THE CHEMISTRY OF PERSPECTIVE

December 11th, 2020

The greatest barrier to understanding between people is buried within the chemistry of perspective.  Handing a 3 year old a weighty tome with fine print that describes the fragility and  varied hormetic responses capable by different structures of society and biology is.. pointless.  The perspective a 3 year old is of a composition that is totally unfit for dense reading replete with vocabulary and concepts that are worlds apart from the one being explored by a 3 year old mind.  We recognize this difference easily enough, even if we do it with an incorrect air of superiority regarding what someone is or isn’t ready for.

Something related is occurring when we give a mind-blowing book to a friend and their overall reaction is casual and fairly unimpressed.  In such circumstances chemistry forms a good analogy.  Some compounds, when mixed, will create a reaction.  Sometimes that reaction can be fairly spectacular, as when some Francium is dropped in water.  The reaction is a legitimate explosion.  Switch the Francium for oil, and there’s no reaction whatsoever.  In fact, the two have a kind of anti-reaction and refuse to even mix.

Some books, ideas, films, even people can feel as though they’re made of Francium when they are dropped into the pool of one’s mind.  Others are like oil.

But the crucial difference between the chemistry of perspective and actual chemistry, is that our mind changes over time.  What once inspired pure obstinance in our mind can one day be welcomed in.  Perspective is like a chemical that can change it’s own composition and by doing so create beneficial reactions with new things that once had no effect.

Often none of this nuance is on the table when people are trying to communicate with one another.  Most communication and attempts at persuasion resemble a crude, brutal and ultimately ineffective kind of palimpsest.  We try simply to overwrite someone else’s thoughts and opinion with our own by talking louder, by repeating ourselves.  Such misdirected attempts often just create frustration and anger.

One way to realize the utter futility of such attempts is to recognize that there’s no concrete body of text or belief that exists inside of someone somewhere where we might erase and rewrite.  A person’s beliefs, their words and their actions are an emergent property of a complex process of perspective as it functions through time.  This isn’t to say that perspective can’t be influenced, but only to point out that like chemistry, the agent of change requires a certain composition that will be in sync with the chemistry of that perspective.  

This is why it can be so powerful within the realm of persuasion to first ask questions: doing so can reveal the chemistry of another’s perspective and provide clues for what sort of message or information it will react best with.  Without knowing the details of another’s perspective, our message has little better chance than the deluded alchemists of old who thought they could figure out how to create gold by mixing together different chemicals and metals.

VOCATIONAL REFUGEE

December 10th, 2020

This episode is dedicated to the person behind the Twitter handle @nutzeeer

It seems likely that anyone who makes a living as a truck driver is going to wake up soon and find that the majority of their professional function has been outsourced to a robotic truck that doesn’t need to sleep, never looses focus, doesn’t need to eat, and requires no human.  This sort of thing was very rare in the past and with the induction of the industrial revolution a couple hundred years ago, this phenomenon is becoming more frequent.  With the accelerating evolution of technology in nearly every facet of life there is a real probability that this situation may become a kind of norm across the board.  The dominate perspective around this either lapses into full-fledged denial, rebutted by comments like “not in my lifetime!”  or it’s met with a sober fear.  But both may be over reactions.

As humans, we seem particularly talented at failing to realize how quickly things have changed and failing to see how quickly things might continue to change.  It was but a few short years ago no one had a cellphone, let alone a supercomputer which connects a person to a global web replete with knowledge, communication and other resources.  The new normal becomes business as usual exceptionally quick, and soon enough we are smirking with the thought of incompetence when the wifi craps out while sitting in a metal tube that is safely hurtling through the stratosphere at several hundred miles per hour.  It perhaps does well to remember that Wilbur Wright, one half of the brother team that first achieved flight, said that man would not fly for at least fifty years - and that he said this just two years before he and his brother figured it out.

In an age of accelerating technology, more and more people are going to be obligated with the humbling task of eating their own words after saying “Not in my life time!”

But returning to that truck driver, what is a person supposed to do?  When your main set of skills suddenly becomes irrelevant because there is a much cheaper non-human way to get the work done, the situation creates a kind of Vocational Refugee.  The year 2020 has given many a taste of this sort of situation by dint of governmental lockdowns.  Many people have suffered due to the financial dead end created by an inability to generate an income coupled with the sheer need to live.  Some governments had the resources and the organizational power to fill in this missing piece of the puzzle, effectively putting a kind of ‘pause’ on the lives of many workers.

How was the time for such people spent?  Did such people recognize the fragility of their profession and get busy carving out a new career in a more robust field that can stand the shock of something like a pandemic?  Certainly some did.  But most?  Very hard to say, but likely.. not.

One reason for this is the retirement paradox.  Many people, after retiring from a long career spanning many decades simply stop doing… anything.  Having been somewhat forced to do tasks under the guidance of a boss for so many years, it’s clear that something lively deep within the human spirit gets beaten down to the point where a retired person just doesn’t want to do anything they don’t want to do, and having been completely starved of the time required to discover what they might actually enjoy putting some effort into, there is only a void that is filled, most often with TV and food.  Mindless consumption becomes the Modus Operandi of the mind that has forgotten how to motivate itself.

To juxtapose, notice how very wealthy, older people who have created their own companies don’t really ever seem to retire.  Jeff Bezos could retire with enough money to float him for several hundred lifetimes of the most opulent expenditure.  And yet he keeps going to work.

Why?

The answer is painfully obvious, but not one that many people juxtapose with themselves in a tight enough way to really resonate.  He does it because he wants to.  So why don’t more retired people want to do things?  Particularly difficult things?  It goes back to that double-edged human talent of adjusting to a new normal: if you’ve spent years and decades following the dictates of others, your ability to generate dictates for yourself has likely lost it’s voice from disuse.  One of the principles of Tinkered Thinking applies here: 

Use it to boost it or lose it.

Things are either pushed forward to improve, or they degenerate on their own.  This applies to things as elemental as drive, creativity and personal fulfilment.

Using and boosting any of these characteristics requires time and energy, and for many working people all that time and energy is devoted to the fulfillment of a job as dictated by someone else, and so when a big fat chunk of time suddenly comes along, many people just don’t know what to do with it, and their natural energy suddenly has no direction.  More importantly such people have little ability to direct their own energy because that task has been handled by the routine of a job.   Aimless energy turns into an anxiety that is often quelled in a retired way: with mindless consumption.  

Directing one’s own energy is a skill that requires exercise like a muscle.  And without regular exercise, it’s nothing short of a painful shock to suddenly try and use it after long disuse - as with any muscle.

That pernicious human ability to quickly adjust turns out to be a virtue in this situation.  Soon enough the pain and shock subsides with continued exercise and with practice, it doesn’t become too difficult to direct one’s own energy and find a more fulfilling way of living.  But that’s easier written in a sentence than actually done - many people don’t achieve it, even when handed the opportunity.

One might imagine a sort of restart-center - a place or a program that would enable someone to subsist, that is the basic necessities are taken care of: food and shelter, and this persists for as long as it takes for someone to get back on their feet with a new purpose, mission and career.  It’s a nice thought, but such a thing probably doesn’t exist because there’s no clear nor guaranteed return on investment, and because it’s never been tried before.

There are, however, programs and economic structures emerging that tap into this idea.  An ISA is an Income Sharing Agreement, which means, instead of going into debt to pay for a program, a person will dedicate a percentage of their future income to the program that is enabling them with the skills to get that job in the first place.  The growing coding school called Lambda School functions with this sort of set up, and the results so far have been spectacular from the looks of it.  People who were formally making sandwiches or even homeless are now buying homes with the salaries they have earned after going through Lambda School.  Notice, how the incentives are aligned correctly in this situation.  Teachers are motivated to create very capable students because if they don’t, then the school doesn’t make any money.  

Notice how this sort of incentive structure has always been absent from something that might look like a ‘restart center’.  Are there any homeless shelters that have the agreement option that they will provide food and shelter in exchange for a percentage of income after a person has learned a new skill and gotten back on their feet?  If so, I’d love to know about such a homeless shelter.  

Frankly, before recent times, there wasn’t much incentive to experiment with such structures.  Most people stuck with a profession for decades on end.  Those who lost their jobs were just deemed unlucky, like the Ludites. But as this situation becomes more frequent and widespread - exacerbated particularly by the student loan crises, civilization will be pressed to explore new structures to enable its continuation.  

This is a key point.  Ask yourself: what’s the point of civilization?  There might be some future evolved answer, but for the most part, civilization is an experimental survival technique.  We found out we were far more capable as a larger group than as a smaller group or on our own.  If the structure of civilization suddenly betrays this core function -it doesn’t lead to the crumbling of society or the apocalypse as many think but to an evolution of civilization.

A total melt down is certainly possible.  It’s happened to many pockets of civilization throughout the millennia, but the root cause of our anxiety today may also function as a protective solution to the problem it seems to cause.  That being, technology.  We are more connected than ever before and on many metrics, society is improving rapidly, as hard as that might be to believe given the flashy and shocking bad news that spreads so quickly and easily on the news and within social media platforms.    One good example is how acutely aware we are of impending climate change problems.  Former incarnations of human civilization would have had no warning on such a topic.  Asteroid impacts are another - former civilizations would be caught totally off guard, but present civilization actively tracks the position and velocity of nearly every large object in the solar system.  Reflect for a moment on how utterly incredible that fact is.  We achieve this task to such a degree of resolution that we’re quite sure a rather large object is going to impact Earth in 48 years.  Is it something to worry about?  Only if you don’t know about it.  Which is a very inconvenient catch-22 of which we are on the right side of.  48 years is far more time than we need to figure out how to nudge that existential disaster off course.

Zooming out on the topic of civilization and zooming back in reveals one important trend: we are adaptive, and crucially, we are becoming more adaptive as times necessitate. 

Yes, adaptation is painful, but luckily, we are quite capable in this area.  For some, such adaptation might be a low probability outcome, especially if those muscles of adaptation and self-determination haven’t really been exercised for decades.  But low-likelihood is infinitely more likely than impossible.  If incentives and pressures are of proper structure and intensity, chances are just about everyone can change.

One final facet of this topic is absolutely fundamental: stress.  Losing a job with nothing new on offer is extremely stressful.  When necessities like food and shelter are under threat as a result, the human brain has a very high likelihood of entering a vicious downward spiral of chronic stress.  The most important fact about chronic stress is that brain function is severely impacted in the overwhelming majority of people.  Put simply: the poorer a person is, the less likely a person will get out of poverty because the stress of poverty makes it far more difficult to think properly and make good long term decisions.  This is a neurological fact: chronic stress makes you stupid.  Or rather, it makes MOST people stupider than they actually are.  This sly process is conveniently absent from discussion of poverty, debt (which is one of the largest causes of chronic stress), welfare programs and differentiations between classes of people.  No discussion of this topic is even remotely informed without a thorough understanding of the neuroendocrinology involved.  These neurological processes and effects were first and foremost laid bare in Dr. Robert Sapolsky’s book “Why Zebra’s Don’t Get Ulcers”. Which is essential reading on the topic.

The conclusion to be drawn from such research provides a deep logic for why new incentive structures like Income Sharing Agreements as offered by Lambda School are experiencing such incredible success.  Rumour has it that Lambda School has grand future ambitions to expand into many different fields of study and skill, effectively creating a kind of restart structure for those who find themselves to be vocational refugees.

RIVALNYM: HUMILITY

December 9th, 2020

If you are unfamiliar with the concept of a Rivalnym, it is something developed by Tinkered Thinking to address a certain class of words and concepts that fall in a strange place between Synonyms and Antonyms.  A rivalnym is a word, or rather, a pair of words that are somewhat synonymous in literal meaning, but opposite in terms of the emotional valence we ascribe to the thing being described.

A pair of words that makes a good example is Nervous and Excited

One is generally positive, that is, excited, and nervous is generally more negatively valence, and yet, what registers our excitement?  Our nerves.  And when we are nervous, is it not because our nerves are in an excited state?

So given this sly structure that seems to exist between antonyms and synonyms, how can this pair of words be understood:

Humility

&

Humiliating

The enormous similarity between these words simply can’t be ignored.  They both derive from the same root word:  Humility, humiliating and humble all come from the Late Latin humiliate from humilis, meaning “lowly,” literally “on the ground,” from humus meaning “earth,” which originates from a Proto-Indo European root also meaning “earth”.  

On is perhaps rightfully reminded of the image of a religious adherent on their knees, perhaps bowing low to the ground.  Such an act is literally humble because of an actual proximity to the earth.

So how is it that two words like humble and humiliating -while having sprung from the same mother origin- be so different in their meaning?  If both humility and humiliation result in some sort of lowly position, perhaps quite literally to the ground, or figuratively in terms of emotional experience, why is one generally regarded as positive and the other negative?  These two words fit the structure of Rivalnyms perfectly because of this subtle yet extreme difference.

The other verb in this family of earth-sprung words, humbling, helps parse the difference.  For example: is it humiliating to be humbled?  Hard to say.  Perhaps in some cases, but certainly not in all situations.  

What causes a person to reflect on an experience and say ‘That was humbling’, rather than ‘That was humiliating’ has to do with the interplay of perspective between the person who is the subject of the verb and exactly what is administering that verb.

For example, it can be quite humbling when a project that has taken a lot of work fails to achieve it’s planned end.  But what exactly is the cause of this failure?  Quite hard to say.  The best answer in many cases is simply that the nature of reality was the cause.  

The switch to humiliation really hinges on the perspective and involvement of others.  If someone is trying to humiliate someone else, then this intention goes a long way in terms of defining the situation.  But notice the difference between a bitter lover posting revealing photos of a painter in an attempt to humiliate versus a chess player who crushes their opponent without gloating nor indicating any kind of pleasure other than the opportunity to simply play a round of the game.  One situation is humiliating, while the other most likely evokes humility in the checkmated player.

One important relationship to highlight between these words is that it’s generally very difficult to humiliate someone who has a lot of humility.

Humility functions like a shield that has nothing to protect.  The attack often backfires, having nothing else to hit, making the attacker look like a misdirected fool.

Interpreting the situation with a literal definition of the words: it’s impossible to bring someone lower when they’re already on the ground.

Of course it’s possible to humiliate someone who is on the ground, but thinking this is an false mix of both literal and figurative.  The figurative equivalent would be that despite all efforts of humiliating someone who is on the ground, if that person has sufficient humility, then the attack has no effect on their state of mind and feeling.

As with most Rivalnyms, the divide and connection here has to do with perspective.  Just as we can anxiously or eagerly await a date who is on their way, we can interpret the events that come our way as humbling or humiliating.  In both circumstances the anxiety that tips our consciousness into the negative has to do with the perspective of others that we imagine.  

This is at the core of the ubiquitous advice to ‘not care what anyone else thinks’.  The reason is because if you care too much about the perspectives of others, then your interpretation of events is more likely to lapse into the negative, into an anxiousness and a sense of humiliation and particularly: embarrassment.  We might wonder if the word ‘embarrassment’ is part of a Rivalnym pair?  What’s the positive form of embarrassment?

Probably just an ability to laugh at yourself.

An examination of rivalnyms help illuminate some of the subtle structures that exist within language.  They represent principally unconscious choices in perspective, often grouped around a sense of pessimism or optimism. Our perspective on the world determines how we describe that world, but the opposite might hold true: if we change the way we describe the world, we might be able to shift our perspective of it.

CONSCIOUS GLOSS

December 8th, 2020

Pet peeves are a particularly pernicious part of human psychology.  Merely having a pet peeve seems to be an act of deliberate self-torture.  It certainly can’t be masochistic because the activation of a pet peeve is universally regarded as a particularly unwanted grating of nerves. But with just the smallest pause to consider, the source mechanism for this annoyance is very easy to locate.  It’s certainly not located in or around that external phenomenon that is driving our own mind crazy.  No, any pet peeve is a feature of the mind that gets annoyed.

Consider just how self-destructive this phenomenon is: say a loved one does something that becomes quite annoying over time and with exposure.  There’s likely no intention to be annoying on the part of this person.  The pet peeve develops within the observer, and yet how do we try to solve this?  Do we try to edit the issue at the source - that source being our own mind where the pet peeve actually exists?  No, we try to change other people to suit our constantly shifting fickle mind, and then of course the game of squashing pet peeves becomes a never-ending game of whack-a-mol, and soon enough a loved one has a terrible impression of themselves as simply a constant source of annoyance, despite not an iota of intention.  

Most of our self-destructive behaviors function on this structure.  We are inspired to look for a solution in every place except where the actual problem exists.  But instead of opening that flood gate wide to examine all the knotted strands that constitute the effect of stress on thinking, the problem of pet-peeves serves as a reliable proxy for much such effects.  So the question begs: how exactly do you get rid of a pet peeve?

Within the discussion of love and pair-bonding, one signal of success that is often reported is the ability to gloss over unimportant flaws and to highlight the good, without ignoring truly terrible characteristics.  This is a tricky balance, and one for the most part that is achieved by luck more than anything.

But, it need not always be luck.  There is a way to consciously gloss over the unimportant things in a way that is actually effective.  At first glance this might sound similar to the modern misconception of stoicism: to simply suppress one’s feelings on the topic.  But this is the misconception.  Stoicism, much like mindfulness practice in the East is about a proper integration and regulation of emotion.  The result might look like a suppression.  As in, something that would anger you happens to someone else and yet they still seem calm as a kitten.  But this is simply ignorance to an invisible process of full emotional acknowledgement and conscious decision about how much the emotion should impact one’s reaction to the world.

The stoics had the all sorts of thought exercises to help create a frame of mind that can pull off this trick, but it was the buddhists who developed an explicit cognitive training to achieve this sort of harmony between mind and feeling.  As with most everything, it’s a training that takes some time to yield results, but when the reward is a life devoid of pet peeves, it’s hard to stop that training once some of the fruits are tasted.

FUSED-SENSE READING

December 7th, 2020

In the realm of productivity, speed reading is one of the first and apparently most important skills to learn and hone.  The logic is simple and a bit quaint: the information is out there, if only we can find it, consume it and integrate it.  The faster such unknown information can be consumed, the sooner we are more appropriately informed, and finally, the quicker we can benefit from our own wise and fully-informed decisions.  The extreme end-goal of such logic would be to ingest all of humanity’s knowledge and synthesize some kind of core secret that unlocks a vast store of agency.  

While a future artificial intelligence might actually be able to do something like this, the potential for people to rapidly ingest huge amounts of text is probably a bit of a lark and a farce.

Personally, this reader always found it odd that classmates couldn’t remember the text well enough to answer certain specific questions about that text despite the claimed fact that they’d read the whole thing.  What goes unnoticed in such reporting is of course how much time was spent reading the text.

Skimming is the false art of quickly looking at some text in order to pick out what is actually important.  It’s a false art because how can someone skimming text know if they’ve skipped over something important or not?  This is certainly possible with something like a recipe list.  Skimming a list for what one is missing is a fairly straightforward task of looking for the unfamiliar.  Recent interaction with a sac of flour, the butter, the sugar, the yeast makes their ready placement in memory quick to strike off the list.  We skim in order to find what isn’t in memory.  But when it comes to a block of text, the effort to ‘skim’ is entirely different.  

Skimming text is only as telling as what actually registers, and if an argument of any legitimate nuance or complexity exists in that text, chances are it’s not just skimmed but skipped.

This is what was happening with those classmates.  Then again, teachers might be vindictively incentivized to ask questions about the text that evidence whether the a student actually spent a meaningful amount of time with the text or not.

Such an arms race of ego and time requires a bit of a reset, and zooming out to check on the larger picture.  We must ask:

What exactly is the point of reading in the first place?

This certainly depends on what is being read.  If it’s a recipe list, then savouring the exquisitely chosen order of words is not exactly the experience we are looking for, nor is it what the author is concentrating on that case either.  If it’s a classic work of fiction, then reading it at a breakneck skimming speed is likely defeating the purpose of the piece of art in the first place: no one runs through an art gallery, so why are we skimming works of art that exist on the page?

But then of course there is non-fiction: the apparently informative stuff that is written to aid others with the task of making better decisions based on an incisive picture of the topic at hand.  This is where the long entrenched economics of bookselling rears an inconvenient face.  Ideas come in all sorts of shapes and sizes, and yet non-fiction books generally have an eerie likelihood of hovering around a certain number of pages - a certain word count.

Is this because there is some sort of cognitive and communicative benefit to be had by torturing ideas with this procrustean bed?  

It always seems like a curious tragedy when a non-fiction book gets it’s length cut.  Certainly the author is more expert in the topic than the publisher, so doesn’t it follow that important content is being left out?  How is it that the publisher knows more about what should be featured than the expert?  Certainly there is a worthy and useful question of how to communicate that content, but to include or not include seems like a grave decision to leave to someone who is, at the end of the day, just a reader.

The opposite is more common:  many books are way longer than they need to be.  The core idea of most non-fiction books warrant little more than the length of an excellent essay - not hundreds of pages of fluffy extrapolation that usually just dilute the core message.

From a purely economic standpoint, it seems we don’t see any value in essays. No is really making a living off of essays.  But if that essay can be plumped up with a few hundred breezy pages, then hey, we might have a New York Times Bestseller on our hands!

The actual details of mass production regarding book length are beyond the scope of treatment here, but given experience with publishing The Lucilius Parables Vol. I, it seems that there is a clear incentive against mass production of very short books or very long books.  There is clearly a sweet spot that the publishing industry has found regarding length.  It’s the humble conjecture of this writer that print-on-demand services are going to destroy the validity of this sweet spot once print-on-demand technology has properly scaled.

The question, however, remains:  how do we read quickly without missing what is important?

There is perhaps one hack that might be legitimate, but it requires buying the book twice.  The only way to speed up subvocalization of text is to quite literally speak the text way faster, but this is completely unnatural and impossible to practice without coming across like a complete lunatic.  Modern audiobooks, however, present a technological hack to this bizarre task.  Audiobooks can be played, often 3 or more times their normal speed and in the case of naturally slow readers, this speed of often quite larger than the pace which text is subvocalized. 

But just listening to an audiobook at a quick pace doesn’t really seem to do the trick completely.  It’s easy to stop listening while concentrating on a different task.  And perhaps some deeply embedded listener in the brain sends up a flare to stop, rewind and properly take in an important point.

Complementing the audiobook with the actual physical book seems to have the proper multiplicative effect that people who lust after the coveted speed reading ability are after.  With both eyes and ears focused on a rapidly moving text, there is double the sensory input to pick upon something that is incoming at a pace that is double or more the usual.

Reading is ultimately an act of sifting, and the slower we sift, the more thorough a job we achieve, but if we have more resources (sense) allocated to the process of sifting, then it goes to reason we can sift faster without sacrificing quality.

Our senses are these resources, and having two dedicated to a text quite literally uses different parts of the brain simultaneously to parse the same object.  While the neurological details here aren’t known, the logic seems sound: two hands wash the dishes far faster than just one hand.  Reading with both the eyes and the ears, with the audiobook input pushing the eyes to keep up creates a reading ability that operates with fused senses.

There are other benefits to Fused-Sense Reading that aren’t all that obvious.  For example, with a little practice, it becomes possible to linger on a line visually, while the audiobook zooms along, perhaps to highlight the line, or write in a note, and then instantly pick up the audiobook’s place lower on the page.  Even while writing a note, the audiobook is still fairly understandable, at least enough to know if that small portion should be investigated with more depth.  Think about how this usually happens without an audiobook.  We completely stop the task of reading in order to maintain hand-eye-coordination to highlight or jot down a note.  With the audiobook, we continue reading while the eyes handle this necessary but ultimately mundane task.  

The same applies to other things, as when something in the environment becomes distracting.  Where as normally we can forget there’s a book in our hands and get lost in the distraction, that audio playing is a constant jog to pay attention or lose the thread.  Inundating the senses doubly in this way seems to raise the likelihood and quality of focus.  With the physical book in hand, we are tasked with trying to keep up the pace visually, and this requires actually listening.  Whereas with just an audiobook, we merely listen without any auxiliary need to pay constant attention.  We can become distracted, fail to hear, and then tune back in without any incentive to back up - it’s the equivalent of skipping by skimming when we attempt to ‘speed read’.  But this doesn’t happen when the physical book is present because if the audiobook gets too far ahead, the whole enterprise becomes decoupled, and the incentive against this in practice is quite strong.

The key to this Fused-Sense Reading is the consistent, high speed possible with an audiobook.  Whereas the eyes may grow slow reading on their own, and the ears might fail to listen, the combination forces a high, consistent input.  This also allows for the reading of full books to be more accurately planned out.  A 700 page book on neuroendocrinology need not take an epic on-off battle of months and even years, but merely a couple dozen mornings of hours sprints with both the eyes and the ears tuned in at a generous clip.