It is early morning where I am, and I have already been reminded of a vital life lesson learnt from microwaves and treadmills.
Time cannot be hastened, no matter how much hand-wringing, arm-flailing, random cursing and wishful watching of the clock one indulges in.
Others have said more eloquent things and some not-so-eloquent things about time too.
Recently I noticed that on Blogger blogs, a commenter has three options:
use a Google or Blogger account;
stay anonymous;
or choose something called ‘Nickname’ whatever that means.
Notice something? There is no more the possibility to provide a link to the commenter’s own blog unless he/ she has a Blogger-hosted blog.
In practice, this just means that those with blogs on Wordpress, Typepad, Vox etc cannot cross-promote their blogs while commenting on Blogger-hosted blogs.
Is it fair? Probably not but free services are not warranted and EULA conditions change all the time, so nobody can complain and Google/ Blogger is within their rights to do this.
Does it matter? Probably it does, to those whose Technorati ranking matters to them. Also because it may stifle some debate in the blogosphere.
Does anyone care? This is a tougher one. You tell me. Do you?
Indian women from the UK are reportedly travelling to India now in order to get gender determination tests on the sly and to terminate female foetuses. Bloody marvellous, this perverse application of outsourcing to India!
The optimist in me wants to find an upside. Here is what I think: if we keep killing female foetuses at this rate, soon there will be nobody left to bear male offspring either.
This must be a good thing, no?
On reflection, not really.
Dejapseu, Une Femme d’un Certain Age, has tagged me for a meme. I understand I am to enumerate 8 random things about myself, which may interest people other than, er, me…
Ooh, I must admit upfront that I find myself endlessly fascinating. Jokes aside, I know more about my mental processes now than I did when I was in my teens, although I think I reflected more then than I do now. Should this be a random fact? I do not know but here is my stab at the list.
1. I have a weird relationship with numbers. My head is full of random numbers. Of random lengths from 2-3 digits to 8 or 9 digits. I remember phone numbers, addresses, pin/ zip/ post codes, birthdays, anniversaries. I am also known to check the number plates of cars passing by to see if they are divisible by 9 or if they could be products of prime numbers and prime numbers alone.
2. I plot tunes as wave forms in my head. These waveforms, while amusing to me, do not really help when I try to replicate the tunes on the piano.
3. I have a photographic memory which engages and manifests randomly. Sometimes I remember entire conversations, word for word, complete with where we were, who else was present, what date it was, where we went before or after that conversation. Sometimes I remember entire pages of books or of things I have written. Sometimes, however, I just cannot recall entire interactions with some people, however long (I think it suggests that the whole thing was so boring that I switched off and started day-dreaming.)
4. Hearing the words ‘lemon’ and ‘tamarind’ makes me salivate.
5. I know lyrics to nearly all the songs I have heard and liked. Mostly in English, Hindi and Urdu but some in other languages too. My father taught me to analyse Urdu poetry when I was as young as 7 or 8 (yes, I was brought up that liberally! Not even ghazals containing references to sharab, meaning liquor, saqi, meaning one who serves liquor, ishq, meaning a sort of divine love etc were out of bounds. And for the record, I do not drink.)
6. I used to write fan mail to ABBA but I have a sneaky suspicion that my father never quite posted those letters to Agnetha Åse Fältskog (the blonde one, if you are confused).
7. When things come at or towards me, I close my eyes. Which makes me pretty useless at most ball games, badminton and general catch or tag games. The less said about my driving abilities, the better.
8. I have friends who follow the following religions: Hinduism, Islam, Christianity (Catholic, Protestant, Jesuit, Reformed and lapsed), Judaism, Zoroastrianism, Buddhism, Shintoism, Baha’i faith. I myself am not religious, do not believe in God, consider Hindu mythology a part of my cultural rather than religious heritage, and practise something called “Buddy-ism”, a term for which I am grateful to my Swiss friend RLO. Buddy-ism is a form of friendship which requires lifelong loyalty and deep affection, with a sense of ownership and a duty to speak up.
Whom should I tag now? This is the 9th thing. I am very decisive with important and big stuff but sometimes I analyse small things so much that they paralyse my decision-making process. But I am going to be decisive this time.
I tag Rambodoc, Rambler, Alice, Ruhi and Siriusminor.
Now chop-chop, get on with it, guys! (This is the 10th thing; not only am I working all the time, I also slave-drive all others around me!).
… find today’s instalment about 7-year old girls anxious about body image, about parents and physical activity, and a glimmer of hope in American obesity stats, here.
Dr Manmohan Singh, Prime Minister of India, says “Cambridge made me!“. Hmm.
Some of the alumni he mentions are also nothing to sneeze at.
“Which idiot put the letter ’s’ in ‘lisp’?”
Exactly! I too want to know.
The following are the 5 most intriguing search phrases that seem to be driving traffic to this blog (my reactions follow in italics):
Indians are the most intelligent people
career meat-eating women (What is this???)
the negotiable cow (WTF?)
only fat white women marry hindu men (Exactly why does this string bring people here?)
diagrams of vegetarians (I am so amused, I want to run this search and see…)
Long post alert!
As information overload grows, it seems the world is getting lost in translation. This confusion and lack of clear communication goes beyond linguistic and grammatical faux pas. The problem is more serious and manifests in many ways. However the smallest hope of comprehension finds itself inextricably lodged in the cracks, some feel chasms, between disciplines and specialisations.
Examples abound around us. What does it mean to a non-numerate person when the weather forecaster says there is 1-in-15 chance of a shower today? Should he leave his umbrella at home or take it anyway? What does it mean when a business reporter says that the sub-prime crisis was precipitated by the excessive lending by banks to ninjas? (No, not the mutant turtles or Japanese specialist warriors, but people who have No Incomes, No Jobs!).
There is buzz in the blogosphere, predictably.
Paul Sunstone at Café Philos calls this frustration in communication the irony of our times. He argues that specialization is fragmenting each of our societies into expert little niches that often do not understand one another.
Harini Calamur brings up the annoying presumption of newspaper editors that abstruse, specialist terms are comprehensible to the wider readership. She wonders if India’s leading business broadsheet, the Economic Times, has slashed its research budget. The counter, she suggests, is that readers should all send the editors at ET links to Google so that the need for clarification gets through.
Nita goes further deeper and discusses prejudices held against humanities graduates; the ensuing discussion on her post delves into why early specialisation in secondary school could be contributing to narrower and narrower education, as well as less and less cross-disciplinary understanding.
On a hopeful note, Paul Kedrosky mentions noticing an upward trend in business channels on television in the US asking their specialists to explain their business jargon. His only gripe is that the guests should be warned in advance, so that they do not look shell-shocked.
I see many issues brewing here.
The first is naturally if it is good to rely on experts. Apparently not always. In simpler words, never ask a barber if you need a haircut.
But there are others too. Why are we concerned about understanding specialists? Is this a real problem? What is the best way to fix it - instant or slow-burn systemic? Whose responsibility is it then - the one who is explaining or the one who wishes to understand - to fill the gaps? Is there an ideal type of person for disentangling specialist mysteries for ordinary people?
There is only so much I can explore in a blog post but I hope the ‘comments’ section will bring more insights.
I must start with a clarification. My education is multidisciplinary spanning both sciences and humanities, with a great degree of self-learning thrown in for good measure. So I have been a lot at the ‘asking’ end, and as a debt to the universe, now increasingly at the ‘explaining’ end of things.
Is there a problem, or is there a need for specialists to be understood by others?
Paul Sunstone argues that there is such a need, as people of one specialisation are increasingly using products made by other specialists.
I wonder if this really is any different from how the world has always been? In old days, a butcher sold meat, a cobbler made shoes and bought meat from the butcher, who bought his shoes from the cobbler. None needed to know how the other did his work. But I could also demolish my own argument by saying that the products we use now are more complex and require us to be more savvy. But surely the answer lies in design specialists aiming to make products more intuitive, not in users becoming more adept at what we politely called the instruction to RTFM* in the IT industry.
So is this a real problem?
May be. We do not know. It is entirely possible that the information overload is making people more curious in general. It is probably more likely that the overload requiring us to lead more stylised lives**, which we wish to simplify by seeking answers in sound-bytes so we can appear more knowledgeable than we really are.
My money is on the latter. In my experience, many a time, people ask questions without realising that the answer is neither simple nor laconic. These questions usually begin with ‘how’ or ‘why’. The answer is rarely 2 lines. Then as the truth emerges, I can see them yawning, physically leaning away and realising that they really did not care that much, after all.
If you doubt any of this, try explaining - honestly, briefly - the sub-prime crisis to someone and what it means for them, without using jargon. Let me know how you get on.
Whose responsibility is it then - the one who is explaining or the one who wishes to understand - to fill the gaps? Is there an ideal type of person for disentangling specialist mysteries for ordinary people?
In other words, does the solution lie in, for instance, cornering specialists mid-interview? Paul Kedrosky’s post suggests this is becoming increasingly popular. I am not sure this is appropriate. Financial shows are hardly being watched by totally illiterate people who cannot comprehend the issues being discussed.
Or does the solution lie in running to Google like Harini suggests? That, by the way, would be the self-help option that I prefer. If I wish to understand something, I owe it to myself to find out more. But then again, some others I know have different views.
Both these possible options however put the responsibility on either the specialist or the ordinary consumer of information.
Assuming however that lack of understanding is a genuine issue, neither of these is a systemic answer, nor is either of them a sustainable or scalable solution to the problem.
Ben Casnocha, who is at University at the moment, recently wrote about the value of people who can bridge the gap between disciplines. I do not know what he is studying but it will sure be interesting to know how his views on this issue and his life choices evolve. A similar argument is made by Jonathan Guthrie in the FT, who suggests there is a need for intermediaries, who can translate between disciplines. Not unlike an interpreter at a UN conference perhaps?
In my view, the systemic solution lies in encouraging multi- and cross- disciplinary training. Not for all, but definitely for some, who are so inclined.
Am I contradicting myself on that it is “apparently not always” good to rely on experts? Not really. It is a nuanced difference, not a contradiction.
I am not in favour of narrow expertise, the kind that does not interact with other disciplines, the kind that does not face innocent curiosity nor thorough scrutiny of the methods of other disciplines. There are arguments to be made in medical specialisations such as should a neurosurgeon care about cosmetic surgery? I cannot comment on it - I do not know enough and I do not know any surgeons who can talk about both specialisations.
However I am in favour of those who wish to become experts across the boundaries of narrow disciplines. For instance, those who can translate laboratory science into commercial opportunities. Or those, who can apply principles of evolutionary psychology to explaining market transactions and fundamentals of economics. It is just that much richer an understanding of things and that much closer to real problem-solving than narrow disciplinary training prepares us for.
I believe such multidisciplinary adventurers and interpreters should be encouraged, celebrated, supported and listened to.
This sounds easier than it is in practice. At least in the UK, cross- and multi- disciplinary endeavours find little or no research or education funding. In other words, there are few systemic incentives for such intermediaries and interpreters. So those, who are keen, like me, put our money where our mouths are. Which further means that those of us, who become successful interpreters of this kind, then exploit the market to address the information asymmetries. Why not? After all, we did put our money where our mouths were, did we not? And we rightly expect and exact appropriate returns.
The harder way of course is to learn in the school of life. It just takes that wee bit longer and real life mistakes, although a great teacher, often cost a lot more money.
If you have experienced, or benefited from, any such cross-disciplinary translation and interpretation, do share your experience. I am sure this discussion is ripe for developing.
What can we possibly lose? Nothing.
What can we possibly gain? A better understanding! Isn’t that what we are after, after all?
—————–
* Stands for: Read The Fucking Manual!
** I have linked to the cartoon but not stuck it here because I cannot find direct attribution on LL website.
A survey of the students of the New York University (NYU) suggests that most students say their vote has a price. While 90% said that voting is very important, two-thirds would give up their vote for a year’s tuition, 20% would exchange their vote for an iPod touch and 66% would give up their vote for a free ride to NYU. Interestingly enough, half said they’d give up the right to vote forever for $1 million.
Economists have long argued that voting is futile. It has a cost in terms of time and productivity, but it yields no clear benefit, except as Dubner and Levitt argue, a vague sense of having done one’s civic duty. It appears that the message is being overwhelmingly bought by the students!
However in the same poll, nearly 70% of students believed that their vote makes a difference. Now this is where the limitations of the average homo economicus’s rationality start to show up. Economists Casey Mulligan and Charles Hunter have demonstrated through analysing over 56000 elections, that only one of every 89,000 votes cast in the US Congressional elections, and one of 15,000 in state legislator elections, truly mattered in that the election was decided by one vote. So really that one vote does not matter.
So why vote? Because if enough ‘one vote makes a difference’ people cast their vote, their collective vote can make a difference. At a time when the incumbent BJP government in India was confident of returning to power, they were ousted by the Congress Party. The Congress Party promised to help the poor of India, who were not benefiting from India’s technology boom. Some believe that if the black people in Florida were not overwhelmingly disenfranchised, Al Gore and not George W. Bush might have won the Presidential elections. Conversely one could argue that it was voter apathy in the UK that brought back into a third term the New Labour that we all are now regretting, not that we have any credible or distinguishable options!
Does this mean that economics has its limits when it comes to explaining why a functioning democracy keeps functioning? It depends. To vote is a different decision from how to vote. If for whatever reason, a citizen chooses to vote, he or she will probably seek to minimise the cost of acquiring adequate information to make an informed choice. In an earlier post, I had argued that if such information is not accessible and comprehensible, voting is a fool’s endeavour.
Why this post then? Simply because I am curious.
Limited statistical analysis of my blog traffic shows that a large % of my readers are drawn from two large democracies - India and the United States. There are some readers in the UK too. Even if you read from another place, do contribute your views.
What price is your vote? Does it have a price? Do you vote, no matter what? Do you never vote or rarely vote and if so, why?
