Introducing Master Jacques
Estimated reading time: a decent mug of your favourite brew.
An incongruous feat?
The curse has long been proverbial: becoming a "Jack of all trades, and master of none" conveys the notion that being sort-of-good at many things means spreading yourself thing and missing out on mastery of any sort. For centuries this may have signalled the difference between reliance on potentially oppressive institutions like the 'workhouse' or ruthless employers on the one had, and being able to make a half-decent living on the other. (Hyper-)Specialisation remains perhaps synonymous with the industrial revolution and highly competitive jobs markets. 'Find your calling' is also increasingly at odds with what really works and fledging learning institutions. The rising threshold for gaining competency prevents too many enterprising youth and those pivoting careers from landing formative, passion-building experiences. Is mastery becoming a luxury for the asset-owning elites? It depends what counts as 'mastery', including who's doing the counting.
The specialisation/generalisation debate rages on in the post-industrial era, even as comparatively affluent societies have but displaced many of the industrial activities that underpin their absolute survival to comparatively less affluent societies, in what might be a somewhat fragile economic and spiritual balance. Many still say that being a jack of all trades cannot yield a competitive or 'unfair' advantage, be it at the level of individuals or corporations. Others argue instead that being a generalist is the most future-proof skill there is. Within the 'generalism' group, some proponents may even delegate common sense to the algorithmic powers that be, acting as so-called 'humans in the loop'.
Yet others have made a singular though ordinary mark upon the earth by somehow redefining social conventions about livelihood and (life)style. For example, an illustrious community-focused individual turned out to be a paediatrician, general practitioner, parent, child and influential modern American poet -- all at once. The hall of fame includes people who pursue the most ordinary trades, or even none at all. Kudos to all the shapeshifting craftspeople that continue to defy all logic or reason, and somehow seem to square the genial circle of mastery. But as always, the story we do hear is never the complete one. Mastery by any one individual always involves dependency on countless 'others', if only clients, sponsors, spouses, teachers, pets, farmers, street sweepers, and so on. Mastery comes in many shapes, forms and underpinning intentions.
And so, welcome to the machine. Whatever you ask it, you will be right, with plentiful contradictory evidence to boot. It can pretend to do anything you like, even when it can't. Solipsist nuance can be manufactured through mathematical optical illusions à la Escher, but can it be embodied? Opposites can both be true and attract each other in real life beyond all Boolean worldview. Not to mention that art is long, and life is short. And that the machine craves electricity like moths yearn for Light. There is no real shortcut, apart from short-circuits, where grey hair is always a sign of survivorship -- both electricians and creatives have to put in the ethical work to safeguard their productive capacity.
A prime philosophical exploration of technologically enabled mastery is the aptly named 'Puppet Master' in the landmark manga and anime 'Ghost in the Shell'. Likewise with 'replicants' (more accurately identified as 'andies' in the original) who can't afford to emigrate to outer star colonies and instead have to tend to electric sheep and lost-and-found mechanical frogs. A honourable mention also to band leader 'Pris and the replicants' and her other youthful community-conscious colleagues in the 1980s OVA anime 'Bubblegum Crisis', who are keen to bust the brazenly-named 'boomers' that threaten to destroy all that remains wholesome in a dystopian, cyberpunk version of Tokyo. So mind the generational wealth gap! Perhaps a wealth tax is well overdue. Lest technological mastery should take an awfully wrong turn. Intention precedes mastery and is compounded by consistency. As they say in Swedish, "numerous rivulets do turn into rivers".
Många bäckar små gör en stor å
Or as the British supermarket chain Tesco would have it: "Every little helps!"
Beyond science fiction, masters in-the-making don't have to become puppets to a surreal world that is inherently uncontrollable, whilst still being able to hone in on their craft without harbouring excessive expectations. Be it as it may: as few or many afficionados may come to admire honest craftsmanship. A quality-assured following, however large or small, may itself shift the goal posts for at least some of the games people collectively play in the ambient self-preservation society, even if in very niche specialisms. Great mastery also does not have to be taken too seriously or adhered to perfectly, even where it excels above everything else. Learning Italian also remains optional to get the job done. From Studio Ghibli to the iPhone, quality has often been praised nearly universally, with all their obvious or hidden imperfections. The generative process is bound by the constraints of faintly approximated ideals and prosaic material considerations, and still find fruitful freedom and focus within that.
In the preliminary analysis, craftsmanship might be an inward quality, first and foremost. Inner transformation is perhaps the most world-changing wonder that the process of developing mastery can facilitate.
So mastery might still be possible, even today.
More about mastery (https://masterj.bearblog.dev/about-mastery/)
Glimpses of 'mastery'
The blog focuses on personal observations of, and curation about, honest craftsmanship, places and 'interbeing' (aka interdependence/ interconnection). Because everything has an uncanny propensity to change all the time, the treacherous beauty of impermanence will imbue the glimpses of ordinary extraordinariness that are to be shared here and beyond.
This blog is a firebird of former blog iterations that eventually ran out of digital steam. The various articles and creations will pull from, and build on, previous articles and musings that somehow remain available on the webosphere to this day. Please bear with me while all this comes into (inter)being on this eponymous platform.
Mastery will be considered broadly as stellar exemplars of both masterful execution and curation. It is assumed many of the greatest masters remain unknown to most but those within a (hyper)local sphere of mutual dependence. It is therefore assumed that there is more to the ordinary extraordinary than could ever meet the naked eye.
Varied intellectual and creative inspirations for this blog range from landmark anthropological texts (e.g. Tim Ingold's book 'Making') and jazz music to animes and trends in placemaking. These are revealed tactically to explore different perspectives as well as validate tried-and-tested paths. All roads might lead to Rome, but Rome might be called and pronounced as different things depending on where you stand and are in fact travelling to.
If not already obvious from the title of the blog, readers can expect that playful puns and surreal imagery will be privy to the recursive conversations about craftsmanship. The meandrous explorations also aim to yield many more questions than they try not to answer. Please enjoy the ride and forget about the destination for a long and short moment.
About me
As a European citizen of the world, I allegedly trained as an anthropologist, human geographer and town planner, and currently work as UX researcher in "tech". In a former professional life, I even qualified as an electrician despite lacking compelling subsequent credentials. As such, I've had plenty of opportunities to share my pseudo-expertise with people of all walks of life. I know next to nothing by virtue of being a recovering perfectionist and commonly-diagnosed "imposter".
As such, I've also endured the dark night of the soul repeatedly, on such varied occasions as pulling slippery cables on muddy construction sites, applying to local authority officer jobs in Swedish, or responding to picky peer reviewers for journal publications -- not to mention learning to tie my shoes as a child. So, while I still don't know the slightest thing about mastery, I have found that many people seem to share a genuine sense of inspiration when they witness testimonies of what appears to be real craftsmanship. Discovery, appreciation and careful curation (i.e. stealing as an artist) is always work in progress. The final proof remains in the pudding. Grandma's cakes are the best because the genuine interlocking flavours and textures are only modestly sweetened, and never sugar-coated or mass produced or flavour-enhanced. Which only heightens the importance of the special generative process, or the not-so-secret sauce, or the scaffold, that remains invisibly present once a compelling work of art or engineering is revealed to the wider world. When everyone remembers the name of the architect or master mind, the contractors' and janitors' persistent contributions are really what stand the test of time. Because in the final analysis, impermanence will eat everything (the world, software, and the rest of it) even before we know it.
About Jacques
The Francophile declination of Master 'Jack' is, in the main, an intentionally unresolved pun that reflects my cultural background (not to say 'baggage'). The play on words does not translate back into the mother tongue. Jacques is also, in lesser part, a namesake reference to a mostly-unknown relative who seems to have done his best at imbuing the world with a sense of righteous dignity and higher ground. On the very topic of human dignity, as well as individual and collective sovereignty, Jacques would thoroughly enjoy reading Kazuo Ishiguro's novel 'The Remains of the Day'. Jacques is, at heart, a butler of none. At the same time, Jacques remains deeply grateful for the masters he did his best to serve despite decidedly unfavourable circumstances. On the proudly-lit pier of recollection, Jacques may acknowledge his own parallel fate in otherwise unsuspected peers.
Like 'Everyman', Master Jacques is a universal persona who has to grapple with what it means to be truly human. A budding craftsperson's search for embodied meaning matters all the more when common sense and timeless wisdom sometimes seem to be in rather short demand and/or supply. The aim of this blog is to convey the all-too-common (albeit always indeterminate) tale of Master Jacques in a somewhat less admonishing manner than the classic 15th century Everyman play. A teaser insight might be that the figurative Jacques can derive their moral trade neither from generalisation nor specialisation, nor from both simultaneously, above and beyond what anyone else might be tempted to say about them or their craft. Jacques' mastery should just speak for itself, in whatever shape or form it takes. Jacques may also resemble Paterson (i.e. the interwoven tapestry comprising the mythical character, the poem, the film, the city (NJ) and its great waterfalls, the doctor, the ex-Marine, the residents including the twins of all ages, and the frothy dance of life and death itself) in both a pragmatic and deeply allegorical notion state.
I, like countless others, still don't know what my singular (or plural-multiple) trade(s) might be. This blog about Master Jacques therefore provides an opportunity to explore and find out more what mastery might mean in different contexts.