home
on exploration, introspection and creation

Archive for the ‘whatis’ Category

How we Add Value

Monday, August 2nd, 2010

I’m becoming increasingly more convinced that where one adds the most value in a workplace is not a set of skills one possesses, but the ability to make reasonable decisions faced with imperfect information, which is really just three things:

  • An ability to see the possible outcomes (ability to visualize; one something you may call creativity)
  • An ability to enumerate the value and the possible risks of each
  • An ability to evaluate these trade-offs

In other words, everything there is to a responsibility is the ability to make decisions and each decision is simply an output of an evaluation function of all the pros and cons of all the possibilities.

Acquired Taste

Thursday, July 29th, 2010

I remember disliking alcohol pretty much in any form until I was about 20 (and yes, I have been drinking prior to turning 21, since in some parts of the world such an act is legal). And recently my friend P.P. and I had a conversation about alcohol and he told me he still doesn’t like it (he’s about my age). This prompted me to think about what caused that transformation in me, and whether it is a good one (i.e. one that is beneficial to undergo — and under what circumstances).

I think that alcohol itself performs two roles: it’s a stimulant (which is why most people are drawn to it from a young age), and it’s a carrier of gustatory information. Wine wouldn’t taste as good if it had no alcohol in it, but alcohol itself is pretty disgusting.

I also think, at least for me, alcohol was an acquired taste — a taste which required me to forgo some utility in the short run in order to enjoy a lot more utility in the long run. That is, before I acquired a liking for alcohol, I was in a local maximum; I didn’t like alcohol but I stuck with it and over time, doing that has allowed me to experience a much greater wealth of experiences. I am proud to have a good friend T.C. convince me to keep trying Scotch as right now it’s pretty much the only liquor that I enjoy drinking (maybe except some in cocktails).

What solidified my understanding of acquired taste as something valuable and desirable were many other examples, especially in the past six months, of my tastes changing. I moved away from sweet, milk chocolate in favor of dark chocolate. I started enjoying spicy food (yes, even the chicken wings — mind you, I still dislike vomit sauce with all my might) and this opened up the wealth of the Indian cuisine to me. Finally, some distinct experiences where an ingredient I never liked (such as, for example, celery) found its way in a dish I had, and to my shock I liked how it tasted, made me realize that there are no bad ingredients, just bad ways of preparing them.

Another thing that an acquired taste allowed me to do is to be able to understand myself better. Acquired tastes, having a higher barrier of entry, are usually complex and our enjoyment of them is sensitive to many small changes in their olfactory and gustatory properties: there isn’t much you can say about, say, gummybears, but Scotch you can write manuals about. This forced me to understand what particular components of taste I like more than others.

I’m not sure P.P. will have alcohol any time soon. But there is a glimmer of hope — I did manage to find one drink he did not dislike.

A Universal Language

Wednesday, July 21st, 2010

One of the ideas behind Esperanto was supposed to be the abandonment of irregularities, especially the duality between sounds and glyphs. Esperanto was supposed to be a perfectly phonetic language.

As it turns out, no language can stay perfectly phonetic and in popular use at the same time. I think this is because as the language is used, we tend to optimize it, and the optimizations are not based on structure, because that’s not how our brains work. Think about the optimizations as a kind of cache — caches are not structured, they are simply a way to throw some hardware into a problem.

Which brings me to an important question. Can mankind use a single language? Not the way English is used now — English is more of a code than a language — a default option that everyone seems to agree on, due to its prevalence in the world, both geographically, but also culturally (the most impactful culture “producers” have been and are now English-speaking empires).

I think there is something about language and distance — just like you can only naturally interact with about one hundred and fifty people, you can only share culture with people closest to you. Despite globalization, the French have been, are, and will always be very different than the Chinese. Language will reflect that culture (why? Does it have to do with differing natural circumstances in the early history of the nations?) and so it will diverge if the cultures are divergent. It’s clear even on a smaller scale, with various dialects being distinctly different, not just in sounds, but often in syntax and semantics.

However, it may be possible to devise a kind of basis, a fundamental set of principles that everyone agrees on and can communicates basic thoughts with, but then uses the local language on top of that to express more complex thoughts. Something, I think, that Latin was to European languages a long time ago.

Wit and The Art of the One-liner

Tuesday, July 20th, 2010

My three friends and I were driving to a music festival. My friend, seeing a police car parked on the street, instantaneously responded: “There’s my ride home.”

There’s something beautiful about one-liners: a perfect narrative compression of the situation, an almost poetic ability to synthesize while retaining information (I compare poetry to lossless data compression: a way to say to much in so few words). They are closely related to the concept of wit: the ability to comment on a situation with insight and humor. Probably the most extreme — and hilarious — example of that relation were “the battles of the wits” that my friends would engage in: a dialogue where each subsequent response built upon the previous but towered over it in wit. Unsurprisingly, the dialogue consisted almost entirely of one-liners.

The Yearning for Metropoleis

Friday, July 9th, 2010

We long for living in a metropolis — a place densely packed with people. But then once we’re there, we avoid humans at all cost — we avoid eye contact on the subway, we tend not to talk to people on the street, we just want to go about our day uninterrupted. I think this contradiction is because we’re simply greedy/em>: we want the metropolis all to ourselves.

The word football

Tuesday, July 6th, 2010

What is the origin of the American word football for a game that involves, barring the initial and final kick, primarily carrying a ball on a field? In the very orderly world of mine all concepts would have words that most closely reflect their properties, in a way that minimizes the occurrence of conflicts (such as the problem of giving a name to a game that involves a ball actually being led on a field by foot). Of course, the popularity of each game would be an input in this kind of naming convention (it would be silly for words for obscure concepts to displace words used for widely known ones).

I would give American football a slightly more apt name; perhaps rugby 2. Or parabolic ball. Or pushball, shoveball or tackleball. I do realize the futility of such a complaint (unless, of course, the U.S. at some point (sadly not this year) does very well in the World Cup at which point soccer may gain in popularity and be a first-grade sport here as well).

Children and Life Purpose

Wednesday, June 30th, 2010

I couldn’t for a long time reconcile having children with having a life’s purpose — the former seems like a very time-consuming way to go about one’s life (putting all this effort into shaping one individual’s life, instead of a large group of people or even the entire planet).

Now I think that having children may be a way to extend the chance to make an impact, a kind of high-cost but perhaps higher-probability Plan B.

How revolutionary change happens

Monday, June 14th, 2010

I think that there is a pattern to revolutions.

  • Revolutions reflect a zeitgeist, a mutual understanding between a large group of people, that change is necessary
  • Revolutions happen through individuals, but the specific individual is not instrumental to the revolution: the individual just happens to be the catalyst

I like to explain this process as a superposition of two probability functions: one is the intensity of the mutual understanding — over time it grows and declines. The other is the ability for the specific individuals to push the group over the boundary. Revolutions then happen with a probability that is a compounding of those two effects. If a particularly strong individual comes around, the revolution is simply more likely to happen.

Scope Creep

Friday, June 11th, 2010

Scope creep — the phenomenon of an ever-expanding surface area that your product needs to cover — happens when you don’t convey a vision, and don’t collect requirements correctly.

My variation on “the customer is always right” is a — in my view — more accurate “the product should always be right for your customer, but the customer never knows what this means”.

If you don’t collect requirements correctly, you will end up with a product that is not right for the customer, and this will lead to scope creep (if you don’t want to lose the customer you will have to implement the delta between what the product ended up doing and what the customer wants it to do). The customer won’t know that — a common beginner’s error is in assuming that the customer knows what they are talking about when they tell you what they want — so it’s your responsibility to make the need tangible and coherent. Poor business analysts simply listen to what the customer says and write down what they hear. Good BAs understand the requirements (which often means truly understanding the needs, and with them, the habits, behind the product). Great BAs drive the requirements, providing to the customer something he or she never knew he or she needed.

“But it’s hard to do,” you’ll probably remark. Of course it’s hard to do, and this is why good BAs are hard to come by! Don’t confine yourself to conventional methods of doing requirements analysis — i.e. talking to the customer and writing down notes. Mock something up for, or — even better — with your customer, come up prepared with theories for what the customer might actually need, or start with the anti-requirements.

Much more important — especially for a product past its infancy — is the vision you set for the product. It defines the universe of needs that the product will address, and, consequently, the universe of features the product will contain. The vision is what allows your product to be unique and remembered; the vision creates the brand. It also makes the product easier to develop for the majority of its lifecycle — you know which customers to talk to, you know what skills you’ll require your engineers and marketers to have, your product is easier to implement because all features have something in common.

The vision for all products is fluid — it has to respond to the Zeitgeist, new information, other products — and the features in your product will change based on that vision. However, vision brings about a certain inertia — it gets harder to add features if the vision changes — and this is why all products die. So just get used to it: don’t be afraid to kill products, knowing that you can bring new ones to life.

To part with, an anecdote. Imagine (in a weird future-in-the-past universe) that a group of Dutch settlers came to you and said “we want you to encode a map for our new city”. You ask, “what will the streets look like?”. “Oh, it’s a very simple system; we’ll pretty much have a grid, streets going east to west, and avenues going north to south”. “Trivial!,” you exclaim and encode every intersection as a set of two coordinates (x, y). For example, an intersection of 23rd Street and 5th Avenue would be encoded as (23, 5).

A little later you realize that there are avenues which aren’t numbered and fall in between numbered avenues. You scratch your head — your elegant system doesn’t quite capture this — but you realize that you can just map these names to non-integral coordinates. For example, (42, 3.5) would be the intersection of 42nd Street and a street that falls between the Third and Fourth avenues (which the settlers decided to call, oh I don’t know, say, Lexington Avenue). You also need non-positive coordinates because there are avenues to the West of First Avenue (which the settlers called Avenues A, B, C, …)

Then you realize that there is a special avenue that is diagonal, i.e. it intersects other avenues! Your elegant system certain does not capture all those intersections, so you implement a special set of coordinates (x, D) where x is the street that avenue intersects, and (D, y), where y is the avenue, knowing that that diagonal avenue — which the settlers called Broadway — can be represented as a piecewise curve of four straight lines, and with some clever mathematics you can still compute distances, and so on.

Then a large park is built in the center of the city, which removes some intersections but adds another irregular street. You’re visibly frustrated now, but with an additional mapping of which intersections don’t actually exist, and with an additional “special” road that connects two ends of the block taken up by the park, your system still supports the use cases. Of course, it’s pretty complicated now and it’s getting difficult to add features to it.

Finally the settlers tell you that actually, south of the 1st Street, there is a completely irregular grid of streets that are named, not numbered. That’s when you quit.

If only you had gathered requirements well in the first place…

Surprising Origins of Things (part IV)

Wednesday, June 9th, 2010

The current iteration of the U.S. Flag has been designed by a high school student