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A term that I stumbled across a few years ago is “hermeneutical injustice”, a phrase that was coined in response to sexual harassment in the 70s and onwards. It refers to when people who have faced an injustice don’t have the language to be able to talk about their experiences properly, which inhibits their ability to personally process their experiences, as well as making it harder to organise against the systemic injustice they had faced. It’s effectively an extra layer of systemic injustice on top of what they have already experienced.

Linking this to something concrete, we can look at the fact that when women were first entering the workplace in the 60s and 70s, “sexual harassment” wasn’t a term that existed, and women who experienced it struggled to communicate their experiences authentically. “What do you mean you’re upset because your boss bought you flowers? He’s just being nice”.

“Sexual harassment” being coined made it possible for people (especially women) to talk about their experiences in the workplace in a manner that led to some structural change. Whilst it’s still depressingly common in the workplace, as you highlight in your comment, we have come a long way.

That to me is the really surreal part of all this — the fact that if you existed in the 70s, you’d be far less likely to even notice problematic conduct such as that seen in Mad Men

I’m fairly sure you can self host Bitwarden, so it might be possible to have backups in a similar way

I enjoyed reading this. I don’t have anything more constructive to say (I’m only leaving this comment because I realised that you are the person who actually wrote the linked post, and I’ve found that leaving an appreciative comment is like a super-upvote).

I like this piece because it’s another voice saying effectively the same thing as many others I respect have argued: that pressure to ship leads to poor quality, difficult to maintain code (even before AI), and that AI is just making the problem worse. It’s cool to see the conversation evolve. For example, after I first saw the term “cognitive debt” used, I saw it crop up in more and more places, as other writers seemed to conclude “this problem is similar to technical debt, but it’s distinct enough that using a different but related term is a good idea”. And even if there are multiple people arguing effectively the same thing, each person tends to tackle the problem slightly differently

I’ve had it happen a few times. I’ve had a surprisingly high rate of success from showing compassion to someone who has left an excessively abrasive comment. Even times when the ensuing conversation hasn’t changed someone’s mind, I’m always pretty jazzed to be able to have a civil conversation with someone.

Hell yeah

I’m 29. I’d be surprised I’m still alive.

When I was a depressed and extremely suicidal teenager, I decided that if nothing had improved for me by the time I was 20, then I’d kill myself then. When I set that time limit, I already had a couple of failed attempts under my belt (unbeknownst to my family), and desperately wanted to die. However, I felt guilty for the pain that would cause, which is why the attempts only happened when I reached a crisis point.

I had read suicide support guidance that advised to try and put distance between yourself and the suicidal feelings, because even just a day or two can help to stabilise the situation. Well my response was to take this logic and apply it to an extreme level, with significant spite attached. My logic was that if indeed things were just as hopeless when I was 20, I would feel justified in killing myself, and fuck anyone who would begrudge me my escape at that point. I didn’t require things to be better-better by the time I was 20, I just needed something to change to show that it was still worth fighting.

Well, here I am, almost 10 years later, and I’m still alive. still struggle with suicidal ideation on a regular basis, and I suspect I will always have to keep an eye on my mental health. However, nowadays, when I get low, I don’t actively want to die like I used to. Instead, it’s usually a case of “I don’t want to die, but I know I can’t live like this”.

Ironically, I think that planning my death saved my life. There were countless times over my late teens where I would’ve been at risk of making another attempt on my life, but instead would self soothe by counting down how much time I had left to ensure. It did mean that my early 20s were a bit confusing, as I was living a life that I had planned without ever expecting that I’d get that far. And I still sort of feel like these past 10 years have been a massive bonus level that I’m half expecting to be swept away from me at any moment, but I’m still here.

There are other things I could have replied to this question with, but nothing will trump my surprise at still being alive (and wanting to be)

I like our plug sockets. Whenever I travel abroad, it makes me appreciate them all the more.

I mean, I’d be more inclined to join a cult if I were working 90 hour work weeks. Sleep deprivation is one of the tactics they use, after all

This post explains it better than I could…https://hermit-tech.com/blog/ai-mania-is-eviscerating-global-decisionmaking

I like this phrase in the context of competing access needs when it comes to disabilities. Sometimes, multiple disabled people may struggle to find a solution that works for everyone, and it’s never easy. Everyone may have a right to exist in a space, but if what you need to make that happen would prevent someone else from being able to, then it sort of stops being a right in that moment, and becomes a discussion.

As someone with multiple disabilities and many disabled friends, it’s something I’ve seen quite often. Examples include:

• A person with an assistance dog and a person with a severe allergy to dogs
• One autistic person whose safe food has a strong smell that is a sensory trigger for another autistic person in the same space

I like my bench scraper so much that when I moved house recently to a temporary place with minimal kitchen space, it was one of the things in my “kitchen bare essentials”.

I mostly use it for scooping up stuff from a chopping board to transfer into bowls or a pan. It’s also really good for baking, especially if you’re working with a high hydration dough.

Mostly though, it just makes me feel good. I feel powerful when using it, even if the efficiency gains from it are probably quite minor.

A lot of it is cultural. Capitalism continues to exploit people not just because of the machinations of a few people at the top, but also because there are many people who have so deeply internalised the logic of capitalism that they are reinforce and perpetuate their own oppression.

A phrase that I’ve found really useful in understanding this is “cultural hegemony”. This theory was originally developed in the early 1900s by the Marxist philosopher, Antonio Gramsci. It’s a pretty dense bit of political theory that I don’t feel like I understand well enough to explain well, but I’ll attempt to give the gist of it

The key thing about cultural hegemony is that it makes the dominant political ideology seem like it’s natural and inevitable. We see this when people recognise the awfulness of their working or living conditions, but then shrug it off by saying “that’s just life”. They can’t imagine any alternative. I see it a lot in my daily life when people see the crafts I make and say “wow, that’s so good, you should sell those” — people are conditioned to only see value in terms of monetary value.

One of my favourite things in the entire world is what I call “high effort shitposts”. Running DOOM on absurd devices like pregnancy tests is the archetypical example I use when explaining this.

Well, congrats, because this is absurd enough that this makes the list too. You are ridiculous and delightful, and I am glad that you exist to create impressive horrors like this.

I had a similar experience once. Lightning is crazy, man

That’s a big part of why so many communities are full of bots and slop now. The bigger subreddits were already bad for that, but before I left Reddit (during the API protest), I at least was able to find quality discussions and posts in a bunch of smaller, more niche subreddits.

Lemmy doesn’t have nearly as many of those kinds of communities, so I found myself visiting Reddit a few times after the API stuff. I was disappointed to learn that many of the communities I had frequented were nothing like I remembered, and many of them had completely different mod teams. Whether it’s the mods or just the people who cared enough to frequently post and comment, a lot of the good people on Reddit left during the API fiasco. Although I enjoy Lemmy far more than I did Reddit (due to the higher concentration of meaningful conversations), it sucks to see how much has been lost at Reddit

What are you getting at? I might be misinterpreting you, but it sounds like you’re implying that it’s not depressing to be a woman in this situation (I.e if we don’t reverse the question)

When my mum was a child, when she wet the bed, she had her nose rubbed in it, like a dog.

Her step dad used to get her half siblings to restrain her arms as one of them beat her up.

When still a child herself, she was made responsible for the wellbeing of multiple of her very young siblings, necessitating her teaching her younger brother to help her shoplift food if they wanted to eat anything before their evening meal.

The thing is with my mum is that the good times were very good, and on average, she was still pretty decent — and that’s with awful things like the emotional abusive dragging down that average. As much as I still feel hurt over what she put me through, I also feel a like of sympathy for her. She tried to be better than what she had, and whilst she did succeed in that, that says as much about the extremely low bad as it does about the good she achieved as a parent.

My mum wanted kids because she was pretty heavily parentified when she was still a child herself, and was often put in the impossible situations like “I need to figure out how to feed my toddler younger brother who I am responsible for”, which led to her having to teach him help her shoplift by hiding food when he was sitting in the shopping trolley at the supermarket. She wanted the opportunity to be the parent that she wished she could’ve had.

That’s certainly a more noble goal than simply wanting to continue one’s family line, but there’s still a deep immaturity to it in hindsight. Her childhood left her pretty thoroughly fucked up, and you can’t move on from that kind of trauma just by deciding to be better. Healing requires a lot of support, time and effort. Although she did infinitely better than her parents did, her baggage ended up bringing a lot of toxicity to my teenage years, and our relationship was permanently harmed by that. Some of her most toxic traits were as a result of overcorrecting after deciding that she wanted to be nothing like her parents had been.

She got drunk and was crying about her regret about not aborting me. She came from a larger family and wanted more kids than she ended up having, but my dad’s personal limit was 2-3 kids — and kid number three was only to try for a daughter if kid number 2 ended up being another boy. Me being a girl meant that she could only have two kids, and the fact that I was pretty fucked up means that she felt like she’d “wasted” a kid on me, so to speak

I don’t blame my mum for having these thoughts, as awful as they may be. At the time, I had not long since been diagnosed with autism, and my mental health was pretty awful too, which must’ve been a lot of stress for a parent to handle. What I do blame her for is being deeply depressed and having her teenage daughter be her primary (and basically only) emotional outlet.

Whilst I am theoretically open to having a relationship with her in future, if she ever got sober (though that seems unlikely I’d learn of her being sober, as I went No Contact with her years ago), I’ll never be able to forget how much she hurt me. She wasn’t the root cause of my mental health problems, but she certainly made them a hell of a lot worse. And given that she never remembered the stuff she said when she was this drunk, I’ll never get the closure of a genuine apology.

What’s especially tragic about my mum is that she’s actually pretty well adjusted, considering the awful childhood she had. The main thing she wanted from life was to be a mum, and to do a better job than her own mum had. I do think she achieved that, and there are so many things that I feel appreciative of her for. Unfortunately, no amount of good can make up for the hurt that she caused when she’d get drunk and pile her grief onto me. Most of the time her drunken tears were far less hurtful, but it’s still a heavy burden to put on an already struggling teenager.

It’s a shame, because I think she could’ve been an incredible parent if she’d been able to get therapy in the few years after she moved out but before she fell pregnant.