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Archive for November, 2009

The surprising beginnings of things (part II)

Sunday, November 15th, 2009

The modern passport has its beginnings in World War I; it is an outcome of a heightened state of security that kind of stuck around:

The great watershed in the reestablishment of passport regimes among all the major countries of Europe and North America, however, was the First World War, under the declaration of “national emergency.” In the political and economic nationalistic environment that followed the war in 1918, passport controls became an institutionalized feature of international travel, with governments reasserting the right to control exit from and entry into national territories under their control.

Source here.

The surprising beginnings of things (part I)

Sunday, November 15th, 2009

(The series will explore concepts, events and objects which we now take for granted but whose beginnings very few people are familiar with).

China’s one-child policy was influenced, more than anyone, by a computer expert inspired by a flawed model of population that was widely criticized since its publication.

Walking in the fog

Sunday, November 15th, 2009

Last Saturday evening, my friend and I spent an hour walking in downtown Manhattan. We walked from Battery Park to Lower East Side. It was an incredible experience, enriched by the weather and the ambiance: it was foggy, almost drizzly; the temperature was pleasant given the time of the year. It was humid and quiet.

Walking made me feel exceptionally light. I love Downtown Manhattan–the art deco, almost neo-gothic architecture elevated me and excited me (unlike Midtown, with its shallow, sleek, nameless skyscrapers that make me feel aloof). The lack of a structure (no grid in Downtown Manhattan) meant that I’d almost stumble upon buildings, rather than expecting them from far away (imagine my awe as Manhattan Municipal Building suddenly grew out of the ground!). The fog added an element of Gotham-ness (but not in the pejorative sense). The scattered light added a pinch of mystery. The fact that I couldn’t see the top of the buildings seemed like there’s still something undiscovered left to New York City.

I don’t think people walk enough (or reflect enough, but walking can spurt reflection).

Ticket delivery fees

Sunday, November 15th, 2009

There are several sites that allow you to purchase tickets to events online. I’ve always been confused about those “delivery fees” and “convenience fees” that many of those sites charge (I’m omitting the fact that they are a really annoying form of hidden fees, which only show up after you’ve scrambled to find a ticket that offers you a good enough seat, which is an underhand way of forcing us to eat up those fees, just like parking garages that post prices in such as way that you can only see them once you’ve already entered the garage). Why would getting tickets online cost me more than getting them in any other way? And how expensive is it to “deliver” something electronically?

Web sites cost an order of magnitude less to maintain than any other method of collecting tickets (it’s important not to count the underlying ticketing mechanism since it is shared amongst all those methods). In fact, most other industries (such as airlines) add on extra fees if you don’t get your ticket online. And of course electronic delivery, as in sending an email or storing the ticket in the website, is virtually free (definitely not worth the $2.50 of whatever it costs now).

What’s worse, until recently, out of the several “ticket delivery methods” that those websites offered (print at home, will call, receive by regular mail), at least one of them didn’t cost anything (even if at the cost of increased burden). Well, I just purchased tickets through Telecharge two days ago, and to my surprise, I no longer had any option to not pay the ticket delivery fees.

Are we moving in the direction of hidden microcharges imposed on the customer gradually, without his/her knowledge?

The perfect language

Thursday, November 12th, 2009

There have been very many attempts to construct languages. Some of them–mostly ones to construct computer programming languages–have succeeded. While it’s been tempting to come up with a perfect human language (“perfect” defined in many ways: free of ambiguity, efficient, aesthetically beautiful), such attempts have failed.

Why is it so hard? It has to do with how humans utilize language. Language is a reflection of the way of thinking, and we think in a fuzzy way, so the language is fuzzy. If we try to make it precise, we’ll struggle to convert our thoughts into language.

A good example of this conflict is Esperanto. Zamenhof intended to have a language that’s perfectly phonetic. People struggle with the duality between spelling and pronounciation all the time, so why not solve the problem at the outset? It turned out to be an impossible mission. Exceptions to rules would appear (seemingly out of nowhere) as soon as the language was released and started living its life.

This is directly related to the fuzzy thinking that happens in our brains. We don’t just abide by strict rules of grammar; we implicitly trade off the consistency of structure (which is rigid) against the freedom of antistructure (which creates exceptions). It’s as if our brains were picking the most efficient representations of our thoughts.

Why are efficient representations not always structured? For example, why can’t language employ a Huffman-like encoding where frequently used concepts have “short” representations? It’s because we don’t know ahead of time what we will use frequently and a high cost of internalizing a representation means our brains have to pick the representations opportunistically. Greedy processes, such as this one, often create unstructured systems.

If you don’t believe that an ideal human language cannot exist, consider analogous systems, for example the organization of information in a workplace. I’m baffled at how little sense things we see at work make: information seems to be scattered everywhere, there are no standards for where to store documentation, links between sources of information are broken. It’s a particularly big pain when I try to apply a precise framework to the problem of information retrieval: for example, when I want to automate processes that operate on information. Naïvely I say to myself that if I had started all over again, information would be organized well and be easy to find, links would be maintained, standards in place would drastically reduce the complexity of solutions needed to tie all the information together. It’s a naïve view because that would be an incredibly inefficient approach (small systems benefit from unstructured solutions; as the systems get big, there are too many exceptions to come up with a good systematic solution).

This conflict between an efficient short-term (micro) solution and an effective long-term (macro) solution occurs all over the place. For example, game theorists know of many cases of games where locally optimal solutions are at odds with globally optimal ones (say, prisoner’s dilemma). The problem occurs because of lack of information: in the case of language, the brain doesn’t know what representation will be used frequently; in the case of technology it’s unclear what kind of standards are needed (implementing standards for standards’ sake is wasteful); in the case of prisoner’s dilemma, the prisoners don’t know if they can trust one another. There is no good solution.

Which is also why there will be no perfect language.

Where is motivation coming from?

Wednesday, November 11th, 2009

Lately I’ve become interested in trying to understand my behavior. It takes a good deal of patience and skill (and luck) to be able to introspect on the fly and think through why I reacted the way I did. For one, it’s a fascinating way to understand things about myself–my strengths, my weaknesses–but also it’s a great way to get to the root of some of the phenomena I’ve observed, and possibly learn to take advantage of them.

One specific thing I noticed today is that I seem to swing wildly between being incredibly motivated and shockingly unmotivated for no apparent reason. One moment I’d be all pumped up, excited about getting stuff done, and only two hours later I’d lose all incentive. Nothing obvious comes to mind (it’s not like I’m getting tired, or get disappointed at initial failures, or get hung up on something). What is it? Where is motivation coming from?

To be honest, I don’t know the answer. There are elements of the answer that I believe I have, though. For one, changes in motivation seem natural and inevitable, almost like the need to sleep. The majority of the things I do in the day are self-imposed (for example, working out, reading a book, replying to emails, cleaning up my room, etc.) and as such, they are not governed by simple incentive rules. In fact, I think that when I need to convince myself to do something, my mind creates a model (an incentive structure) that’s highly volatile and unsubstantiated (after all, why should I read that book or clean up that room? There is no direct link to a particular incentive). This model is sensitive to small changes in my desires and preferences: it’s a chaotic system; a small change in what I want (for example, I may be only slightly more tired than I was five minutes ago) causes a possibly massive change in how motivated I am.

I used to think that I can cheat by providing rigid frameworks. I’d give myself points if I achieved a certain task. Such tricks would often be short-lived, precisely because, being artificial, they created a fragile incentive structure and even the slightest doubt would make it fall apart. This is why nowadays I prefer to simply think harder about why I want to do something rather than just trick my brain to doing it. Hopefully this will help me internalize the principle better, and ultimately lead to a more permanent motivation.

My disillusionment with technology

Wednesday, November 11th, 2009

Most of us have used technology our entire lives. I rely on technology more than most people: a large part of what I do for a living has to do with technology. One thing that kind of hit me today as I was about to admit defeat to my Bluetooth headphones is that technology–how to put it eloquently–simply sucks.

It’s amazing how used we’ve gotten to many quirks that all sorts of devices (and particularly software) have been forcing us to live with. It’s not specific to a single technology company, or even a particular device/application type. For example, here is an excerpt of what I had to deal with just today (granted, today was especially bad, as you will see, but most of us go through similar experiences without ever noticing all the badness):

  • The clock in my room that’s supposed to adjust automatically based on Daylight Saving Time decided it should adjust the time again today. It’s ironic that the clock that’s supposed to be more accurate is actually much less reliable than a small travel clock that I bought fifteen years ago
  • I tried downloading new podcasts on my iPhone so I could listen to them later in the gym–this is an example of a use case where the iPhone 3G is particularly unresponsive and frustrating. After I selected a few podcasts for download and went back to the iPod screen, a screen would appear and not allow any user input for something like 7 seconds. 7 seconds!
  • I connected my Bluetooth headphones to my iPhone. First, some times the Bluetooth refuses to work once the iPhone screen saver kicks in so I had to restart my iPhone (I don’t mean to harp on Apple products, but, unfortunately I am perceiving a significant decline in stability and quality of Apple technologies in the past few years… it all seems to have started with the iPhone. This sucks because this was precisely the reason I switched to Apple after many years of stuff that simply didn’t work)
  • Then the Bluetooth headphones themselves gained a life of their own and started lowering the volume. I was unable to turn it up again
  • The treadmill stopped working displaying some cryptic number on the LCD after just 15 minutes of use. I had to power cycle it
  • Internet Explore, which I use at work, froze up for five seconds in gmail.
  • I had to press the remote that controls my garage door three times before the door opened

The examples are countless (I encourage you to make a list once just to get an idea of how much badness surrounds us).

I don’t think it’s acceptable. This is not how I envisioned technology. I envisioned technology that’s seamless, natural

We’re still far away from that ideal state–but it’s not surprising: given how technology builds on itself, the multitude of possible inputs (there are orders of magnitude more inputs that technology has to deal with than, say, a pen or even a lightbulb), and its relatively young age, technology is more like a toddler than anything else. Hopefully today’s technology will feel to our grandchildren the same way “health care” of the late nineteenth century feels to us.

In the meantime, for God’s sake, let’s fix the big problems. I feel like there are some inviolable rules that technology should adopt, that reflect the “natural” user experience. It’s unacceptable for a UI screen to “freeze” for 7 seconds, for example. Similarly, technology should give me easily digestible, informative feedback if anything takes longer than expected or is wrong. If I drag a corrupted file onto the main iTunes window, nothing happens. I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t held the file over the window for long enough so that the window could gain focus, or because there is something wrong with iTunes, or because there is something wrong with the file. Finally, technology should be forgivable, robust and stable. I should have an option to try a new but possibly unstable piece of technology (currently it feels more like I am forced to use unstable technology). Software companies currently do this, but, to be brutally honest, most software out there feels like it’s in beta stage. Finally, technology should ensure that the common use cases will always (or, as close to “always” as possible) work. If I use a stapler, I’m pretty confident it will staple my stack of papers. If I turn on Apple TV, I’m never sure if it’ll be able to see the movies on my network drive.

The first snow day of the season

Sunday, November 8th, 2009

I live in Connecticut, and so every year witness the sad routine that captures most of the Northeast: the first time it snows brings about total chaos on the roads. It’s as if drivers were suddenly unable to drive. There are always more accidents on that first day of snow, the roads clog up and (even if the traffic isn’t bad) everyone slows down to a crawl. It’s particularly disappointing given that (a) this happens invariably every year (sometimes a few times a year!), and (b) there is almost always ample warning in forecasts!

This coffee cup is hot!

Sunday, November 8th, 2009

The American lawsuit culture brought about something that really makes no sense to me: a displacement of common sense with blatant obviousness. I’ve asked for a freshly made coffee, of course it’s going to be hot! I’ve just used the restroom, of course I’ll need to wash my hands. The floor is shiny and there’s a janitor nearby, of course it’ll be slippery. Why do we need to be so painfully obvious? What is it doing to our children (it’s always been known that common sense is anything but common but given our current trajectory it seems that we want to make it extinct.

We tend to blame this on the litigiousness of our society, but that I believe was made possible with the popularization of–how to describe it–the rule of the precedent. The precedent is a strong argument in a lawsuit and so as soon as one case is won, an entire class of cases becomes an easy win. With the rule of the precedent, the entire system of interactions between people in a society (especially interactions between customers and service providers) is as strong as the weakest lawsuit. Somebody decides that the dangers of holding a cup of hot coffee are not obvious enough, and suddenly the entire society undergoes a transformation: the service providers want to avoid losing money in further lawsuits; and the customers start believing they can sue companies for not warning them of the dangers lurking in the hot coffee cup.

All it takes for the society to change significantly is one lawyer with a good case (this is why I believe that lawyers and judges have significantly higher impact on our society than any other group of people).

Of course there are great examples of where precedent brought about good changes but if we fail to step back and ensure to follow the spirit and not the letter of the law, we risk putting up a farce that has far-reaching consequences.

Branding

Sunday, November 8th, 2009

There’s been plenty of news coverage lately of H1N1. The same H1N1 that just half a year ago was popularly known as “swine flu”, but that name doesn’t seem to be thrown around anymore. The rebranding was conducted by the government, and I’m guessing it followed a successful lobbying effort by pork manufacturers, who have lost significant revenue from the misconception that you can contract swine flu by eating pork.

Branding is hugely important, especially in a culture of three-second attention spans (brought about by our need for instant gratification). In fact, if done successfully, a good product branding will make you believe it’s been like that all along. Most famously, Coca-cola gave Christmas the form it has today, having invented a bearded, grandfather-like Santa Claus in his funny costume and sprinkled red and white all over the place.