Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Theory 21 - the Mid-life crisis
According to wikipaedia, "Midlife crisis is a term coined in 1965 by Elliott Jaques and used in Western societies to describe a period of dramatic self-doubt that is felt by some individuals in the "middle years" or middle age of life, as a result of sensing the passing of their own youth and the imminence of their old age [...] The result may be a desire to make significant changes in core aspects of day-to-day life or situation, such as in career, work-life balance, marriage, romantic relationships, big-ticket expenditures, or physical appearance." The article goes on to suggest that it is less common than it may seem, and that it may be typically western, as there is "little evidence that it occur in Japanese or Indian cultures."
The article also records the existing question marks as to whether there really is such a thing as a mid-life crisis, because many of the possible causes listed occur throughout life, not just in the timespan between 40 and 60, and because many (even most) people seem to get by without crisis. To me, that is like saying that mad cow disease does not exist, because most cows do not get it.
I think it does exist, and I have a theory about it. I call it theory 21 in honour of Douglas Adams, whose answer to the big question about "Life, the Universe and Everything" is 42. The mid-life crisis only covers half of that, hence theory 21. My theory is that mid-life is the time when people reach a "boiling point" regarding their hopes and expectations. Whether this is traumatic or not depends, among other things, on how realistic your expectations are/have been and how easily you accept that things will not always go your way. And I think this is where we are going wrong, in western society: many of us have been brought up to believe that it is perfectly reasonable to expect not only that you will get the things you want (enough money, a good job, a nice family, etc), but also that you will be able to avoid the things you don't want (illness, a lousy job, poverty, loneliness etc).
But contrary to what you might think, many of us are perfectly capable of accepting adversity in the big things mentioned above. Often, it is the constant drip-drip-drip of small irritations (traffic jams, husbands who don't put up the toilet seat when they urinate, condescending waiters in fancy restaurants, etc. etc) that we have difficulty with. And the reason for this is exactly because they are so small that we believe we should be able to do something about them, even though often, we can't. Often, the only thing we can do is try to change our own reaction to them, because they are not going to go away.
Imagine a whole series of little buttons (the number is different for each of us), one for each irritation, each one with a different sound and a different volume (depending on your own sensitity to this specific irritation). Every time we come up against something unpleasant, the corresponding button is pushed. In some cases, the sound is outside our hearing range, so we are not bothered in the least. In other cases, the sound may be irritating at first, but you get used to it with time, and learn to ignore it (the same way people who work in a slaughterhouse stop noticing the smell). In other cases, you do not get used to it, and it becomes increasingly irritating with time. Still, you may still "accept" it, like old couples that are in each other's hair constantly, but wouldn't dream of splitting up. And then there are the ones that drive you completely bonkers every single time.
Mid-life crisis is when you start to see that life is too short to disconnect all the buttons.
The article also records the existing question marks as to whether there really is such a thing as a mid-life crisis, because many of the possible causes listed occur throughout life, not just in the timespan between 40 and 60, and because many (even most) people seem to get by without crisis. To me, that is like saying that mad cow disease does not exist, because most cows do not get it.
I think it does exist, and I have a theory about it. I call it theory 21 in honour of Douglas Adams, whose answer to the big question about "Life, the Universe and Everything" is 42. The mid-life crisis only covers half of that, hence theory 21. My theory is that mid-life is the time when people reach a "boiling point" regarding their hopes and expectations. Whether this is traumatic or not depends, among other things, on how realistic your expectations are/have been and how easily you accept that things will not always go your way. And I think this is where we are going wrong, in western society: many of us have been brought up to believe that it is perfectly reasonable to expect not only that you will get the things you want (enough money, a good job, a nice family, etc), but also that you will be able to avoid the things you don't want (illness, a lousy job, poverty, loneliness etc).
But contrary to what you might think, many of us are perfectly capable of accepting adversity in the big things mentioned above. Often, it is the constant drip-drip-drip of small irritations (traffic jams, husbands who don't put up the toilet seat when they urinate, condescending waiters in fancy restaurants, etc. etc) that we have difficulty with. And the reason for this is exactly because they are so small that we believe we should be able to do something about them, even though often, we can't. Often, the only thing we can do is try to change our own reaction to them, because they are not going to go away.
Imagine a whole series of little buttons (the number is different for each of us), one for each irritation, each one with a different sound and a different volume (depending on your own sensitity to this specific irritation). Every time we come up against something unpleasant, the corresponding button is pushed. In some cases, the sound is outside our hearing range, so we are not bothered in the least. In other cases, the sound may be irritating at first, but you get used to it with time, and learn to ignore it (the same way people who work in a slaughterhouse stop noticing the smell). In other cases, you do not get used to it, and it becomes increasingly irritating with time. Still, you may still "accept" it, like old couples that are in each other's hair constantly, but wouldn't dream of splitting up. And then there are the ones that drive you completely bonkers every single time.
Mid-life crisis is when you start to see that life is too short to disconnect all the buttons.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
A thought on thinking
In 1984 (the book, not the year), George Orwell gave us the idea of "doublethink", which I will define here as maintaining two different (and often opposing) beliefs at the same time. When I first read 1984, back in the seventies, I thought it was completely novel. Now, many years later, I am not so sure, because we do something similar all the time, in some cases voluntarily.
The lightest possible variant of this is maintaining several different viewpoints or perspectives of the same subject at the same time, such as when we try to see the forest and the trees at the same time, or when we define energy as waves and particles at the same time, or when we see a number (1984) and think of it as a date and a book simultaneously. And this can even be useful, even if it may be somewhat of a brainstrain. Somewhere in the same general area, I suspect, is when children try to "believe" in Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, etc. in spite of very clear evidence to the contrary.
Next, in terms of mindstress, come things like trying to consider the possible impact of a specific individual action on both the group and the individual at the same time. This combination is a bit more difficult to grasp than the previous ones, because (unlike the previous examples) the individual and the group interact. A similar idea is that of the "light touch" which is achieving almost total control with only very little pressure.
Not dizzy yet? Then try this one on for size: last in the list is the "does not compute - robot brain overload" category is when you try to accept both a literal reading of Genesis and modern science, including evolution. And this is where you might get the sort of mental burn-out that Big Brother uses to exert total mind control.
But there is of course one big difference, namely the fact that in 1984, conflicting beliefs are imposed on the citizens, and cemented in place by the worst possible negative reinforcement possible. Which makes me very happy to be where I am today, with the freedom to think what I want, and even think out loud once in a while, such as in this blog.
The lightest possible variant of this is maintaining several different viewpoints or perspectives of the same subject at the same time, such as when we try to see the forest and the trees at the same time, or when we define energy as waves and particles at the same time, or when we see a number (1984) and think of it as a date and a book simultaneously. And this can even be useful, even if it may be somewhat of a brainstrain. Somewhere in the same general area, I suspect, is when children try to "believe" in Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, etc. in spite of very clear evidence to the contrary.
Next, in terms of mindstress, come things like trying to consider the possible impact of a specific individual action on both the group and the individual at the same time. This combination is a bit more difficult to grasp than the previous ones, because (unlike the previous examples) the individual and the group interact. A similar idea is that of the "light touch" which is achieving almost total control with only very little pressure.
Not dizzy yet? Then try this one on for size: last in the list is the "does not compute - robot brain overload" category is when you try to accept both a literal reading of Genesis and modern science, including evolution. And this is where you might get the sort of mental burn-out that Big Brother uses to exert total mind control.
But there is of course one big difference, namely the fact that in 1984, conflicting beliefs are imposed on the citizens, and cemented in place by the worst possible negative reinforcement possible. Which makes me very happy to be where I am today, with the freedom to think what I want, and even think out loud once in a while, such as in this blog.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Assumptions and expectations
Yesterday's entry set me thinking ...
If (incorrect) assumptions are “the mother of all fuck-ups”, hidden assumptions are the mother of all misunderstandings. And if you combine the two, you get a sour cocktail of mistakes and misunderstandings. Add unrealistic and/or hidden expectations and stir, and let this sour-bitter mix ferment for a few years, to let the anger evaporate. Serve lukewarm to get depression, cynicism, and a host of other problems.
NB: the hidden assumptions and expectations include not only the ones you hide from others, but also the ones you hide from yourself. Assumptions can be a bit like traffic rules in that most people find it much easier to identify the incorrect assumptions (or traffic violations) of others, than their own. And if you compare the top and middle rows, you see how important it is to make assumptions and expectations explicit: it is often easier to overcome mistakes and disappointment than correct misunderstandings and handle frustration.
To those who don’t like bitter-sour cocktails, the solution seems obvious: first, you have to make all your assumptions and expectations explicit, then you have to make sure they are as correct and realistic as possible. But as with almost everything, this is much easier said than done.
One assumption I often make, for example, is that certain people share my values (and especially honesty), and I am often unpleasantly surprised to find that they do not. You would think, after so many years on this planet, I would have learned my lesson, but my default attitude is still mostly the same: I presume honesty even if there is clear evidence to the contrary. And I think this is because this default attitude of mine is less “nurture” (something you learn) than “nature” (part of my personality).
If this is true of humans in general, it would mean solving the above problems could take half a lifetime. To which I can only say, given the advantages, have you got anything better to do with your time? :-)
If (incorrect) assumptions are “the mother of all fuck-ups”, hidden assumptions are the mother of all misunderstandings. And if you combine the two, you get a sour cocktail of mistakes and misunderstandings. Add unrealistic and/or hidden expectations and stir, and let this sour-bitter mix ferment for a few years, to let the anger evaporate. Serve lukewarm to get depression, cynicism, and a host of other problems.
|
Assumptions |
Expectations |
Both together, short term |
Both, long term |
Incorrect or unrealistic |
Mistakes |
Disappointment |
Mistakes and |
Depression, cynicism, |
Hidden |
Misunderstandings |
Frustration |
Mistakes, misunderstandings, |
|
Incorrect and hidden |
Mistakes and |
Frustration and |
Mistakes, |
NB: the hidden assumptions and expectations include not only the ones you hide from others, but also the ones you hide from yourself. Assumptions can be a bit like traffic rules in that most people find it much easier to identify the incorrect assumptions (or traffic violations) of others, than their own. And if you compare the top and middle rows, you see how important it is to make assumptions and expectations explicit: it is often easier to overcome mistakes and disappointment than correct misunderstandings and handle frustration.
To those who don’t like bitter-sour cocktails, the solution seems obvious: first, you have to make all your assumptions and expectations explicit, then you have to make sure they are as correct and realistic as possible. But as with almost everything, this is much easier said than done.
One assumption I often make, for example, is that certain people share my values (and especially honesty), and I am often unpleasantly surprised to find that they do not. You would think, after so many years on this planet, I would have learned my lesson, but my default attitude is still mostly the same: I presume honesty even if there is clear evidence to the contrary. And I think this is because this default attitude of mine is less “nurture” (something you learn) than “nature” (part of my personality).
If this is true of humans in general, it would mean solving the above problems could take half a lifetime. To which I can only say, given the advantages, have you got anything better to do with your time? :-)
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
The chimera of control
Control is like El Dorado: the more you talk or think about it, the more realistic it seems to be. But - like the Spaniards in South America who found gold, but not enough – expectations outstrip reality. The amount of control you actually have over your life is usually not even close to what you hoped for, or dreamed of. All over the world (and probably more in the Western World than elsewhere) we overestimate our own ability to control the world around us.
It is possible that this overestimation (which could also be seen as overconfidence, pride, or even vanity) is due at least in part to the success we have had individually, and on a small scale, in controlling the physical world around us. We can plow the earth, move and break rocks, forge metal, make tools and pottery, build houses, make plants grow where we want them to. And when we pool our resources, we can build bridges and waterworks, move mountains and rivers, drain swamps, and redistribute the available energy to suit our needs. But we are finding that all those individual efforts have a huge collective impact that we do not yet know how to control. (In that sense, we are a bit like the stromatolites (colonial reef-building organisms), who, when life was just beginning, kick-started all further life on this planet by producing oxygen. Their impact was enormous, but they had no control over what was happening. In fact, they themselves went into steep decline, because the oxygen they produced – however useful for us - was actually poisonous to them. )
The problem, of course, is that although we are relatively good at controlling certain parts of the physical world, we are not much good at predicting the long-term results of our collective actions, and even worse at controlling complex systems involving other living organisms. A few examples.
- Some 70% or more of business projects fail, because of systemic problems that are almost impossible to control (see the theories of Demming for more on this).
- For years, hunting foxes was justified by claiming that it was necessary to keep the population of predators in certain areas low. In fact, it has now been shown that hunting has no noticeable impact on the total number of foxes, because the survivors simply have larger litters.
- Ever since the invention of antibiotics, people hoped that it would be possible to completely eradicate certain (or maybe even all) infectious diseases. So far … (need I spell it out?).
- President Obama, possibly the most powerful president of any democratic country, had perfectly reasonable plans for the future of his country, but is finding it almost impossible to turn them into reality.
- The Unites States foreign policy of the past 40-50 years seems based on the belief that it is possible to exact real change in other countries by the use of force, in spite of a long list of examples to the contrary.
- The Western World is only slowly beginning to realize that a lot of “well-intentioned aid” to the third world is not having the effect they hoped (I put well-intentioned in brackets, because often, the cost of “progress” – in terms of loss of cultural values etc. - may be more than the beneficiaries want to pay).
- Governments have been trying to control the economy ever since money was invented, but recent events have made it very clear how elusive and fickle economies are. (Which is not to say that I advocate a totally "free" marketplace - that is probably worse).
Friday, May 6, 2011
Post 101
According to blogger.com, this is my 101st post. Not that it means all that much (I have never really understood people´s fascination with numbers), but we all need moments to stop, reflect, evaluate. There´s a nice line in one of the Indigo Girls´songs: "every five years I look back on my life and have a good laugh". Well, looking back on some of the 100 posts (which, I just found out, includes the 20 or so drafts still awaiting further attention) makes me conclude that I should do probably do some quality/damage control.
In fact, I have already started, by largely rewriting an entry before forwarding the link to someone. I did so because it would be obvious that I wrote it, and I wanted to present my best side. When I started this blog, however, I assumed it would be completely anonymous, and I wrote the entries from that point of view. But then I got a bit disappointed with the size of my audience, so I allowed the entries to be automatically pushed onto Facebook. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and it was very easy, but now, of course, I have the same problem that the late George Carlin described young boys in his neighbourhood having during confession. They would confess to some sin, only to have the priest "why did you do that, then, George!?!".
Of course, my "confessions" are quite abstract, but in some cases, it is actually possible for people who know me to guess who or what I am writing about. Take my entry "a tale of two showers", for example. Any of my friends who read it at the time would realise whose fault it was that I was unable to use "my" shower. One of my readers even compared it to reading someone´s diary. So I have decided to go back and protect innocent and guilty parties alike (and especially myself). Transparency is all very good for public institutions, but private life should be just that. Private.
Don´t you think?
In fact, I have already started, by largely rewriting an entry before forwarding the link to someone. I did so because it would be obvious that I wrote it, and I wanted to present my best side. When I started this blog, however, I assumed it would be completely anonymous, and I wrote the entries from that point of view. But then I got a bit disappointed with the size of my audience, so I allowed the entries to be automatically pushed onto Facebook. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and it was very easy, but now, of course, I have the same problem that the late George Carlin described young boys in his neighbourhood having during confession. They would confess to some sin, only to have the priest "why did you do that, then, George!?!".
Of course, my "confessions" are quite abstract, but in some cases, it is actually possible for people who know me to guess who or what I am writing about. Take my entry "a tale of two showers", for example. Any of my friends who read it at the time would realise whose fault it was that I was unable to use "my" shower. One of my readers even compared it to reading someone´s diary. So I have decided to go back and protect innocent and guilty parties alike (and especially myself). Transparency is all very good for public institutions, but private life should be just that. Private.
Don´t you think?
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Classifying fear
The other day I was talking with some colleagues about holiday plans, and how there is never enough time to do everything you want, and how some people try to solve this by planning everything down to the minute. Everybody at the table (myself included) groaned and laughed about this, because we all agree that over-planning takes the fun out of a holiday, but it set me thinking about the relationship between control and fun, and about the link between each of them and fear. Too much fear, and you may end up with an obsessive need for control; too little, and you can get recklessness, as if none of your actions have any consequences, and everything is just a game.
The trick, of course, is to find just the right balance between both extremes. On the whole, young people seem to be more on the reckless end of the scale, and the exasperated advice to "please grow up" often refers to their lack of responsibility. But the vast majority will “grow up” without any help or admonishments from others; for the most part, it happens all by itself. Going in the other direction (lightening up, when it feels like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders) seems harder, or at least it does to me. For many people, the fear curve is like the tension curve of most story plots: almost flat at the beginning, then steadily climbing towards a climax. For some people, this is where it all ends: like straws breaking the camel’s back, the fears (or more accurately, the negative effects thereof) accumulate until something gives. Anti-climaxes, when they happen, are often very recognizable: suddenly, many previous worries seem to disappear. People who experience this phase may cross the street without looking both ways first, or put on whatever they feel like, or speak their mind and are not worried about the consequences, or all three and more.
...
In his book "Class", Paul Fussell (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Fussell) claims that fear is mostly a problem of the middle classes, and that the people at the bottom and the top of the class scale are much less afflicted. Given the fact that working conditions for the lower classes were traditionally much more dangerous (think of mines collapsing, construction site accidents, dangerous chemicals in the factory, etc.) than for the middle classes - a correlation so consistent that Fussell even uses it as a quick-and-dirty way to distinguish between the two -, you would expect more fear in the lower classes, but I didn't make that connection until, in the course of reading up on something completely different, I was led - by the usual stream-of-consciousness type experience that I often have on the Internet - to a text of Freud's in which he discusses fear, fright and anxiety. Based on his text, I have come up with my own quick and ready way to distinguish between them, namely that fright is generally caused by a specific occurrence, that fear is linked to specific objects, and that anxiety is more of a general state, not specifically linked to either. And that in turn makes it easy - my usual de Bono lateral jump - to come up with the following rough and overly simplistic classification of fear: ordinary fear is for the lower class, anxiety is for the middle class, and fright is for the upper classes.
The trick, of course, is to find just the right balance between both extremes. On the whole, young people seem to be more on the reckless end of the scale, and the exasperated advice to "please grow up" often refers to their lack of responsibility. But the vast majority will “grow up” without any help or admonishments from others; for the most part, it happens all by itself. Going in the other direction (lightening up, when it feels like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders) seems harder, or at least it does to me. For many people, the fear curve is like the tension curve of most story plots: almost flat at the beginning, then steadily climbing towards a climax. For some people, this is where it all ends: like straws breaking the camel’s back, the fears (or more accurately, the negative effects thereof) accumulate until something gives. Anti-climaxes, when they happen, are often very recognizable: suddenly, many previous worries seem to disappear. People who experience this phase may cross the street without looking both ways first, or put on whatever they feel like, or speak their mind and are not worried about the consequences, or all three and more.
...
In his book "Class", Paul Fussell (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Fussell) claims that fear is mostly a problem of the middle classes, and that the people at the bottom and the top of the class scale are much less afflicted. Given the fact that working conditions for the lower classes were traditionally much more dangerous (think of mines collapsing, construction site accidents, dangerous chemicals in the factory, etc.) than for the middle classes - a correlation so consistent that Fussell even uses it as a quick-and-dirty way to distinguish between the two -, you would expect more fear in the lower classes, but I didn't make that connection until, in the course of reading up on something completely different, I was led - by the usual stream-of-consciousness type experience that I often have on the Internet - to a text of Freud's in which he discusses fear, fright and anxiety. Based on his text, I have come up with my own quick and ready way to distinguish between them, namely that fright is generally caused by a specific occurrence, that fear is linked to specific objects, and that anxiety is more of a general state, not specifically linked to either. And that in turn makes it easy - my usual de Bono lateral jump - to come up with the following rough and overly simplistic classification of fear: ordinary fear is for the lower class, anxiety is for the middle class, and fright is for the upper classes.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Keeping an open mind
Every once in a while, I will surf the Internet for articles on self-improvement (in my case, there is a lot of room for that), and I almost always find a lot of good, free advice. Some very good advice, curiously, came from a book called "The Science of getting Rich" (http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Science_of_Getting_Rich) written in 1910 by someone with the unlikely name of Wallace D. Wattles.
My new-found friend Wally writes about having goals, keeping constant faith that you will achieve them (or something similar enough), being grateful for what you have, and - as Deepak Chopra might say - letting the universe take care of things. He (Wally) even argues that you should not try to get rich at other's expense, and should always try (in today's parlance) to make every situation win-win.
Having had some scientific training myself, I cannot help but note that - notwithstanding the title of the book - there is nothing even remotely scientific about his theory. He simply makes a number of claims, and asks us to take them on faith, without providing any kind of proof or even any arguments. If anything, that is in fact much closer to what you would expect from a religious sect. But that does not mean his ideas lack merit: I find them all very interesting, and certainly worth exploring.
Which reminds me of an argument I had recently with a friend, who rejected homeopathy in its totality simply because the theory did not seem to make any sense. To me, theory and fact are totally separate. Just because you cannot find a plausible explanation (scientific or otherwise) for something does not mean it is not true, or does not exist. Personally, I have serious doubts about the theory that the position of the stars at our birth determine who we will be or become, but I am quite happy that people continue to explore patterns or clusters of human characteristics.
What I am most interested in, in fact, is in keeping an open mind. I hope one day I will find convincing arguments for doing so, but in the meantime I would ask you - like my friend Wally does with his claim that one should not get rich at another's expense - to accept on faith the idea that suppressing ideas (however ludicrous they may sound) is not the best way to arrive at the truth. Knowledge moves in mysterious ways.
My new-found friend Wally writes about having goals, keeping constant faith that you will achieve them (or something similar enough), being grateful for what you have, and - as Deepak Chopra might say - letting the universe take care of things. He (Wally) even argues that you should not try to get rich at other's expense, and should always try (in today's parlance) to make every situation win-win.
Having had some scientific training myself, I cannot help but note that - notwithstanding the title of the book - there is nothing even remotely scientific about his theory. He simply makes a number of claims, and asks us to take them on faith, without providing any kind of proof or even any arguments. If anything, that is in fact much closer to what you would expect from a religious sect. But that does not mean his ideas lack merit: I find them all very interesting, and certainly worth exploring.
Which reminds me of an argument I had recently with a friend, who rejected homeopathy in its totality simply because the theory did not seem to make any sense. To me, theory and fact are totally separate. Just because you cannot find a plausible explanation (scientific or otherwise) for something does not mean it is not true, or does not exist. Personally, I have serious doubts about the theory that the position of the stars at our birth determine who we will be or become, but I am quite happy that people continue to explore patterns or clusters of human characteristics.
What I am most interested in, in fact, is in keeping an open mind. I hope one day I will find convincing arguments for doing so, but in the meantime I would ask you - like my friend Wally does with his claim that one should not get rich at another's expense - to accept on faith the idea that suppressing ideas (however ludicrous they may sound) is not the best way to arrive at the truth. Knowledge moves in mysterious ways.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Books and their owners
Whenever I get a chance, I will check out people's bookcases, because the books people have can tell you an awful lot about them. Of course, I am very conscious of the fact that merely possessing a book is no guarantee that the owner has read it, or even if he or she has, that he or she has assimilated any of their contents. There are quite a few people out there who collect books as status symbols. These people are a bit like name-droppers, who will take any opportunity, however inopportune, to insert the name of some famous person/book into the conversation, in the hope that this will somehow make them look more important or intelligent than they are.
Those of you who know me personally will realize that I know of which I speak, because I do this myself. I will tell someone, for example, that I have Plato's Republic, and in doing so, I will have established my credentials as a serious-minded person, who sets a high standard. But before anyone can ask any questions I would not be able to answer, I will hasten to add that (1) it is the English Translation, not the original Greek version, and that (2) I haven't read it yet. And it gets worse, because this last remark gives me the perfect opportunity to list some of the other books that I have but have not read, or have not finished, like The Golden Bough, The Embarrassment of Riches, Herfstij der Middeleeuwen, the Tao of Physics, or a political history of the popes.
But I digress. What I really wanted to write about was a strange, out-of-body-like experience I had the other day, when I found myself inspecting a collection of books that could have been my own, but wasn't. Some of the books in this other collection were identical to books I own, but for the most part, this other person had different books but by the same authors. Had this phenomenon been restricted to literature, I would not have given it a second thought, but it spanned art, history, the natural sciences, science fiction and even travel books. It was really scary. I worry that one day I will wake up and find I am actually him, and not myself. And what is worse: if I am him, I will have a collection of several hundred books I should have read, but haven't!
Those of you who know me personally will realize that I know of which I speak, because I do this myself. I will tell someone, for example, that I have Plato's Republic, and in doing so, I will have established my credentials as a serious-minded person, who sets a high standard. But before anyone can ask any questions I would not be able to answer, I will hasten to add that (1) it is the English Translation, not the original Greek version, and that (2) I haven't read it yet. And it gets worse, because this last remark gives me the perfect opportunity to list some of the other books that I have but have not read, or have not finished, like The Golden Bough, The Embarrassment of Riches, Herfstij der Middeleeuwen, the Tao of Physics, or a political history of the popes.
But I digress. What I really wanted to write about was a strange, out-of-body-like experience I had the other day, when I found myself inspecting a collection of books that could have been my own, but wasn't. Some of the books in this other collection were identical to books I own, but for the most part, this other person had different books but by the same authors. Had this phenomenon been restricted to literature, I would not have given it a second thought, but it spanned art, history, the natural sciences, science fiction and even travel books. It was really scary. I worry that one day I will wake up and find I am actually him, and not myself. And what is worse: if I am him, I will have a collection of several hundred books I should have read, but haven't!
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
The mystery of the missing ballpoints
Life is strange and wonderful, and even inanimate objects move in mysterious ways. Take ballpoints, for example. Everyone knows that they have a habit of disappearing, and nobody, not even Douglas Adams, knows for sure where they go. No matter how many you buy (or "borrow"), they always disappear after a few days, and you are forced to go back to your ever-growing collection of rejects of all sizes and shapes, in the hope of finding one that works. In my case, the choice is simple: for the past year, I have relied on a pen of which the top is missing, so that it wobbles while I write. I hate it, but I am convinced that it is this very defect that prevents it from disappearing, so in a sense, I am also grateful.
Of course, the parallels with the animate world are not lost on me. Just like genes, which must disseminate to ensure the continued success of the species, ballpoints strive towards new frontiers, where they can lead long successful lives (or at very least find gainful employment). And equally obviously, I do realize that pens are not actively involved in a struggle for survival. But there definitely is selection going on, and the fittest are surviving, even though - unfortunately for me - it is elsewhere.
Which leads to the thought that maybe I should be a tougher taskmaster, and simply throw the wobbly pen away. But how can I? It has been my salvation for over a year now. A hate-love dilemma if I ever saw one.
Footnote (pun intended): you might be tempted to see parallels with socks as well, but that would be just plain silly, because socks never disappear in pairs. It is always only one, and I cannot for the life of me imagine any gainful employment for a single sock (other than possibly as a makeshift puppet for children).
Of course, the parallels with the animate world are not lost on me. Just like genes, which must disseminate to ensure the continued success of the species, ballpoints strive towards new frontiers, where they can lead long successful lives (or at very least find gainful employment). And equally obviously, I do realize that pens are not actively involved in a struggle for survival. But there definitely is selection going on, and the fittest are surviving, even though - unfortunately for me - it is elsewhere.
Which leads to the thought that maybe I should be a tougher taskmaster, and simply throw the wobbly pen away. But how can I? It has been my salvation for over a year now. A hate-love dilemma if I ever saw one.
Footnote (pun intended): you might be tempted to see parallels with socks as well, but that would be just plain silly, because socks never disappear in pairs. It is always only one, and I cannot for the life of me imagine any gainful employment for a single sock (other than possibly as a makeshift puppet for children).
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Laziness and the keyboard
In a bout of laziness, I just had a look at all the draft entries that I started writing but never published, in the hope of finding something I could simply shine up a bit to make it suitable. Unfortunately, none of them are good enough: each would need at lot more work to make them readable. Mostly because they are too ambitious - when optimistic, I attack big items like the search for knowledge or whether there is such a things as objective reality - and also because I believe you should only publish stuff that someone might like to read.
Of course, this entry is not all that interesting either. But I have noticed that some of my most popular entries (in terms of numbers of visits) are about blogging, so I am quite curious to see how this entry will fare, in comparison to others.
I will keep you posted!
....
As promised (to keep you posted): this has indeed become one of the more popular entries. I think it is safe to say, however, that it is one of my least interesting entries ever. I guess people arrive here while searching for more ergonomic ways to use the computer.
As I spend many hours a day using a keyboard, I can understand that this is real issue, so here is my advice in a nutshell:
....
As promised (to keep you posted): this has indeed become one of the more popular entries. I think it is safe to say, however, that it is one of my least interesting entries ever. I guess people arrive here while searching for more ergonomic ways to use the computer.
As I spend many hours a day using a keyboard, I can understand that this is real issue, so here is my advice in a nutshell:
- make sure your posture is correct, which means a chair and table that you can adjust to your height
- find the most comfortable position for the keyboard and/or find an ergonomic one
- make a list of frequent actions that are uncomfortable or laborious (often involving the mouse)
- check to see if no keyboard shortcuts exist for these actions already. (You would be surprised at the number of people who use the mouse to click on certain default options that appear in interactive menus (like "do you want to save this file Yes/No"), when all you need do is hit the Return or Enter key).
- if no keyboard shortcuts exist, there are ways to create your own, but this is too much to explain in a simple overview. In any case, many programs (and certainly internet browsers) allow toolbar customisation that can help speed up things. Put links that you use everyday on your desktop, or in your links toolbar (but not at the bottom of a long long list of Favourites, or in a folder that is in another folder in another folder etc.)
Monday, January 31, 2011
In and out of control
The other day, while watching an episode of "Monk" (an obsessive-compulsive detective), I started thinking about how important control is to us all. Monk (and presumably, many obsessive compulsive people) tries to compensate for the gap between what he would like to control (just about everything) and what he actually controls (very little) by imposing control where-ever possible, in the form of useless but comforting routines (touching all the lampposts along his way, etc. ). Obviously, he is very aware of the gap, and he does not really accept the fact that very little can be done about it.
The three most important elements in the above description are the size of the gap (which depends more on our own expectations and assumptions than anything else), our awareness of it (some people hardly seem to think about it, while for others, it is crucial), and our acceptance of it.
As far as the real (as opposed to the perceived) size of the gap is concerned, we can only control a very little bit: we grow up to learn a certain degree muscle control, and we try to control our own emotions and our own thoughts, but most of us are only partially successful at that. Of the outside world, we can perhaps control small physical objects, and we can exert an influence over the thoughts and feelings of others in our direct environment (friends, family members, colleagues), but very few of us are in a position to influence (much less control) larger groups of people, except perhaps in certain situations (and then usually for only a short period of time). Example: you can make huge numbers of people think of a lemon just by appearing on the t.v. for a few seconds, and telling them not to think of a lemon. Personally, I would never throw good money away on something like this, but who knows, maybe this is some control freak's idea of a fun thing to do.
Knowing what is realistic is a big step towards accepting the gap. Notwithstanding - or perhaps thanks to - many infantile attempts to fly (including some of my own, which mercifully ended without major accident), most adults find it relatively easy to accept that humans cannot fly on their own, without help from a machine or contraption. In fact, a large part of growing up consists of exactly that: learning about your own limitations and in some cases finding ways to get around them.
And they say t.v. teaches us nothing!
Now if only it would teach me to accept my own limitations ...
The three most important elements in the above description are the size of the gap (which depends more on our own expectations and assumptions than anything else), our awareness of it (some people hardly seem to think about it, while for others, it is crucial), and our acceptance of it.
As far as the real (as opposed to the perceived) size of the gap is concerned, we can only control a very little bit: we grow up to learn a certain degree muscle control, and we try to control our own emotions and our own thoughts, but most of us are only partially successful at that. Of the outside world, we can perhaps control small physical objects, and we can exert an influence over the thoughts and feelings of others in our direct environment (friends, family members, colleagues), but very few of us are in a position to influence (much less control) larger groups of people, except perhaps in certain situations (and then usually for only a short period of time). Example: you can make huge numbers of people think of a lemon just by appearing on the t.v. for a few seconds, and telling them not to think of a lemon. Personally, I would never throw good money away on something like this, but who knows, maybe this is some control freak's idea of a fun thing to do.
Knowing what is realistic is a big step towards accepting the gap. Notwithstanding - or perhaps thanks to - many infantile attempts to fly (including some of my own, which mercifully ended without major accident), most adults find it relatively easy to accept that humans cannot fly on their own, without help from a machine or contraption. In fact, a large part of growing up consists of exactly that: learning about your own limitations and in some cases finding ways to get around them.
And they say t.v. teaches us nothing!
Now if only it would teach me to accept my own limitations ...
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Oh, for laughing out loud!
There are a lot of popular ideas that some people might say are truisms, but I just don’t get. (Of course, you could be excused for thinking that this is somehow my fault, that I am just more simple-minded than most people, but that is besides the point. ..)
One such idee fixe is that laughter is a defense mechanism. I grew up hearing this. With some things, it you hear them often enough, you start believing them. But with this one, I had my doubts, even from very early on (when I was nine or ten). I suppose I may have been influenced by the fact that I already knew that a smile makes a lousy umbrella. In any case, I got a bit obsessed with the whole idea, so I was very happy to discover that my brother had a character flaw which made it possible to put the theory to the test. What he would do, on a relatively regular basis, was insult or otherwise bother some bigger kid, wait until he was mad enough to threaten with bodily harm, then start laughing. This allowed me to gather proof – from a safe distance - that nine times out of ten, laughter offers absolutely no protection against fists.
Another is the idea that laughter is the best medicine. To me, it is more like a sickness. Not only is it contagious (something that sit-com producers abuse shameless by sticking a laugh-track under just about anything), it can be really dangerous. If laughter really were a medicine, the list of counterindications would read something like “do not use in case of cracked lips, broken ribs, ruptured spleen or appendix, collapsed lung “ … the list is almost endless! And it can even be dangerous is a different way, namely when you laugh at inappropriate moments, like I demonstrated above. Some more examples of moments when it might be risky to laugh: while receiving a serious reprimand from your boss, at the most tragic or romantic point in a movie (don’t laugh, I was once attacked by a bag-wielding old lady for committing this heinous offense), or when getting an accidental (and completely unwelcome) peek at your ex-wife’s new boyfriend’s private parts … personally, I also think it is inappropriate to laugh at accidents, but I know there is a whole branch of media industry that now depends on that sort of psuedo-comedy, so I guess very few people will agree with me on that.
Of course, we now know that laughter releases all kinds of feel—good chemicals like endorphins. So I’m thinking, why run all those risks, and do all that hard work (laughter actually requiries a lot of coordination, and involves a lot of different muscle groups) when you could just inject yourself with these chemicals. Or better yet, take them as pills. I suppose the most important risk there is addiction, but that doesn’t scare me much.
Which brings me to what I find most interesting about the above-mentioned idees fixes, namely that they both link laughter to fear, in a few short steps: defense – danger – fear, and medicine – sickness – fear. Which is of course one really important aspect of laughter: how it (like whistling when it’s dark) helps us conquer fear. And conquering fear is all about emotional control.
I am not too good at this, but once in a while I do succeed in getting though otherwise potentially very distressing situations by imagining how I (or others) will laugh about it afterwards. This is so useful that I have made a resolve to develop this skill.
More about this in a future post ...
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