August 2006 Archives

August Readback and Update

The summer is at an end. It's time to roll out the Keats and reflect back on the last month.

This was a slower month at chez Todd than intended. As I wrote a few days ago allergies returned with a vengeance and slowed down my toils.

The month began warm and sultry but is ending up rather cool. I doubt this summer has broken any records for heat in Southeast Michigan, but what do I know, I've only been here a year. The weather service has the real data if you want it.

August is a reminder for me of the foolishness of man and the oftentimes silly hopes that we embody in our fictions.

More thoughts on education continued to burble up. Including some thought on building new learning communities and the possibility of an academic utopia.

The big political story of the month, the foiled terrorist attacks on airplanes crossing the Atlantic, prompted an intemperate burst of outrage over the stupidity of the media. Luckily I quickly recovered and found some things to laugh about.

Philosophically I was concerned with reflection, the density of the other, and a pocketful of -archies. I had hoped to extend my ideas about reflection into a longer form, but that project will have to wait.

A grab bag of external stimuli made an impression over the month, prompting some thoughts on the legacy of Carl Sagan, visualizations of income distributions, the evolution, or lack thereof, in groups, autocratic personalities, metaphors for librarians, the sources for Wikipedia

A is for August and Allergies

Things have been quiet here at EcEc for the last few days. Preparations for the upcoming semester are gearing up. Ragweed pollen is high, my eyes are itchy and swollen, and I haven't been reading much online or elsewhere.

Instead I've been watching movies and television episodes on DVD. I watched Heat again because I was curious to see if it was as annoying as I remembered. I enjoyed Miami Vice when it came out earlier this summer, and liked Collateral on DVD. Michael Mann is very interesting to watch visually. But what is it with the shower scenes in Heat and Miami Vice? Is this some kind of code for baptism, cleanliness, vulnerability? An academic paper probably lurks somewhere in the symbolism of water in Mann's films. It's doubtful that I'll ever write it.

On television I've been obsessing over Joss Whedon's Firefly. I'm late to the party by several years but the shows are worthy. The obsessive annotations made about the show on Wikipedia are amusing and instructive in a way that I don't feel like detailing today.

I took a detour into Miami Vice, based on the Michael Mann curiosity, and discovered that TV shows in the 1980s had about five more minutes of run time than today's shows, 48 versus 43 minutes. So, ipso facto, I must conclude that commercialism is running rampant in America. It's proven by anecdote if not statistic.

I saw Cars and the Devil Wears Prada at the theater. Big screens are much more enjoyable than small televisions or computer monitors. Cars was so-so. The animation is really the only reason I go to see Pixar movies, sometimes the story is surprisingly good others not so much. Devil Wears Prada was a fun little romp through the world of New York publishing. As MaryAnn Johanson says it's too true to be fiction.

A Couple of Questions about Wikipedia

Two recent examples of Wikipedia confusion regarding people that I've read raise questions about whether Wikipedia is just reproducing the same hierarchic structure that we find everywhere else.

Wikipedia has questioned the notability of Stephen Downes and engaged in a long argument over the correct capitalization of danah boyd's name

I can't fully put my finger on why the media-centric thing bugs me, but it does. The media has decided that i'm an expert because of my knowledge in a specific domain; Wikipedia has decided that i'm notable because i'm on TV. Why is Wikipedia not using transitivity and saying that i'm notable because of my knowledge in a specific domain? Why does it matter more that i'm on TV than why i'm on TV?

Now, i love Wikipedia. But i think that there's something broken here. Personally, i would rather my entry been deleted than have this very inaccurate and media-centric entry written. (Deletion would've been far more entertaining.) I think that this approach to notability makes Wikipedia look downright foolish. Personally, i'm embarrassed by this public representation full of mistakes. There has to be a better way to handle living people. The “no original research” approach is really not working here.

I'm sure things will improve, people will edit the entries, arguments will occur over whether new policies should be adopted or not. But the real key is not to me the factual basis of the entries in question - it is the definition of notability and expert.

The problem partly stems from defining knowledge in subfields that don't have a wide exposure in the media. Social network analysis and education blogging are two emerging fields that still don't have a large presence in the media.

Based on my recent subscription to Newsweek the mainstream media is just as boringly sycophantic as ever. I'm particularly disturbed by the question of what are the new 'ivies' in education. Education has too much prestige chasing as it is.

An Academic Utopia

Last weekend I was in need of some silly summer movie fun. Coincidentally, I was thinking about academia and the institutions of higher education. On a lark I went to see Accepted. I read the plot synopsis - rejected high school student creates his own 'fake' college to convince his parents that he is really going to amount to something - and thought it'd be a mild summer diversion. To my surprise it was a revolutionary reaction to current academia.

I admit that I may be reading too much into this modest summer comedy. But in comedy there is often a large grain of truth as Lance Mannion so eloquently described. Comedy often shows us what we don't want to hear. Mannion writes about a review of Ann Coulter at the New Republic.

The outrageous lies, vulgarity, and plain, open hatred that define Coulter's schtick are ok in Reeve's book because everything Coulter says is “kind of true.”

That's why Liberals can't stand her, Reeve thinks, because we're uncomfortable with that little bit she says that's “kind of” true.

Reeve is accepting a definition of humor and satire that would have it that a joke is funny because it's kind of true.

But the mark of great humor and satire and a good joke is that they are wholly true, true through and through. Swift, and Hogarth, Dickens, Mark Twain, Walt Kelly, and company didn't draw and write stuff that's “kind of” true.

The reviews I've read have been mediocre.

Ethan Alter at Premier magazine.

Perhaps the most disappointing thing about the film is its attitude towards higher education. While it's true that the idea of a core curriculum can seem outmoded, the “do-whatever-the-hell-you-want” model praised by Accepted is both impractical and a little frightening. Whether intentionally or not, the filmmakers wind up reinforcing the stereotype of Americans as selfish me-firsters who want the world to conform to our desires.

MaryAnn Johanson at FlickPhilosopher comes closest to my own reaction to the movie.

This is almost like a lost movie from my teenhood, a forgotten relic of the late 70s, early 80s, when even summer comedies came with a touch of social commentary and a bit of class consciousness -- when they ate the rich instead of aspiring to be one of them. If Accepted is part Caddyshack, part Breakfast Club, then its star, Justin Long -- the “I’m a Mac” guy from the computer commercials and the best thing in The Break-Up and Herbie: Fully Loaded -- is Bill Murray and Dan Ackroyd and Emilio Estevez rolled into one charming package. With his dash of snark and his off-kilter good looks and his appealingly huggable vulnerability, his Bartleby Gaines is an anti-everyman hero, a literal freedom fighter railing against the chains of societal expectations that can drive even the best of us to succumb to one-note conventionality. And though so many movies pretend to be about unusual or oddball characters, this one really feels like it is -- it feels like it doesn’t give a crap if you agree with it or not, because it knows it’s in the right. There’s a commanding confidence to Accepted that is entirely unlike anything many mainstream films are able to pull off. It doesn’t have to beg you to like it, as it grooves along from one funny moment to the next, self-assured and totally self-possessed -- it believes in your ability to see that what it’s saying makes sense, and if you don’t see it, that’s your loss, man.

So can a college where students create their own curriculum really be an academic utopia? Most film critics seem to think this is a silly idea, just another formula that we've seen so many times before. My question is why then do we keep seeing this formula so often? Surely if it's so easy to lampoon the college establishment it must be because we hope for something better, something different.

Accepted is telling us that there is a great big gap between the educational aspirations of college and the reality of learning. I don't think anyone who has been to college to learn would disagree with this. Just read academic blogs or Inside Higher Education. There's a great deal of doubt about the effectiveness of college education. A recent article in the New York Times proves this.

Over the weekend more evidence came from an interview with Ken Robinson. You can see him speaking at a recent TED conference about the same ideas.

His basic argument is that education stifles creativity and creativity is what we will need more than ever to solve the problems of the present and the future. Other people have made the same argument before but we still don't seem to be getting the message. I know changing large institutions is difficult but come on. Let's get started.

Librarian as Bartender

At Wiscon this year I attended a panel about librarians. There's no surprise there. The connection between avid readers and libraries is natural. As the discussion began people shared some common comparisons or metaphors for libraries and one of them has stuck in my head: the librarian as bartender. Other comparisons were made, to gatekeepers, filters, and guides, but this one interests me.

I think the comparison was apt. Librarians are a bit like providers of drugs to the addicted. I know I'm fascinated by bookshops and libraries, stopping to look through them even when I'm on vacation. Calling librarians pushers for the mind has a frisson of excitement.

Being a librarian can feel like standing on the bulwark between darkness and light. Just look at the ALA website for banned books week or the most commonly challenged books. Librarians should feel a surge of pride as they stand between freedom and censorship.

But of course the very efforts to ban books from libraries shows the double edge of the intellect. For some people the ideas in books are literally dangerous, a threat to their morality. Like the demon rum opposed by prohibitionists there are people who want more control over what others can do and think.

The metaphor of librarians as bartenders confounds freedom, pleasure, addiction, danger, socializing, and consuming. All of them are in the mix. It's heady fun and danger at the same time.

Autocratic Personality and Other Odds

Reading about conservatism and personality is like watching a slow motion car crash. You wish it could be stopped or would just end, but instead it goes on endlessly.

More evidence of this appears in a recent series of essays by Sara Robinson at Orcinus, Dave Neiwert's blog hangout. Neiwert has been a longtime observer of far right wing political groups and an astute commenter on rightwing eliminationist rhetoric. Robinson's series is a summary of the psychology of authoritarianism in part 1, some personal stories about people who escaped authoritarian cultures inpart 2, and suggestions for reaching out to authoritarians to 'bring them over the wall' in part 3. All of them are worth reading and thinking about.

Another blogger who has done a lot on this topic is Arthur Silber. His essays on Alice Miller are especially worthwhile.

Today I ran across a recent article by Rick Perlstein trying to define conservative culture. He sums it up as all about being on the defensive, to feel secure because you think liberals are persecuting you for your beliefs.

I'm reminded of a paper I wrote for a college course about social movements back in the early 1990s. I wanted to understand how people could be stridently anti-abortion and pro death penalty at the same time. I still haven't been able to rationalize that one for myself, but plenty of people still believe it.

Sometimes It's Better to Laugh

Random fact generators are great. Via Chrononautic log I found this Bruce Schneier fact generator. A few refreshes produced these favorites:

  • There is an otherwise featureless big black computer in Ft. Meade that has a single dial with three settings: Off, Standby, and Schneier.
  • There is no Information Theory. Just data that Bruce Schneier allows to be quantified and transmitted on a channel.
  • Bruce Schneier got a perfect score on his comp-sci degree. Just by writing Bruce Schneier for every answer.
  • Bruce Schneier whistles white noise.

The internet may not get us any closer to utopia but at least it will keep me laughing and entertained. Bread and circuses 'till the end!

Link to the real Bruce Schneier.

Of course stumbling across this forced me to relive the joys of the Chuck Norris fact generator and they fight crime.

Anchors for the Learning Community

One of the topics that has been at the top of my mind over the last few months of summer has been learning communities. Universities, colleges, and schools play a very important part in education, but they shouldn't be the only game in town. So I ask myself, what would a true learning community look like?

Here are some existing institutions that have inspired me and might be useful as seeds for supporting learning communities.

  • Libraries
  • Book Clubs
  • Philosophy clubs, a la Socrate's Cafe.
  • Toastmasters
  • Linux user groups and other related techie communities
  • Science fiction conventions
  • the 'unconference movement'
  • Professional associations.
  • Amateur astronomers. Links out to the 'prosumer' idea and also raises interesting connections regarding academic and non-academic collaboration.
  • distributed knowledge sharing a la delicious, furl, all the social bookmarking services, wikipedia

A random search on Google turned up Creating Learning Communities which looks promising and has some active mailing lists for discussing the issue.

I think I've been interested in this idea ever since I read The Day I Became an Autodidact by Kendall Hailey. I loved the audacity at the time, although I didn't choose to avoid college. Reading the reviews on Amazon is intriguing, alternating between high praise and complaints about life as an over-privileged teenager. She's even made it onto a Wikepedia stub and a streaming interview from 1988 is online. As one person at Amazon commented the interview has to be heard to believe the 'mannered, Hepburnesque' style of Hailey's speaking style.

A Pocketful of -archies

A confluence of recent readings have reintroduced me to some -archies I was familiar with and introduced some that were new to me.

I'll begin with holarchy, a term that I've recently encountered in Integral Psychology by Ken Wilber. Wikipedia says the term originated with Arthur Koestler. I've read parts of his Act of Creation but don't remember encountering the idea it that work.

Wilber deploys the term to describe the way complex systems nest inside of each other. For example the material world is built up of atoms, molecules, amino acids, cells, organs, organisms, etc. He uses a similar model across four developmental quadrants - intentional or individual psychological development, behavorial or the physical nervous system, social - or the human community, and cultural - or the group mythical/spiritual realm.

I think he makes a good case for a broad set of developmental constants across individual psychology by drawing from the contemporary work of Maslow, Kohlberg, and many others. The harder part is moving this framework over to the multiple agent sphere of social and cultural interaction. As I said before this area seems to be quite anemic compared to individual developmental studies.

Wilber is not without controversy, but his ideas were stimulating. I hope to explore some more of his work in the future.

Through an email I learned about an interview with Paul Hartzog at Meme Therapy. Hartzog is a proponent of panarchy and maintains panarchy.com.

Hartzog diagnoses the current cultural and political scene thusly: “a conceptual ”war“ is forming into two camps: sharers and proprietors.” On this issue I think he is correct. There is a conflict between sharing and hoarding. The authors of Afflicted Powers would probably characterize this as an outgrowth of 'primitive acquisition', a fundamental part of capitalism. Whether such a Marxian interpretation bears weight I'll leave as a diversion for the reader.

There is a lot of material at the panarchy site that is worth exploring. I'll highlight one item that resonates for me:

A second core principle is that of relational identity. In traditional atomistic/mechanistic ontologies, things are construed as having an independent existence apart from their relationships. Things have properties, and some of those properties may be relational. By contrast, the newer relational ontologies that pervade many disciplines from physics to biology, view relationships as part of what a thing is. In this light, a thing not only enters into relationships, but is in fact constituted by them. Relationships are fundamental to a thing's identity, or self. For an example consider a person's height vs. his identity as a father. His height is a property of his body, but his “fatherness” is not. “Father” is a linguistic way of describing an emergent property that is shared between two members of a communicative structure, i.e. a family.

I connect this with Martin Buber's work I and Thou which emphasizes the dialogic nature of human relationships. Robert Grudin's On Dialogue and James Carse's Finite and Infinite Games are also dispositive.

Finally I'll mention Jon Husbands work on wirearchy which he defines as:

The impact of hyperlinked, horizontal and vertical networks is beginning to be felt, creating new dynamics in organizations and emergent forms of organized endeavours.

A new organizing principle is emerging, called Wirearchy ...

a dynamic two-way flow of power and authority based on information, knowledge, trust and credibility, enabled by interconnected people and technology.

This dynamic swirl of definitions and ideas is part of what makes the networked world of the internet so interesting. A lot of people sense that something different is happening in the world and are trying to define it.

All of this reminds me of my own experience in college. There was a semester or so of time when I thought I had diagnosed all of the major problems of the world. They all stemmed from misused or misshapen hierarchies. To put it moronically - the 'man was keeping us all down.' There's a grain of truth in that statement, but I'm glad to see people pushing the boundaries even further. Good luck to all of them.

The Evolution of Groups

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To the small number of people who might be reading this. I apologize for my loss of control on Thursday. Sometimes there's just too much stupidity to avoid, despite however much I try. I think abandoning television helps a lot. If I'd been watching Fox or CNN instead of listening to the radio two days ago I would've blown a gasket.

So I return to some more questions I have about group formation and dynamics. It may just be me and my lack of understanding or awareness of contemporary research, but it sure feels like there is a lot less know about the development of groups than there is about the development of individuals.

Do groups recapitulate the development of individuals by moving from ego-centered to group-centered moralities? Are groups more influenced by the lowest common denominator or the majority? How has technology improved or worsened these dynamics?

A cursory search of the interwebs brought me back to an intriguing theory I encountered last year at my master's orientation program. Bruce Tuckman's stages - from wikipedia, a summary at an outward bound training site, some other continuums of group evolution

  1. Forming: The group comes together and gets to initially know one other and form as a group.
  2. Storming: A chaotic vying for leadership and trying-out of group processes
  3. Norming: Eventually agreement is reached on how the group operates (norming)
  4. Performing: The group practices its craft and becomes effective in meeting its objectives.
  5. Adjourning: The process of “unforming” the group, that is, letting go of the group structure and moving on.

These came up at orientation because we were being indoctrinated into a standard model of contemporary pedagogy: the team learning approach. I'm personally ambivalent about whether team learning, as it's currently practiced, is really helpful. Sometimes it works, other times it fails miserably and there doesn't seem to be any simple ways to improve it.

I think a big failing of team-based education is the perverse interactions between grades and teamwork. At SI the team projects I've been in have all asked for feedback from each team member about the performance of the other team members. We're essentially asked to grade each other. But how useful is this really?

Everyone eventually gets into a situation where they work on a team with someone who is not pulling their weight. And even worse is when those who are slacking end up getting the credit. The intent of the end of term evaluation is to ameliorate the recognition problem, so those that didn't work get worse grades.

But the semester class is essentially a one-off game. Given a choice between cooperation and defection the incentive is to cooperate to get along, and then deploy the depth charges on the evaluation. Or is it? I sometimes think that but then don't usually act it out. This small group stuff gets confusing fast.

There are a lot of conflicting incentives working in situations like this. There's the individual who wants to get a good grade. There are the teachers who want to be fair but not give into grade inflation. There are the groups that just want to finish the class or the project and get on with other things. And there are the many internal priorities of the students about the importance of each class.

But in my own recent academic adventures there seems to be a solid body of research about the psychology of individuals - how they perceive, interpret, and capture information. And at the opposite end another solid body of research about how mass aggregates of individuals, almost always in the form of markets, perceive, capture, and interpret information. The core class at SI on Choice and Cognition, 502, fits directly into this mode.

If anyone has any suggestions for other places to look for interesting information on groups feel free to leave a comment.

On the Unimaginable

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I made a mistake tonight. I turned on the radio to listen to the news about the foiled terrorist attack discovered in the United Kingdom. Over and over again the news anchors, the commentators, and even the police used the word 'unimaginable' to describe the plot. The root of all this hyperventilating seems to have come from this quote:

Paul Stephenson, Deputy Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, said: “We are confident that we have disrupted a plan by terrorists to cause untold death and destruction and commit mass murder. This was intended to be mass murder on an unimaginable scale.”

To tell you the truth I worry about the intelligence of the human race. Constantly.

So before I broke down and had a Network moment I wisely went for a walk. It's a beautiful night here in Ann Arbor, a full moon, and cool temperatures.

So far the outlines of the plot talk about blowing up 10 jumbo jets as they cross the Atlantic. I can think of many words to describe this - horrific, tragic, sadistic, terrifying. But unimaginable just makes whoever says it sound stupid.

Allow me to be crass for a moment and contemplate the possible number of people that might have been killed in a terrorist act like the one described so far. I'll even double the number of planes and put 400 people on each of them. That would leave us with 20 planes times 400 people or 8000 dead. This would be tragic. I hope such an event never happens.

But to say that this is an unimaginable scale of violence or mass murder is to ignore all of the history of the twentieth century. Human beings have routinely killed each other in mass murder at a scale much higher than 8,000 or 10,000 deaths. That number of dead people is small potatoes. For example:

So I implore the reporters and journalists to stop. Stop using this phrase. It is meaningless. All it does is create fear.

But my expectations are low. Today I'm ready to believe that journalists are too stupid to change. They are sheep. I try not to judge a group of people based on the actions of individuals, but this may be the end of the pass I can give to journalists. You do good work but first learn what the English language actually means, and study some damn history.

What really worries me are politicians and public officials using this rhetoric. They are paid to imagine the unimaginable in order to protect all of us. I'm an amateur. If the professionals can't imagine these things then we really are in trouble.

I actually believe there are sober professionals who do imagine these things and they are the ones who caught the terrorists today. But anyone who appears in the media seems suspect.

Boing Boing weighs in with more silliness about liquid explosives in crowds

Finally this statement by President Bush angers me almost as much as his request for us to all go shopping after 9/11.

“This country is safer than it was prior to 9/11,” Bush said with Air Force One behind him. “We've taken a lot of measures to protect the American people. But obviously we're still not completely safe, because there are people that still plot and people who want to harm us for what we believe in.”

In what was an apparent reference to this year's controversies over the administration's surveillance programs, Bush told reporters: “It is a mistake to believe there is no threat to the United States of America. And that is why we have given our officials the tools they need to protect our people.”

It's a statement that takes and receives at the same time. Be afraid, but really we're trying. Ah, hang it up already.

The Density of the Other

I was sitting this afternoon in the coffee shop at Borders. There were about a dozen other people sitting in the shop with me, some of them talking on cell phones, reading, or just drinking coffee and talking to each other. I was reading Integral Psychology by Ken Wilber.

Wilber is an interesting read. His basic method and goal is to integrate the perennial philosophies of the pre-modern world with the psychological advances of the modern world. On balance I think he does an admirable job. I was reading his book today because I'm digging deeper into the ideas I started to mention a few days about reflection.

I believe one major problem humans face in today's world is the inability to operate at the higher holistic levels described by Wilber. Wilber's basic point is that there is a 'great nest of being' in the universe that moves from matter to biology, psychology, theology, and mysticism. Each of the succeeding levels encompasses and incorporates the lower levels in a holarchy. Wilber's main project is to show how this evolutionary and developmental view of the world is reproduced and reaffirmed by spiritual, mystical, psychological, and scientific evidence.

I was thinking along similar lines earlier this month. I named my idea reflective practice and part of its core goal was to encourage people to expand the different levels at which they examine their lives and decisions. This grew out of research I was doing into different ethical frameworks people use to discuss copyright. I essentially recreated Wilber's levels of consciousness but for groups instead of people: from the individual to the institutional, communal, professional, governmental, national, global, and universal.

Integral Psychology, at least what I've read so far, is focused on the individual. So far there hasn't been much discussion of groups. But I think it is undeniable that individuals at different times and places operate at many different levels vis-a-vis the groups in which they participate. Here my ideas closely parallel Lawrence Kohlberg's stages of moral development, other inspiration could also be found in Abraham Maslow's hierarchy of needs.

Suppose that moving upward or forward through these levels is a good thing for people to do, that it makes them into better human beings, then what do we do to encourage it? What is the role of education, religion, or parenting?

I'm reminded of a game I used to play with my mother as a child in elementary school. We would sometimes sit on a bench at an amusement park or the mall and 'people watch.' As people walked by we would make up a story about their lives, where they were going, why they were headed that way, their occupations, their families. When I think of that game today I'm flabbergasted by the moral sophistication wrapped in a game to amuse myself. It is a lesson in empathy and understanding of other people that is too easy to forget.

Today in the coffee shop it hit me again - each one of these people sitting next to me is a being that's as complex as myself. They all have their stories to tell.

A similar realization hit me when I was reading philosophy in college. A class on existentialism introduced me to Sartre's bad faith and it underlined the way that we are and are not the roles we play in the world. There is always something more happening, we are free and deny our freedom at the same time. Goffman or Davidson could be read in similar ways.

So thanks mom for the lesson.

Charlie Stross gets things going with a post about the dissipated habits of current science fiction. Chad Orzel says not so fast, you foreigner science fiction hasn't dissipated it's just been outflanked by wacky internet fads. John Scalzi pipes up with a comment about how American just don't care what other people think of our politics and John M. Ford tells it like it is - selective futurism.

I think something has happened to science fiction and fantasy in the last two decades. I don't have the rhetorical flair to sum it up as well as Charlie does. But it nags at me every once in a while.

I recently read Way Station by Clifford Simak, a golden age SF novel published in 1963. At my discussion group meeting about the book we all agreed that the ending was way too trite and too convenient. But the deus ex machina felt trite to someone reading the book in 2006. Today we know that a spiritual machine or an alien technology from the skies isn't going to change our lives for the better overnight. It feels like we've gotten a lot more jaded.

Perhaps the true anomaly isn't pessimism today but the optimism of the past. The middle decades of the twentieth century - the 1950s and 1960s - seem to be the decades that everyone across the political spectrum pines for. Conservatives want to harken back to the safety of some imagined fifties suburban paradise, while liberals long for the fighting faith of the civil rights movement or the certainties of the anti-Vietnam age.

Something odd happened in those decades. A combination of spreading economic prosperity and demographic baby booms altered the self-perception of America. And that can-do perception, the belief that everything can be solved with just a bit more effort, showed up in a genre like science fiction.

Today everything feels muddier. The wars aren't nearly as clear cut, bad guys could be hiding everywhere, the threats are long-range and unpredictable. The war on terrorism doesn't really have an enemy we can put on a poster or sum up in an easy cliche. The changing fortunes of the nation-state and the global economy pose a threat and an opportunity for which our current political structures are unequipped. The threats of global warming, emerging diseases, peak oil, and economic disarray are very different from the everything-could-end-tomorrow-with-the-flick-of-a-switch nuclear scare of the past.

I'm thankful for the end of the Cold War and mutual assured destruction but living in today's muddy world is ideologically hard. And to transform that into fiction may be even harder.

Reflecting

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Among the many writing projects that I've considered pursuing was a series of essays based on gerunds, in English these are nouns formed by adding -ing to the end of verbs. Some examples are falling, reflecting, refracting, wishing, pondering. For example, the essay on falling might have made connections between falling in love, the idea of losing control, the power of gravity, etc. This post isn't that essay, instead it's about reflecting, the gerund du jour.

I'm obsessed with reflection. I'm always gaming out scenarios in my mind, imagining the results of various choices, career paths, activities. In college a friend and I identified it as the 'observer stance.' Somewhere in the back of my mind there's always a part of me that feels reserved to reflect upon the world around me. As a child my grandmother told me that I had “smiling eyes.” It was because I was always on the lookout for the amusing and the absurd in the world and my own situation.

Reflection has its downside. Paralysis by analysis is a real problem. I've felt it myself. Sometimes I've acted after long thought, such as leaving my job to go back to graduate school. Other times I've done nothing and later wished that I'd said or done something. I rarely leave a meeting or class seminar without feeling l'esprit de l'escalier.

Writing at this blog for the last two months has been a very conscious effort in reflecting. The readbacks and reviews that I did at the end of June and July were attempts to manipulate the medium of weblogs into something more reflective and historical.

By their nature and design most weblogs are here today and gone tomorrow. Just like the fishwrap of the daily newspaper. There's nothing wrong with that style or form. Sometimes it is fun to just sit in the river of news and let the world wash over you. Weblogs are incredibly fecund and regular reading of any one can give you an amazing sense for the interests and passions of the people who write them. I even consciously try to read a wide variety of weblogs, it's part of my belief in eclecticism.

But now I'm trying to watch and observe my own stream of consciousness. To see if there are common threads of interest or fascination that might guide me into the future or direct me to new vistas of exploration.

I've been surprised by how little I've written about my experience in school. Part of this is privacy, there were things I wrote about offline during winter semester that I had no intention of sharing in a public forum. Mostly thoughts about other people and disappointments with classes. A lot of self-doubt that was too painful to share with an unknown audience.

I have a folder of weblogs on libraries, information science, and knowledge management that I read regularly. Every week there are stories that I find interesting for my professional development but they don't end up on the weblog. I begin to wonder if I should include more of these items whenever I see others using weblogs to develop professional personas. There's always a nagging doubt whether this public facade is going to gain or lose me a job sometime in the future.

But I press on. It feels better to get these random thoughts off my chest, to share them with a small world. Serendipity may one day come to my aid.

Terrifying Beauty

Tonight's disquisition is a trip down memory lane, following connections as they come. I watched Sunshine State, a film by John Sayles on Friday night. I frequently forget to mention Sayles when someone asks me about my favorite movies or directors. His work is extremely good, but often understated. He almost always uses an ensemble of characters to create a portrait of a particular place at a particular time. Among his best are Matewan and City of Hope.

Sunshine State stars Jane Alexander as a community theater impresario in a small Florida town that is trying to keep land developers out. Seeing Alexander reminded me of one of the most affecting nuclear war movies I saw back in the 1980s - Testament. The Day After and Testament were both released in 1983, the height of Reagan's rhetorical campaign against the 'evil empire' of the Soviet Union. Before glasnost, perestroika, and Gorbachev it felt like the world really was teetering on the brink of nuclear catastrophe. It was more than a feeling.

Fifteen years after the Cold War ended it seems hard to believe that we all lived through 45 years of nuclear brinksmanship. Believing that mutually assured destruction was a rational state of affairs seems ludicrous. But it was official. When Carl Sagan offered his admonition against self-destruction at the end of Cosmos this is what he was thinking about.

Today is the sixty-first anniversary of the United States attack on Hiroshima. I wrote about the sixtieth anniversary last year.

Along with Cosmos, I recently watched a documentary on the atomic bomb tests. Watching these explosions is mesmerizing. It's a terrifying beauty that I find hard to turn away from. The music in the first video makes the aesthetic of destruction even stranger. And there are more musical hybrids on YouTube if you wish to search.

The etymology of bikini may be the ultimate evidence of the strangeness of the whole era.

Aim for the body rare, you'll see it on TV
The worst thing in 1954 was the Bikini
See the girl on the TV dressed in a Bikini
She doesn't think so but she's dressed for the H-Bomb
(For the H-Bomb)
I found that essence rare, it's what I looked for
I knew I'd get what I asked for
Aim for the country fair you read it in the papers
The worst happens any week a scandal on the front page
See the happy pair smiling close like they are monkeys
They wouldn't think so but they're holding themselves down
(Hold themselves down)
I found that essence rare, it's what I looked for
I knew I'd get what I asked for
I found that essence rare, it's what I looked for
I knew I'd get what I asked for
Aim for politicians fair who'll treat your vote hope well
The last thing they'll ever do act in your interest
Look at the world through your polaroid glasses
Things'll look a whole lot better for the working classes
(Working classes)
I found that essence rare, it's what I looked for
I knew I'd get what I asked for
I found that essence rare, it's what I looked for
I knew I'd get what I asked for

Lyrics from here

Pondering

Well Pinky and the Brain is now out on DVD but I'm just sitting around reading: Way Station by Simak, Sign of Four by Conan Doyle, Lord Jim by Conrad, Refuse to Choose by Sher.

More to come tomorrow. A real topic - anniversary and historical combined into one.

The Cool Down

The heat wave has broken, at least here in Michigan. A cold front finally moved through earlier this morning. Yesterday the temperatures were in the mid-90s and the humidity was high. Even at night the lows were only into the 70s and the dewpoints stayed high.

I had hoped to watch some of the lightning and thunderstorms roll through last night. But the storms were moving west to east, just north of Ann Arbor. I could see the lightning on the horizon but not much more. Investigating the National Weather Service web site I finally found the online location to download images. Now I just need to merge these with some GIS software and get some nice pictures.

Visualizing Income Distributions

Clive Crook describes a very interesting visualization exercise for understanding income distribution. The article is in the latest, September 2006, Atlantic Monthly. An excerpt is available on the website. Here's a long quote that starts the story and describes the visualization.

In 1971, Jan Pen, a Dutch economist, published a celebrated treatise with a less-than-gripping title: Income Distribution. The book summoned a memorable image. This is how to think of the pattern of incomes in an economy, Pen said (he was writing about Britain, but bear with me). Suppose that every person in the economy walks by, as if in a parade. Imagine that the parade takes exactly an hour to pass, and that the marchers are arranged in order of income, with the lowest incomes at the front and the highest at the back. Also imagine that the heights of the people in the parade are proportional to what they make: those earning the average income will be of average height, those earning twice the average income will be twice the average height, and so on. We spectators, let us imagine, are also of average height.

Pen then described what the observers would see. Not a series of people of steadily increasing height—that’s far too bland a picture. The observers would see something much stranger. They would see, mostly, a parade of dwarves, and then some unbelievable giants at the very end.

As the parade begins, Pen explained, the marchers cannot be seen at all. They are walking upside down, with their heads underground—owners of loss-making businesses, most likely. Very soon, upright marchers begin to pass by, but they are tiny. For five minutes or so, the observers are peering down at people just inches high—old people and youngsters, mainly; people without regular work, who make a little from odd jobs. Ten minutes in, the full-time labor force has arrived: to begin with, mainly unskilled manual and clerical workers, burger flippers, shop assistants, and the like, standing about waist-high to the observers. And at this point things start to get dull, because there are so very many of these very small people. The minutes pass, and pass, and they keep on coming. Advertisement

By about halfway through the parade, Pen wrote, the observers might expect to be looking people in the eye—people of average height ought to be in the middle. But no, the marchers are still quite small, these experienced tradespeople, skilled industrial workers, trained office staff, and so on—not yet five feet tall, many of them. On and on they come.

It takes about forty-five minutes—the parade is drawing to a close—before the marchers are as tall as the observers. Heights are visibly rising by this point, but even now not very fast. In the final six minutes, however, when people with earnings in the top 10 percent begin to arrive, things get weird again. Heights begin to surge upward at a madly accelerating rate. Doctors, lawyers, and senior civil servants twenty feet tall speed by. Moments later, successful corporate executives, bankers, stock­brokers—peering down from fifty feet, 100 feet, 500 feet. In the last few seconds you glimpse pop stars, movie stars, the most successful entrepreneurs. You can see only up to their knees (this is Britain: it’s cloudy). And if you blink, you’ll miss them altogether. At the very end of the parade (it’s 1971, recall) is John Paul Getty, heir to the Getty Oil fortune. The sole of his shoe is hundreds of feet thick.

...

This is true in every economy, but in some more than others. Back when Pen wrote his book, incomes were already more skewed in America than in Britain. Over the past thirty-five years, and especially over the past ten, that top-end skewness has greatly increased. The weirdness of the last half minute of today’s American parade—even more so the weirdness of the last few seconds, and above all the weirdness of the last fraction of a second—is vastly greater than that of the vision, bizarre as it was, described by Pen.

I think this kind of stuff is brilliant. I remember reading somewhere that about 20 percent of people in the United States think they are in the top 1 percent of the income distribution. So a lot of confusion about income distribution in America is due to perception. Scott Winship echoes this idea at the Democratic Strategist while discussing a recent paper by economist Jacob Vigdor.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly for the Kansas question, Vigdor’s theory predicts that if voters compare themselves to people who are in a similar economic situation, then working- and middle-class voters should be less likely than poor or rich voters to support the Democrats. That’s because of the particular way that income is distributed in the U.S.

As income increases from $0 to a working-class income, the number of people at each income level gets larger and larger. That means that more often than not, when people in this income range (“the poor”) compare themselves to other poor people, they will find that there are more poor people doing better than them than worse. They will thus tend to support redistribution.

On the other hand, as income increases from a working-class income to an upper-middle-class income, the number of people at each income level gets smaller and smaller. When people in this income range (“the working and middle classes”) compare themselves to other similarly-situated people, they will find (more often than not) that there are more working- and middle-class people doing worse than them than better. Consequently, they will tend to oppose redistribution.

Finally, as income increases from an upper-middle-class income to an upper-class income, the number of people at each income level continues to get smaller and smaller, but the decline is not very steep. When the rich compare themselves to their peers, they will tend to find that there are nearly as many people doing worse than them as there are doing better. The rich will tend to be indifferent toward redistribution.

Cosmos and Carl Sagan's Legacy

Over the weekend I decided to rewatch Carl Sagan's Cosmos, in addition to the fascinating, but depressing, movies about war that I've been harping about recently. Sagan is one of my personal heroes and television show Cosmos was one of the formative viewing experiences of my youth. I remember hearing people imitate his voice on 'billions and billions' or seeing him on Johnny Carson with my grandmother.

So last night I sat down on my couch and watched the first episode of Cosmos, “The Shores of the Cosmic Ocean.” I was astonished, it is even better than I remember. The DVD edition was released in 2000 and it looks much better than the VHS version I watched last decade. The music, the writing, the concepts, the visuals are some of the best documentary filmmaking that has ever been done.

I think the biggest lesson and some of the most powerful images and metaphors from the series are attempts to explain the scale of the cosmos. Take the idea of the cosmic calendar. Sagan asks the viewer to compress 15 billion years of history into a single year and then to focus on the very tiny sliver of time at the end of the year when humans first arise. The first show concludes thus:

Down here the first humans made their debut around 10:30 pm on December 31st and with the passing of every cosmic minute, each minute 30,000 years long, we began the arduous journey towards understanding where we live and who we are.

11:46 only 14 minutes ago, humans have tamed fire.

11:59:20, the evening of last day of the cosmic year, the eleventh hour, the 59th minute, the 20th second, the domestication of plants and animals begins, an application of the human talent for making tools.

11:59:35, settled agricultural communities evolve into the first cities. We humans appear on the cosmic calendar so recently that our recorded history occupies only the last few seconds of the last minute of December 31st.

In the vast ocean of time which this calendar represents, all our memories are confined to this small square. Every person we've ever heard of lived somewhere in there, all those kings and battles, migrations and inventions, wars and loves, everything in the history books, happens here in the last 10 seconds of the cosmic calendar.

We on earth have just awakened to the great oceans of space and time from which we have emerged. We are the legacy of 15 billion years of cosmic evolution. We have a choice, we can enhance life and come to know the universe that made us or we can squander our 15 billion year heritage in meaningless self-destruction. What happens in the first second of the next cosmic year depends on what we do, here and now, with our intelligence and our knowledge of the cosmos.

I listen to it and my mind is blown. The last sentences summarize the best aspects of a humanist vision of our lives on Earth. It's up to us.

Here's an appreciation of Carl that includes a great quote on facing death. Richard Feynman said something similar. An article on restoring Cosmos for DVD release. Even with all our technology archival issues never cease, as the whole Library of Alexandria episode demonstrates.