Is Hugo Chavez Schrödinger's Cat?

Back, back, many years ago, back when I thought I might be smart, I took a lot of math, chemistry, and physics classes in college. All my high school friends were math and science wizards, and nearly everyone of them ended up attending CalTech. I wasn't that smart. I went to UCLA, instead, and tried to take a CalTech sort of load there. I learned a great deal, and will always be grateful to the sciences for providing me certain analytical skills which proved very helpful in later life. Having a basic grasp of real science, and not of "Gender Oppression in the Literature of Colonial Africa," can be invaluable in helping debunk enormous quantities of the nonsense in the media and politics, especially when it comes to issues dealing with science, e.g., the imminent death of humanity from overpopulation, global "warming," AIDS, SARS, anthrax, fracking, etc. Two intense years of studying hard science also convinced me that I was not smart enough to study hard science and should instead focus my energies somewhere, let us say, where there weren't as many Jewish and Asian kids. So, I switched to history and political "science" -- it has "science" in it, right? -- went to grad school, an overseas university, and landed a nice little sinecure with the Foreign Service. Dummies can prosper, too!

One topic which helped convince me I wouldn't make it as a scientist was "Schrödinger's Cat." I won't go into detail on that little thought experiment since the internet has lots of good explanations. It also happens to be one of those which I understand for about two seconds, and then it goes away. The bottom line is that under certain circumstances in quantum physics a cat in a sealed box can be dead and alive at the same time. In the "real" world, of course, the cat is one or the other. This helps illustrate what is called either "quantum indeterminacy" or "observer's paradox." The act of observation or measurement can affect the outcome: the outcome does not exist unless the measurement is made, i.e., in this case, opening the box and seeing whether the cat lives. Heisenberg, of course, described a similar phenomenon with his "uncertainty principle," which lays out that an observer cannot know for sure that observation has not influenced the phenomenon under observation. We see this exciting and complex principle at work in "reality" shows. Do people behave the same when the camera is on as when it is off? Yes, my friends, it turns out that "Jersey Shore" actually provides a lesson in quantum physics. Who'd a thunk that? And they say there's no quality TV programming!

This will not be on the test. Let's move on.

This, of course, is a typical round-about Diplomad way of getting to today's topic: Venezuela. Hugo Chavez, following in the footsteps of other dictators and mountebanks, e.g., Stalin, Castro, Tito, Franco, Salazar, the North Korean Kims, and our own Woodrow Wilson (unfair, I know, but funny), keeps the true state of his physical condition from his followers and subjects. He and his immediate circle fear the consequences of the truth, of the people learning that their putative god has not only feet of clay but perhaps also heart, lungs, and kidneys made of the same earthy material. The truth of the Great Man's mortality and impending departure from the scene must be hidden as long as possible to ensure the continuation of the circle of graft and corruption, and that the oppression machine remains operational. We see that at work in Venezuela. The Great Man has slinked away to a sealed box in Havana for the "finest" medical care his petrodollars can buy--he most likely has, as did Castro, European doctors attending him.

{Note: I strongly recommend my friend Luis Fleischman's excellent piece on the struggle among the elite for the future of Venezuela in The Americas Report.}

Like a weird Schrödinger's cat, Chavez is both dead and alive at the same time. With time, of course, observation will reveal the "objective" state of the Great Man's condition. Don't, of course, put it past the Venezuelan corruptocrats and their Cuban backers to try some El Cid Campeador stunt: dead but suited up in his armor and astride his faithful horse Babieca to frighten the besieging Moors. It is, however, all a matter of time for the smell of putrefaction to reveal the truth about what is happening in Venezuela.

My condolences to Sean Penn and Oliver Stone.