what would truth do?

Paul Graham posted this in the summer, which included this quote that I want to comment on today:

"I sometimes ask students what their position on slavery would have been had they been white and living in the South before abolition. Guess what? They all would have been abolitionists!"

Graham's essay uses this quote to make the point that unless you are an "aggressive independent-minded" type, that is, not predisposed to either conformity or passivity, you are unlikely to have been an abolitionist.

I think there is a simpler analysis. Why not instead list what actions an abolitionist of the time - Harriet Tubman, Frederick Douglass, Sojourner Truth - would take if alive today? It would be pretty easy to take that list of actions, compare it to your current life, and get a rough idea of whether you would have been an abolitionist in those days.

proper corona admin, vol xlvi - the first thing

As long suffering TOA readers know, I'm a major advocate for rules of thumb, regularly collecting quotes or phrases to guide my various self-improvement projects. I often catch these ideas drifting through my mind right as I'm about to make an error. For example, just yesterday I reminded myself one thing at a time when I realized a second topic had bubbled to the surface of a work email. And of course, at some point on every run I'll recall lean forward, choppy strides, usually at the exact moment I sense my shoulders tilting back, the clearest signal that my technique is drifting away from the standard.

In terms of writing, I've long thought when an ending appears, grab it was my best rule of thumb. I understand many writers wrestle with endings, their ceaseless struggle to pin down the muse locked in fruitless grappling, so I felt fortunate to have the assurance that if I chose to keep going, I would win by decision, and reach the finish line. As the old saying goes, it's always the last thing, but it doesn't come until the end.

But in the early days of The Great Lockdown, I discovered a new foe - The Beginning. The beginning had never been a problem before, mostly because even in my most prolific days I gave myself two to four weeks of lead time for each post. The opening line probably never came easy, but it never seemed like a problem. I was like the gazelle living in the land without cheetahs - it never occurred to me to worry about a lack of speed.

I turned to my alumni network but, alas, I learned that Internet University has no graduates in the field of Getting Started - in fact, the internet seems to have a special attraction for procrastinators. It seemed like the writers who can do it should be sponsored by Nike because they just do it, and have no insight into their own gift. There is a common extension of this problem when these naturals still try to explain their ability, like the baseball players who talk about seeing the ball before hitting it (science says it is impossible to 'see' the ball - it means the skill is different than the explanation, perhaps unexplainable, not that these players are unskilled). On the other hand, people who can't just get started are given the blanket diagnosis "writer's block" and prescribed a random assortment of remedies including going for a long walk, going for a short walk, or playing with toys.

It's possible I'm in denial, maybe I'm just one prompt-a-day calendar away from solving my problem, but I always felt that my issue was a little different. I knew what I wanted to do, I just couldn't get my word count from zero to one. My situation resembled more of a functional issue, like an office worker who found his tires slashed during lunch break. I knew what I wanted to do - call the police, fix the tires, cancel my next meeting - I just didn't know what to do first.

I eventually went back to the source, and dug out another winner - just say the most important sentence first. It's great advice (and by the way, combining it with when an ending appears, grab it is an unassailable Twitter strategy). The problem I've had with writing is my set of ideas about writing - I should have an intro sentence or paragraph, there should be a buildup of arguments or ideas (preferably in threes), I should acknowledge other points of view. In other words, my recurring problem is worrying about ornaments before I have the tree. It's not like I should or shouldn't do any of those things, but decorations go across leaves, petals, and branches. The writer who worries about any of that before planting the seed of the idea is as crazy as the writer who ends the piece with the first thing that popped into his head.

science v statistics (a pre-theory)

"A good scientist, in other words, does not merely ignore conventional wisdom, but makes a special effort to break it." - from Paul Graham's Hackers and Painters

I've thought for a long time about how often science is misused as a label. It started in college when I noticed how certain subjects - including political science, behavioral science, and notably, economics (because it was often referred to as a 'social science') - referred to themselves as sciences despite deviating from the scientific method whenever doing so proved convenient, conventional, or uncontroversial.

Using my somewhat narrow and certainly 'true on average' definition for scientific process (observe, try to break, and test under strict experimental conditions), it seems to me that the opposite of science is statistics. This is not because statistics necessarily fails to do those things. I remember many economics lessons where our class discussed an observation, the attempts to model it, and the results which proved or disproved the hypothesis.

But in statistics, a 95% likelihood in is good enough to represent fact. Some say that zero to non-zero is the biggest quantifiable jump - if so, the move from 'not 100%' to '100%' is surely the only relevant runner-up.

The key to knowing whether a given topic is science is found in the quote at the top of the post. The sole reason a scientist tries to break conventional wisdom is because, once broken, there is no repair. This is not quite how it works with statistics.

In statistics, a rock which suddenly floated off the ground would be described as 'variation' or 'error'. It would be noted with bemusement but the event would likely pass without further incident. In science, a rock doing the same would not be dismissed as a single fluke observation among many other well behaved rocks - it would be known as The End of Gravity and usher in a new era of scientific progress.

Now, the statistical approach is far from the worst mentality. In many cases, rigorous statistical analysis is the only possible approach. But statistics is useful only if applied to the correct problem and only if the measured inputs are perfectly understood. Otherwise, the key step of aggregating the results is marred with possible bias or distortion.

If a field deludes itself into considering its statistical approach 'scientific', what's the worst that can happen? I think there are two potentially significant ramifications.

First, it makes reversing the accepted wisdom a much more difficult task. I used to wonder what took so long for scientists to figure out that smoking was a major health risk; when I realized how not every 'two packs a day for two decades' smoker got lung cancer, I stopped wondering. The problem of proving the harm of a cigarette was not scientific question but a statistical one because every lifelong smoker with a healthy set of lungs disputed the hypothesis that smoking causes cancer.

The scientific problem thus redefined as a statistical one, the task became to show how an addiction to cigarette smoking reduced quality of life and increased the likelihood of a smoking-induced death. Unfortunately, to do this properly required carefully comparing groups with similar-enough characteristics to identify cigarette smoking as the lone factor influencing different health outcomes. To do such a thing properly using the methods of statistics took, unfortunately, a lifetime.

The second ramification is how it may tempt those with something to lose into leaning heavily on special-case explanations. I could again return to cigarettes here and discuss all the ways tobacco companies fought against research projects into their products. But let's instead imagine if the 16th century world viewed the 'flat Earth' idea in a statistical way. Magellan's descendants would probably still be sailing in circles around the globe, seeking a significant p-value to prove their hypothesis! Science proved a much more efficient guide in this case because it knew the Earth wasn't flat if someone sailed one way and came back from the other. Magellan did it and that was that.

I'd like to acknowledge the reverse of the argument here, even if it risks discrediting ('discrediting') the title of this post, I do not really see this as a one or the other issue. I see science as the combination of Questions Without Answers and Questions Definitively Answered. Statistics occupies a strange in-between: Questions Prematurely But Probably Answered. It sounds stupid when I phrase it that way, of course, but it's totally understandable. A different way to describe the above:  conclusions from good statistics often predicts future science. Again, clunky, but the main idea here is the role statistical methods play in fulfilling a basic human need to understand how the world works. Like any product serving a need, statistical results have a healthy market share and will maintain that market share until something better comes along.

I don't prefer one approach to the other despite my tone thus far in this post. I studied statistics all through college and I believe in its approach when applied correctly. And sometimes, I acknowledge the methods of science take a very long time. It is understandable in such cases if people look around for a faster way. But acquiring a taste for cookie dough is no way to resolve the problem of waiting for cookies to finish baking.

I think the key is to know when one approach is more appropriate than the other. Someone able to do this well will have a world of opportunity open up for them. The challenge in determining if a new observation refutes a known truth (science) or if it simply is something to keep in mind for later (statistics) is no doubt a difficult one. But as we continue to accelerate the pace of accumulating irrelevant data about every aspect of our lives, I cannot think of a skill more important to have for navigating the unseen challenges of the future.

the escalator analogy

I was riding the escalator up to the front entrance of my office when I was struck by a sudden memory. The incident I recalled happened over ten years ago. I was getting a ride to a summer basketball game from one of my teammates. We were stopped at a red light behind a line of cars. As the light turned green, we watched the cars in front of us slowly start to move forward. One by one, the cars accelerated in sequence until the space in front of us was clear. We had only just started to move forward when the light in front of us turned yellow, then red. We stopped.

My teammate hit the top of the steering wheel in frustration.

“You know what would be great,” he said. “If everyone knew that when the light turned green, you would accelerate at the same time. That way, everyone would be moving at the same speed and no one would crash. And, more people would get through the green light in time.”

I don’t remember what I thought of the idea at the time – maybe I thought it sounded similar to the kind of humor Seinfeld became famous for. I do know what I think about it now, however – my former teammate would have no chance at a corporation. In a corporation, the sheer volume of employees creates an internal inertia that makes it hard for any individual to ever move at top speed. To put it another way, in a corporation a green light might mean having to wait for the seven thousand people in front of you to start driving before you are able to move.

I remember once reading an essay Paul Graham wrote about this idea. His analogy of choice was a galley ship. On the ship, everyone could row in synch and the boat would move at a steady clip. However, there would inevitably be people would could row faster than their colleagues. These rowers could never make the ship move faster, however, just by rowing harder – the boat would simply be too big. When people leave big companies to form their own smaller competitors, this is essentially what is going on – it would be like the ten best rowers deciding they could move faster if they were rowing as hard as they could on a smaller boat.

The escalator was the obvious place for me to think about this. The escalator into our office building is single file and therefore unable to accommodate multiple people entering the building at a time. As a result, usually a line forms at the foot of the escalator as my colleagues wait to get into the building. It creates a situation where everyone is moving as fast as possible at all times yet moving much slower than their actual top speed. It’s the perfect analogy for the start of my workday – we’re all going as fast as we can... wink wink... but in reality we know we aren’t really going very fast at all.

i read a song flung up to heaven so you don't have to

A Song Flung Up To Heaven by Maya Angelou (March 2018)

I wrapped up my project to read all of Maya Angelou’s autobiographies with this volume that picks up right after she returns from Africa and begins to work with Malcolm X. As usual, I found her absorbing writing peppered with valuable ideas and insights.

One thought I liked was Angelou’s observation that stereotypes exist to keep people comfortable. Instead of learning about others and trying to relate across our differences with new people, a stereotype encourages separation from others and keeps us in the familiar comfort zones of customs, preferences, and routines. Stereotypes also create a dangerous illusion that surface characteristics, features, or preferences permanently define groups of people. Someone who sees other groups through the lens of a stereotype strikes me as being uncomfortable with how life changes and ill-equipped to contribute meaningfully to the ongoing challenge of making the world a better place.

I felt the idea that teaching means helping a student learn to do the right thing without help was a great summation of the purpose of education. I notice a lot of teachers start to become less effective as soon as they get too involved with a lesson. Once a teacher shifts from guiding a student to showing and telling, the student becomes less likely to learn how to do something without help later. As The Good Ol’ Interwebs continues to make information more accessible, teachers must adjust by focusing less on imparting knowledge and focusing more on helping students learn what to do with the glut of information available to anyone with an internet connection.

I liked the observation that when someone tells you who he or she is, you should believe it because people know themselves. Of course, the obvious problem with the idea is that it isn’t always true. In fact, from my experience a lot of people have a somewhat deluded view of themselves and I worry that believing everyone unconditionally would only encourage more of these misguided self-reflections. Still, I believe in the spirit of the thought and I’m sure there is a better way to express the idea out there somewhere.

This final volume of Angelou’s autobiographies ends with her putting pen to paper on the first volume, I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings. It seemed like an unplanned ending (in the context of her plan, if she had one, when she started writing these books). As I reflected on the ending, I was reminded of some writing advice I pulled from the end of this Paul Graham essay about writing – when an ending appears, grab it.

reading review - the accusation

The Accusation by Bandi (April 2018)

The Accusation is a recently published book of short stories from (and about) North Korea. The entire story about how the author, Bandi, managed to get this collection out of the country is described in the last section of the book and is well worth a read.

Of the seven or so stories in The Accusation, I reread ‘City of Specters’ and ‘On Stage’. The latter in particular has stayed with me since I finished the book. The story features many of the anti-totalitarian themes present throughout the collection but emphasizes them a step further by framing them in the context of acting. Bandi’s insight that a totalitarian regime will never allow its best actors to fully express their gifts can be easily interpreted as a metaphor for how such regimes demand complete acceptance of party ideology at the expense of self-expression, improvisation, and spontaneity.

In a larger sense, The Accusation is about how a totalitarian regime punishes deviation. The fear of suffering the consequences for sticking out serves as an essential survival skill for the average citizen. Whether the deviating event is a suddenly ill parent, a baby who cries at the wrong time, or an isolated moment from acting school, the consistent tension in these stories centers around how Bandi’s characters suffer from the everyday deviations we in free societies think little about.

One up: I liked the observation that people sometimes punish themselves by striking out at what is most important to them. These moments hint at lives where emotions are suppressed or actions are closely monitored. A sincere and genuine life is not possible in such circumstances because people will always opt for conformity ahead of self-expression.

I also liked the thought that domesticated creatures can only free themselves by breaking their restraints. A wild animal is tamed by being taught to return to the cage. The first step for helping these animals return to their natural state is to break the cage so that their reference point is lost forever.

One down: Although we in the USA live in essentially the exact opposite society of North Korea, there are some uncomfortable similarities in our democratic ways with life under totalitarian rule. The fear of sticking out is very much alive and well here (especially for those who spend large portions of their time in closed worlds) and our loyalty to maintaining order results in the highly conforming public behavior Bandi outlines in many passages in The Accusation (1).

Perhaps a good rule of thumb for determining how likely something is to resemble a scene from life in a totalitarian state is to consider the amount of tradition involved. In almost all cases, a tradition requires strict conformity to maintaining established order and anyone who deviates is penalized for sticking out.

Just saying: ‘On Stage’ makes a point about how all North Koreans are actors – they must portray a certain public character at all times to survive in the regime. The best ‘actors’ are those who draw not just on their few years of schooling but rather from their entire lifetime of maintaining a certain persona.

I think this is an important lesson that I’ve seen for myself. At work, for example, I’ve always felt that those with distinct professional and personal selves were far less effective than colleagues who simply carried themselves in the same way whether they were on the job or not. I do not think there is any special explanation for this outside of simple math – the pure professional can only draw on so many years of professional experience whereas the full person has an entire lifetime of experience to draw from.