Many Slate readers
have expressed regret that Prudence has abandoned her advice column in favor of
her needlework. Sensitive to the continuing need for guidance among
Slate readers, however, Prudence has prevailed upon her niece and
namesake, Prudence, to assume the responsibility. In coming weeks, Prudie (as
she is known to friends) will begin to respond to some of the unanswered
e-mails that have piled up in her aunt's queue as well as to new inquiries that
readers may submit. Like her aunt, Prudie will be drawing upon her rich
experience of life in responding to questions about manners, personal
relations, politics, and other subjects. Unlike her aunt, she does not do
macroeconomics--though, in the family tradition, she does do
needlepoint.
As
before, you should send your questions for publication to [email protected]. Queries
should not exceed 200 words. Please indicate how you wish your letter to be
signed, preferably including your location.
Dear
Prudie,
Recently Bill Gates received a pie in the face from what I assume were
self-proclaimed enemies. How did Gates handle it, and what would have been the
best response?
--Wondering From
Arizona
Dear
Won,
Prudie, of course, does not
accompany Mr. Gates on trips, so she is unable to tell you his reaction. All
one could see in the news photos was a picture of him mopping up.
There is
really no gracious way to receive a pie in the face ... unless it might be to
say, "This is not quite as good as my mother used to make."
--Prudie, tastefully
Oh,
Prudie,
You quite clearly state
your unwillingness to advise on issues of macroeconomics, but one assumes you
are aware of all this "tragedy of the commons" talk that's going around about
the Web. (It's mostly loose talk about the incentives that individuals have to
use the resources of the Web, regardless of the consequences to others in terms
of slower response now and eventually even strangulation of the Web
altogether.)
If we
assume (since you don't do macro) that these prognosticators of doom are
correct, what's a body to do? If my actions won't, in the big scheme of things,
make a teeny, tiny spot of difference, and the Web as we know it is doomed
eventually whatever I do, is it moral of me to download those huge
film-and-sound files that I might someday like to see, eventually discarding
them without even opening them just to get back the local disk space? More
importantly, is it good manners? As the teeming millions flock to the Web, is
it devil take the hindmost in the scramble for resources? Or is bandwidth abuse
a real moral question? Should we be boycotting multimedia sites that make even
my fractional T3 connection choke? We need your help and advice on this issue,
before it's too late.
--Confused in
Chicago
Dear
Con,
Prudie
realizes that you are raising an issue of burning concern to many Webbies, but
she thinks it would take an economist to do it justice. Fortunately, she has
prevailed upon her Aunt Prudence--just this one time--to set aside her
needlework and help out her niece. Auntie Prudence offers the following
advice:
Since you raise the
question, you obviously feel uneasy about your frivolous use of the Web. You
would feel better, and the world would be infinitesimally better, if you
restrained yourself. But in the end the solution will have to come from
technology, policy, and economics. That is, a way will be found to charge for
the use of the Web. Someone will have a great incentive to sell speedy access,
as free access becomes slower, and find a way to do it.
An Israeli scientist has
developed an Internet monitoring program that tracks a user's actions on the
Net. The program is called Scout. Surely there will be others. If the private
sector does not devise ways to sell, and so limit, use of the Net, the
government will surely find a way to tax it.
I hope
this helps.
--Prudie, accessibly
Dear
Prudie,
Inform us, please, why
all Americans seem now to be embedded in some sort of system or process? Not a
single wise guy or wise doll in business or the media fails to note that he,
she, or the subject under discussion is part of a "process."
Raising capital is part
of a process. Just talking on the Larry King Show or the Imus thing is
part of a process. Lawyering is processing. Every process seems to be part of a
"system." Don't give us the guff that everyone is part of the food chain,
please. Has processing the American population led to a class system of the
process designers and the processed?
Thank
you.
--Wexxford 1
Dear
Wexx,
Alas,
"processing" is the word du jour , and the jour is proving to have
a fairly long shelf life. Prudie totally agrees with you in your response to
this example of tech-speak. I suspect you and I both remember the time when the
only things "processed" were cheese and applications for licenses and
passports. The only thing you can do to counteract this unwelcome addition to
the language is never to use the P word yourself.
--Prudie,
sympathetically
Dear
Prudence,
My
girlfriend and I recently returned from a holiday. I left the vacation photos
on my desk, and when I was gone, she went through them and removed the ones she
didn't like. She won't give them back, and I'm annoyed. They're my pictures,
after all. What do you think?
--Out of Film in
Seattle
Dear
Out,
Prudie
blushes to say it, but she would do the same. It may be a girl thing. Some of
us are not always photogenic, and who needs to have rotten pictures recorded
for posterity?
--Prudie,
narcissistically
Dear
Prudence,
I am
17. My parents divorced when I was 11 because of my mom's alcoholism and
clinical depression. Three years later my dad and I were really close, and my
life was getting back on track. He then found another woman and asked my
permission to marry her. Not knowing what I was getting into, I had no reason
to say no. Since then we've moved to another house, and my dad and I have grown
apart. I miss my old house so much that I dream about it. I just feel so alone,
and I'm afraid of depression. And it now feels like the guy who was once my dad
is now only a new husband.
--Misplaced in
Wis.
Dear
Mis,
Prudie is
sorry for your losses--first your mother, and then, in a different sense, your
father. You might try to discuss your loneliness with your dad, for he may be
unaware of what is transpiring. You might also ask to see a counselor. Your age
makes Prudie hope you can go away to college so that the natural progression of
growing up--and away--will help move you into your own life. Good luck to
you.
--Prudie, hopefully