Loving the craft while hating the craftsman: Teslas and Elon Musk

By VIOLET ZANZOT— vmzanzotl@ucdavis.edu

If you need a surgery — a surgery so rare and specific that you feel cosmically unlucky to need it — I’m sure that finding the perfect surgeon would be a priority. 

When searching for this surgeon, wouldn’t you be likely to consider their morals and ideals? If their morals very specifically contradicted your own, which do you sacrifice: the surgery from the best doctor or the insistence on upholding your strongest conviction? 

The separation of surgeon and surgery, art and artist, craft and craftsmen is a quandary that broadly peaks my interest. Using the controversy around Elon Musk and his company, Tesla, as an example, it becomes clear exactly how nuanced the question really is. 

Let me paint you a picture. It’s 2023, Biden’s Inflation Reduction Act passed almost a year ago, you just got a bonus at work and you are in the market for a new car. With their popularity exploding in your San Francisco suburb and their stock prices clearly rising — not to mention the tax credit advantages — a Tesla seems to be the most enticing option. 

Now, flash forward two years: a new man is in office and the air feels heavier. As you drive to the job you feel lucky to still have, you reflect on the recent madness. You find yourself stuck thinking about the guy whose company made the car you proudly bought. He has been such a central character in the media cycle for almost two years —- his notoriety makes you angry. 

You get home from work that day and the only thing you can think to do is buy a bumper sticker that reads: “I bought this before Elon went crazy.” You feel you have done your part; You love the craft, but you hate the craftsman.

Teslas are juxtapositions on wheels. They demonstrate why conflating the art and the artist is a one-dimensional way to look at a three-dimensional problem.

Think about the product itself: it’s a tech forward, eco-friendly and expensive automobile. With that in mind, the target audience should be future-focused, wealthier people who care about protecting the environment. And yet, Elon Musk’s political involvement with Trump seems to attract the opposite demographic. He is marketing himself to an entirely different audience than his company’s product might naturally attract. Part of the complication in separating the art from the artist is that they may have different intended audiences. Musk and Teslas are designed for different shoppers, but sold in the same store.

This discrepancy that arises between the creator and their product leads to another predicament. Generally, the product is largely intended to be a positive addition to society. Many people purchase Teslas because they want reliable cars that are less harmful to the environment. So, if the product is beneficial, does it matter who created it?

To add in another layer, I beg the question of how important a product’s creator should be to the consumer. Or, is it more important to focus on their expertise? If a person is very good at baking and that is where their knowledge lies, must we take their opinions on something like film seriously, or should we just accept the fact that they are speaking not as an expert, but as an interested novice? 

The answer to that question may lead directly into the other dilemma: cancel culture. Our society is quick to judge creators — we dismiss someone’s products all together if we find out they committed a moral injustice that is unrelated to what they sell. Often, we decide how related a person’s actions are to their product based on the extent to which their actions bothered us. Would it be better to find the separation between someone’s personal and business endeavors before we discount them on account of a sensational story?

At the end of the day, the question of whether or not we should separate the art and the artists (or craftsmen and their craft) is not as simple as individual preference. The product and the producer are not always the same — we may love the product and it might benefit the world. Teslas are driving oxymorons and demonstrate how hard it is to be a consumer of both products and people in the modern world.

Written by: Violet Zanzot— vmzanzot@ucdavis.edu

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed by individual columnists belong to the columnists alone and do not necessarily indicate the views and opinions held by The California Aggie.

Lessons from Miss Americana herself 

By MOLLY THOMPSON – mmtthompson@ucdavis.edu 

It’s been a great summer to be a ‘Swiftie’; As the TikTok videos flooding my feed proclaim, “Mother has been feeding us.” 

On Aug. 11, Taylor Swift announced her 12th studio album and cover reveal, “The Life of a Showgirl.” On Aug. 13, she guest-starred on a two-hour podcast episode with her NFL superstar boyfriend Travis Kelce and his brother Jason. And, on Aug. 28, Swift announced her engagement to Kelce, which included a photo of the $5 million rock she now has on her finger — so much for “paper rings.” All this is to say, she has been very present in the societal landscape recently. 

While she’s in the spotlight arguably more than ever before, I (as a self-proclaimed Swiftie of at least a decade) wanted to take the opportunity to highlight what I think are some of the most valuable lessons we can all learn from our favorite blonde pop princess — Miss Swift herself. 

Swift is infamous for her “long list of ex-lovers.” As featured in her autobiographical Netflix documentary, “Miss Americana,” she received a lot of flack earlier in her career for being a serial dater and focusing too much of her discography on her many tumultuous relationships. Long story short, she’s been through the dating wringer. 

Although it’s true that the average marriage age of younger generations is rising, it’s undeniable that a lot of societal pressure is put on marrying and starting a family by a certain age milestone. Swift is currently 35 years old and will turn 36 in December. She didn’t meet the man she’s going to marry until she was 33. While this is not “old” by any means, what I hope our generation can learn is that it’s okay if you don’t find the love of your life in your 20s. 

If Swift, one of the most beloved and renowned people of our generation, didn’t find “the one” until her mid-30s, then we, as college students in our late teens and early 20s, should try to let go of our fears of falling behind or missing out. If you rush things or settle into a relationship that simply isn’t serving you, you could very well miss out on your “So High School” moment. It took Swift years of heartbreak and turmoil, but it was all worth it in the end. So, take a deep breath, trust your gut and trust the process. If “Miss Misery” can find her Prince Charming, then so can you. 

Along a similar vein, Swift’s highly autobiographical discography can teach us that just because things don’t always work out the way we expect them to, it doesn’t mean that life is worse for it. For example, Swift dated British actor Joe Alwyn for six years and seemed to expect to be with him for the rest of her life. While all theories regarding who she writes her songs about are alleged, she wrote songs during her relationship with Alwyn including “Lover” (“can we always be this close / forever and ever”), “Paper Rings” (“I like shiny things but I’d marry you with paper rings”) and many more that alluded to marriage or “forever” in one way or another. 

Later on however, she ended up writing songs about the same man and the same relationship that depict a devastating and heartbreaking end, such as “You’re Losing Me” (“how long could we be a sad song ‘til we were too far gone to bring back to life?”), “So Long, London” (“I’m just mad as hell ‘cause I loved this place for so long, London / had a good run / a moment of warm sun / but I’m not the one”) and others with similarly bereft sentiments. 

She’s an incredible storyteller, and it’s tangible in her songs just how ruinous her breakup with Alwyn felt. I mean, the end of a six-year, formative relationship with someone you were (at one point) counting on marrying is inevitably a life-shattering experience. I would bet money on the fact that, in the depths of the breakup, she genuinely believed that she might never recover or find a better man. 

But not too long after, Kelce walked into her life with a friendship bracelet and a dream (we can just go ahead and ignore the existence of Matty Healy). I can almost guarantee that she prefers this outcome — her new fiancé — over what she thought her life with Alwyn was going to look like. My point is, we can plan all we want, and yet sometimes life takes unexpected turns. But they won’t always be turns for the worse; In fact, it’s likely that whatever unexpected twists come your way will eventually be blessings in disguise. 

All of this is to say, you’re going to be okay. Even if you haven’t met your soulmate by the age of 22 (although congratulations to those of you who have), it’ll be okay. Even if the plans that you counted on become foiled, it’ll be okay. It’ll probably be better in the end. Trust that you’ll find your place in this world; You still have so much time ahead of you. 

Written by: Molly Thompson — mmtthompson@ucdavis.edu 

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed by individual columnists belong to the columnists alone and do not necessarily indicate the views and opinions held by The California Aggie

Seeing red, feeling blue and tickled pink

By MOLLY THOMPSON – mmtthompson@ucdavis.edu 

When I was in first grade, one of my most beloved elementary school teachers would call me “rainbow girl” because of my constant propensity to dress myself in an array of vibrant neons and cheerful pastels. I would enthusiastically accompany my dad on his trips to Home Depot just so I could stare at the wall of paint chips (and squirrel the prettiest ones away to keep on my bookshelf at home). My bedroom, my wardrobe and even the contents of my desk drawers have always been full of a spectrum of saturated hues, and to this day, you’d be hard-pressed to find black in my closet. Needless to say, I love colors. ​​

My fervent adoration of anything colorful led to a similar fascination with color psychology — the science behind how colors affect us. While certain people tend to gravitate towards certain colors more than others, there’s a relatively small group of colors that we all tend to prefer. For example, light, bright or muted shades of blue, purple, green and pink are generally favored over hues like brown, orange, yellow or in-between shades mixed with green. 

This is likely due to our intrinsic biological adaptations. We like colors that represent positive things (clear skies, green foliage, clean water, ripe fruits) and we’re repulsed by colors that represent negative things (rotten foods, feces, illness, decay). So as a species, we’re naturally much more drawn to brighter or lighter colors than darker or muddier colors. 

Similarly, we also like colors that we’ve personally associated with positive things. You might like red because you grew up loving Spiderman or Lightning McQueen, or you might prefer baby blue because that was the color of your favorite childhood stuffed animal. 

While our perception of colors and what they mean is contextual and dependent on many external factors, every color also affects us in its own way. Red, which is bright and eye-catching, can elicit feelings of passion and excitement, energy, danger and urgency. Red has also been known to bring out hunger, which might be linked to the fact that red is a common naturally occurring color in food. 

Yellow is known to be optimistic. While it’s also attention-grabbing, it’s generally warmer and more inviting than red. Yellow has also been shown to enhance feelings of hunger, which is why red and yellow are some of the most common colors in grocery packaging and restaurant branding. Most fast food chains use red or yellow as their most prominent colors — think about McDonald’s, In-N-Out, Burger King or Jack in the Box. These companies use colors like red and yellow intentionally to subconsciously nudge their customers towards purchasing more food. Colors like green and brown are used much less frequently in food marketing because they have the opposite effect and tend to make people feel less hungry or less ready to eat. 

But green still often evokes positive emotions like tranquility, peace and renewal. Likely because we associate green so closely with nature, certain shades tend to make us feel safe, rejuvenated and calm. That’s why so many wellness brands use green as their primary colors; green feels balanced, relaxing and generally good for you. Green is also sometimes associated with jealousy, envy or greed, but that can be attributed more to artificial cultural ties than an inherent emotional connection. 

Purple often feels mysterious or spiritual, likely because it mimics the depth of the night skies or dusky sunsets, which also feel mystical. Purple is also often associated with luxury or creativity, which is another artificial connection we’ve made as a society. Purple dyes have historically been more rare and expensive than other colors, so only the highest-class citizens (usually royalty) could afford to wear or own purple things. That association has persevered throughout centuries, and purple still feels more luxurious than many other colors. 

Black and white both have a lot of cultural connotations that vary across the globe, but black is intrinsically mysterious and depressing. We tend to think of black as negative because darkness and shadows are so unknown. Anything could be lurking in a black swath of an unlit forest glen or a room with the lights off, and that’s scary. White is the opposite; it’s clean, pure and open. White is safe because it’s bright, it feels safer and more positive than black does. 

Blue is the most commonly-loved color in the world, with 42% of people claiming it as their personal favorite. Blue is calming, relaxing and cool. It’s the color of the clear sky and the ocean, so it’s familiar and safe. It’s sometimes associated with sadness or depression, but that also tends to be a cultural connection rather than a natural one. Gray carries some similar connotations but is more naturally justified because it reflects storms and dreary weather. Blue also often elicits feelings of trust, clarity and serenity, which is why so many financial companies use it in their logos — they want you to trust them with your money. 

Colors are powerful. If used strategically, they can have a significant effect on how people feel and act. Department stores, dining establishments, financial institutions and even Disneyland designers use colors in very specific ways to get you to subconsciously behave one way or another. Colors can be used to hide things in plain sight, draw you in, make you trust one thing over another or repel you from something else. Because colors hold such strong natural affiliations, we tend to judge new things based on their colors before we even get a chance to make a logical decision about them. 

Your favorite color is probably your favorite color for a reason — it might say more about you than you think. 

Written by: Molly Thompson — mmtthompson@ucdavis.edu 

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed by individual columnists belong to the columnists alone and do not necessarily indicate the views and opinions held by The California Aggie

I got you girl — from right here

By NEVAEH KARRAKER — nakarraker@ucdavis.edu

“Lord of the Rings.” “Star Wars.” “Harry Potter.”

It’s easy to get lost in the lore of incredible stories like these. I can spend hours studying elvish runes, ancient wars and the distinct fighting styles of each Jedi without a hint of boredom. And yet, when it comes to a basic Canvas assignment, I struggle to even start — that red and white logo just stares back at me with judgement, and frankly, a sense of looming doom.

I can’t imagine the things I’d accomplish if I approached my academics with the same enthusiasm I do with my hobbies. However, that sense of wonder doesn’t just disappear — it becomes buried underneath the stress of deadlines and exams. By overpowering passion with pressure, academic institutions indirectly suppress a students’ desire to learn — which is ironically the exact quality they’re looking to nurture. It’s like when your parents ask you to wash the dishes right as you’re about to do them on your own; the task has now been reduced to an obligation instead of a choice.

So, how do we revive that wonder?

Let’s be real, taking unique classes that pique our interest is not always a possibility. Higher education will always come with unwanted assignments, so it becomes the student’s responsibility to generate their intrinsic motivation.

Take this as a sign to try and see your coursework as an opportunity: an “I get to” rather than an “I have to.” Here are some tips that I’ve gathered to help you resist intellectual burnout — a little more than the standard advice to “get eight hours of sleep” (although that is equally important).

1. Fuel your body. Eat fruit and salty foods throughout the day to boost your electrolytes and consume protein to stimulate neurotransmitters tied to concentration and mood. Food is brain fuel, after all.
2. Romanticize the grind. Buy some new stationary, fix a snack of sliced apples, crank the volume up on a good playlist — treat studying as you would arts and crafts during the summer: wield that yearning for creativity and nostalgia.
3. My personal favorite tip: trick your mind. Being immersed in a novel feels like entering a flow-state. Those that get it, get it (bookworms know exactly what I mean). That effortless, consuming focus you slip into when a story grabs your attention can be recreated with schoolwork by fabricating the environment around you. Set the mood with candles that dimly light the room and send the scent of tea wafting through the air. Can’t take a crack at that painstaking essay just yet? You’re not a history student, you’re a wizard at Hogwarts: that chemistry homework is just a polyjuice potion recipe.
4. Create a reward system. A second part of this little trick is to construct an incentive program, and take it seriously. Rewiring your brain to bestow mini dopamine shots every time you pick up your Apple pencil can be a very effective technique of motivation — fully embrace neuro-manipulation. Every time you finish a paragraph, treat yourself with a bite of chocolate. Hit play on your favorite show only once you’ve started studying. And, if you can’t focus in your room, go to the CoHo and make a firm rule: matcha is only for solving calculus problems. With consistency, you will have successfully correlated studying with the things you love the most, making your brain look forward to doing work.

Now, these tips are merely tools to reframe your attitude; They are not substitutes for balance or masks for exhaustion and burnout. Don’t forgo rest if you need it — nourishment is essential for productivity. 

In the end, you have the power to respond to the rigid systems around you, even though your “laziness” is justified by them. Because you’re not truly lazy, you’re simply uninterested. If you can get emotionally invested in the politics of Middle Earth, you can learn how to become invested in your education. We can’t blame everything on the system; now that’s lazy.

There’s only so much others can do for us. My role is telling you this; Romanticize everything. The rest is up to your own drive and discipline.

Written by: Nevaeh Karraker—nakarraker@ucdavis.edu

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed by individual columnists belong to the columnists alone and do not necessarily indicate the views and opinions held by The California Aggie.

How code-switching changes a person’s identity 

By VIOLET ZANZOT— vmzanzot@ucdavis.edu

How many languages do you speak? 

Personally, I can speak English. That’s it. That being said, I can do a decent amount with English. I like to think that I can write in formal English, and on occasion, I can speak in formal English. I speak casually with friends. I speak a very different kind of casually with customers while working in the service industry. The way I speak with my sister is probably considered English to most, but may not be to others. 

I can use the singular language of English as a performative tool in order to connect with others. This is because language is more expansive than grammar rules, syntax, letters or words. Language is a code that represents meaning and culture. 

Fatiha Guessabi explains that “to interact with a language means to do so with the culture which is its reference point.”

While this rings true, it is also important to consider that many cultures may use the same language with slight differences in their coding. By engaging in code-switching, shaping the culture of the language one is speaking in, one can alter their linguistic vocabulary to portray oneself in unique ways. 

Former President Barack Obama was notoriously captured greeting white basketball coaches very differently than Kevin Durant, a Black basketball player, in 2012. The scene was later parodied by comedians Keegan-Michael Key and Jordan Peele. The humor of their bit devolves from the reality that is code-switching. To see it so drastically, obviously and quickly feels like we’re seeing a secret switch that often exists behind closed doors. Putting both versions of Obama in one room is so seemingly contradictory that it’s parodiable. 

“Broadly, code-switching involves adjusting one’s style of speech, appearance, behavior and expression in ways that will optimize the comfort of others in exchange for fair treatment, quality service and employment opportunities,” according to an article by the Harvard Business Review, 

The authors describe code-switching as a practice that benefits specifically the Black community, but which can also be an underlying cause of psychological trauma. Because language is an expression of culture, it seems clear that code-switching — in other words, changing how one chooses to say something — changes more than just the exact words being used. While the point of code-switching may be inherently used in order to change culture, a commonly ignored and harmful side effect is that it forces people to take on multiple identities and change their version of themselves. 

Speaking differently to operate in specific environments requires a person to act duplicitously: to never be singular and always be plural. How can one have a sense of self when that self must change to adapt in every situation? 

 If you ever put on a costume, or even just wear a different style of clothing, you sense yourself embodying that role. Somehow, wearing the cape makes the man “super.” 

Language does the same thing. While we might find that we can maintain the same disposition, morality or sense of self, as we are forced to change our verbal costume, so does our personhood change. There is no singular self in a world of code-switching; we become the way we use our language. 

Written by: Violet Zanzot— vmzanzot@ucdavis.edu

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed by individual columnists belong to the columnists alone and do not necessarily indicate the views and opinions held by The California Aggie.

Vegetarianism, now more than ever before, is an indication of personal morality and responsibility

By GEETIKA MAHAJAN — giamahajan@ucdavis.edu

Vegetarians and vegans get a lot of flack— and it’s understandable why. For all the goodness of their cause, it’s hard to tolerate a group of people who ceaselessly preach about how their life choices are more ethical than your own. Like feminists or Twitter (now X) activists, vegetarians frequently and unfortunately fall into that group of people who have a decent message but poor publicity.

In recent years, there’s been a new kind of vegetarian — one motivated not by animal rights, but rather by the rising climate crisis. About one fourth of the adults in the United States are “climatarians,” according to The New York Times — not vegan, not vegetarian, but still attempting to limit their consumption of red meat due to concerns over its carbon footprint

There’s still an ethical divide between “climatarians” and vegetarians, even though the output is the same. When it comes to perspectives on actual lives, consequentialism is ineffective in measuring where people’s moralities lie. Whether people are interested in acknowledging it or not, the basis of vegetarianism — believing that human lives and animal lives are essentially equal — is rooted in a more compassionate worldview than pescetarianism, climatarian-ism or any other variation that simply “limits” the amount of meat a person consumes. 

There are a lot of arguments that seem to invalidate this perspective. There’s the vague yet commonly referenced study that seems to prove that plants have “emotional depth” or some semblance of “feeling,” which is frequently used as evidence that omnivorous and herbivorous lifestyles are equally unethical. However, this presentation of the study misrepresents the actual findings — plants can respond to their environment, but they can’t actually feel pain or any emotion at all. If we were to interpret every response to external stimulus as a sign of sentience, then rocks, self-adjusting thermostats, and motion detectors could fall under the umbrella of “being alive” as well. 

Another rebuttal against vegetarianism is that humans need meat to survive, which is based on the assumption that the diet of our hunter-gatherer ancestors affects our nutritional needs in the modern world as well. On the one hand, it is true that human society seems to have evolved around the consumption of meat; Historically, weapons, societal structures and even fire were invented with this impetus. On the other hand, humans are constantly evolving — both psychologically and physically. What was true for our ancestors does not necessarily apply to us now; our ancestors didn’t wear clothes, but that doesn’t mean that we have to run around naked. 

While it is true that protein-rich foods are integral to a healthy diet, the assumption that animal products are the most cost or nutrition-efficient source of this protein is untrue. Beans are a protein-dense alternative to meat, and are some of the cheapest items on grocery shelves. Plant protein, as well as meat alternatives, are becoming more and more readily available. The majority of the Indian subcontinent manages to survive on a vegetarian diet — while there may be some nutritional benefits to a carnivorous diet, there are equal benefits, if not greater ones, to cutting down on red meat. 

In truth, eating meat is something we as humans do without questioning — simply because questioning it is uncomfortable. Examining this habit on a deeper level forces us to come to terms with the idea that, between doing what’s right and what feels easy or comfortable, many of us will choose the option that requires less sacrifice and minimizes our own discomfort. Arguments advocating for the consumption of meat are becoming less relevant as humans and alternative food sources evolve, and the climatic consequences of consuming meat become more obvious. 

Now, more than ever before, swapping animal products for tofu and oat milk is a question of personal ethics rather than personal preference — and while it is unfortunate that the agricultural industry has corrupted the consumption of animal products in this way, it’s not something that we should, or even can, ignore. In a world where every act of consumption has economic and ethical ramifications, we should not be wielding our purchasing power so carelessly.

Written by: Geetika Mahajan — giamahajan@ucdavis.edu

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed by individual columnists belong to the columnists alone and do not necessarily indicate the views and opinions held by The California Aggie.