You’ve got to love the editors at The Economist. Merry Christmas!
No one can know for certain what future investment returns will be. If the writers at The Economist were sure of the answer, they would be lounging about on their luxury yachts instead of sweating over split infinitives.
For several years I have followed the Long Now Foundation‘s effort to built an artifact that would be in operation for the next 10,000 years, regardless of human intervention. I had a chance to hear an update last Friday, live from one of its founders, Stewart Brand, speaking at a rather intimate event organized in Milan by Matteo Penzo and Leandro Agrò and called a a Frontiers “Concert”.
Stewart spoke briefly and thoughtfully. I enjoyed hearing him talk about discussions with his friends Danny (Hillis), Brian (Eno), and others participating in the Foundation’s plan. My (only slightly edited) notes from his talk:
- Most of the ways we had to think about the long term (religion, for one) are struggling to catch up with the speeding up of everything.
- We are in the middle of the long now – assume for the long now a span of 20,000 years. We don’t know how to think of ourselves as a civilization. We do know how to think as communities, nations, and so on. But, as a civilization, we don’t have plans for the next 10,000 years.
- “The Long Now” came from Brian Eno. Danny Hillis noticed in 1992-93 that “year 2000″ had been the future for years, and as such it had been getting shorter and shorter. Danny came up with the idea of the Long Now Clock.
- Today’s media are ephemeral – you can hardly read something saved on a disk 10 years ago. With the Rosetta project, we decided to collect all the world’s languages on a disk that would be readable with a technology no more sophisticated than an 18th-century optical microscope. Nobody had tried to collect all the languages in the world. We concentrated 30,000 pages in 4,000 languages in an accessible form on a disk. (Note: the Rosetta Disk page talks about 13,000 pages in 1,500 languages). Of course Wikipedia is our Rosetta disk right now, but it goes down if the Internet goes down. We made a physical, permanent Rosetta disk.
- For the Clock, there is a working prototype in the Science Museum in London. But it’s a dollhouse model. The real one will be underneath a mountain somewhere. Ideal mountains are out in the desert. Nevada. West Texas near Mexico. Last week we did the first blast of a tunnel in Texas.
- Brian has designed a chime system. 10-bell set of chimes. Every day the clock will play a different combination. The pendulum is a new design, but nothing that couldn’t have been designed a couple of centuries ago, and it is driven by thermal change.
- The clock won’t display the time all the time, because the energy required for displaying the time is greater than the energy needed for computing the time. Rather, it will tell you the time it was when the last person visited. You’ll turn a handle to impart some energy to the clock and find out what time it is now. The clock will handle neglect, but it will reward love.
- It’s a long way to visit the clock. Look out over the desert, the view has been there for a long time. Bristlecone pines in Nevada have lived 5,000 years.
- The clock will be like a telescope through time. The world’s slowest computer. It serves no useful purpose, unless you think that taking a long view is the responsible thing to do for us as a civilization, ore even merely intellectually engaging, or pleasant.
came into town from Turin, where he spends quite a lot of his time these days, to speak after and in homage to Steward Brand, “a gurus’ guru”: “to meet a guru whose disciples are gurus (e.g., Kevin Kelly
, the author of What Technology Wants
, is a disciple of Stewart’s) is rare.” Here are my notes from Bruce’s talk.
- Stewart has hundreds of ideas. The Long Now Clock seems whimsical, but the Foundation has been working for 25 years now. I kept thinking they would get bored. Brian bores easily. Danny bores easily. Stewart is a polymath. But they won’t stop. They will find successors. They will build it.
- Twelve years ago, I was at an event with the Long Now Cabal and told them that, when the Long Now Clock was built, someone would build a bigger one. Who would want to build a bigger one? (1) the Mormon Church. If you know about the Mormons, you also know that they have the world’s vastest trove of genealogical records buried in the desert; (2) Scientology. Scientologists have a ludicrous theology, one that would look silly in a B-movie; they are wealthy but narrow-minded people. (3) The Piedmontese. People in Piedmont like digging tunnels through rocks and are good at it. There’s even a cult that dug a private temple underground in the 1970s, the size of the Duomo.
- Stewart recently wrote a book about saving our civilization from decline. Genetic modification is necessary. So is nuclear power. I’m willing to argue against it, but it’s worth reading Stewart’s ideas. We’re not in the 1960s or 1980s anymore. There were few moral ways in the 1960s that you could support nuclear. In the 1980s, people in Europe realized they were pawns in the end of the Cold War, Europe was gaining nothing. We have an echo now that affects our attitude towards nuclear power. But let me make at least a weak argument in favor of nuclear: coal is more dangerous than Chernobyl, in a drawn-out way. It is obvious that European weather is destabilizing. Nuclear is the mildest form of geoengineering. Climatologists have given up on public policy and are working on geoengineering. Some schemes are insane and dangerous. Desperate people will do desperate things, and nuclear power is just about the least scary technical intervention. The second least is genocide: kill about 50 per cent of people – genocide is really cheap and Europeans know very well how to do it – and you’ve solved the climate change problem, at least for a while. Compared to that, nuclear power is actually quite appealing. It takes 20 years to build nuclear plants; uranium reserves will last about 60 years, then there will be some thorium, so that’s not a permanent solution either. When the uranium and thorium have run out, we’ll be back to where we are now.
- If I were Italian, would I trade dependance on oil for dependance on uranium? I’d probably want to go into cellulosic ethanol. Nobody knows how to make it cheaply. You need to have genetically modified bacteria. If you can figure out how to do it, you’d be a nice regional power, like Brazil.
- These are not happy times. We don’ t have good political news in Texas and California, no answers to offer the rest of the world. It’s in the hands of Brazilians, Indians, Chinese.
- I hope Italians will not fold their hands. You ought to behave as a wiser society.
We do, indeed, live in a very short now. Every day, yesterday’s political debate is flooded out by today’s scandal. And politicians’ mental horizon – as climate change economist Valentina Bosetti pointed out yesterday in her talk at TEDx Lake Como – is at most the next few years, until they stand for reelection. Who can take the long view and think about the next decades and centuries? It’s up to us: as members of this civilization, as parents and grandparents, as consumers, as citizens. So we ought to listen to folks like Stewart Brand and his disciples. Thanks to Frontiers of Interaction for bringing him to Milan.
And, most important of all:
I propose an award for the Swiss marketing genius who choose, as the Migros own-label toothpaste brand, the name of a fungus that causes irritating genital infections.
General Colin Powell issued yesterday his endorsement of candidate Obama in the upcoming US presidential election. Which is interesting, but not the zenith of credibility or even good judgment: you may remember seeing Powell wheeled out by Bush, Cheney and Rice to testify before Congress that Saddam Hussein’s regime posed some sort of danger to the United States – he looked like a man whose arm was being painfully twisted behind his back so that he would toe the party line on the necessity and desirability of another invasion.
And this time, while he certainly looked more like he’s speaking his mind, his choice of words was odd. Very odd. Consider the following reports:
- Powell praised Obama’s “steadiness,” his “depth of intellectual curiosity” and his “intellectual vigor.”
- He praised Obama’s “calm, patient, intellectual, steady approach to problem solving.“
Oh man. That’s three too many utterings of “intellectual”. The Republicans are going to have a field day.
Of course, factually Powell is right. One doesn’t get through Harvard Law School without a decently evolved cerebral cortex, and as an intellectual Obama probably towers among his generation of politicians, even if that’s not saying much (it doesn’t take much to look and sound like Karl Popper, in comparison with Sarah Palin). But voters rarely vote with their cerebral cortex: they vote with their reptile brain.
Berlusconi was voted into power, repeatedly (quod erat demonstrandum). Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner was voted into power.
Gordon Brown, who has refrained from calling an election, was terribly unpopular (in contrast with the congenial Tony Blair) and only regained ground in the polls in the last few weeks, when it became evident that some intellect would actually be of use in rolling out a rescue plan for the financial system.
So, future endorsers of Candidate Obama: please endorse him all you want, but don’t highlight any of his intellectual vigor or intellectual problem-solving approach. Congress has passed the rescue package, and most Americans want to get on with their lives. Please carefully consider your choice of words when endorsing your candidate: you don’t want to put the final nails in the coffin of a potentially transformative U.S. presidency.
Bulshytt: Speech (typically but not necessarily commercial or political) that employs euphemism, convenient vagueness, numbing repetition, and other such rhetorical subterfuges to create the impression that something has been said.
- Neal Stephenson, Anathem, Glossary
When I started blogging, it was pretty clear to me that I’d have to have two blogs: one in Italian and one in English. Now that I’m taking Twitter for a test ride, that’s where I draw the line: I refuse to have two Twitter accounts, and I post my updates rather indiscrimately in whatever language I happen to have thought that particular though in. Still, I feel a bit guilty towards those of my readers who miss out on what I’m trying to say if it’s not in the language they speak.
If you use two or more languages, how have you solved the Twitter language dilemma?
I know that everybody who gives a damn has been reading the March issue of Wired magazine (much discussed for Chris Anderson’s preview of his forthcoming Free) about a month and a half ago, and I know that for someone who used to read it in the pre-Condé Nast days it is considered uncool to be still reading it, but what the heck, I still find it interesting and I still like to wait (forever) until my paper copy comes in the mail. Three articles on topics I found interesting, if you’d just like to skim through the highlights:
- “This Psychologist Might Outsmart the Math Brains Competing for the Netflix prize“, on how devilishly difficult it is to create a noticeably better recommendation algorithm – even for something that comes with a lot of descriptive variables and data points, like movies; but kudos to Netflix for opening up the data and trying the crowdsourcing route;
- “The Brash Boys at 37signals”, on the latest personality cult in the software industry and on David Heinemeier Hansson’s and Jason Fried’s endearing disdain for growth, venture capital, and other people;
- The somewhat overpromisingly titled “The Truth About Autism” (for one thing, we still don’t know where it comes from), a look at the achievements of autism activists Amanda Baggs (more about her here), Michelle Dawson and others, which highlight the uncommon cognitive strengths of at least some autistic people and may be close to sparking a new civil rights movement (a stretch? remember, until 1974 homosexuality was a mental illness for the psychiatric establishment).
A whole world dies with it.
As the spoken language died, so did the stories of tricky Creator-Raven and the magical loon, of giant animals and tiny homunculi with fish-spears no bigger than a matchstick. People forgot why “hat” was the same word as “hammer”, or why the word for a leaf, kultahl, was also the word for a feather, as though deciduous trees and birds shared one organic life. They lost the sense that lumped apples, beads and pills together as round, foreign, possibly deceiving things. They neglected the taboo that kept fish and animals separate, and would not let fish-skin and animal hide be sewn in the same coat; and they could not remember exactly why they built little wooden huts over gravestones, as if to give more comfortable shelter to the dead.
From The Economist‘s obituary of an 89-year-old Alaskan, Marie Smith, the last speaker of the Eyak language. Smith was the last name she took from her Oregonian husband. As for her first name, originally it had not been Marie, but Udachkuqax*a’a'ch, “a sound that calls people from afar”.
I love reading but I can’t seem to go on a healthy diet with a regular intake of books. I alternate starving (these last three weeks or so) and bingeing (last weekend, when I planted myself on a lawn chair and did little else). So, here’s mini-reviews of the latest titles I’ve fed myself.
- Jonathan Lethem, You Don’t Love Me Yet: Lethem gets out of his native Brooklyn (Fortress of Solitude, The Disappointment Artist) and goes to Los Angeles to tell us this whimsical story about a dysfunctional band, among art galleries, avant-garde parties and with a not insignificant part played by the LA Zoo. While the prevailing tone is farcical, Lethem’s ear for wordplay hides language gems on almost every page.
- Tim Powers, Three Days to Never: if you’re into time travel, alternate realities, and the Mossad’s most improbably cabalistic experiments, this book is for you. It took me a long time to read the first half, then I accelerated and finished it in one sitting. IMHO, the story would have held up well even without so much Charlie Chaplin and Albert Einstein.
- Steven Landsburg, More Sex Is Safer Sex: economics professor Steven Landsburg builds on the success of Dubner and Levitt’s Freakonomics and expands on some of his most successful Slate columns to produce an entertaining book (his parents, we’re told, hate the title, but I bet it’s selling better than “Incentives, Externalities and Cost-Benefit Analysis” would have. Oh, and “Applied Statistics” – see Gerd Gigerenzer’s Calculated Risks for more on the dramatic lack of numeracy in our society). A quick read written in an almost-too-accessible style, this is the perfect gift for your libertarian friends and offers several counterintuitive insights. The world is overcrowded? Take the state of Texas, carve it into 500-square-meter subdivisions, and build a home for 4 people on each lot – voilà, you’ve just housed the entire world population. I’ve always thought of other people’s children as imposing negative externalities, especially when they fly within half a dozen rows of my seat, but perhaps I should revisit my judgment. This point is also being driven home to me by…
- P.D. James, The Children of Men: this is a terrific dystopia about the end of our civilization due to a sudden and unexplained infertility of the entire human race. I’m only about halfway through it and I am in awe at P.D. James’s skills – perhaps I should start reading the Dalgliesh novels too? My paperback edition also had the added bonus of Clive Owen’s face on the cover; I haven’t seen the movie, but I am not very inclined to do so, as this book is the opposite of a Hollywood action blockbuster – introverted, meditative, almost philosophical. On a side note, I wonder why it is Canada and Britain that consistently produce the best in the apocalyptic genre, as in The Handmaid’s Tale and Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood and Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro (whose quiet, elegiac tone seems to me to owe something to P.D. James’s book). Americans, it seems, are too terminally optimistic to entertain such thoughts. Yet, when material like this comes from such capable hands as Baroness James’s, the results are – as American book jackets would say – un-put-downable.