I wrote a couple of posts early in June talking about how understanding the way certain search tools functioned could explain away their offensive or merely bizarre results. A few days after those posts, I was put to the test by my own piece of technology.
It happened when I was (for reasons I cannot recall in hindsight) typing ‘businesswoman’ into my phone. Readers should know that I don't own one of those mini-computers the kids these days call ‘phones’. Rather, I have a flip phone, and a fairly advanced one at that, but it’s still limited in terms of texting by my having just ten numbered keys for typing. This means words like ‘room’ and ‘soon’ are spelled using the same sequence of keys on my phone. As I type, my phone will try to guess what I’m typing. Anyone who has used a search engine will know that this autofill feature can lead to some unexpected results.
Anyway, back to business, or to ‘businesswoman’ – as I was typing the word, I noticed that the phone filled in ‘businessman’. I laughed a little bit when I first saw this, almost triumphantly, because I knew that I had some easy material for TOA. When I got around to starting this post, I remembered my own words from those aforementioned pieces about the importance of understanding how search engines work. I decided to confirm how my phone was actually functioning, step-by-step, before I jumped to any conclusions.
Here are the results of my experiment – below is what I typed into my phone followed in parentheses by what my phone filled in:
b (a)
bu (at)
bus (bus)
busi (bush)
No surprises so far from my perspective. These first four entries are a good example of the phone’s autofill function in action – it looks at the letters and provides a rank order of the most commonly used words.
busin (curio)
busine (crime/buried)
busines (arrives)
This is an illuminating block. It starts innocently enough – I guess ‘curious’ is more commonly used than ‘business’, though I didn’t care enough to find out for myself. The next letter (d, e, or f) told the phone ‘curious’ likely wasn’t my target so it went off in search of a new word. It gave me two options (I ran multiple experiments): ‘crime’ and ‘buried’.
This was an interesting outcome for two reasons. First, neither word fits based on my spelling. In other words, in order for the phone to suggest these words, it assumed a misspelling and tried to correct me. This is a problematic point that we’ll talk about more in a moment. The second reason is that by giving me different options seemingly at random, it dispels the notion that the phone is using a technique where it knows the most likely final word for a given combination of keys. Instead, for certain cases it appears that the phone is choosing at random from two or more plausible choices. If it tracks my choices and updates its internal set of probabilities to give me my most common choice over time, it would qualify as an elementary example of machine learning! My flip phone is more advanced than it appears to the naked eye.
business (business)
businessw (choppy)
businesswo (businessman)
businesswom (businessman)
This is the key sequence. It appears initially that we are back in business (!) but my phone loses the plot immediately when it spits out ‘choppy’ after I append a ‘w’ to ‘business’. Yikes.
From here, it’s like watching a dumpster fire roll slowly down a hill. First, I add ‘o’ and feel my eyes roll right out of my head as the phone makes its best guess. I follow up with the ‘m’ in a vain attempt to save my text but it seems nothing can divert the phone from the erroneous precedent set by its ‘choppy’ autofill choice.
At this point, we've clearly established the reason for my post. Let’s wrap it up first, and then consider some final thoughts.
businesswoma (businesswoman)
businesswoman (businesswoman)
Eventually, the phone gets the message and fills in the right word. However, it required some extra effort – I needed to type in all but the final ‘n’ to get the autofill on the right track. I’m sure there is a plausible technical explanation here but it wouldn’t be much of an excuse. Is it really possible that someone who types in ‘businesswom’ meant to type out ‘businessman’? Was this a common spelling mistake in those glory days of longhand? The saddest thing about all this is that as I continue to use my phone, it’s very likely I will discover additional applications of yesterday’s logic.
I’ve often joked that one day the science museum will confiscate my ancient flip phone and place it in a display case. I’ll certainly make that joke again, but for different reasons. When people laugh, I’ll have to consider an important question – whose job is it to correct a harmless assumption? My phone has clearly taken up a position just a couple steps to one side of this fine line. Maybe the more relevant question is, if I remain quiet, do I symbolically join my phone on its side of the line? I suppose for what it’s worth the logic of autofill would certainly say so – the words it places in my mouth are, if left uncorrected, the words that become my own.
Sunday, June 30, 2019
Saturday, June 29, 2019
fortune cookie power ratings (part 6)
Good morning, reader!
Welcome to the sixth and final installment of my recent fortune cookie review. I hope that you leave this series with a better appreciation of the fortune cookie industry’s subtle lies and bring a more discerning eye to the next pointless message that impresses your fellow dining companions.
Please enjoy today’s final post.
Pennies from heaven find their way to your doorstep this year!
Do you see, reader, what we are dealing with? Pennies from heaven? Pennies are useless. Message to heaven – stop littering. If I had a million pennies, I’d probably end up on that hoarding show. If heaven is full of pennies, I’m not going.
True, False, or Racist?
This fortune broke the TFR algorithm. The lesson – pennies are useless.
Keep it or chuck it?
What, the pennies? How many do I have?
Do not spend the money you don’t have.
Uhhh... can I have those pennies, actually?
Anyway, is there a better time to read this fortune than after finishing a meal out? Here comes the check, but remember, don’t spend the money you don't have… thanks.
I realized that my habit of saving fortunes and, to a lesser extent, the existence of this very project goes back to this one message. I don’t remember the exact moment I got this fortune – my guess is it came after a series of meals at Sato II, a little restaurant near my first job where I would regularly meet a friend for lunch. I’ve kept the fortune in a somewhat prominent place in my wallet ever since (though I don’t look at it more than once a month).
True, False, or Racist?
False, though only from a technical perspective. The obvious counter here is borrowing and I agree that such a literal interpretation of the fortune pushes the thought into the false category – when we borrow, we spend the money that we don’t have.
Keep it or chuck it?
Keep it.
Although I acknowledge the fortune is technically inaccurate, I like how it provides a good rule of thumb for thinking about personal finance over a lifetime as opposed to over a wallet. Just as a careful borrower considers future earnings when taking on a loan obligation, a careful spender considers future purchases when weighing a decision in the present. If I’m due to spend money tomorrow, then in a way I know I don’t have that money to spend today.
Welcome to the sixth and final installment of my recent fortune cookie review. I hope that you leave this series with a better appreciation of the fortune cookie industry’s subtle lies and bring a more discerning eye to the next pointless message that impresses your fellow dining companions.
Please enjoy today’s final post.
Pennies from heaven find their way to your doorstep this year!
Do you see, reader, what we are dealing with? Pennies from heaven? Pennies are useless. Message to heaven – stop littering. If I had a million pennies, I’d probably end up on that hoarding show. If heaven is full of pennies, I’m not going.
True, False, or Racist?
This fortune broke the TFR algorithm. The lesson – pennies are useless.
Keep it or chuck it?
What, the pennies? How many do I have?
Do not spend the money you don’t have.
Uhhh... can I have those pennies, actually?
Anyway, is there a better time to read this fortune than after finishing a meal out? Here comes the check, but remember, don’t spend the money you don't have… thanks.
I realized that my habit of saving fortunes and, to a lesser extent, the existence of this very project goes back to this one message. I don’t remember the exact moment I got this fortune – my guess is it came after a series of meals at Sato II, a little restaurant near my first job where I would regularly meet a friend for lunch. I’ve kept the fortune in a somewhat prominent place in my wallet ever since (though I don’t look at it more than once a month).
True, False, or Racist?
False, though only from a technical perspective. The obvious counter here is borrowing and I agree that such a literal interpretation of the fortune pushes the thought into the false category – when we borrow, we spend the money that we don’t have.
Keep it or chuck it?
Keep it.
Although I acknowledge the fortune is technically inaccurate, I like how it provides a good rule of thumb for thinking about personal finance over a lifetime as opposed to over a wallet. Just as a careful borrower considers future earnings when taking on a loan obligation, a careful spender considers future purchases when weighing a decision in the present. If I’m due to spend money tomorrow, then in a way I know I don’t have that money to spend today.
Friday, June 28, 2019
leftovers – checking in with mass health
I wrote the original post over a year ago thinking that the bizarrely dated later I received would be the end of my involvement with Massachusett’s health insurance program. Ha, ha…
A few months later, I received a strange letter in the mail from the state. I’ve become accustomed to such correspondence over the past couple of years, particularly regarding unemployment or healthcare benefits, but this most recent letter surprised me – it was a check, and for more than an insignificant sum. Apparently, the state had reviewed some recent records and discovered that I had been overcharged for my health insurance coverage. The amount on the check was the exact amount I used to pay monthly for my premium.
There is a lot of talk about the future of health insurance and most of this talk involves how the government might increase its involvement. On the surface, you might think this experience would inform my view a little bit – who would want the government involved in health insurance when my experience with state-run insurance exposed me to hours of admin, inexplicable billing practices, and months of delays to return my money (even though I always paid ten days in advance of the coming month)? Well, I say – is that any different from life with a private insurer? I argue that state government is perfectly qualified to generate endless admin, develop nonsensical billing structures, and lose track of my money. They are, in short, more than prepared to take over these roles from private insurers because they already do it so well for everything else. Based on my refund check, I imagine applying this expertise to health insurance would be a breeze.
My serious argument for getting the government involved in health insurance isn’t that government would be good at it – it’s that our private insurers are clearly terrible at it. Or perhaps I should say, it seems like the market is working exactly as designed by private insurers – profit maximization is prioritized ahead of public good. Whether it’s the way our most vulnerable struggle to buy private coverage or how the average American pays far more for health insurance than our European counterparts, to me what I see when I dig into the workings of private insurance is a thinly veiled oligopoly. What other name is there for a group of firms that maintain an artificially high market price by restricting supply and erecting high barriers to entry?
The results are in – private insurance has failed all but the industry’s richest employees. The great thing is that this is a market failure and therefore easy to correct. We just need to drag the government into the industry and let it do what it does best – almost nothing, and very slowly. But its sheer size will help stabilize a floundering industry and drive all but the fittest private insurers into bankruptcy. This will buy time for us to determine the best way private insurers fit into the future of the uniquely challenging American health insurance market without forcing taxpayers to risk their health for what would otherwise be a rushed experiment.
A few months later, I received a strange letter in the mail from the state. I’ve become accustomed to such correspondence over the past couple of years, particularly regarding unemployment or healthcare benefits, but this most recent letter surprised me – it was a check, and for more than an insignificant sum. Apparently, the state had reviewed some recent records and discovered that I had been overcharged for my health insurance coverage. The amount on the check was the exact amount I used to pay monthly for my premium.
There is a lot of talk about the future of health insurance and most of this talk involves how the government might increase its involvement. On the surface, you might think this experience would inform my view a little bit – who would want the government involved in health insurance when my experience with state-run insurance exposed me to hours of admin, inexplicable billing practices, and months of delays to return my money (even though I always paid ten days in advance of the coming month)? Well, I say – is that any different from life with a private insurer? I argue that state government is perfectly qualified to generate endless admin, develop nonsensical billing structures, and lose track of my money. They are, in short, more than prepared to take over these roles from private insurers because they already do it so well for everything else. Based on my refund check, I imagine applying this expertise to health insurance would be a breeze.
My serious argument for getting the government involved in health insurance isn’t that government would be good at it – it’s that our private insurers are clearly terrible at it. Or perhaps I should say, it seems like the market is working exactly as designed by private insurers – profit maximization is prioritized ahead of public good. Whether it’s the way our most vulnerable struggle to buy private coverage or how the average American pays far more for health insurance than our European counterparts, to me what I see when I dig into the workings of private insurance is a thinly veiled oligopoly. What other name is there for a group of firms that maintain an artificially high market price by restricting supply and erecting high barriers to entry?
The results are in – private insurance has failed all but the industry’s richest employees. The great thing is that this is a market failure and therefore easy to correct. We just need to drag the government into the industry and let it do what it does best – almost nothing, and very slowly. But its sheer size will help stabilize a floundering industry and drive all but the fittest private insurers into bankruptcy. This will buy time for us to determine the best way private insurers fit into the future of the uniquely challenging American health insurance market without forcing taxpayers to risk their health for what would otherwise be a rushed experiment.
Labels:
toa nonsense
Thursday, June 27, 2019
the 2018 toa book award – preliminary round, part three
This elimination round sees me roll back the years and take a closer look at two books I first read in high school.
Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut (May 2018)
The most memorable aspect of rereading this 1969 classic was discovering Vonnegut’s powerful anti-war message. You may scoff at this, reader – how did you miss that the first time??? – but in my defense, I present a number of counter arguments, including (i) I was in high school, (ii) most people are idiots in high school, (iii) I was like most people in high school, (iv) it’s possible I didn’t read the book very carefully, and (v) it’s possible I just forgot this given that high school was almost literally half a lifetime ago!
Point (v) brings me neatly to the other aspect of this book I believe I am only just now learning to appreciate – the way the main protagonist experiences time without linearity. I mention it here because although I understand how long ago high school was, there are moments when I feel like it all happened just yesterday. This is not to suggest I believe I am time traveling – I am under no illusion that the next moment will send me hurtling backward or forward in time. What I refer to is my growing understanding about the strength of certain memories and a new appreciation for how this power can make certain reminisces feel as if I’m thinking back twenty minutes rather than twenty years.
Parting thought: Standard bombing during WWII caused more death than nuclear weapons.
It’s easy to study history in the 21st century and wag a finger at decisions made many decades ago. How could our leaders have concluded that their best option was to use nuclear weapons? Nuance comes with context and in this example knowing that the relative loss of life was comparable to that of infamous missions like the Dresden fire bombing helps me understand that the alternatives considered in the Allied war room likely bore little resemblance to the way someone in 2019 might frame the question.
One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez (December 2018)
Like with Slaughterhouse-Five, I found a greater appreciation for this work after returning to it as an adult than I did when I (sort of) read it in high school. Marquez’s characters share a certain perspective with the above mentioned book – although the clock consistently moves forward in Macondo, the characters often experience time in a circular rather than linear way. This theme is reinforced throughout by the characters’ recycled names, the events that shape the destiny of the town, and – my personal favorite example – Melquiades and his damn parchments.
Parting thought: Though circular in nature, life moves forward not as the wheel turns but when the axle wears out.
The strange paradox of life is that we thrive with the new and the novel yet we constantly push ourselves toward greater stability. Nowhere do I witness this challenge in action more than in the battle between maintenance and invention, an ongoing war of escalating complexity in structure, process, and procedure that struggles in vain against our natural instinct to renew through a cycle of destruction and creation. Humans who succumb to the pressure of keeping things the same are doomed to churn forever like wheels in the mud, sinking into a rut of their own making, forever spinning in their structure until the axle breaks and forces them out.
Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut (May 2018)
The most memorable aspect of rereading this 1969 classic was discovering Vonnegut’s powerful anti-war message. You may scoff at this, reader – how did you miss that the first time??? – but in my defense, I present a number of counter arguments, including (i) I was in high school, (ii) most people are idiots in high school, (iii) I was like most people in high school, (iv) it’s possible I didn’t read the book very carefully, and (v) it’s possible I just forgot this given that high school was almost literally half a lifetime ago!
Point (v) brings me neatly to the other aspect of this book I believe I am only just now learning to appreciate – the way the main protagonist experiences time without linearity. I mention it here because although I understand how long ago high school was, there are moments when I feel like it all happened just yesterday. This is not to suggest I believe I am time traveling – I am under no illusion that the next moment will send me hurtling backward or forward in time. What I refer to is my growing understanding about the strength of certain memories and a new appreciation for how this power can make certain reminisces feel as if I’m thinking back twenty minutes rather than twenty years.
Parting thought: Standard bombing during WWII caused more death than nuclear weapons.
It’s easy to study history in the 21st century and wag a finger at decisions made many decades ago. How could our leaders have concluded that their best option was to use nuclear weapons? Nuance comes with context and in this example knowing that the relative loss of life was comparable to that of infamous missions like the Dresden fire bombing helps me understand that the alternatives considered in the Allied war room likely bore little resemblance to the way someone in 2019 might frame the question.
One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez (December 2018)
Like with Slaughterhouse-Five, I found a greater appreciation for this work after returning to it as an adult than I did when I (sort of) read it in high school. Marquez’s characters share a certain perspective with the above mentioned book – although the clock consistently moves forward in Macondo, the characters often experience time in a circular rather than linear way. This theme is reinforced throughout by the characters’ recycled names, the events that shape the destiny of the town, and – my personal favorite example – Melquiades and his damn parchments.
Parting thought: Though circular in nature, life moves forward not as the wheel turns but when the axle wears out.
The strange paradox of life is that we thrive with the new and the novel yet we constantly push ourselves toward greater stability. Nowhere do I witness this challenge in action more than in the battle between maintenance and invention, an ongoing war of escalating complexity in structure, process, and procedure that struggles in vain against our natural instinct to renew through a cycle of destruction and creation. Humans who succumb to the pressure of keeping things the same are doomed to churn forever like wheels in the mud, sinking into a rut of their own making, forever spinning in their structure until the axle breaks and forces them out.
Wednesday, June 26, 2019
tales of two cities – speed kills
The Longfellow Bridge construction project has been one of the area’s consistent features since I moved to Beacon Hill around five years ago. It was a long journey, one filled with train delays, overnight road closures, unexpected potholes in the bike lane, and more. But to my great surprise the project ended just a few months ago and the new and improved bridge opened to the public for full-time use.
The bridge boasts a couple of new features that are important for bike safety. The first is a series of plastic posts placed directly on the dividing line between the bike lane and car traffic. As I understand, these posts are the source of some minor controversy and at one time I was under the impression that these would remain on the bridge only temporarily. However, nothing has changed and it therefore seems like I was mistaken. I see these posts as an improvement because they seem to help drivers stay in their lane – I never have close calls anymore on the Longfellow Bridge where I feel a driver’s mirrors zip past my left shoulder. Let’s hope this positive result of the construction project remains a permanent element of the bridge.
The second feature is a radar unit that tracks a driver’s speed as a car passes the midpoint of the bridge. Above the display is the city speed limit – 25 MPH. It’s interesting to me that on this bridge that links my two biking cities, there is no ambiguity about the speed limit – both Boston and Cambridge have recently implemented 25 MPH as their official citywide maximum. Both cities, it seems, have decided that there are real benefits to keeping all drivers at or below 25 MPH. But what exactly are these benefits? I came across a little research the other day that suggests the answer is safety. This research found that a car hitting a pedestrian at 36 to 45 MPH is four times more likely to kill the pedestrian than a collision between 26 to 30 MPH.
Perhaps this puts me into a minority but I feel the speed limit has far more potential as an important safety feature than the dividing posts. There are two obvious problems with my position. First, I am assuming that the biker who is hit by a car traveling below 25 MPH will be able to walk away from the collision. This is a big assumption but speaks to an important consideration about safety research that measures mortality risk. If the chances of survival increase but only guarantee a poor quality of life, it’s probably more important in this specific context to focus on measures that prevent collisions rather than encourage drivers to slow down before running someone over.
The second problem is much more immediate – no one seems to be actually following the speed limit. It’s the aforementioned radar unit that tells this story, and it doesn’t matter toward which city the car is driving. It seems that anytime I bike or walk past the unit, cars are constantly zipping past, leaving only the digitized evidence of misdemeanor in their wake – 31, 37, 42 miles per hour. The number always seems to blink down at me as I walk past – what are you gonna do about it? I’m toying with the idea of sitting on the bridge for an hour or so sometime and recording all the speed numbers but I don't think such a silly measure is required to make my point – a safety feature is useless anytime it is ignored. As long as this remains the case on the Longfellow Bridge, it will remain those plastic posts that deserve all the credit for any safety improvements.
The bridge boasts a couple of new features that are important for bike safety. The first is a series of plastic posts placed directly on the dividing line between the bike lane and car traffic. As I understand, these posts are the source of some minor controversy and at one time I was under the impression that these would remain on the bridge only temporarily. However, nothing has changed and it therefore seems like I was mistaken. I see these posts as an improvement because they seem to help drivers stay in their lane – I never have close calls anymore on the Longfellow Bridge where I feel a driver’s mirrors zip past my left shoulder. Let’s hope this positive result of the construction project remains a permanent element of the bridge.
The second feature is a radar unit that tracks a driver’s speed as a car passes the midpoint of the bridge. Above the display is the city speed limit – 25 MPH. It’s interesting to me that on this bridge that links my two biking cities, there is no ambiguity about the speed limit – both Boston and Cambridge have recently implemented 25 MPH as their official citywide maximum. Both cities, it seems, have decided that there are real benefits to keeping all drivers at or below 25 MPH. But what exactly are these benefits? I came across a little research the other day that suggests the answer is safety. This research found that a car hitting a pedestrian at 36 to 45 MPH is four times more likely to kill the pedestrian than a collision between 26 to 30 MPH.
Perhaps this puts me into a minority but I feel the speed limit has far more potential as an important safety feature than the dividing posts. There are two obvious problems with my position. First, I am assuming that the biker who is hit by a car traveling below 25 MPH will be able to walk away from the collision. This is a big assumption but speaks to an important consideration about safety research that measures mortality risk. If the chances of survival increase but only guarantee a poor quality of life, it’s probably more important in this specific context to focus on measures that prevent collisions rather than encourage drivers to slow down before running someone over.
The second problem is much more immediate – no one seems to be actually following the speed limit. It’s the aforementioned radar unit that tells this story, and it doesn’t matter toward which city the car is driving. It seems that anytime I bike or walk past the unit, cars are constantly zipping past, leaving only the digitized evidence of misdemeanor in their wake – 31, 37, 42 miles per hour. The number always seems to blink down at me as I walk past – what are you gonna do about it? I’m toying with the idea of sitting on the bridge for an hour or so sometime and recording all the speed numbers but I don't think such a silly measure is required to make my point – a safety feature is useless anytime it is ignored. As long as this remains the case on the Longfellow Bridge, it will remain those plastic posts that deserve all the credit for any safety improvements.
Tuesday, June 25, 2019
reading review - sceptical essays (overthinking)
A theme I enjoyed from Bertrand Russell’s Skeptical Essays was his general distaste for thinking too much about simple concepts. He likened this to a scientist running crazy experiments – a logician must learn to recognize the limits of logical extensions in order to stop thinking when a train of thought has run past its useful terminus.
Russell uses the concept of rationality to demonstrate how logic is best applied in the simplest possible manner. He defines rationality in a modern community as not harming others so long as such actions do not harm the self. He adds that individuals apply rationality when they protect long-term interests from the temptations of short-term considerations. Many of today’s various definitions of ‘rational’ could benefit from having a second look at Russell’s simple and universal explanations of the term.
I also liked the recommendations for how a student might learn to simplify in the face of complex, contradicting, or voluminous information. One suggestion recommends presenting the various schools of thought on problems of practical importance and teaching students how to seek, identify, and follow the thread of arguments that come from different points of view. Another thought points out that newspapers with opposing ideologies are a great way to learn this skill – simply present students with multiple articles about a particular event and ask them to summarize what actually happened.
Russell uses the concept of rationality to demonstrate how logic is best applied in the simplest possible manner. He defines rationality in a modern community as not harming others so long as such actions do not harm the self. He adds that individuals apply rationality when they protect long-term interests from the temptations of short-term considerations. Many of today’s various definitions of ‘rational’ could benefit from having a second look at Russell’s simple and universal explanations of the term.
I also liked the recommendations for how a student might learn to simplify in the face of complex, contradicting, or voluminous information. One suggestion recommends presenting the various schools of thought on problems of practical importance and teaching students how to seek, identify, and follow the thread of arguments that come from different points of view. Another thought points out that newspapers with opposing ideologies are a great way to learn this skill – simply present students with multiple articles about a particular event and ask them to summarize what actually happened.
Monday, June 24, 2019
leftovers – the 2018 december rereading list (rebuilding)
In this post, I made a note that I felt I’d spent a lot of time in 2018 rebuilding my own routines. As I thought over the specifics of that quote, I realized that rebuilding wasn’t the best word for it and that I should explain my meaning in a little more detail.
First, I used rebuilding to describe the small changes to my daily routine that were necessitated by other much larger adjustments. A good example is how I started proofreading these TOA posts at home rather than at the library. I made this adjustment not because I thought proofreading would work better at home but because I started working full-time and needed my limited library time for other tasks.
I also used rebuilding to describe the intentional lifestyle changes that manifested as new routines in 2018. My decreased coffee consumption is one such change – for a variety of different reasons, I decided this past fall that I wanted to drink less coffee and reduced the two to three cups per morning I used to drink to around one (sometimes big) cup. In addition to the obvious result of drinking less coffee, I found the change also meant new patterns in terms of how I planned my day and, in particular, how I spent my first hours after waking.
Finally, I applied the rebuilding label to the occasional measures I took whenever I thought I needed to get my routine back on track. One way I’ve done this is by eating breakfast right away whenever I feel that my sleep cycle has been thrown off. The science isn’t fully established here, reader, but for me I’ve found that a 6 AM breakfast or two is a good way to train myself to wake up at 6 AM on ensuing mornings. I usually eat these early breakfasts until I feel my body is back to the pattern of waking naturally at this hour. Once I feel good about my sleep cycle, I return to eating my first meal sometime in the early afternoon.
The reason I look at these changes as examples of rebuilding is how the new routines (or variations within routines) built the foundation for me to do much more important things with my time without being true examples of new routines. I’ve always drank coffee, for example, and I ate breakfast for two and a half decades. The small changes to my routine also aren’t entirely necessary as stand-alone ideas (there isn’t any reason to wake up at 6 AM or to wait until late morning to drink my first – and only – cup of coffee). However, I feel those specific actions are required if I want to maximize my own abilities and find ways to attack each day as my best self.
First, I used rebuilding to describe the small changes to my daily routine that were necessitated by other much larger adjustments. A good example is how I started proofreading these TOA posts at home rather than at the library. I made this adjustment not because I thought proofreading would work better at home but because I started working full-time and needed my limited library time for other tasks.
I also used rebuilding to describe the intentional lifestyle changes that manifested as new routines in 2018. My decreased coffee consumption is one such change – for a variety of different reasons, I decided this past fall that I wanted to drink less coffee and reduced the two to three cups per morning I used to drink to around one (sometimes big) cup. In addition to the obvious result of drinking less coffee, I found the change also meant new patterns in terms of how I planned my day and, in particular, how I spent my first hours after waking.
Finally, I applied the rebuilding label to the occasional measures I took whenever I thought I needed to get my routine back on track. One way I’ve done this is by eating breakfast right away whenever I feel that my sleep cycle has been thrown off. The science isn’t fully established here, reader, but for me I’ve found that a 6 AM breakfast or two is a good way to train myself to wake up at 6 AM on ensuing mornings. I usually eat these early breakfasts until I feel my body is back to the pattern of waking naturally at this hour. Once I feel good about my sleep cycle, I return to eating my first meal sometime in the early afternoon.
The reason I look at these changes as examples of rebuilding is how the new routines (or variations within routines) built the foundation for me to do much more important things with my time without being true examples of new routines. I’ve always drank coffee, for example, and I ate breakfast for two and a half decades. The small changes to my routine also aren’t entirely necessary as stand-alone ideas (there isn’t any reason to wake up at 6 AM or to wait until late morning to drink my first – and only – cup of coffee). However, I feel those specific actions are required if I want to maximize my own abilities and find ways to attack each day as my best self.
Labels:
toa nonsense
Sunday, June 23, 2019
reading review - the mixer (riff off)
Hi all,
Let’s take a moment to look over some remaining ideas from Michael Cox’s Mixer that I did not get to in my initial reading review.
A counter attack forces the opponent to turn and run which makes it a viable tactic even if the attacks themselves aren’t successful.
Pressing is more about team organization than it is about raw energy.
The Mixer was filled with many little nuggets like these about tactics. The first thought demonstrates how one technique can be used differently across teams – one team might counter-attack purely as an offensive tactic while another might do so merely to force an opponent to expend energy while retreating. The second thought shows how tactics are only as effective as the team’s ability to convert its results into goal scoring opportunities – if a disorganized team presses, it will be in no position to transition quickly from defense to attack even if it manages to win possession.
A team that concedes playing zonal marking will see blame fall to the manager. By contrast, a team that man-marks will see individuals blamed.
Sometimes managers must sacrifice tactics for the sake of keeping certain star players happy.
Among the toughest parts of a manager’s job is giving star players special treatment without provoking the ire of the rest of the team.
The hidden question in The Mixer is highlighted in these notes – why do some managers ascend into the upper tier of the profession despite being middling tacticians? One aspect is how public perception influences job security – a manager who uses zonal marking will often come under fire from the press (‘a zone never scored a goal’) and might resort to tactics that shift the blame for failures onto the players.
Another reason involves star players. I suspect most (though not all) team builders would argue that the best player in the world is more valuable than the best tactician. This fact is reflected both in salaries (the top players are paid three times more than the best managers) and in perception (a great player can beat a great game plan). Managers who oversee star players will often demonstrate these perceptions by refusing to play certain tactics that suit the team just because it might force a star player out of position.
A manager that fails to train the team can only ask for certain styles that everyone is familiar with by default. If there are any changes, the lack of tactical awareness will only create confusion.
Having certain utility players capable of filling a variety of tactical roles is invaluable.
Tactical teams don’t just have a manager who knows about a bunch of different formations – they must also have players who are capable of adapting their play to suit different strategies. If a given team has a low level of tactical awareness, a manager must focus efforts in training on building knowledge about different playing styles before the team will be ready to perform at a high level using varied strategies during matches.
The tactically versatile utility player is a great short-term solution for teams with low tactical awareness. A player capable of shifting from one position to another can help a manager implement various tactical plans without forcing a major change in the roles of the other players in the team.
Managers seem to either adjust to the opposition or not. The latter type insists that their teams play a particular way and this predictability is their biggest vulnerability.
A lack of tactical work will prevent a group of gifted individuals from jelling into a team.
Managers who rarely adjust their tactics are often considered inflexible and may be perceived as vulnerable against opponents led by clever tacticians. However, these managers could simply feel that playing a consistent system brings more benefits in terms of team chemistry and cohesion than would a policy of constant adjustment. It’s often noted that great teams have a certain unity, resilience, and spirit that helps them find ways to win tough matches with late goals. These dramatic victories do not always result from a series of tactical adjustments – sometimes, a team just continues to fight and fight until they seem to force the ball into the goal through sheer will.
Teams that change formation all the time surely don’t know what they are doing.
Although anyone would prefer a manager who was expert in tactics over one who understood nothing about the game, it does seem to me that managers who emphasize their skills in ‘man-management’ – relating to players as a way to get the best out of them – are often devalued in comparison to the great strategic thinkers of the game. The reality is that just like any strategy the tactical approach must be done expertly and not too many managers are consistently expert in their application of tactics.
The key for any manager is to know his or her own strengths without overemphasizing their application. A great tactical manager might think a poor run of results means it is time to try new formations – however, it could also be more appropriate to bring the team together and rebuild confidence through encouragement and empathy.
In my brain I rearrange the letters on the page to spell your name…
Ultimately, tactics form just one component of sound management. At the start of each game, everyone gets eleven players, and the work of arranging those into the right strategy is undoubtedly crucial in the eventual result. However, managers can delude themselves into seeing things if they think moving around the pieces is the only way to spell out the desired result…
…what?
OK, fine – that last thought isn’t from The Mixer, it’s from Courtney Barnett’s ‘Pedestrian At Best’. But who better to walk us across the finish line in a riff off?
Let’s take a moment to look over some remaining ideas from Michael Cox’s Mixer that I did not get to in my initial reading review.
A counter attack forces the opponent to turn and run which makes it a viable tactic even if the attacks themselves aren’t successful.
Pressing is more about team organization than it is about raw energy.
The Mixer was filled with many little nuggets like these about tactics. The first thought demonstrates how one technique can be used differently across teams – one team might counter-attack purely as an offensive tactic while another might do so merely to force an opponent to expend energy while retreating. The second thought shows how tactics are only as effective as the team’s ability to convert its results into goal scoring opportunities – if a disorganized team presses, it will be in no position to transition quickly from defense to attack even if it manages to win possession.
A team that concedes playing zonal marking will see blame fall to the manager. By contrast, a team that man-marks will see individuals blamed.
Sometimes managers must sacrifice tactics for the sake of keeping certain star players happy.
Among the toughest parts of a manager’s job is giving star players special treatment without provoking the ire of the rest of the team.
The hidden question in The Mixer is highlighted in these notes – why do some managers ascend into the upper tier of the profession despite being middling tacticians? One aspect is how public perception influences job security – a manager who uses zonal marking will often come under fire from the press (‘a zone never scored a goal’) and might resort to tactics that shift the blame for failures onto the players.
Another reason involves star players. I suspect most (though not all) team builders would argue that the best player in the world is more valuable than the best tactician. This fact is reflected both in salaries (the top players are paid three times more than the best managers) and in perception (a great player can beat a great game plan). Managers who oversee star players will often demonstrate these perceptions by refusing to play certain tactics that suit the team just because it might force a star player out of position.
A manager that fails to train the team can only ask for certain styles that everyone is familiar with by default. If there are any changes, the lack of tactical awareness will only create confusion.
Having certain utility players capable of filling a variety of tactical roles is invaluable.
Tactical teams don’t just have a manager who knows about a bunch of different formations – they must also have players who are capable of adapting their play to suit different strategies. If a given team has a low level of tactical awareness, a manager must focus efforts in training on building knowledge about different playing styles before the team will be ready to perform at a high level using varied strategies during matches.
The tactically versatile utility player is a great short-term solution for teams with low tactical awareness. A player capable of shifting from one position to another can help a manager implement various tactical plans without forcing a major change in the roles of the other players in the team.
Managers seem to either adjust to the opposition or not. The latter type insists that their teams play a particular way and this predictability is their biggest vulnerability.
A lack of tactical work will prevent a group of gifted individuals from jelling into a team.
Managers who rarely adjust their tactics are often considered inflexible and may be perceived as vulnerable against opponents led by clever tacticians. However, these managers could simply feel that playing a consistent system brings more benefits in terms of team chemistry and cohesion than would a policy of constant adjustment. It’s often noted that great teams have a certain unity, resilience, and spirit that helps them find ways to win tough matches with late goals. These dramatic victories do not always result from a series of tactical adjustments – sometimes, a team just continues to fight and fight until they seem to force the ball into the goal through sheer will.
Teams that change formation all the time surely don’t know what they are doing.
Although anyone would prefer a manager who was expert in tactics over one who understood nothing about the game, it does seem to me that managers who emphasize their skills in ‘man-management’ – relating to players as a way to get the best out of them – are often devalued in comparison to the great strategic thinkers of the game. The reality is that just like any strategy the tactical approach must be done expertly and not too many managers are consistently expert in their application of tactics.
The key for any manager is to know his or her own strengths without overemphasizing their application. A great tactical manager might think a poor run of results means it is time to try new formations – however, it could also be more appropriate to bring the team together and rebuild confidence through encouragement and empathy.
In my brain I rearrange the letters on the page to spell your name…
Ultimately, tactics form just one component of sound management. At the start of each game, everyone gets eleven players, and the work of arranging those into the right strategy is undoubtedly crucial in the eventual result. However, managers can delude themselves into seeing things if they think moving around the pieces is the only way to spell out the desired result…
…what?
OK, fine – that last thought isn’t from The Mixer, it’s from Courtney Barnett’s ‘Pedestrian At Best’. But who better to walk us across the finish line in a riff off?
Labels:
books - the mixer
Saturday, June 22, 2019
fortune cookie power ratings (part 5)
Hello, hello –
I think we know what this is all about by now.
Perceived failure is oftentimes success trying to be born in a bigger way.
What?
True, False, or Racist?
False. This message’s ambiguous phrasing is an interesting feature. Generally, I hear this kind of thing from people who are so afraid of being technically inaccurate that they lose the power of their statement in the process of removing any and all details. Well, I think a statement so broad that it simply cannot be true is also so broad that it cannot be useful.
‘Perceived’ failure means… what? It sounds like it should just mean ‘failure’, but then we would say… failure… so it’s obviously something a little different... maybe? And ‘oftentimes’ sounds like a lazy argument – I see that oftentimes is used here to acknowledge that the statement isn't always true, but if that's the case why would I accept it as true for the purposes of this fortune? If it’s supposed to be true, it better always be true, don't you think?
Anyway, moving on – as far as a fortune goes this ambiguity seems unusual. It’s certainly been rare thus far in my sample set. Every fortune I’ve reviewed has at least tried to pass itself off as 'fact' (despite my determination that seven of the eight have been false) by using clear, declarative statements. I wonder if this explains the popularity of fortune cookies – strong statements create the impression of truth, especially if the idea itself is false.
Keep it or chuck it?
Chuck it.
Happiness is often a rebound from hard work.
Here’s another wishy-washy message that readers will be stunned to discover I’ve determined as…
True, False, or Racist?
False!
This isn’t as simple as my knowing enough perfectly happy people who don’t do anything. It’s also not that I know a lot of hard working people who remain unhappy. I think what I’ve learned from my experience is that hard work can help a great deal with sadness and that this indeed can help me become happier. But being less sad is different from happiness, a far more elusive feeling.
Keep it or chuck it?
Chuck it.
Failure is the opportunity to begin again more intelligently.
Is there a better way to wrap up than with a Failure Fetish Fortune?
True, False, or Racist?
False, false, false, false, false!
Why am I constantly finding people who insist on failing first before doing anything else? How about succeeding first? Or at least just not failing? My guess is that a lot of these ‘motivational’ messages come from people who don’t have a good understanding of failure. If someone is able to ‘begin again’ with more intelligence, that sounds to me like a setback, not a failure.
A failure is when you are unable to start again. I borrowed that thought from the following quote – success is never final, but failure can be. I agree with the quote in general but I would amend it – failure is final.
Keep it or chuck it?
Chuck it.
I think we know what this is all about by now.
Perceived failure is oftentimes success trying to be born in a bigger way.
What?
True, False, or Racist?
False. This message’s ambiguous phrasing is an interesting feature. Generally, I hear this kind of thing from people who are so afraid of being technically inaccurate that they lose the power of their statement in the process of removing any and all details. Well, I think a statement so broad that it simply cannot be true is also so broad that it cannot be useful.
‘Perceived’ failure means… what? It sounds like it should just mean ‘failure’, but then we would say… failure… so it’s obviously something a little different... maybe? And ‘oftentimes’ sounds like a lazy argument – I see that oftentimes is used here to acknowledge that the statement isn't always true, but if that's the case why would I accept it as true for the purposes of this fortune? If it’s supposed to be true, it better always be true, don't you think?
Anyway, moving on – as far as a fortune goes this ambiguity seems unusual. It’s certainly been rare thus far in my sample set. Every fortune I’ve reviewed has at least tried to pass itself off as 'fact' (despite my determination that seven of the eight have been false) by using clear, declarative statements. I wonder if this explains the popularity of fortune cookies – strong statements create the impression of truth, especially if the idea itself is false.
Keep it or chuck it?
Chuck it.
Happiness is often a rebound from hard work.
Here’s another wishy-washy message that readers will be stunned to discover I’ve determined as…
True, False, or Racist?
False!
This isn’t as simple as my knowing enough perfectly happy people who don’t do anything. It’s also not that I know a lot of hard working people who remain unhappy. I think what I’ve learned from my experience is that hard work can help a great deal with sadness and that this indeed can help me become happier. But being less sad is different from happiness, a far more elusive feeling.
Keep it or chuck it?
Chuck it.
Failure is the opportunity to begin again more intelligently.
Is there a better way to wrap up than with a Failure Fetish Fortune?
True, False, or Racist?
False, false, false, false, false!
Why am I constantly finding people who insist on failing first before doing anything else? How about succeeding first? Or at least just not failing? My guess is that a lot of these ‘motivational’ messages come from people who don’t have a good understanding of failure. If someone is able to ‘begin again’ with more intelligence, that sounds to me like a setback, not a failure.
A failure is when you are unable to start again. I borrowed that thought from the following quote – success is never final, but failure can be. I agree with the quote in general but I would amend it – failure is final.
Keep it or chuck it?
Chuck it.
Friday, June 21, 2019
leftovers #2 – true, false, racist, or… not funny?
Last week, I applied this post’s ‘Not Funny?’ framework to a Heineken ad as a way to consider how companies cannot fail at humor in the same way as individuals. When I was researching the ad, I thought it would be a good idea to look up some other racist commercials and see if I could gain some insights into this particular subset of advertising. I had a vague recollection of Nike putting out a questionable soccer commercial involving Japan around two decades ago (it was Pepsi, and it was close). I went on Youtube to start my investigation and I entered ‘racist japan nike commercial’ into the search bar. And I ended up with…
A Chinese detergent ad? Hey now, Youtube!
I’m not going to get all huffy and indignant here (well, to the extent that being here writing about it doesn't count as 'getting huffy and indignant'). This little search engine redirect is hardly An Event, just a result of a generic search tool on a big website. If needed, I'm sure I could even give a decent race-free technical explanation about why my search terms redirected to an unrelated detergent ad. But I suspect somewhere in the logic of linking my search to a Chinese ad is a loose association based on the shared racial grouping of Asian. To some degree, I suppose the logic of search is the logic of racism - both take a starting idea, apply a series of casual associations, and then lump as much as possible under the newly formed umbrella.
I'm not necessarily pointing an accusing finger at Youtube. In terms of its search algorithm, the part I’m referring to – ‘japan’ – likely wasn’t the main reason the search returned a Chinese result. My best guess is that the words ‘racist’ and ‘commercial’ explain most of the result. And although I reject linking ‘japan’ to a Chinese ad, this ad is a huge deal – at the time of writing, it had tens of millions of views. If Youtube gets even the vaguest hint of a reference to such a popular video, it’s going to include it in as many sets of results as possible. When it comes to search, the algorithm is always going to prioritize the most commonly watched videos because the most commonly watched videos are the most likely videos a given user wants to find via search.
This last point, I think, is the most important one. Youtube search is a lot like a mediocre journalist – just as the latter is never going to tell the boss that there is nothing to write about on a given day, Youtube is never going to return a search with an entirely blank page. Therefore, if the search terms don't return exact matches, the search algorithm is going to err on the side of returning a list of popular videos to which it can make any kind of casual association. It’s this reason, and probably this reason only, why my search for a soccer commercial returned a detergent ad.
Search is just like any other tool because understanding how it works makes it more likely to function properly – and less likely to create misunderstandings. No one accuses a hot stove of bigotry any time it burns someone because we all know how a stove works. Of course, there are more serious implications for this idea. As we incorporate advanced software into an ever-increasing number of our decision tools, it becomes critical for users to understand how their new tools work. This article describing the problems with facial recognition software is a great example. It’s not that we should reject such tools out of hand – rather, we need make sure the users understand how the tool works so that it can be deployed in the right situations and use its power to help people become better at their work.
A Chinese detergent ad? Hey now, Youtube!
I’m not going to get all huffy and indignant here (well, to the extent that being here writing about it doesn't count as 'getting huffy and indignant'). This little search engine redirect is hardly An Event, just a result of a generic search tool on a big website. If needed, I'm sure I could even give a decent race-free technical explanation about why my search terms redirected to an unrelated detergent ad. But I suspect somewhere in the logic of linking my search to a Chinese ad is a loose association based on the shared racial grouping of Asian. To some degree, I suppose the logic of search is the logic of racism - both take a starting idea, apply a series of casual associations, and then lump as much as possible under the newly formed umbrella.
I'm not necessarily pointing an accusing finger at Youtube. In terms of its search algorithm, the part I’m referring to – ‘japan’ – likely wasn’t the main reason the search returned a Chinese result. My best guess is that the words ‘racist’ and ‘commercial’ explain most of the result. And although I reject linking ‘japan’ to a Chinese ad, this ad is a huge deal – at the time of writing, it had tens of millions of views. If Youtube gets even the vaguest hint of a reference to such a popular video, it’s going to include it in as many sets of results as possible. When it comes to search, the algorithm is always going to prioritize the most commonly watched videos because the most commonly watched videos are the most likely videos a given user wants to find via search.
This last point, I think, is the most important one. Youtube search is a lot like a mediocre journalist – just as the latter is never going to tell the boss that there is nothing to write about on a given day, Youtube is never going to return a search with an entirely blank page. Therefore, if the search terms don't return exact matches, the search algorithm is going to err on the side of returning a list of popular videos to which it can make any kind of casual association. It’s this reason, and probably this reason only, why my search for a soccer commercial returned a detergent ad.
Search is just like any other tool because understanding how it works makes it more likely to function properly – and less likely to create misunderstandings. No one accuses a hot stove of bigotry any time it burns someone because we all know how a stove works. Of course, there are more serious implications for this idea. As we incorporate advanced software into an ever-increasing number of our decision tools, it becomes critical for users to understand how their new tools work. This article describing the problems with facial recognition software is a great example. It’s not that we should reject such tools out of hand – rather, we need make sure the users understand how the tool works so that it can be deployed in the right situations and use its power to help people become better at their work.
Thursday, June 20, 2019
reading review - sceptical essays
Sceptical Essays by Bertrand Russell (October 2018)
Bertrand Russell’s Skeptical Essays introduced me to the 20th century Englishman’s philosophy and the collection is dense with essays describing many of his most well known ideas. A key section of this work set Russell’s three ground rules for skepticism. First, agree whenever the experts are in unanimous agreement. Second, do not accept any opinion with certainty whenever the experts disagree. And finally, when the experts agree to disagree, suspend your own judgment.
These ground rules helped me apply his insight that thinking is fully free so long as the competition among all beliefs remains open and there are no advantages for holding one belief or another. By understanding how to use the wisdom and knowledge of experts as a reference point, a thinker can efficiently identify the best subjects to apply his or her mental energy. It also helps determine when opposition to a belief is honest from an intellectual perspective because comparing a point of view to the consensus of the experts reveals whether there is any political, social, or selfish benefit for maintaining a certain worldview.
A common theme in these essays is how ideas can shape institutions as a means of building a stronger society. Russell notes that politicians who wish to serve through government must recognize how passions excite people and create energy. A good politician harnesses these passions and helps people funnel them into productive activity without letting people harm themselves (or the politician’s platform).
I compared this thought to a couple other observations to form a conclusion about young politicians. First, the young tend to overestimate their ability to persuade others to act reasonably. Second, in general those who believe in rational opinions ahead of their passions will often completely dismiss the importance of passion as a motivator. I took these thoughts to conclude that the biggest threat to a young (or perhaps just inexperienced) politician’s success is relying too much on logic and not recognizing the importance of connecting to a voter’s passions or feelings.
One up: Russell makes many observations about education that I intend to cover in an upcoming post. For now, I’d like to highlight two of his chief complaints.
First, he notes that memorization is widely known to have no effect on training the memory. He asks - why do we then spend so much time having students memorize? I suppose he answers his own question in another section when he suggests that spelling ability is merely one of many ways a snob separates the educated from the uneducated.
One down: I enjoyed the statement that a belief should be considered true if it helps promote life and achieve our desires. However, I suspect this idea can prove harmful at a community level if individuals rely on it as a central principle to guide their own lives. A community can fight off the selfish impulse baked into the concept by learning to harness group desires ahead of individual urges. A shared lifestyle of harmonious cooperation can result as long as groups place universal dreams, goals, and desires ahead of those of any one individual.
Just saying: The point that modern society respects anyone who works every day without considering the harm certain employers bring to society is an important example of the way our present-day mentality challenges our capacity to succeed in the future. The approach I prefer is to find ways to respect those who do not disappear into a workspace for eight hours every day. This would give those who know best the harm caused by a given employer – the employees – an alternative to their current lifestyle that does not risk disrespect from the surrounding community.
Footnotes / endnote
0. Good men? Apparently, they do a lot of harm...
Although I enjoyed many of his essays, I only chose to reread one, ‘The Harm That Good Men Do’. Somewhat to my surprise, I found I didn’t enjoy it as much on the second pass. I suspect this had to do with how much I enjoyed the fresh quality of Russell’s ideas and the fact that his writing didn’t capture my imagination in the same way once I established familiarity with his thinking.
Bertrand Russell’s Skeptical Essays introduced me to the 20th century Englishman’s philosophy and the collection is dense with essays describing many of his most well known ideas. A key section of this work set Russell’s three ground rules for skepticism. First, agree whenever the experts are in unanimous agreement. Second, do not accept any opinion with certainty whenever the experts disagree. And finally, when the experts agree to disagree, suspend your own judgment.
These ground rules helped me apply his insight that thinking is fully free so long as the competition among all beliefs remains open and there are no advantages for holding one belief or another. By understanding how to use the wisdom and knowledge of experts as a reference point, a thinker can efficiently identify the best subjects to apply his or her mental energy. It also helps determine when opposition to a belief is honest from an intellectual perspective because comparing a point of view to the consensus of the experts reveals whether there is any political, social, or selfish benefit for maintaining a certain worldview.
A common theme in these essays is how ideas can shape institutions as a means of building a stronger society. Russell notes that politicians who wish to serve through government must recognize how passions excite people and create energy. A good politician harnesses these passions and helps people funnel them into productive activity without letting people harm themselves (or the politician’s platform).
I compared this thought to a couple other observations to form a conclusion about young politicians. First, the young tend to overestimate their ability to persuade others to act reasonably. Second, in general those who believe in rational opinions ahead of their passions will often completely dismiss the importance of passion as a motivator. I took these thoughts to conclude that the biggest threat to a young (or perhaps just inexperienced) politician’s success is relying too much on logic and not recognizing the importance of connecting to a voter’s passions or feelings.
One up: Russell makes many observations about education that I intend to cover in an upcoming post. For now, I’d like to highlight two of his chief complaints.
First, he notes that memorization is widely known to have no effect on training the memory. He asks - why do we then spend so much time having students memorize? I suppose he answers his own question in another section when he suggests that spelling ability is merely one of many ways a snob separates the educated from the uneducated.
One down: I enjoyed the statement that a belief should be considered true if it helps promote life and achieve our desires. However, I suspect this idea can prove harmful at a community level if individuals rely on it as a central principle to guide their own lives. A community can fight off the selfish impulse baked into the concept by learning to harness group desires ahead of individual urges. A shared lifestyle of harmonious cooperation can result as long as groups place universal dreams, goals, and desires ahead of those of any one individual.
Just saying: The point that modern society respects anyone who works every day without considering the harm certain employers bring to society is an important example of the way our present-day mentality challenges our capacity to succeed in the future. The approach I prefer is to find ways to respect those who do not disappear into a workspace for eight hours every day. This would give those who know best the harm caused by a given employer – the employees – an alternative to their current lifestyle that does not risk disrespect from the surrounding community.
Footnotes / endnote
0. Good men? Apparently, they do a lot of harm...
Although I enjoyed many of his essays, I only chose to reread one, ‘The Harm That Good Men Do’. Somewhat to my surprise, I found I didn’t enjoy it as much on the second pass. I suspect this had to do with how much I enjoyed the fresh quality of Russell’s ideas and the fact that his writing didn’t capture my imagination in the same way once I established familiarity with his thinking.
Wednesday, June 19, 2019
the 2018 toa book award – preliminary round, part two
Hi,
Today’s eliminations are books that I felt contained great insights yet remained difficult works for me to relate to given the experiences that formed the foundations of these works. This is a consistent challenge for any reader, of course, and one of my long-term reading goals is to become better at absorbing such books. For now, I struggle on, accepting that although there is nothing wrong with enjoying books I relate to, there is much untapped wisdom for me if I learn to reach a similar understanding with books that do not speak so directly to my experiences (1).
The Raqqa Diaries by Samer (February 2018)
This astonishing book somehow emerged from Syria despite the constant oppression of Daesh. Samer’s book is an easy read from a technical perspective but there is hardly a light syllable in its pages. I consider this among a class of books that is especially important for voracious readers and thinkers because this type of book reminds us that what we so often consider as ‘in the past’ has no bearing on whether similar events can happen ‘right now’. The Raqqa Diaries proves something important – just because it’s in a history book doesn’t mean the event can never happen again, or that it stopped happening at all. We in the present cannot become complacent with progress so long as others in the world are denied basic human rights as an indirect consequence of our inaction, ignorance, or indifference.
Parting thought: Is it really the Islamic State?
I clarified my thoughts in this post.
The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin (September 2018)
It took me a long time to put together a reading review about this work. At its basic level, Baldwin wrote this book to consider his experiences in the context of the USA’s ongoing struggle with bigotry, prejudice, and injustice. More generally speaking, the book’s release in the early years of the civil rights movement combined with Baldwin’s prose, perspective, and profile place this among the great works of American literature. Baldwin’s themes about the legacy of racism remains very much a central concern for millions of my fellow Americans and this will remain the case indefinitely until people act on one of this book’s most important ideas – the great challenge of changing the status quo is to convince those who benefit from it to nevertheless do what they know is right and just.
Parting thought: America has never dealt with problems until they become politically necessary.
I tried to analyze this thought from a number of perspectives but quickly discovered that each new line of investigation led me into messy dead ends crowded with contradictions and exceptions.
I must admit that this thought has come to me from time to time since last September, mostly in the context of politicized issues that to me have no hope of a political resolution. I suspect people think of debate as a prelude to a resolution but I disagree with this point of view because I believe a debate is usually a way to pass the time during a spell of inaction. For me, political necessity means one of two things - either one party deals with a problem as a way to get with the times or both parties come together to redirect resources toward common goals that emerge from existing consensus. Those interested in progress should look for these opportunities and strike while the iron is hot rather than worry over, say, what an opponent who rides around in private jets has to say about climate change.
Footnotes
1. How I related to past TOA Book Award winners
Pachinko spoke to me because I found its insight into the influence of Japanese culture on native outsiders matched certain perceptions, intuitions, and experiences I had regarding the same topic. Eureka Street was a little trickier but it helped that the protagonist was my age and maintained certain self-doubts and internal dialogue that felt familiar to me. I relate to many of the leadership and management books I read because they often seem to be describing my personality, worldview, or past behaviors.
Today’s eliminations are books that I felt contained great insights yet remained difficult works for me to relate to given the experiences that formed the foundations of these works. This is a consistent challenge for any reader, of course, and one of my long-term reading goals is to become better at absorbing such books. For now, I struggle on, accepting that although there is nothing wrong with enjoying books I relate to, there is much untapped wisdom for me if I learn to reach a similar understanding with books that do not speak so directly to my experiences (1).
The Raqqa Diaries by Samer (February 2018)
This astonishing book somehow emerged from Syria despite the constant oppression of Daesh. Samer’s book is an easy read from a technical perspective but there is hardly a light syllable in its pages. I consider this among a class of books that is especially important for voracious readers and thinkers because this type of book reminds us that what we so often consider as ‘in the past’ has no bearing on whether similar events can happen ‘right now’. The Raqqa Diaries proves something important – just because it’s in a history book doesn’t mean the event can never happen again, or that it stopped happening at all. We in the present cannot become complacent with progress so long as others in the world are denied basic human rights as an indirect consequence of our inaction, ignorance, or indifference.
Parting thought: Is it really the Islamic State?
I clarified my thoughts in this post.
The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin (September 2018)
It took me a long time to put together a reading review about this work. At its basic level, Baldwin wrote this book to consider his experiences in the context of the USA’s ongoing struggle with bigotry, prejudice, and injustice. More generally speaking, the book’s release in the early years of the civil rights movement combined with Baldwin’s prose, perspective, and profile place this among the great works of American literature. Baldwin’s themes about the legacy of racism remains very much a central concern for millions of my fellow Americans and this will remain the case indefinitely until people act on one of this book’s most important ideas – the great challenge of changing the status quo is to convince those who benefit from it to nevertheless do what they know is right and just.
Parting thought: America has never dealt with problems until they become politically necessary.
I tried to analyze this thought from a number of perspectives but quickly discovered that each new line of investigation led me into messy dead ends crowded with contradictions and exceptions.
I must admit that this thought has come to me from time to time since last September, mostly in the context of politicized issues that to me have no hope of a political resolution. I suspect people think of debate as a prelude to a resolution but I disagree with this point of view because I believe a debate is usually a way to pass the time during a spell of inaction. For me, political necessity means one of two things - either one party deals with a problem as a way to get with the times or both parties come together to redirect resources toward common goals that emerge from existing consensus. Those interested in progress should look for these opportunities and strike while the iron is hot rather than worry over, say, what an opponent who rides around in private jets has to say about climate change.
Footnotes
1. How I related to past TOA Book Award winners
Pachinko spoke to me because I found its insight into the influence of Japanese culture on native outsiders matched certain perceptions, intuitions, and experiences I had regarding the same topic. Eureka Street was a little trickier but it helped that the protagonist was my age and maintained certain self-doubts and internal dialogue that felt familiar to me. I relate to many of the leadership and management books I read because they often seem to be describing my personality, worldview, or past behaviors.
Tuesday, June 18, 2019
reading review - twilight of the assholes (riff offs)
Let’s wrap up my look at Tim Kreider’s Twilight of the Assholes with a few quick riffs on some leftover ideas from the work.
A basic function of art is to let others know – you aren’t alone and that there are others like you out there.
This comment made me think about a play on the concept of ‘target audience’. The expression implies one person or group to which an artist intends to present the work. However, in satire I think it works more like a ‘target’ and an ‘audience’ – the target is depicted in the satire while the audience is anyone brought together by their shared support and enjoyment of the work.
It’s the second part that applies to this idea – ‘others like you’ are the people in the audience who share the same perspective about the target of the satire.
A major challenge for political satirists is to make sure today’s parody isn’t outstripped by the absurdity of tomorrow’s reality.
Kreider wrote this ten years ago. I think it’s held up.
Warmongers tend to avoid asking the question about war that they earnestly ask of social welfare programs – where’s the money going to come from?
This might be broadly true – some warmongers surely ignore the finances until after the agreement to fund a war. But I don’t think this is a feature unique to warmongers. I’ve noticed a similar trend among those who push for social welfare programs – their activism seeks first to create the program before working out the funding.
Humans have always been too weak-willed to give up on their vices and no human institution in over five thousand years has been able to do a thing about it.
Most people go to rehab once things hit rock bottom, the moment they realize things are as bad as they are going to get.
These notes highlight the danger of generalization – a semi-truth is stated in vague terms that seem to apply on first pass and therefore encourage people to simply agree and move on. But these kinds of statements can be easily refuted by anyone who has more than a passing familiarity with the underlying details. Sure, I can relate to the feeling of wanting to lie on the couch instead of studying but this doesn’t mean I should nod along when someone dismisses our educational system’s success in teaching millions of students. And just because I don’t personally know someone who has struggled to stick with a rehab program doesn’t give me permission to agree with a characterization that everyone suffering with addiction follows the same bottom-up pattern to getting help.
It’s possible my anti-generalization conclusion is somewhat ironic given that it’s based on my experience reading a collection of political cartoons. It could also be the intended conclusion given the routine way politicians use stereotypes and caricatures to create support for their policies.
The future is uncertain but one thing seems guaranteed – Americans won’t be able to continue living the way we do now, each person an unashamed consumer living an unsustainable consumer lifestyle.
The question we rarely ask about consumerism is the return on investment – for a given use of a finite resource, what do we collectively gain in return? A mindless resistance to all forms of excess will be just as bad as insatiably gobbling up everything in sight like a nation of free market PacMans. If chopping down a forest or rendering a species extinct pushes our disease research forward, we probably have to do it.
There is a technical side to the thought as well – maybe not all Americans will be able to maintain this lifestyle but surely some will. This has always been true to a certain extent. Even today, only some Americans consume endlessly – many others are constrained by the limits of their poverty.
Don’t jump little boy, don’t jump off that roof, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you you’re still in your youth… I’d give anything to have skin like you…
We seem much better at finding the worst things about our lives than we do at finding silver linings. Why not work for small victories instead? At the very least, we’ll develop the resilience needed to forge onward during difficult times.
What?
Well…
OK, fine, that last thought is from Courtney Barnett’s ‘Elevator Operator’. But who better to end a riff off?
Thanks for reading.
A basic function of art is to let others know – you aren’t alone and that there are others like you out there.
This comment made me think about a play on the concept of ‘target audience’. The expression implies one person or group to which an artist intends to present the work. However, in satire I think it works more like a ‘target’ and an ‘audience’ – the target is depicted in the satire while the audience is anyone brought together by their shared support and enjoyment of the work.
It’s the second part that applies to this idea – ‘others like you’ are the people in the audience who share the same perspective about the target of the satire.
A major challenge for political satirists is to make sure today’s parody isn’t outstripped by the absurdity of tomorrow’s reality.
Kreider wrote this ten years ago. I think it’s held up.
Warmongers tend to avoid asking the question about war that they earnestly ask of social welfare programs – where’s the money going to come from?
This might be broadly true – some warmongers surely ignore the finances until after the agreement to fund a war. But I don’t think this is a feature unique to warmongers. I’ve noticed a similar trend among those who push for social welfare programs – their activism seeks first to create the program before working out the funding.
Humans have always been too weak-willed to give up on their vices and no human institution in over five thousand years has been able to do a thing about it.
Most people go to rehab once things hit rock bottom, the moment they realize things are as bad as they are going to get.
These notes highlight the danger of generalization – a semi-truth is stated in vague terms that seem to apply on first pass and therefore encourage people to simply agree and move on. But these kinds of statements can be easily refuted by anyone who has more than a passing familiarity with the underlying details. Sure, I can relate to the feeling of wanting to lie on the couch instead of studying but this doesn’t mean I should nod along when someone dismisses our educational system’s success in teaching millions of students. And just because I don’t personally know someone who has struggled to stick with a rehab program doesn’t give me permission to agree with a characterization that everyone suffering with addiction follows the same bottom-up pattern to getting help.
It’s possible my anti-generalization conclusion is somewhat ironic given that it’s based on my experience reading a collection of political cartoons. It could also be the intended conclusion given the routine way politicians use stereotypes and caricatures to create support for their policies.
The future is uncertain but one thing seems guaranteed – Americans won’t be able to continue living the way we do now, each person an unashamed consumer living an unsustainable consumer lifestyle.
The question we rarely ask about consumerism is the return on investment – for a given use of a finite resource, what do we collectively gain in return? A mindless resistance to all forms of excess will be just as bad as insatiably gobbling up everything in sight like a nation of free market PacMans. If chopping down a forest or rendering a species extinct pushes our disease research forward, we probably have to do it.
There is a technical side to the thought as well – maybe not all Americans will be able to maintain this lifestyle but surely some will. This has always been true to a certain extent. Even today, only some Americans consume endlessly – many others are constrained by the limits of their poverty.
Don’t jump little boy, don’t jump off that roof, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you you’re still in your youth… I’d give anything to have skin like you…
We seem much better at finding the worst things about our lives than we do at finding silver linings. Why not work for small victories instead? At the very least, we’ll develop the resilience needed to forge onward during difficult times.
What?
Well…
OK, fine, that last thought is from Courtney Barnett’s ‘Elevator Operator’. But who better to end a riff off?
Thanks for reading.
Monday, June 17, 2019
leftovers (the problem with history books)
I made a point in this post about people being upset at wealth accumulated for no obvious reason. Historically speaking, when people accumulated wealth for doing no obviously productive work, the results were far bloodier than a bunch of folks choosing to live in a tent on a Wall Street sidewalk for a few months. A couple centuries ago, the French went straight to the guillotines. I wonder what they would have said about our peaceful protests?
My trivial editorial comments aside, the point about wealth accumulated for no reason is that this creates pressure on a society to find new ways to redistribute wealth. It’s not a trivial issue. Historically speaking, failures to redistribute wealth have led to war or revolt. I like our modern-day alternative to rolling out the guillotines: taxation. Occupy Wall Street contended that a banker earning a massive bonus from a bank during the biggest bank-induced financial crisis of all-time was evidence of a systemic failure. I think the protest made a good point. But if such bonuses were taxed at, say, 90%, would anyone have bothered to protest?
It’s sometimes hard to untangle a protest of the system with a protest of its failures. If you are the sort who feels no person should ever earn $20 million dollars, you are protesting the system. If you are the sort who feels someone who earns $20 million should be taxed at 90% marginal income tax, then you are protesting the failure of the system. I think there’s a reason why Occupy Wall Street protested the system rather than the failures – it’s far easier to protest a system than the failures.
Footnotes / one last thought...
1. No, I'm not running yet...
In fact, someone who goes out to protest marginal tax rates isn’t far off from running for office – gather a few signatures, print a few bumper stickers, and suddenly the protester has launched a campaign. I suppose this is another reason to protest a system rather than its failures - it seems like an awful lot of work to run for office.
My trivial editorial comments aside, the point about wealth accumulated for no reason is that this creates pressure on a society to find new ways to redistribute wealth. It’s not a trivial issue. Historically speaking, failures to redistribute wealth have led to war or revolt. I like our modern-day alternative to rolling out the guillotines: taxation. Occupy Wall Street contended that a banker earning a massive bonus from a bank during the biggest bank-induced financial crisis of all-time was evidence of a systemic failure. I think the protest made a good point. But if such bonuses were taxed at, say, 90%, would anyone have bothered to protest?
It’s sometimes hard to untangle a protest of the system with a protest of its failures. If you are the sort who feels no person should ever earn $20 million dollars, you are protesting the system. If you are the sort who feels someone who earns $20 million should be taxed at 90% marginal income tax, then you are protesting the failure of the system. I think there’s a reason why Occupy Wall Street protested the system rather than the failures – it’s far easier to protest a system than the failures.
Footnotes / one last thought...
1. No, I'm not running yet...
In fact, someone who goes out to protest marginal tax rates isn’t far off from running for office – gather a few signatures, print a few bumper stickers, and suddenly the protester has launched a campaign. I suppose this is another reason to protest a system rather than its failures - it seems like an awful lot of work to run for office.
Labels:
toa nonsense
Sunday, June 16, 2019
leftovers – true, false, racist, or… not funny?
I thought I would stop by today to follow up on this post and assess whether a recent incident fits into its framework.
Today’s high profile example comes from Heinekin. Back in the day, I enjoyed drinking both Heinekin and Heinekin Light. Those were probably among the first six packs I ever purchased. My tastes evolved quickly and I soon stopped drinking Green Beer except on major holidays like Saint Patrick’s Day. However, I continued to get a kick out of their sensationally silly commercials during UEFA Champions League soccer games. Recently, the Heinekin marketing department seems to have moved on from soccer nonsense based on this article that suggests the beer company is now producing thoughtful content for our times (at least according to those who feel commercials represent some important barometer about society).
Then… this happened.
The response was predictable – tweets, articles, posts, you name it, everyone in a mad rush to win the latest round of Spot The Racist. I gave brief consideration to how this commercial fit into my framework but I quickly realized that it didn’t fit at all. My premise was that an individual can say racist things as a sad consequence of failing at humor but a company is incapable of failing at humor in this way. At Heineken, I imagine humor is manufactured just like anything else at a large company. First, someone has an idea. Then, this idea is subjected to a long process involving committees, meetings, and discussions. Finally, there is a QA step, or something like it, and maybe the product makes it onto some bigwig's desk who makes a final decision about whether it will make it into the light of day.
This means that over the long process of turning this idea into a commercial, some unknown but presumably significant number of people looked it over and gave their feedback. Any one of these people could have said ‘we cannot run this ad, unless we’re racists’. If someone had brought this simple fact into the discussion, it would have been incredibly difficult for others who may have felt the same way to remain silent. This didn't happen, for whatever reason, and that's why the commercial happened. These hypothetical people who failed to raise the issue weren't trying to be funny - they just didn't point out that the commercial might be a problem (or failed to point it out to the right people). In fact, this extended, deliberate process is almost entirely the opposite of my framework because when an individual says something racist in a futile attempt at humor, the individual never sits on the comment for months at a time - it comes flying right out in the briefest moment of misguided impulse.
My above conclusion, nice and neat as it is, doesn't clearly state what I feel is an important fact, so here it is - Heineken isn't a racist company. Or perhaps, I should say that this ad doesn't state anything conclusive about whether Heineken is a racist company. All it demonstrates is that Heineken is a huge company, one full of people who apparently cannot identify a problematic product in its pipeline. This is hardly a case of blatant racism but rather one of significant incompetence, and such incompetence at the corporate level is pretty frequent from my point of view. Isn't this why the helmet football league still has a team called the Redskins?
I have this thought pretty regularly these days - what is commonly ascribed to negative intent is often better explained as incompetence. And to take it a step further, it seems like most large organizations are bound to succumb to mass incompetence at some point or another. If incompetence is preordained, what should these large organizations do? I've got a wild idea - how about achieving some diversity in hiring results? It isn't a massive stretch to think that this commercial likely came out of a room with very little racial diversity (1). Quite frankly, I'm struggling to come up with many other viable explanations. It’s not like the CEOs of these companies come into work every day and announce that the goal is to hire one token minority a year – it’s more like the company isn’t talented enough to overcome the bias prevalent in recruiting and therefore ends up with the same type of people it hired the last time. It is, I suppose, just like any other negative outcome for a large organization - yet another manifestation of incompetence.
Footnotes / speculation...
0. I guess drinking too many Heinekens is also an explanation?
When I wrote the post about how I thought a lot of racist moments were explainable by someone’s failed attempt at humor, I should have emphasized the key word – someone. The framework applies to individuals, not multinational beer corporations. The interval between a person’s idea and that person’s mouth can be as short as a millisecond. Even if an individual carefully considers his or her words, it seems entirely natural to me that such an individual might fail to recognize an interpretation of an idea that will come off as insensitive. And if humor is involved, forget it. The rewards for being considered funny are so high and the shelf life of comedy so short that I’m certain unfunny people making inadvertently racist comments in their clumsy attempts at humor will long remain the cost of an ever-integrating and globalizing world. A company doesn't have this excuse - it takes so long to do anything that letting something 'slip' is hardly an acceptable explanation for this sort of error.
1. I included this thought here because I don't actually know about Heineken's diversity...
I've heard lately that the evidence of diverse teams producing 'better outcomes' is considered flimsy in certain very well regarded circles. I can see why this might be the case. It's hard enough to measure work as it is - how could someone measure performance by a 'diverse' team and compare it against a team of lesser diversity? Where is the control group? And yet, I can't help but think that it's examples like this that prove the point. Sure, maybe for a company like Heineken most of their work is completed equally well regardless of a given team or department's diversity. But I have a feeling this one PR blunder undid a lot of good work. It's possible the fiasco led some once loyal customers to boycott its products for life. It might be the case that the evidence of diversity leading to better work is flimsy, but I think it's hard to gather clear evidence about the types of blunders such teams might naturally avoid.
Today’s high profile example comes from Heinekin. Back in the day, I enjoyed drinking both Heinekin and Heinekin Light. Those were probably among the first six packs I ever purchased. My tastes evolved quickly and I soon stopped drinking Green Beer except on major holidays like Saint Patrick’s Day. However, I continued to get a kick out of their sensationally silly commercials during UEFA Champions League soccer games. Recently, the Heinekin marketing department seems to have moved on from soccer nonsense based on this article that suggests the beer company is now producing thoughtful content for our times (at least according to those who feel commercials represent some important barometer about society).
Then… this happened.
The response was predictable – tweets, articles, posts, you name it, everyone in a mad rush to win the latest round of Spot The Racist. I gave brief consideration to how this commercial fit into my framework but I quickly realized that it didn’t fit at all. My premise was that an individual can say racist things as a sad consequence of failing at humor but a company is incapable of failing at humor in this way. At Heineken, I imagine humor is manufactured just like anything else at a large company. First, someone has an idea. Then, this idea is subjected to a long process involving committees, meetings, and discussions. Finally, there is a QA step, or something like it, and maybe the product makes it onto some bigwig's desk who makes a final decision about whether it will make it into the light of day.
This means that over the long process of turning this idea into a commercial, some unknown but presumably significant number of people looked it over and gave their feedback. Any one of these people could have said ‘we cannot run this ad, unless we’re racists’. If someone had brought this simple fact into the discussion, it would have been incredibly difficult for others who may have felt the same way to remain silent. This didn't happen, for whatever reason, and that's why the commercial happened. These hypothetical people who failed to raise the issue weren't trying to be funny - they just didn't point out that the commercial might be a problem (or failed to point it out to the right people). In fact, this extended, deliberate process is almost entirely the opposite of my framework because when an individual says something racist in a futile attempt at humor, the individual never sits on the comment for months at a time - it comes flying right out in the briefest moment of misguided impulse.
My above conclusion, nice and neat as it is, doesn't clearly state what I feel is an important fact, so here it is - Heineken isn't a racist company. Or perhaps, I should say that this ad doesn't state anything conclusive about whether Heineken is a racist company. All it demonstrates is that Heineken is a huge company, one full of people who apparently cannot identify a problematic product in its pipeline. This is hardly a case of blatant racism but rather one of significant incompetence, and such incompetence at the corporate level is pretty frequent from my point of view. Isn't this why the helmet football league still has a team called the Redskins?
I have this thought pretty regularly these days - what is commonly ascribed to negative intent is often better explained as incompetence. And to take it a step further, it seems like most large organizations are bound to succumb to mass incompetence at some point or another. If incompetence is preordained, what should these large organizations do? I've got a wild idea - how about achieving some diversity in hiring results? It isn't a massive stretch to think that this commercial likely came out of a room with very little racial diversity (1). Quite frankly, I'm struggling to come up with many other viable explanations. It’s not like the CEOs of these companies come into work every day and announce that the goal is to hire one token minority a year – it’s more like the company isn’t talented enough to overcome the bias prevalent in recruiting and therefore ends up with the same type of people it hired the last time. It is, I suppose, just like any other negative outcome for a large organization - yet another manifestation of incompetence.
Footnotes / speculation...
0. I guess drinking too many Heinekens is also an explanation?
When I wrote the post about how I thought a lot of racist moments were explainable by someone’s failed attempt at humor, I should have emphasized the key word – someone. The framework applies to individuals, not multinational beer corporations. The interval between a person’s idea and that person’s mouth can be as short as a millisecond. Even if an individual carefully considers his or her words, it seems entirely natural to me that such an individual might fail to recognize an interpretation of an idea that will come off as insensitive. And if humor is involved, forget it. The rewards for being considered funny are so high and the shelf life of comedy so short that I’m certain unfunny people making inadvertently racist comments in their clumsy attempts at humor will long remain the cost of an ever-integrating and globalizing world. A company doesn't have this excuse - it takes so long to do anything that letting something 'slip' is hardly an acceptable explanation for this sort of error.
I've heard lately that the evidence of diverse teams producing 'better outcomes' is considered flimsy in certain very well regarded circles. I can see why this might be the case. It's hard enough to measure work as it is - how could someone measure performance by a 'diverse' team and compare it against a team of lesser diversity? Where is the control group? And yet, I can't help but think that it's examples like this that prove the point. Sure, maybe for a company like Heineken most of their work is completed equally well regardless of a given team or department's diversity. But I have a feeling this one PR blunder undid a lot of good work. It's possible the fiasco led some once loyal customers to boycott its products for life. It might be the case that the evidence of diversity leading to better work is flimsy, but I think it's hard to gather clear evidence about the types of blunders such teams might naturally avoid.
Saturday, June 15, 2019
fortune cookie power ratings (part 4)
Howdy reader,
Let’s roll through a couple more of the fortunes I’ve held onto for the past few years.
Your ability to love will help a child in need.
I can imagine this fortune leading to a contented diner becoming overwhelmed by emotion – such is the effect of inspiring words interacting with a stomach full of Peking ravioli. However, I’m here to put the brakes on this one purely for child welfare reasons – prescribing ‘love’ as The Ideal Solution overlooks the effectiveness of food, clothing, shelter, and many other tangible things in terms of meeting a child’s needs.
True, False, or Racist?
False. May I continue my rant?
I also think this fortune needlessly divides people into groups called ‘children’ and ‘not children’. Why can’t love help an adult in need? The short answer is that it can. The fortune simply plays on the relative fear we have of adults that we do not have of children. We think of children as helpless but the better term is powerless – a child is simply less capable of hurting us than an adult and we therefore have less fear of a child. This is a good instinct, I think, but it’s useless in the context of simply helping others in need because I do not think our fear of being hurt should influence our decisions in this regard. It’s hard to help anyone without risking something. We should simply try to help, acknowledge the inherent risk, and accept the results – even if those results are not obviously helpful.
Keep it or chuck it?
Keep it.
The fortune isn’t perfect but I think the complexity of the underlying idea is a critical consideration.
There’s no boosting a man up the ladder unless he’s willing to climb.
It seems like we have a bit of a theme today! My position here remains the same – we should try to help people. As long as it’s advantageous to move up the ladder, we should risk what we can afford to help others move up.
True, False, or Racist?
False. I can think of a million reasons why someone might be unwilling to climb up a ladder. What if his leg hurts? What if it goes against her religion? What if it’s windy? Someone watching this scene could think up a really cute story – well gee, so and so isn’t willing to climb, so I won’t boost him. Narratives are an obviously important part of what we do here on our little blue planet but I will be the first to tell you that we all waste a lot of time inventing stories that ascribe interesting, malicious, or unlikely explanations to observed behavior.
Keep it or chuck it?
Chuck it – this was arguably my least favorite fortune.
Let’s roll through a couple more of the fortunes I’ve held onto for the past few years.
Your ability to love will help a child in need.
I can imagine this fortune leading to a contented diner becoming overwhelmed by emotion – such is the effect of inspiring words interacting with a stomach full of Peking ravioli. However, I’m here to put the brakes on this one purely for child welfare reasons – prescribing ‘love’ as The Ideal Solution overlooks the effectiveness of food, clothing, shelter, and many other tangible things in terms of meeting a child’s needs.
True, False, or Racist?
False. May I continue my rant?
I also think this fortune needlessly divides people into groups called ‘children’ and ‘not children’. Why can’t love help an adult in need? The short answer is that it can. The fortune simply plays on the relative fear we have of adults that we do not have of children. We think of children as helpless but the better term is powerless – a child is simply less capable of hurting us than an adult and we therefore have less fear of a child. This is a good instinct, I think, but it’s useless in the context of simply helping others in need because I do not think our fear of being hurt should influence our decisions in this regard. It’s hard to help anyone without risking something. We should simply try to help, acknowledge the inherent risk, and accept the results – even if those results are not obviously helpful.
Keep it or chuck it?
Keep it.
The fortune isn’t perfect but I think the complexity of the underlying idea is a critical consideration.
There’s no boosting a man up the ladder unless he’s willing to climb.
It seems like we have a bit of a theme today! My position here remains the same – we should try to help people. As long as it’s advantageous to move up the ladder, we should risk what we can afford to help others move up.
True, False, or Racist?
False. I can think of a million reasons why someone might be unwilling to climb up a ladder. What if his leg hurts? What if it goes against her religion? What if it’s windy? Someone watching this scene could think up a really cute story – well gee, so and so isn’t willing to climb, so I won’t boost him. Narratives are an obviously important part of what we do here on our little blue planet but I will be the first to tell you that we all waste a lot of time inventing stories that ascribe interesting, malicious, or unlikely explanations to observed behavior.
Keep it or chuck it?
Chuck it – this was arguably my least favorite fortune.
Friday, June 14, 2019
proper admin extensions – fitness update
In the first week of May, I ordered new running shoes from Amazon. I was patiently waiting for my package when I started receiving ‘urgent’ emails from the supplier (can you rate our product, please leave a review, blah blah blah). I eventually got the hint that maybe my sneakers were supposed to have been delivered. I got in touch with Amazon help via real time online chat and was stunned by how quickly they refunded my money. I’m not sure what happened – maybe they oversold the product, maybe they just have a policy to give money back ASAP, maybe they are just the richest thing since Richie – but though I have my refund, I’ve yet to order another pair.
My new workout routine has been going well despite the lack of footwear reinforcements. One key component is a short body weight workout I do on non-running days. These take about ten minutes total if I focus on transitioning quickly from one exercise to the next. What I’ve started to realize is that all those infomercial-type claims I once dismissed – sculpt your body in just eight minutes a day, reach peak fitness with just five minutes on machine X, and so on – might have some merit after all. I think the key is simply finding the right workout for your specific needs and giving the workout your full focus throughout.
Finally, I’ve been rolling out this little gem I cooked up – you can’t have your six pack and drink it, too. I’ve been getting a great response to this quip. It’s a good null hypothesis for sure but like any professional scientist I must attempt to refute it – for now, I consider my current fitness routine my first test of this theory.
My new workout routine has been going well despite the lack of footwear reinforcements. One key component is a short body weight workout I do on non-running days. These take about ten minutes total if I focus on transitioning quickly from one exercise to the next. What I’ve started to realize is that all those infomercial-type claims I once dismissed – sculpt your body in just eight minutes a day, reach peak fitness with just five minutes on machine X, and so on – might have some merit after all. I think the key is simply finding the right workout for your specific needs and giving the workout your full focus throughout.
Finally, I’ve been rolling out this little gem I cooked up – you can’t have your six pack and drink it, too. I’ve been getting a great response to this quip. It’s a good null hypothesis for sure but like any professional scientist I must attempt to refute it – for now, I consider my current fitness routine my first test of this theory.
Labels:
toa newsletter
Thursday, June 13, 2019
reading review - the mixer
The Mixer by Michael Cox (January 2019)
Michael Cox details how tactics in English soccer have changed over the past quarter century in this fascinating 2017 book. As I try to do with any sports book, I found myself paying close attention for any hint of general concepts that I could apply to a larger context beyond the world of sports.
The major theme of The Mixer is change. Cox identifies the biggest challenge of change as learning how to accept and include different types of people. The key is to incorporate valuable new ideas without compromising crucial core values. England’s soccer culture, for example, has always valued visible hard work and commitment – a player vainly chasing the ball at top speed for seventy-five yards is always going to bring a huge roar from the crowd. The influx of foreign talent introduced new types of players who were valued for their flair or tactical discipline instead of obvious displays of energy, grit, and self-sacrifice. Teams that attempted to assimilate this foreign talent saw mixed results – those that adapted their playing style flourished while teams that could not incorporate new playing styles into their existing club structure were among those that suffered poor results.
A subtler element of change is how it brings together competing definitions for a role, function, or responsibility. A good example might be job descriptions for police officers in different parts of the world. Those who will patrol safe and thriving neighborhoods are likely to require a different set of skills and experiences than those who will protect and serve in the planet’s most dangerous corners. These differences must be considered carefully by change agents because two people with experience doing the same job might have vastly contrasting interpretations of the role. A great soccer example is the fullback. In Brazil, the fullback is considered as much a wide attacker as a defender. A manager that signs a player who developed in the Brazilian system must therefore do his homework and confirm the player’s defensive capability if he requires a fullback capable of solidifying a wide area in the defense.
My favorite observation from the book was about Eric Cantona, the mercurial Frenchman who signed for Manchester United and served as the catalyst for the club’s ascent to the pinnacle of the English game. He immediately demonstrated his desire to improve by often staying on the practice field for extra training. The concept of extra practice was not new to his fellow professionals, of course, but the sight of such a highly valued and respected player giving the extra effort set a massive example. In a way, Cantona made it acceptable for others to continue working despite the manager’s declaration that training was over. Those who demand change in others must always remember to set the right example because the inertia of familiarity, habit, and social proof are often the most significant barriers to real change and progress.
One up: As far as specific managerial techniques go, I thought the note about Arsene Wenger choosing to replace departing players by tweaking the roles of remaining players was a brilliant insight. In theory, a like-for-like replacement is the surest way to ensure continued success (and might be the best practice for, say, a departing goalkeeper) but in practice the goal of finding another player just like the one who left is a hopeless task, one that reeks of a fear of change, and a sure way of starting a club down the path toward stagnation.
One down: Cox notes that innovators will become the victim of their own success if they sit and wait for others to copy their methods. This is a fair assertion. However, it makes me wonder – if someone innovated once, why wouldn’t they just innovate again? The more I think about it, the more confusing it is that so many of yesterday’s innovators become today’s dinosaurs (and eventually, dinner for tomorrow’s innovators).
Just saying: Most casual soccer fans – and perhaps a significant portion of those in the game – think of soccer as being about offense or defense. Jurgen Klopp disagreed and built his entire philosophy around dominating two additional phases of play – the transitions to and from offense and defense. He felt that if his teams could dominate these phases of play, they would regularly create goal scoring chances against disorganized defenses. I attribute his success over the past two decades to this insight about transitions and the way he applied his knowledge to train teams that create, amplify, and thrive in this chaos.
What I like the most about Klopp’s logic is the clear and simple thought process – if transition brings chaos and chaos means disorganized defenses, the team that thrives in chaos will have a significant advantage. I’ve noticed this kind of clarity when I examine success in other areas. The underlying skill is the ability to break big problems down into as many component parts as necessary before fully attacking the most important or valuable opportunities.
Michael Cox details how tactics in English soccer have changed over the past quarter century in this fascinating 2017 book. As I try to do with any sports book, I found myself paying close attention for any hint of general concepts that I could apply to a larger context beyond the world of sports.
The major theme of The Mixer is change. Cox identifies the biggest challenge of change as learning how to accept and include different types of people. The key is to incorporate valuable new ideas without compromising crucial core values. England’s soccer culture, for example, has always valued visible hard work and commitment – a player vainly chasing the ball at top speed for seventy-five yards is always going to bring a huge roar from the crowd. The influx of foreign talent introduced new types of players who were valued for their flair or tactical discipline instead of obvious displays of energy, grit, and self-sacrifice. Teams that attempted to assimilate this foreign talent saw mixed results – those that adapted their playing style flourished while teams that could not incorporate new playing styles into their existing club structure were among those that suffered poor results.
A subtler element of change is how it brings together competing definitions for a role, function, or responsibility. A good example might be job descriptions for police officers in different parts of the world. Those who will patrol safe and thriving neighborhoods are likely to require a different set of skills and experiences than those who will protect and serve in the planet’s most dangerous corners. These differences must be considered carefully by change agents because two people with experience doing the same job might have vastly contrasting interpretations of the role. A great soccer example is the fullback. In Brazil, the fullback is considered as much a wide attacker as a defender. A manager that signs a player who developed in the Brazilian system must therefore do his homework and confirm the player’s defensive capability if he requires a fullback capable of solidifying a wide area in the defense.
My favorite observation from the book was about Eric Cantona, the mercurial Frenchman who signed for Manchester United and served as the catalyst for the club’s ascent to the pinnacle of the English game. He immediately demonstrated his desire to improve by often staying on the practice field for extra training. The concept of extra practice was not new to his fellow professionals, of course, but the sight of such a highly valued and respected player giving the extra effort set a massive example. In a way, Cantona made it acceptable for others to continue working despite the manager’s declaration that training was over. Those who demand change in others must always remember to set the right example because the inertia of familiarity, habit, and social proof are often the most significant barriers to real change and progress.
One up: As far as specific managerial techniques go, I thought the note about Arsene Wenger choosing to replace departing players by tweaking the roles of remaining players was a brilliant insight. In theory, a like-for-like replacement is the surest way to ensure continued success (and might be the best practice for, say, a departing goalkeeper) but in practice the goal of finding another player just like the one who left is a hopeless task, one that reeks of a fear of change, and a sure way of starting a club down the path toward stagnation.
One down: Cox notes that innovators will become the victim of their own success if they sit and wait for others to copy their methods. This is a fair assertion. However, it makes me wonder – if someone innovated once, why wouldn’t they just innovate again? The more I think about it, the more confusing it is that so many of yesterday’s innovators become today’s dinosaurs (and eventually, dinner for tomorrow’s innovators).
Just saying: Most casual soccer fans – and perhaps a significant portion of those in the game – think of soccer as being about offense or defense. Jurgen Klopp disagreed and built his entire philosophy around dominating two additional phases of play – the transitions to and from offense and defense. He felt that if his teams could dominate these phases of play, they would regularly create goal scoring chances against disorganized defenses. I attribute his success over the past two decades to this insight about transitions and the way he applied his knowledge to train teams that create, amplify, and thrive in this chaos.
What I like the most about Klopp’s logic is the clear and simple thought process – if transition brings chaos and chaos means disorganized defenses, the team that thrives in chaos will have a significant advantage. I’ve noticed this kind of clarity when I examine success in other areas. The underlying skill is the ability to break big problems down into as many component parts as necessary before fully attacking the most important or valuable opportunities.
Labels:
books - the mixer
Wednesday, June 12, 2019
leftovers #1.1 – the toa newsletter, may 2019 (the murder case)
I wrote just a couple of days ago about being stopped by the state police back in January and how it played to certain anxieties I simply couldn't banish from my mind no matter how logically or reasonably I thought about the interaction. About a month ago, I had a less direct interaction with the police that suggested my reaction had much more to do with the mere fact of interacting with the police than it did with any particular aspect of the conversation I had on that January night.
This second interaction was a 911 call (my first one ever) I made after pulling my bike over to the side of First Street in Cambridge. I reported smoke coming out of a trash barrel back on Cambridge Street, located about a block behind me as I made the call. It wasn't a ton of smoke, perhaps not quite enough to catch the attention of someone driving past, but it would definitely deter a pedestrian from walking over and placing any new trash into the barrel.
The notable feature of my call was that it took me about five minutes between noticing the smoke and placing the call. It wasn't like I had anything better to do, didn't trust my eyes, or thought placing the call was an inappropriate reaction to what seemed likely to be a rare case of smoke with no fire. It was, I realized about thirty seconds before making the call, that I just didn't want to interact with the police in any way. Once I admitted this to myself, I took out my phone and dialed 911. I have no clear idea why I'm so reluctant to interact with the police but I'm going to think about it some more and come back with a post or two if I form any reasonable theories on how I turned into just another police-fearing American.
One last note on this 911 call - the first thing the operator said when she picked up was 'this call is being recorded'. I wasn't ready for that, at least based on what I knew from TV and movies, but I recovered my composure quickly to reluctantly complete the call and play my small part as a nomadic Cambridge resident.
This second interaction was a 911 call (my first one ever) I made after pulling my bike over to the side of First Street in Cambridge. I reported smoke coming out of a trash barrel back on Cambridge Street, located about a block behind me as I made the call. It wasn't a ton of smoke, perhaps not quite enough to catch the attention of someone driving past, but it would definitely deter a pedestrian from walking over and placing any new trash into the barrel.
The notable feature of my call was that it took me about five minutes between noticing the smoke and placing the call. It wasn't like I had anything better to do, didn't trust my eyes, or thought placing the call was an inappropriate reaction to what seemed likely to be a rare case of smoke with no fire. It was, I realized about thirty seconds before making the call, that I just didn't want to interact with the police in any way. Once I admitted this to myself, I took out my phone and dialed 911. I have no clear idea why I'm so reluctant to interact with the police but I'm going to think about it some more and come back with a post or two if I form any reasonable theories on how I turned into just another police-fearing American.
One last note on this 911 call - the first thing the operator said when she picked up was 'this call is being recorded'. I wasn't ready for that, at least based on what I knew from TV and movies, but I recovered my composure quickly to reluctantly complete the call and play my small part as a nomadic Cambridge resident.
Labels:
toa nonsense
Tuesday, June 11, 2019
reading review - thinking in bets (riff offs)
Hi all,
Let’s wrap up my series of posts about Annie Duke’s Thinking In Bets with a brief riff off on a few lingering ideas.
The seven ‘dog years’ idea is widely believed yet not based on any verified facts.
I was a little surprised to learn this but when I think about it I suppose the idea that a dog ages in direct proportion to humans was a little silly all along.
Experience is not what happens to us but rather what we do with what happens to us.
I like this definition because it addresses the concern I have that people consider mere exposure sufficient as a way to learn. I think learning requires an active and often deliberate step by the student and the way experience is defined here is an important reminder – learning is what we do with what we are taught.
The introduction of uncertainty drastically slows learning.
I would take this a little further and suggest that uncertainty slows everything.
Habits mean a cue, routine, and reward. To change a habit, keep the same cue and reward but change the routine.
I’m not sure if I wrote this down correctly because my intuition suggests that considering the reward is the most important step. A few years ago, I was worried about how I would go into CVS whenever I was returning home late at night for a candy bar or ice cream. I changed the habit by forcing myself into a CVS anytime I knew I could resist the temptation in the hope that I could deliberately reset the way my mind processed the cue (I see a CVS) and routine (I walk into a CVS). Eventually, I rewired myself to recognize that this cue-routine combination did not always need to result in the same reward (candy and/or ice cream). These days, it’s exceedingly rare for me to walk into any store and feel tempted to buy a sweet.
When two salespeople experience different outcomes, it isn’t good enough to simply say one outperformed the other. We must also account for any factor that might have influenced sales – did they perform in different time periods, did they work in different territories, did they sell to customers with different profiles, etc.
I don’t think this is a major revelation for anyone. My assumption is that most people who make comparisons understand the importance of comparing apples to apples. And yet, I bet people are still judged when the apples to apples comparison isn’t possible. I suspect this is because it’s hard to imagine dismissing data about one salesperson outperforming due solely to the impossibility of a fair comparison. In these situations, it’s probably easier to try guessing what explains the outcome (or simply use the outcome itself as the explanation) instead of making it seem like no effort is being made to understand the discrepant results.
Instead of dismissing others, actively look for the things they do well.
This is another thought that I think many understand but few manage to consistently apply in practice. I think the barrier is a natural tendency to assume people are good at what they do relatively well to others. This might be a good way to define ‘passively look for the things they do well’. I’ve often been accused of doing something well merely because the accuser knows someone else who does the same thing poorly. The task of actively determining what someone does well means determining what is done best within the a person’s set of skills.
The goal of a group decision shouldn’t be full agreement. Agreement is needed after the decision is made (in terms of a commitment to action) but groups that find consensus often fail to make the best overall decision.
I learned when I interviewed with Amazon that one of the company’s stated principles was ‘disagree and commit’. I thought this described one of my strengths. Over the years, I’ve found that it’s far more productive to separate my thoughts on a decision from my commitment to executing the plan. I don’t think this comes easily, however, and I’ve found over the years that many people would prefer to say ‘I told you so’ after something fails rather than pointing out that ‘my full commitment to your stupid idea allowed this to succeed’.
A good combination tends to be setting positive goals and understanding negative futures. The best balance is recognizing that we can handle a bad outcome so that we are not discouraged from trying.
This is a good thought for those whose fear of bad outcomes prevents them from executing good decisions. Often, we consider bad outcomes and acknowledge their unpleasantness without considering how we might handle the situation. In some cases, a closer examination helps us recognize that although a bad outcome is hardly cause for celebration, its possibility isn’t a good reason to avoid trying because we know that we can handle any difficulty that might result from a bad outcome.
If you’ve got a spare half a million, you can knock it down and start rebuilding.
As I noted in a prior post, a critical component of sound decision-making is to consider good alternatives. The more possibilities we are able to consider, the better chance we have of making the best decision for ourselves in a given situation.
What?
Fine…
That thought isn’t from the book, it’s from Courtney Barnett’s ‘Depreston’. But you know, when in a riff off…
Thanks for reading.
Let’s wrap up my series of posts about Annie Duke’s Thinking In Bets with a brief riff off on a few lingering ideas.
The seven ‘dog years’ idea is widely believed yet not based on any verified facts.
I was a little surprised to learn this but when I think about it I suppose the idea that a dog ages in direct proportion to humans was a little silly all along.
Experience is not what happens to us but rather what we do with what happens to us.
I like this definition because it addresses the concern I have that people consider mere exposure sufficient as a way to learn. I think learning requires an active and often deliberate step by the student and the way experience is defined here is an important reminder – learning is what we do with what we are taught.
The introduction of uncertainty drastically slows learning.
I would take this a little further and suggest that uncertainty slows everything.
Habits mean a cue, routine, and reward. To change a habit, keep the same cue and reward but change the routine.
I’m not sure if I wrote this down correctly because my intuition suggests that considering the reward is the most important step. A few years ago, I was worried about how I would go into CVS whenever I was returning home late at night for a candy bar or ice cream. I changed the habit by forcing myself into a CVS anytime I knew I could resist the temptation in the hope that I could deliberately reset the way my mind processed the cue (I see a CVS) and routine (I walk into a CVS). Eventually, I rewired myself to recognize that this cue-routine combination did not always need to result in the same reward (candy and/or ice cream). These days, it’s exceedingly rare for me to walk into any store and feel tempted to buy a sweet.
When two salespeople experience different outcomes, it isn’t good enough to simply say one outperformed the other. We must also account for any factor that might have influenced sales – did they perform in different time periods, did they work in different territories, did they sell to customers with different profiles, etc.
I don’t think this is a major revelation for anyone. My assumption is that most people who make comparisons understand the importance of comparing apples to apples. And yet, I bet people are still judged when the apples to apples comparison isn’t possible. I suspect this is because it’s hard to imagine dismissing data about one salesperson outperforming due solely to the impossibility of a fair comparison. In these situations, it’s probably easier to try guessing what explains the outcome (or simply use the outcome itself as the explanation) instead of making it seem like no effort is being made to understand the discrepant results.
Instead of dismissing others, actively look for the things they do well.
This is another thought that I think many understand but few manage to consistently apply in practice. I think the barrier is a natural tendency to assume people are good at what they do relatively well to others. This might be a good way to define ‘passively look for the things they do well’. I’ve often been accused of doing something well merely because the accuser knows someone else who does the same thing poorly. The task of actively determining what someone does well means determining what is done best within the a person’s set of skills.
The goal of a group decision shouldn’t be full agreement. Agreement is needed after the decision is made (in terms of a commitment to action) but groups that find consensus often fail to make the best overall decision.
I learned when I interviewed with Amazon that one of the company’s stated principles was ‘disagree and commit’. I thought this described one of my strengths. Over the years, I’ve found that it’s far more productive to separate my thoughts on a decision from my commitment to executing the plan. I don’t think this comes easily, however, and I’ve found over the years that many people would prefer to say ‘I told you so’ after something fails rather than pointing out that ‘my full commitment to your stupid idea allowed this to succeed’.
A good combination tends to be setting positive goals and understanding negative futures. The best balance is recognizing that we can handle a bad outcome so that we are not discouraged from trying.
This is a good thought for those whose fear of bad outcomes prevents them from executing good decisions. Often, we consider bad outcomes and acknowledge their unpleasantness without considering how we might handle the situation. In some cases, a closer examination helps us recognize that although a bad outcome is hardly cause for celebration, its possibility isn’t a good reason to avoid trying because we know that we can handle any difficulty that might result from a bad outcome.
If you’ve got a spare half a million, you can knock it down and start rebuilding.
As I noted in a prior post, a critical component of sound decision-making is to consider good alternatives. The more possibilities we are able to consider, the better chance we have of making the best decision for ourselves in a given situation.
What?
Fine…
That thought isn’t from the book, it’s from Courtney Barnett’s ‘Depreston’. But you know, when in a riff off…
Thanks for reading.
Monday, June 10, 2019
reading review - twilight of the assholes (art and satire)
The format of Tim Kreider’s Twilight of the Assholes pairs political cartoons with short essays that detail the circumstances surrounding each cartoon. In these essays, Kreider also includes any personal thoughts that he felt went with the highlighted work. Some of these thoughts were philosophical comments on the nature of art and satire that I want to briefly highlight today.
Kreider notes that an artist should always create what he or she wants to see in the world. This reminds me of a thought I’ve highlighted on TOA in the past – an artist must demand everything and, if those demands are not met, channel the ensuing rage and disappointment into creative work. The anger and despair that Kreider felt from the politics of the Bush years surely fueled his artistic passion and pushed him to bring into the world what no one would hand him. I think what he desired was for the public to see that the leadership of his time was the modern equivalent of the emperor with no clothes. His cartoons suggested to me that he felt destroying the public’s illusion of the Bush administration’s competence and benevolence was vital to accomplish this goal.
Kreider’s characterizations often sought the fine line between broad generalizations and unfair stereotypes. As he used his work to criticize, protest, or attack the administration’s positions and policies, it was vital to make a point without exaggerating his opponent’s flaws because if he went too far he would risk his own credibility. I thought his note that good comedy often starts with a simple reference to a common set of assumptions explained how he kept his characterizations within credible limits – once the audience understood the reference, there was no need to extend the caricature any further.
Kreider notes that an artist should always create what he or she wants to see in the world. This reminds me of a thought I’ve highlighted on TOA in the past – an artist must demand everything and, if those demands are not met, channel the ensuing rage and disappointment into creative work. The anger and despair that Kreider felt from the politics of the Bush years surely fueled his artistic passion and pushed him to bring into the world what no one would hand him. I think what he desired was for the public to see that the leadership of his time was the modern equivalent of the emperor with no clothes. His cartoons suggested to me that he felt destroying the public’s illusion of the Bush administration’s competence and benevolence was vital to accomplish this goal.
Kreider’s characterizations often sought the fine line between broad generalizations and unfair stereotypes. As he used his work to criticize, protest, or attack the administration’s positions and policies, it was vital to make a point without exaggerating his opponent’s flaws because if he went too far he would risk his own credibility. I thought his note that good comedy often starts with a simple reference to a common set of assumptions explained how he kept his characterizations within credible limits – once the audience understood the reference, there was no need to extend the caricature any further.
Sunday, June 9, 2019
leftovers – the toa newsletter, may 2019 (the murder case)
In a number of recent newsletters, I made a couple of references that I intended as tongue-in-cheek to being a 'suspect' in a murder case. Knowing that I’m far from expert in conveying tone through my writing, I’ve returned today to clarify those remarks and add some additional insight into my experience.
The moment in question happened back in January. It was exactly one week after a high-profile murder rocked Cambridge. The crime took place in Danehy Park just blocks from the hospice where I’ve volunteered for the past three years. My commute to the hospice has been very consistent in that time – I bike north through Porter Square, head west toward Danehy Park, and dock my borrowed bike at the Hubway station in the parking lot. I then walk along a short path between several baseball and softball fields to the other side of the park before navigating down a few side streets to the residence. As it happened, the murder took place on the same night of the week as my regular volunteer shift. According to reports I read about the case, the police thought the crime occurred sometime between thirty and forty-five minutes after when I usually walk through the park on my way to the hospice.
The next week, I did the same thing I always did – I rode the bike north, turned toward the park, and docked my bike. This time, I was met by two state police officers who were waiting in the parking lot. It seemed like I was stopped entirely at random, though I suppose I can’t be entirely sure. They said they wanted to learn more about how I used the park and asked if I had noticed anything unusual during my recent trips. I explained my routine in some detail but added that on the night of the murder I had actually skipped my shift due to having a basketball game in South Boston. Instead of going to the hospice, I’d gone to the library (to churn out stellar TOA posts like this one, of course) and then caught the #9 bus to the game.
I wasn’t surprised at all about being stopped. As mentioned above, I had read up about the investigation. I knew that the police were increasing patrols in the area and working with the public to gather any potential leads. If I had noticed someone walking through the park right around six o’clock every Wednesday night, I probably would have mentioned it to the police – the possibility that some local had pointed me out didn't escape me. And if the police had done some really intuitive investigation – like using Hubway records to find that I docked my bike at the same time and place each week – then hats off to them for following up on a deserved lead. Finally, if I were any outside observer and I heard about some guy who regularly walked through the park in the relevant timeframe that I did each week, then I would have expected the police follow up on the lead.
And yet, despite having put myself into someone else’s shoes and – I hope – seen the big picture with balance and perspective, I couldn't help but feel uneasy both during and after the conversation. It was reminiscent of how I felt years ago at a bus stop downtown after a police dog had sniffed around my backpack before being pulled along by its officer; apparently he was uninterested with having the dog investigate the backpacks held by the other waiting passengers. This unease lingered with me over the next few days as I waited for a phone call that never came. I still can’t quite put my finger on exactly what caused the feeling. My suspicion is that some part of my own explanation for the officers’ behavior felt incomplete to me and I filled in the missing pieces with a series of negative or suspicious interpretations. The real mystery, I suppose, was why I had been stopped, and despite my thorough reasoning I knew that my mood in the days after the conversation was being influenced only by the malicious possibilities that my churning mind was cooking up. I think its an example of a certain line of logic that comes naturally to most people whenever they feel something is being withheld from them – if the explanation isn’t so bad, then why am I not being told?
In a certain way, I benefited from this very line of logic with the officers – since what I had done on the night of the murder wasn't so bad, I told them everything. In fact, I enjoyed the entire conversation with the officers despite the suspicion that inevitably underscored the interaction. We realized at one point that we shared a common link to Woburn, it being both the site of their station and the same town I’d worked in for nearly six years. They asked me if I was related to one of the town’s star high school quarterbacks of the same name (I’m not). Eventually, they explained that the police had nothing regarding this case, that they were looking for any help from the public, and that I should get in touch if I thought I could help.
Soon enough, I was on my way to the hospice. I walked through the park on the same unlit path for what turned out to be the last time. A figure approached me in the dark. As we drew closer I adjusted my direction to step off the path and continued walking in the dirt. We made brief eye contact as we passed. I returned to the path and emerged from the darkened park onto the lit sidewalk. I wondered how late I was for my shift, and why I hadn’t seen anyone patrolling yet.
The moment in question happened back in January. It was exactly one week after a high-profile murder rocked Cambridge. The crime took place in Danehy Park just blocks from the hospice where I’ve volunteered for the past three years. My commute to the hospice has been very consistent in that time – I bike north through Porter Square, head west toward Danehy Park, and dock my borrowed bike at the Hubway station in the parking lot. I then walk along a short path between several baseball and softball fields to the other side of the park before navigating down a few side streets to the residence. As it happened, the murder took place on the same night of the week as my regular volunteer shift. According to reports I read about the case, the police thought the crime occurred sometime between thirty and forty-five minutes after when I usually walk through the park on my way to the hospice.
The next week, I did the same thing I always did – I rode the bike north, turned toward the park, and docked my bike. This time, I was met by two state police officers who were waiting in the parking lot. It seemed like I was stopped entirely at random, though I suppose I can’t be entirely sure. They said they wanted to learn more about how I used the park and asked if I had noticed anything unusual during my recent trips. I explained my routine in some detail but added that on the night of the murder I had actually skipped my shift due to having a basketball game in South Boston. Instead of going to the hospice, I’d gone to the library (to churn out stellar TOA posts like this one, of course) and then caught the #9 bus to the game.
I wasn’t surprised at all about being stopped. As mentioned above, I had read up about the investigation. I knew that the police were increasing patrols in the area and working with the public to gather any potential leads. If I had noticed someone walking through the park right around six o’clock every Wednesday night, I probably would have mentioned it to the police – the possibility that some local had pointed me out didn't escape me. And if the police had done some really intuitive investigation – like using Hubway records to find that I docked my bike at the same time and place each week – then hats off to them for following up on a deserved lead. Finally, if I were any outside observer and I heard about some guy who regularly walked through the park in the relevant timeframe that I did each week, then I would have expected the police follow up on the lead.
And yet, despite having put myself into someone else’s shoes and – I hope – seen the big picture with balance and perspective, I couldn't help but feel uneasy both during and after the conversation. It was reminiscent of how I felt years ago at a bus stop downtown after a police dog had sniffed around my backpack before being pulled along by its officer; apparently he was uninterested with having the dog investigate the backpacks held by the other waiting passengers. This unease lingered with me over the next few days as I waited for a phone call that never came. I still can’t quite put my finger on exactly what caused the feeling. My suspicion is that some part of my own explanation for the officers’ behavior felt incomplete to me and I filled in the missing pieces with a series of negative or suspicious interpretations. The real mystery, I suppose, was why I had been stopped, and despite my thorough reasoning I knew that my mood in the days after the conversation was being influenced only by the malicious possibilities that my churning mind was cooking up. I think its an example of a certain line of logic that comes naturally to most people whenever they feel something is being withheld from them – if the explanation isn’t so bad, then why am I not being told?
In a certain way, I benefited from this very line of logic with the officers – since what I had done on the night of the murder wasn't so bad, I told them everything. In fact, I enjoyed the entire conversation with the officers despite the suspicion that inevitably underscored the interaction. We realized at one point that we shared a common link to Woburn, it being both the site of their station and the same town I’d worked in for nearly six years. They asked me if I was related to one of the town’s star high school quarterbacks of the same name (I’m not). Eventually, they explained that the police had nothing regarding this case, that they were looking for any help from the public, and that I should get in touch if I thought I could help.
Soon enough, I was on my way to the hospice. I walked through the park on the same unlit path for what turned out to be the last time. A figure approached me in the dark. As we drew closer I adjusted my direction to step off the path and continued walking in the dirt. We made brief eye contact as we passed. I returned to the path and emerged from the darkened park onto the lit sidewalk. I wondered how late I was for my shift, and why I hadn’t seen anyone patrolling yet.
Labels:
toa newsletter
Saturday, June 8, 2019
fortune cookie power ratings (part 3)
Hi all,
Welcome to part 3 of my fortune cookie examination.
A ship in the harbor is safe, but that’s not why ships are built.
I thought this was among the best fortunes in the bunch. The message is clear, there is some entertainment value, and the fortune is broadly true (unless you’ve just shared scallion pancakes with a committed nitpicker).
Of course, broadly true is another way to say...
True, False, or Racist?
False.
Speaking of nitpickers, let’s take a moment to pick those nits…
First, ships in harbor aren’t always safe. There are storms, for example, that might wreck havoc on a resting vessel. The ship could also come under attack from nautical threats such as poorly steered ocean liners, suicidal blue whales, or determined pirates.
I also reject the notion that all ships are built to leave the harbor – some boats seem designed to sit in port and serve as symbols of wealth and status to all us suckers with our feet stuck on dry land.
Keep it or chuck it?
Keep it.
I know this breaks from the pattern of chucking any false fortune but as I noted I do like this one. You should keep what you like, I say.
A true friend walks in when the rest of the world walks out.
This is another classic fortune cookie technique – cook up some feel-good nonsense that no one really wants to dispute. Well, let me tell you, reader, that I think this message establishes unreasonable standards for friendship. Sure, it’s nice to have friends who will support you during difficult times, but is that grounds for separating friends into ‘true’ and ‘untrue’ categories?
The bigger problem here is the notion of the world walking out. What does that even mean? Look, I’m stung whenever my acquaintances appear entirely disinterested about my various sufferings but on a planet of seven billion people – many suffering far worse than me – expecting The World to care about my petty grievances is a selfish position. The world never walks out because the world is never there to begin with.
True, False, or Racist?
False, unless you’re looking for an excuse to cut friends out of your life.
Keep it or chuck it?
Chuck it.
Try this thought instead – true friends give what they can and expect nothing back.
Welcome to part 3 of my fortune cookie examination.
A ship in the harbor is safe, but that’s not why ships are built.
I thought this was among the best fortunes in the bunch. The message is clear, there is some entertainment value, and the fortune is broadly true (unless you’ve just shared scallion pancakes with a committed nitpicker).
Of course, broadly true is another way to say...
True, False, or Racist?
False.
Speaking of nitpickers, let’s take a moment to pick those nits…
First, ships in harbor aren’t always safe. There are storms, for example, that might wreck havoc on a resting vessel. The ship could also come under attack from nautical threats such as poorly steered ocean liners, suicidal blue whales, or determined pirates.
I also reject the notion that all ships are built to leave the harbor – some boats seem designed to sit in port and serve as symbols of wealth and status to all us suckers with our feet stuck on dry land.
Keep it or chuck it?
Keep it.
I know this breaks from the pattern of chucking any false fortune but as I noted I do like this one. You should keep what you like, I say.
A true friend walks in when the rest of the world walks out.
This is another classic fortune cookie technique – cook up some feel-good nonsense that no one really wants to dispute. Well, let me tell you, reader, that I think this message establishes unreasonable standards for friendship. Sure, it’s nice to have friends who will support you during difficult times, but is that grounds for separating friends into ‘true’ and ‘untrue’ categories?
The bigger problem here is the notion of the world walking out. What does that even mean? Look, I’m stung whenever my acquaintances appear entirely disinterested about my various sufferings but on a planet of seven billion people – many suffering far worse than me – expecting The World to care about my petty grievances is a selfish position. The world never walks out because the world is never there to begin with.
True, False, or Racist?
False, unless you’re looking for an excuse to cut friends out of your life.
Keep it or chuck it?
Chuck it.
Try this thought instead – true friends give what they can and expect nothing back.
Friday, June 7, 2019
the 2018 toa book award – preliminary round, part one
Hi folks,
Finally, after months and months of endless awards admin, I am overjoyed to announce the start of one of my favorite TOA traditions – The TOA Book of the Year award, or as I like to call it, ‘The Most Irrelevant Prize in World Literature’. For those requiring a refresher, I announced (‘announced’) my shortlist in this recent post (1).
I liked last year’s process so we’ll repeat it for this year’s edition. We’ll start with a series of preliminary posts where I’ll slowly eliminate the books I will not include among my finalists. These posts will include a brief blurb about what I liked in the book as well as a ‘parting thought’ – the big idea that has stayed with me since my reading.
Unlike with last year, I looked for common links among my eliminations and paired books together whenever possible. This didn’t apply to every book but I think it will add some extra perspective to these preliminary posts. We’ll assess how this new process goes before making any decisions about whether to make it a permanent feature of these awards.
OK – without further ado, let’s begin the elimination rounds from the 2018 TOA Book of the Year awards with a pair of books I read as part of my ‘Business Bro Book Club’. This bizarre idea was simultaneously short-lived (in that I stopped rereading business books) yet remains ongoing (in that I’m still working on posts for these books). I decided the best approach was to pause this project until I could find an actual job where I could apply the insights and lessons from these books.
High Output Management by Andy Grove (February 2018)
Grove’s book defines the standard for the managerial role. I read it in February in preparation for a new managerial job I had just accepted (at the time, I didn’t know I would be prevented from actually taking on the managerial responsibilities discussed during the recruitment process). Still, rereading wasn’t a total waste as I enjoyed the process while also reminding myself of the book’s enduring wisdom.
Parting thought: the manager’s job is to train or motivate
This was an easy one and a concept I’ve highlighted many times on TOA. Grove’s entire book is built around his insight that an employee performs poorly for one of two reasons – either the employee cannot do the job or the employee does not feel like doing the job. Thus, the manager’s job is to train or motivate. I argue that every other line in the book is related to this thought (clear communication is essential for good training, a poorly organized work process suffocates motivation, a thoughtful performance review motivates the employee, etc).
Plain Talk by Ken Iverson (June 2018)
Iverson’s book examines leadership at the executive level and the scope is therefore a little different from Grove’s focus on middle management. However, the two authors share a reliance on common sense and people skills that influenced my own leadership philosophy. Being about executive leadership, Plain Talk’s common sense approach is a little more eye opening because these days common sense is not associated with the C-level. Iverson shows that this does not need to be the case, especially when he describes how top executive pay should be based almost entirely on the organization’s performance. Given what I know about CEO pay, my best guess is that most CEOs did not read this book prior to taking the job.
Parting thought: an organization should have no more than four levels of hierarchy
Iverson describes the four levels as follows: front-line employees, supervisors, managers (who organize the efforts of multiple teams), and the executive level. When I eventually run an organization, this will be one of my core principles because it is a simple way to understand and explain roles. The framework will help me recognize the strengths and weaknesses of the team while allowing each person to understand how a specific set of responsibilities fits into the organizational structure.
Footnotes / endnotes / admin rants
0. The 2018? The 2019? The 1975? Who knows, who cares...
Yes, I am aware that last year's award was also called 'The 2018 TOA Book Award', or something like that. No, I don't care.
1. More admin...
I hinted in this post that I might cover other 'awards' first before digging into these books. Well, maybe I will, but I think it's about high time I talked about these books, no?
Finally, after months and months of endless awards admin, I am overjoyed to announce the start of one of my favorite TOA traditions – The TOA Book of the Year award, or as I like to call it, ‘The Most Irrelevant Prize in World Literature’. For those requiring a refresher, I announced (‘announced’) my shortlist in this recent post (1).
I liked last year’s process so we’ll repeat it for this year’s edition. We’ll start with a series of preliminary posts where I’ll slowly eliminate the books I will not include among my finalists. These posts will include a brief blurb about what I liked in the book as well as a ‘parting thought’ – the big idea that has stayed with me since my reading.
Unlike with last year, I looked for common links among my eliminations and paired books together whenever possible. This didn’t apply to every book but I think it will add some extra perspective to these preliminary posts. We’ll assess how this new process goes before making any decisions about whether to make it a permanent feature of these awards.
OK – without further ado, let’s begin the elimination rounds from the 2018 TOA Book of the Year awards with a pair of books I read as part of my ‘Business Bro Book Club’. This bizarre idea was simultaneously short-lived (in that I stopped rereading business books) yet remains ongoing (in that I’m still working on posts for these books). I decided the best approach was to pause this project until I could find an actual job where I could apply the insights and lessons from these books.
High Output Management by Andy Grove (February 2018)
Grove’s book defines the standard for the managerial role. I read it in February in preparation for a new managerial job I had just accepted (at the time, I didn’t know I would be prevented from actually taking on the managerial responsibilities discussed during the recruitment process). Still, rereading wasn’t a total waste as I enjoyed the process while also reminding myself of the book’s enduring wisdom.
Parting thought: the manager’s job is to train or motivate
This was an easy one and a concept I’ve highlighted many times on TOA. Grove’s entire book is built around his insight that an employee performs poorly for one of two reasons – either the employee cannot do the job or the employee does not feel like doing the job. Thus, the manager’s job is to train or motivate. I argue that every other line in the book is related to this thought (clear communication is essential for good training, a poorly organized work process suffocates motivation, a thoughtful performance review motivates the employee, etc).
Plain Talk by Ken Iverson (June 2018)
Iverson’s book examines leadership at the executive level and the scope is therefore a little different from Grove’s focus on middle management. However, the two authors share a reliance on common sense and people skills that influenced my own leadership philosophy. Being about executive leadership, Plain Talk’s common sense approach is a little more eye opening because these days common sense is not associated with the C-level. Iverson shows that this does not need to be the case, especially when he describes how top executive pay should be based almost entirely on the organization’s performance. Given what I know about CEO pay, my best guess is that most CEOs did not read this book prior to taking the job.
Parting thought: an organization should have no more than four levels of hierarchy
Iverson describes the four levels as follows: front-line employees, supervisors, managers (who organize the efforts of multiple teams), and the executive level. When I eventually run an organization, this will be one of my core principles because it is a simple way to understand and explain roles. The framework will help me recognize the strengths and weaknesses of the team while allowing each person to understand how a specific set of responsibilities fits into the organizational structure.
Footnotes / endnotes / admin rants
0. The 2018? The 2019? The 1975? Who knows, who cares...
Yes, I am aware that last year's award was also called 'The 2018 TOA Book Award', or something like that. No, I don't care.
1. More admin...
I hinted in this post that I might cover other 'awards' first before digging into these books. Well, maybe I will, but I think it's about high time I talked about these books, no?
Thursday, June 6, 2019
the problem with history books
The aftermath to a national tragedy is sometimes described as a manifestation of long-simmering feelings among a citizenry. I think this is perhaps a nice approach to understanding events for those who are used to reading or writing history books. But in terms of the way a national event changes day-to-day living for people in a particular country, I often feel these interpretations are overstated. It’s a little like when I overhear a private conversation – though I’m only just becoming aware of it, the discussion has a history from well before I’d dropped in. If I interrupted the conversation to share my thoughts, the participants would surely be astonished by how little I knew about the discussion topic.
I think one example of this is what happened after Japan’s a massive tsunami hit in 2011. A big problem in the tsunami’s aftermath was the danger it posed to the country’s nuclear reactors. For many foreign observers, this was a catalyst for vigorous discussion about Japan’s approach toward nuclear energy. But I think using the tsunami as a starting point for a discussion reveals a naivety about how Japanese people have thought and felt about nuclear power for several decades. The reality of nuclear energy in Japan is very simple. On one hand, Japan is an island nation with limited natural resources. For Japan, energy is an ever-present question with increasingly uncertain answers. On the other hand, Japan will forever remain the first country in world history to have been attacked by nuclear weapons. Whenever someone whose lineage is even remotely connected with Hiroshima or Nagasaki gets cancer, people wonder about the lingering genetic effects of the atomic bombs.
Japan’s discussion about nuclear power didn’t start because of the tsunami – it’s more like pundits and politicians abroad started eavesdropping on decades-long Japanese conversations and reported from their own perspective rather than that of their subject. It’s not a huge problem and it’s inevitable to some degree in journalism. But I think it obviously introduces the risk of missing the point by overemphasizing big events at the expense of understanding the underlying emotions and feelings that drive people’s thoughts and actions on a day-to-day level.
In short, I generally disagree with the idea that big events ‘reveal’ or ‘uncover’ feelings among groups, societies, or nations. I think those who believe in this notion are making excuses for not having seen from the air what was always in plain sight to so many on the ground. I think these people have read one too many history books and subscribe to a misplaced notion that only Big Events have enough power to change the world. Such a belief system seems to allow people to justify ignoring all the ways they can make the world better on a day-to-day basis and I wonder if it explains why certain chronic yet obvious problems have festered in our society for so long.
For example, when Puerto Rico was hit by a hurricane in 2017, pundits trampled each other to be the first to comment on the underlying systemic racism revealed by the distribution – or not – of aid and relief. This was an important point, and vital in the many ways it helped bring additional relief to the island. But the only news here was the relief effort – the underlying racism was not a new point. To suggest systemic racism was revealed by the disaster response silences and erases those who’ve been pointing out the same for decades, and their allegations should require no additional support from a hurricane given the damning education, wage, or incarceration metrics we’ve all grown accustomed to tuning out.
A similar dynamic occurred in the aftermath of the 2008 recession. The obvious, public response of the Occupy Wall Street movement inspired uninspired pundits to note the sentiment, the frustration, the outrage, as protesters took to parks and sidewalks to air their views about the financial system. But what was the breaking news? That people were upset about money earned for no apparent reason? That people found something villainous about becoming wealthy in the midst of a major recession? These are among the oldest complaints in the book – or at least, any book except a history book, which is too concerned with describing the world in ways that render ordinary concerns irrelevant in the face of big events.
I think one example of this is what happened after Japan’s a massive tsunami hit in 2011. A big problem in the tsunami’s aftermath was the danger it posed to the country’s nuclear reactors. For many foreign observers, this was a catalyst for vigorous discussion about Japan’s approach toward nuclear energy. But I think using the tsunami as a starting point for a discussion reveals a naivety about how Japanese people have thought and felt about nuclear power for several decades. The reality of nuclear energy in Japan is very simple. On one hand, Japan is an island nation with limited natural resources. For Japan, energy is an ever-present question with increasingly uncertain answers. On the other hand, Japan will forever remain the first country in world history to have been attacked by nuclear weapons. Whenever someone whose lineage is even remotely connected with Hiroshima or Nagasaki gets cancer, people wonder about the lingering genetic effects of the atomic bombs.
Japan’s discussion about nuclear power didn’t start because of the tsunami – it’s more like pundits and politicians abroad started eavesdropping on decades-long Japanese conversations and reported from their own perspective rather than that of their subject. It’s not a huge problem and it’s inevitable to some degree in journalism. But I think it obviously introduces the risk of missing the point by overemphasizing big events at the expense of understanding the underlying emotions and feelings that drive people’s thoughts and actions on a day-to-day level.
In short, I generally disagree with the idea that big events ‘reveal’ or ‘uncover’ feelings among groups, societies, or nations. I think those who believe in this notion are making excuses for not having seen from the air what was always in plain sight to so many on the ground. I think these people have read one too many history books and subscribe to a misplaced notion that only Big Events have enough power to change the world. Such a belief system seems to allow people to justify ignoring all the ways they can make the world better on a day-to-day basis and I wonder if it explains why certain chronic yet obvious problems have festered in our society for so long.
For example, when Puerto Rico was hit by a hurricane in 2017, pundits trampled each other to be the first to comment on the underlying systemic racism revealed by the distribution – or not – of aid and relief. This was an important point, and vital in the many ways it helped bring additional relief to the island. But the only news here was the relief effort – the underlying racism was not a new point. To suggest systemic racism was revealed by the disaster response silences and erases those who’ve been pointing out the same for decades, and their allegations should require no additional support from a hurricane given the damning education, wage, or incarceration metrics we’ve all grown accustomed to tuning out.
A similar dynamic occurred in the aftermath of the 2008 recession. The obvious, public response of the Occupy Wall Street movement inspired uninspired pundits to note the sentiment, the frustration, the outrage, as protesters took to parks and sidewalks to air their views about the financial system. But what was the breaking news? That people were upset about money earned for no apparent reason? That people found something villainous about becoming wealthy in the midst of a major recession? These are among the oldest complaints in the book – or at least, any book except a history book, which is too concerned with describing the world in ways that render ordinary concerns irrelevant in the face of big events.
Labels:
toa nonsense
Wednesday, June 5, 2019
reading review - thinking in bets (the sympathetic ear)
One challenge to helping others make improved decisions is how it often requires the helper to violate the implicit social contract that we should always lend a sympathetic ear to hard luck stories. Although some situations do require this approach, consoling someone for their poor outcome rarely helps them make better decisions in the future. One of Duke’s suggestions for overcoming this problem is to form a group dedicated to improving decision-making skills. I thought this was good advice but perhaps not always realistic. For the most part, the only opportunity we get with others is conversation, so I figured today I should think about such conversations and consider ways to help a person become better at making decisions without jeopardizing the social contracts that govern our closest bonds.
The goal at the start of any conversation is to establish an open dialogue and this applies to any discussion aiming at improving decisions. My first objective would be to gently steer the conversation away from any self-pity that might otherwise prevent honest reflection. A good way to do this is by avoiding disagreement. This doesn’t mean both parties must agree throughout, it just means using certain words and phrases to keep both parties in a conversation on the same side of the table. The age-old improv standard of ‘yes, and…’ is the most important expression to use for these conversations. By starting a comment with these words, a sense of agreement is established and the next step in the conversation starts with the previous exchange as a building block.
The key point to remember is that it rarely matters if both sides agree. Even if the listener feels that bad luck actually played no role in the outcome, the point here is to establish a sense of agreement with the aggrieved party before moving forward. Once the listener's sympathy is established, the conversation can move forward to talk about what happened. I recommend putting this sympathy on active display rather than passively implying via merely listening to someone's extended sob story. Once the sympathetic foundation is established, the conversation can move forward to explore the decisions that led to the outcome. If the initial response to this attempt results in defensiveness, just revert back to providing reinforcement or validation. Eventually, it should become possible to explore ways to improve the decision-making process without backlash.
Finally, always remember that dismissing another’s decision is a sure path to disaster. The better approach is to focus actively on what someone does well and frame everything in that context. This way, a might help someone see that a decision went poorly not because of a bad choice but because of a failure to stick with strengths. The best way to help others improve their decision-making skills is to help them recognize ways to leverage their own strengths or abilities. This is always challenging in the aftermath of a bad outcome but a sympathetic listener can do a world of good by helping someone gradually recognize how good outcomes are linked to decisions that position us to do what we know we do best.
The goal at the start of any conversation is to establish an open dialogue and this applies to any discussion aiming at improving decisions. My first objective would be to gently steer the conversation away from any self-pity that might otherwise prevent honest reflection. A good way to do this is by avoiding disagreement. This doesn’t mean both parties must agree throughout, it just means using certain words and phrases to keep both parties in a conversation on the same side of the table. The age-old improv standard of ‘yes, and…’ is the most important expression to use for these conversations. By starting a comment with these words, a sense of agreement is established and the next step in the conversation starts with the previous exchange as a building block.
The key point to remember is that it rarely matters if both sides agree. Even if the listener feels that bad luck actually played no role in the outcome, the point here is to establish a sense of agreement with the aggrieved party before moving forward. Once the listener's sympathy is established, the conversation can move forward to talk about what happened. I recommend putting this sympathy on active display rather than passively implying via merely listening to someone's extended sob story. Once the sympathetic foundation is established, the conversation can move forward to explore the decisions that led to the outcome. If the initial response to this attempt results in defensiveness, just revert back to providing reinforcement or validation. Eventually, it should become possible to explore ways to improve the decision-making process without backlash.
Finally, always remember that dismissing another’s decision is a sure path to disaster. The better approach is to focus actively on what someone does well and frame everything in that context. This way, a might help someone see that a decision went poorly not because of a bad choice but because of a failure to stick with strengths. The best way to help others improve their decision-making skills is to help them recognize ways to leverage their own strengths or abilities. This is always challenging in the aftermath of a bad outcome but a sympathetic listener can do a world of good by helping someone gradually recognize how good outcomes are linked to decisions that position us to do what we know we do best.
Tuesday, June 4, 2019
reading review - twilight of the assholes
Twilight of the Assholes by Tim Kreider (September 2018)
Tim Kreider’s critcism of the Bush administration is the main connecting thread among the essays and cartoons featured in Twilight of the Assholes. His work portrays a fearful nation in those post-9/11 years, one where moral codes and international law were routinely dismissed in the name of protecting the country. The best way to summarize Kreider’s thoughts from the time is in his comments about a certain, er, interrogation tactic – at some point during the Bush years, being anti-torture became a political position.
The price for all this safety and security came in exchange for some of our freedoms and civil liberties. This was not a price Kreider willingly or regularly paid. For him, freedom meant some exposure to danger. He accepted that the freedom to do his work came with a degree of danger in the form of criticism and perhaps possible harm to his career prospects. I think this mattered to him because he saw his work as a manifestation of his vision of America – a place where criticism and dissent are the positive forces for reform and growth.
Of course, the other side of the coin here is that Kreider simply didn’t agree with the Bush administration. I see this as a healthy stance – as he points out, the sight of thousands of Americans looking like third world refugees in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina was decisive evidence for those who willingly reported for jury duty in the court of public opinion. But as I noted after reading Eureka Street, there is a big difference between a politician’s actions and that politician’s supporters. I don’t think there is much need to depict those who support the troops as mindless backers of the government, for example, and not merely because sweeping statements always get something wrong. Dissent is a critical feature of our democracy but a dissenter who sees opponents only as caricatures of a position do more to erode rather than reinforce the foundations of our democracy.
One up: I liked the observation that mercenaries tend to give up in a fight before those who are fighting for an ideal. It explains why certain changes happen so gradually in this country - proponents keep fighting for their ideals while their opponents eventually find new ways to act on their motivations to preserve or consolidate power, prestige, and wealth.
One down: Kreider notes that the collective fear of death is seen in how easily we accept a new finding that claims to extend longevity. I suppose that’s true but like a lot of observational conclusions it’s based on a false duality. I perceive myself as someone who does not fear death but that doesn’t mean I’m in any rush to pack up. If I ever learn of a new pill that might allow me to churn out these stupid reading reviews for another two hundred years, I'll be the first one in line.
Just saying: I ended up reading this collection because I remembered liking Kreider’s writing from the books and articles of his I’ve read in the past. Here’s one quote from the book that captures some of his essence:
‘I once restrained myself but now I’ve reconsidered, reasoning: screw it.’
And in what might be a repeat link, here’s a piece I liked that he wrote about busyness.
Tim Kreider’s critcism of the Bush administration is the main connecting thread among the essays and cartoons featured in Twilight of the Assholes. His work portrays a fearful nation in those post-9/11 years, one where moral codes and international law were routinely dismissed in the name of protecting the country. The best way to summarize Kreider’s thoughts from the time is in his comments about a certain, er, interrogation tactic – at some point during the Bush years, being anti-torture became a political position.
The price for all this safety and security came in exchange for some of our freedoms and civil liberties. This was not a price Kreider willingly or regularly paid. For him, freedom meant some exposure to danger. He accepted that the freedom to do his work came with a degree of danger in the form of criticism and perhaps possible harm to his career prospects. I think this mattered to him because he saw his work as a manifestation of his vision of America – a place where criticism and dissent are the positive forces for reform and growth.
Of course, the other side of the coin here is that Kreider simply didn’t agree with the Bush administration. I see this as a healthy stance – as he points out, the sight of thousands of Americans looking like third world refugees in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina was decisive evidence for those who willingly reported for jury duty in the court of public opinion. But as I noted after reading Eureka Street, there is a big difference between a politician’s actions and that politician’s supporters. I don’t think there is much need to depict those who support the troops as mindless backers of the government, for example, and not merely because sweeping statements always get something wrong. Dissent is a critical feature of our democracy but a dissenter who sees opponents only as caricatures of a position do more to erode rather than reinforce the foundations of our democracy.
One up: I liked the observation that mercenaries tend to give up in a fight before those who are fighting for an ideal. It explains why certain changes happen so gradually in this country - proponents keep fighting for their ideals while their opponents eventually find new ways to act on their motivations to preserve or consolidate power, prestige, and wealth.
One down: Kreider notes that the collective fear of death is seen in how easily we accept a new finding that claims to extend longevity. I suppose that’s true but like a lot of observational conclusions it’s based on a false duality. I perceive myself as someone who does not fear death but that doesn’t mean I’m in any rush to pack up. If I ever learn of a new pill that might allow me to churn out these stupid reading reviews for another two hundred years, I'll be the first one in line.
Just saying: I ended up reading this collection because I remembered liking Kreider’s writing from the books and articles of his I’ve read in the past. Here’s one quote from the book that captures some of his essence:
‘I once restrained myself but now I’ve reconsidered, reasoning: screw it.’
And in what might be a repeat link, here’s a piece I liked that he wrote about busyness.
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