from every pore of the national body.
Stoking Holocaust memories is a national industry. Children are sent to visit Auschwitz, their first trip abroad. The last Minister of Education decreed the introduction of Holocaust studies in kindergarten (seriously). There is a Holocaust Day — in addition to many other Jewish holidays, most of which commemorate some past conspiracy to kill the Jews.
The historical picture created in the mind of every Jewish child, in Israel as well as abroad, is, in the words of the Passover prayer read aloud every year in every Jewish family: "In every generation they arise against us to annihilate us, but God saves us from their hands!"
PEOPLE WONDER what is the special quality that enables Binyamin Netanyahu to be elected again and again, and rule practically alone, surrounded by a flock of noisy nobodies.
The person who knew him best, his own father, once declared that "Bibi" could be a good Foreign Minister, but on no account a Prime Minister. True, Netanyahu has a good voice and a real talent for television, but that is all. He is shallow, he has no world vision and no real vision for Israel, his historical knowledge is negligible.
But he has one real talent: fear-mongering. In this he has no equal.
There is hardly any major speech by Netanyahu, in Israel or abroad, without at least one mention of the Holocaust. After that, there comes the latest up-to-date fear-provoking image.
Once it was "international terrorism". The young Netanyahu wrote a book about it and established himself as an expert. In reality, this is nonsense. There is no such thing as international terrorism. It has been invented by charlatans, who build a career on it. Professors and such.
What is terrorism? Killing civilians? If so, the most hideous acts of terrorism in recent history were Dresden and Hiroshima. Killing civilians by non-state fighters? Take your pick. As I have said many times: "freedom fighters" are on my side, "terrorists" are on the other side.
Palestinians, and Arabs in general, are, of course, terrorists. They hate us for taking part of their land away. Obviously, you cannot make peace with perverse people like that. You can only fear and fight them.
When the field of terrorist-fighters became too crowded, Netanyahu switched to the Iranian bomb. There it was — the actual threat to our very existence. The Second Holocaust.
To my mind, this has always been ridiculous. The Iranians will not have a bomb, and if they did — they would not use it, because their own national annihilation would be guaranteed.
But take the Iranian bomb from Netanyahu, and what remains? No wonder he fought tooth and nail to keep it. But now it has been finally pushed away. What to do?
Don't worry. Bibi will find another threat, more blood-curdling than any before.
Just wait and tremble.
"WE HAVE nothing to fear but fear itself," said President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. He was wrong.
Fear is a necessary condition for human survival. Most animals in nature possess it. It helps them to respond to dangers and evade or fight them. Human beings survive because they are fearful.
Fear is both individual and collective. Since its earliest days, the human race has lived in collectives. This is both a necessary and a desired condition. Early humans lived in tribes. The tribe defended their territory against all “strangers" — neighboring tribes — in order to safeguard their food supply and security. Fear was one of the uniting factors.
Belonging to one's tribe (which after many evolutions became a modern nation) is also a profound psychological need. It, too, is connected with fear — fear of other tribes, fear of other nations.
But fear can grow and become a monster.
RECENTLY I received a very interesting article by a young scientist, Yoav Litvin [*], dealing with this phenomenon.
It described, in scientific terms, how easily fear can be manipulated. The science involved was the research of the human brain, based on experiments with laboratory animals like mice and rats.
Nothing is easier than to create fear. For example, mice were given an electric shock while exposed to rock music. After some time, the mice showed reactions of extreme fear when the rock music was played, even without being given a shock. The music alone produced fear.
This could be reversed. For a long time, the music was played for them without the pain. Slowly, very slowly, the fear abated. But not completely: when, after a long time, a shock was again delivered with the music, the full symptoms of fear re-appeared immediately. Once was enough.
APPLY THIS to human nations, and the results are the same.
The Jews are a perfect laboratory specimen. Centuries of persecution in Europe taught them the value of fear. Smelling danger from afar, they learned to save themselves in time — generally by flight.
In Europe, the Jews were an exception, inviting victimizing. In the Byzantine (East Roman) Empire, Jews were normal. All over the empire, territorial peoples turned into ethnic-religious communities. A Jew in Alexandria could marry a Jewess in Antioch, but not the girl next door, if she happened to be an Orthodox Christian.
This "millet" system endured all through the Islamic Ottoman Empire, the British Mandate and still lives happily in today's State of Israel. An Israeli Jew cannot legally marry an Israeli Christian or Muslim in Israel.
This was the reason for the absence of anti-Semitism in the Arab world, apart from the detail that the Arabs are Semites themselves. Jews and Christians, the "peoples of the book", have a special status in an Islamic state (like Iran today), in some ways second-class, in some ways privileged (they do not have to serve in the army). Until the advent of Zionism, Arab Jews were no more fearful than most other human beings.
The situation in Europe was quite different. Christianity, which split off from Judaism, harbored a deep resentment towards the Jews from the start. The New Testament contains profoundly anti-Jewish descriptions of Jesus' death, which every Christian child learns at an impressionable age. And the fact that the Jews in Europe were the only people (apart from the gypsies) who had no homeland made them all the more suspicious and fear-inspiring.
The continued suffering of the Jews in Europe implanted a continuous and deep-seated fear in every European Jew. Every Jew was on continuous alert, consciously, unconsciously or subconsciously, even in times and countries which seemed far from any danger — like the Germany of my parents' youth.
My father was a prime example of this syndrome. He grew up in a family that had lived in Germany for generations. (My father, who had studied Latin, always insisted that our family had come to Germany with Julius Caesar.) But when the Nazis came to power, it took my father just a few days to decide to flee, and a few months later my family arrived happily in Palestine.
ON A personal note: my own experience with fear was also interesting. For me, at least.
When the Hebrew-Arab war of 1948 broke out, I naturally enlisted for combat duty. Before my first battle I was — literally — convulsed by fear. During the engagement, which happily was a light one, the fear left me, never to return. Just so. Disappeared.
In the following 50 or so engagements, including half a dozen major battles, I felt no fear.
I was very proud of this, but it was a stupid thing. Near the end of the war, when I was already a squad leader, I was ordered to take over a position which was exposed to enemy fire. I went to inspect it, walking almost upright in broad daylight, and was at once hit by an Egyptian armor-piercing bullet. Four of my soldiers, volunteers from Morocco, bravely got me out under fire. I arrived at the field hospital just in time to save my life.
Even this did not restore to me my lost fear. I still don't feel it, though I am aware that this is exceedingly stupid.
BACK TO my people.
The new Hebrew community in Palestine, founded by refugees from the pogroms of Moldavia, Poland, Ukraine and Russia, and later reinforced by the remnants of the Holocaust, lived in fear of their Arab neighbors, who revolted from time to time against the immigration.
The new community, called the Yishuv, took great pride in the heroism of its youth, which was quite able to defend itself, its towns and its villages. A whole cult grew up around the new Sabra ("cactus plant"), the fearless, heroic young Hebrew born in the country. When in the war of 1948, after prolonged and bitter fighting (we lost 6500 young men out of a community of 650,000 people) we eventually won, collective rational fear was replaced by irrational pride.
Here we were, a new nation on new soil, strong and self-reliant. We could afford to be fearless. But we were not.
Fearless people can make peace, reach a compromise with yesterday's enemy, reach out for co-existence and even friendship. This happened — more or less — in Europe after many centuries of continuous wars.
Not here. Fear of the "Arab World" was a permanent fixture in our national life, the picture of "little Israel surrounded by enemies" both an inner conviction and a propaganda ploy. War followed war, and each one produced new waves of anxiety.
This mixture of overweening pride and profound fears, a conqueror's mentality and permanent Angst, is a hallmark of today's Israel. Foreigners often suspect that this is make-believe, but it is quite real.
FEAR IS also the instrument of rulers. Create Fear and Rule. This has been a maxim of kings and dictators for ages.
In Israel, this is the easiest thing in the world. One has just to mention the Holocaust (or Shoah in Hebrew) and fear oozes from every pore of the national body.
Stoking Holocaust memories is a national industry. Children are sent to visit Auschwitz, their first trip abroad. The last Minister of Education decreed the introduction of Holocaust studies in kindergarten (seriously). There is a Holocaust Day — in addition to many other Jewish holidays, most of which commemorate some past conspiracy to kill the Jews.
The historical picture created in the mind of every Jewish child, in Israel as well as abroad, is, in the words of the Passover prayer read aloud every year in every Jewish family: "In every generation they arise against us to annihilate us, but God saves us from their hands!"
PEOPLE WONDER what is the special quality that enables Binyamin Netanyahu to be elected again and again, and rule practically alone, surrounded by a flock of noisy nobodies.
The person who knew him best, his own father, once declared that "Bibi" could be a good Foreign Minister, but on no account a Prime Minister. True, Netanyahu has a good voice and a real talent for television, but that is all. He is shallow, he has no world vision and no real vision for Israel, his historical knowledge is negligible.
But he has one real talent: fear-mongering. In this he has no equal.
There is hardly any major speech by Netanyahu, in Israel or abroad, without at least one mention of the Holocaust. After that, there comes the latest up-to-date fear-provoking image.
Once it was "international terrorism". The young Netanyahu wrote a book about it and established himself as an expert. In reality, this is nonsense. There is no such thing as international terrorism. It has been invented by charlatans, who build a career on it. Professors and such.
What is terrorism? Killing civilians? If so, the most hideous acts of terrorism in recent history were Dresden and Hiroshima. Killing civilians by non-state fighters? Take your pick. As I have said many times: "freedom fighters" are on my side, "terrorists" are on the other side.
Palestinians, and Arabs in general, are, of course, terrorists. They hate us for taking part of their land away. Obviously, you cannot make peace with perverse people like that. You can only fear and fight them.
When the field of terrorist-fighters became too crowded, Netanyahu switched to the Iranian bomb. There it was — the actual threat to our very existence. The Second Holocaust.
To my mind, this has always been ridiculous. The Iranians will not have a bomb, and if they did — they would not use it, because their own national annihilation would be guaranteed.
But take the Iranian bomb from Netanyahu, and what remains? No wonder he fought tooth and nail to keep it. But now it has been finally pushed away. What to do?
Don't worry. Bibi will find another threat, more blood-curdling than any before.
Just wait and tremble.
Wednesday, 2 September 2015
Want to be happy? Be grateful
David Steindl-Rast
The person you really need to marry:
Tracy Mcmillan
How to know the purpose of your life in five minutes
Adam Leipzig
The person you really need to marry:
How to know the purpose of your life in five minutes
Friday, 2 November 2012
A New 'Real World’ Maths Course
Two problems:
1. You are in an airport and are walking from the main departure lounge to a rather distant gate. On the way there are several moving walkways. There is a small stone in your shoe, which is annoying enough that you decide that you must remove it. If you want to get to the gate as quickly as possible, and if there is no danger of your annoying other passengers, is it better to remove the stone while on a moving walkway or while on stationary ground, or does it make no difference?
2. You want to give £1,000 to somebody as a 21st birthday present. The person in question is just about to turn 16. A savings scheme offers a guaranteed interest rate of 3 per cent for the next five years, provided you save the same amount at the beginning of each year. What should this amount be so that you end up with £1,000?
And which of those two questions did you find more engaging? If you are like almost everybody, you will already be thinking about the first, but the second will make your heart sink.
Recently, the government has expressed a wish that all schoolchildren should study mathematics up to the age of 18, a view that appears to have cross-party support. As a mathematician, I am a firm believer in the benefits, both direct and indirect, that mathematical understanding can bring. However, I am also aware that many intelligent people thoroughly dislike mathematics, give it up at the age of 16, and have absolutely no regrets afterwards. Will two further years of mathematics really make a difference to such people, other than turning them off the subject even more?
One method that is sometimes proposed for making subjects more appealing is to make them ‘relevant’. In mathematics, this supposed relevance often takes the dismal form of ‘word problems’ such as this: two apples and three pears cost £1.80, while four apples and one pear cost £1.60. What do apples and pears cost each? To solve such a problem, the technique is to turn the words into equations and solve the equations. Here one might begin by saying, ‘Let A be the number of apples and P be the number of pears. Then 2A+3P=180 and 4A+P=160.’ Then, using standard techniques, one shows that A=30 and P=40, so apples are 30p each and pears 40p each.
But problems like that don’t feel relevant at all. This problem may pretend to be about a trip to the greengrocer’s, but we all know that it is really just a flimsy disguise for some equations. We also know that a question of this form would neverarise at the greengrocer’s: if you want to know the price of apples, you look at the little sign that tells you the price of apples.
What is it that gives the stone-in-shoe question its appeal? Part of the answer is that one can imagine being in the situation described, or at least one can imagine thatsomebody might be in that situation. But that cannot be the whole story, because one can also imagine needing to know how much money to put away into a savings scheme in order to end up with a certain amount, and yet that question has no appeal at all. Another difference between the two questions is, I believe, more important: whereas the second question asks for a number, the first asks for a piece of advice. Many people, when asked to do a numerical calculation, switch off immediately, but almost nobody switches off when asked for advice: the natural reaction is to put oneself in the position of the person seeking the advice and to try to work out the best thing to do. The stone-in-shoe question exploits this instinct, at least initially, and it can then be answered without any calculations. (Just imagine how much less appealing the question would become if you were told the speed at which you walked and the speed of the moving walkways. Fortunately, you don’t need to know these.)
One might think that if calculation and solving equations were absent from a mathematics course, then there would be nothing left to teach. But that is quite wrong: there are plenty of things one could teach, many of them entertaining, important and useful in later life. Here are some examples.
We often need to make decisions based on incomplete data. Exact calculation is usually not possible in such situations, so it is very useful to be good at making rough estimates. For instance, will the benefits of building a high-speed rail line to Birmingham outweigh the costs? Even to begin to think about this question, one should have a rough idea of the number of journeys that would be made on the line each day. A useful trick for getting the right order of magnitude for quantities like this is to break the problem up into smaller parts. In this case we could estimate the number of hours per day that trains run on the line, the number of trains per hour, the number of carriages per train, the number of rows of seats per carriage, the number of seats per row and the proportion of seats that would typically be occupied. We would then need to multiply these numbers together. My own guesses, which I have made simple round numbers so that the multiplication will be easy, are 15, 4, 10, 20, 5 and 1. Multiplying those -together I get 60,000. Perhaps you would like to object to my assumption that the proportion of seats occupied is equal to 1. Of course I don’t actually believe that all seats would be occupied, but I think that most of them probably would be, and at this level of -accuracy rounding up a number like 0.8 to 1 is perfectly acceptable.
Another skill of genuine use is that of getting to the heart of a question by abstracting away irrelevant details. Consider the following dilemma faced by Alice, who has just been proposed to by her boyfriend Bob. Alice is very fond of Bob, who is a better match than any of her previous boyfriends, but she worries that whatever she does, she may end up with regrets. If she accepts his proposal, she risks going on to meet somebody she would much prefer to be married to, but if she refuses him, she risks never again meeting anybody as suitable.
Let us imagine that Alice is determined to be married by the age of 36, and that by that age she would expect to have had serious relationships with eight people, of whom Bob is the third, say. Then we can model Alice’s situation as follows. She is presented with a sequence of eight random numbers, one by one. At any time, she can say ‘stop’ and the number that has just been presented to her is the one that she must accept. What strategy will give her the best chance of accepting the largest number?
‘There’s the house. This must be the folly.’
This purely mathematical problem encapsulates Alice’s difficulty and has a known solution. Given the numbers above, it can be shown that Alice’s best chance of avoiding later regrets is to turn down Bob and then go for the first person she meets who is better than Bob. However, the validity of this advice depends on a number of questionable assumptions — not least of which is that the ‘irrelevant details’ that were abstracted away really were irrelevant — so this question is a good example both of the power of mathematics and of its limitations.
A third skill that is extremely useful is the ability to evaluate statistics, since we are continually bombarded with statistical arguments of widely varying degrees of soundness. For example, studies have shown that British vegetarians have, on average, higher IQs than the general population. Does this show that meat is bad for your brain? What other explanations might there be for an observation like this? How informative is an average anyway? Given some numerical data, what else can one usefully calculate from it besides the average? How large a random sample is needed if you want to be convinced that an observation is probably more than just a typical random fluctuation? One can get a feel for this kind of question without ever calculating an average or a standard deviation.
How should this kind of mathematics be taught? I strongly believe in two guiding principles. The first is to start with the real-world questions rather than with the mathematics. That is, rather than explaining mathematical ideas (about statistics, say) and then discussing how they can be applied to the real world, a teacher should instead start with a question that is interesting for non-mathematical reasons and keep a completely open mind about what mathematics has to contribute to the discussion.
The second is to make the discussion as Socratic as possible. Rather than asking the question and then explaining the answer, the teacher should just ask the question and leave the job of answering it to the pupils. The teacher’s role would be to guide the discussion, encouraging it when it moves in fruitful directions and making gentle interventions such as ‘Does everybody agree with that?’ when somebody says something wrong and is not corrected. This would be the opposite of the kind of spoonfeeding that goes on with GCSE and A-level.
Imagine if a teacher came into the classroom and said, ‘I’ve just read in the news that they are considering culling 70 per cent of badgers in certain areas of the country to halt the spread of TB in cattle. How on earth do they work out how many badgers there are in the first place? And how will they be able to tell whether the culling has worked?’ And imagine if the teacher admitted without any embarrassment to not knowing the answers. The aim would be to prompt a discussion in which the pupils were treated like adults and encouraged to think. The discussion would have many features that occur in real life: it would be open-ended, it would involve quantities that are hard to measure, it would be about estimates rather than exact calculations, and it would be responding to a non-mathematical need.
Can this possibly work? In February I was at a meeting about mathematics education at which Michael Gove was present, and at which I advocated this kind of course. The idea interested various people at the meeting, so in June I wrote a blog post about it, for which I compiled a list of over 50 questions that I thought could be the basis of interesting classroom discussions. One of those interested, Sir John Holman, arranged for me to visit Watford Grammar School for Boys, where I was given two hours with a class of about 25 sixth-formers, some from that school, some from the equivalent girls’ school, and some from a nearby comprehensive. Some were doing maths A-level and some were not. I discussed about half a dozen questions with them in the way I have been suggesting, and that left me convinced that it can be done.
Another person who was interested was Charlie Stripp, the chief executive of Mathematics in Education and Industry, an independent curriculum development body. He got in touch with me and said that MEI wanted to try to develop a course along these lines. Very recently, the government has agreed to provide the necessary funding, not just for developing the course, but for working out how best to assess it and for organising appropriate training for teachers, both of which will be essential, given how different this course will be from a traditional mathematics course. There is no guarantee that the course will be taken up by schools, and even if it is, it will not be suitable for everybody. But there is nothing to lose by making a course of this type available, and it is an experiment that is surely worth trying.
Some further questions for interested readers. The best answers will be published in next week’s letters page (letters@spectator.co.uk).
1. Roughly how often would you expect somebody in the UK to dream of the death of a loved one and that loved one to die the very next day?
2. You play a game in which when it is your turn, you can either add a point to your score and remove two points from your opponent’s score, or stop the game. You start with five points, and when someone stops the game you get £10 for every point you then have. Your opponent, whom you dislike, starts, choosing to add a point to his/her score and remove two points from yours. What should you do?
3. A divorcing couple are dividing up their possessions. The husband and wife agree about the financial values of these possessions but attach different sentimental values. Devise a good procedure for carrying out the division.
4. Roughly how many people could fit into the Isle of Wight?
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