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~ Finding, formulating and solving life's frustrations.

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Wordless Perfection

20 Wednesday Jan 2021

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

art, drawing, education, intuition, problem formulation, Representation, Right-brain, thinking

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Sirius Black

I like to write. In fact, I like to write so much that I wrote before I could even read. When my early crayon “writings” in my grandfather’s books were discovered, instead of praise, I was spanked. I’m not even sure they really tried hard to read my learned annotations. Their missing the point didn’t deter me though. I like words! I like writing poetry, essays, stories, plays, and even novels. Words help human beings communicate and collaborate. However…

In this essay, I’d like to mention some instances of wordless success.

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In the neighborhood where I grew up, we spent most of the summer playing baseball, basketball, and football. I had never played golf nor paid much attention to it as a kid and when it came on TV I walked by with hardly a glance. At that point in my life, it was really only a sport if there was a good chance to smash into one of the other players. I had never touched a golf club or a golf ball until one summer day when I was about ten, one of the kids brought one of his uncle’s golf clubs to our baseball field along with a tee and a golf ball. He demonstrated how to hit the ball and showed us how to put our hands on the club. Kids took turns hitting the ball and retrieving it for another go. 

When it came to my turn, I mainly remember just loving the shiny wood of the club. I loved wooden baseball bats back then, but the driver!! Wow! That was in a whole different category of cool. You didn’t need to be an adult or a golfer to know that! It shone opalesquely. I teed up the golf ball, and swung the unfamiliar and impossibly long club.

The resulting sound – exquisite! An explosion! A rifle shot. A cousin of the crack of a home run shot into the upper deck. But more penetrating. More elegant. More poignant.

We all looked up in amazement. My golf shot started low and straight. Then it rose and rose and disappeared far beyond the dirt road that marked the outer limit of our makeshift baseball field. It rose over the hill beyond the road and disappeared into the field beyond. There was no hope of retrieving the golfball. None of us even suggested trying. My shot was wordless perfection. 



Fast forward to graduate school. In the summer afternoons, I got into the habit of playing frisbee with the neighbors. One day, I parked my car and ran into the back yard. My neighbor saw me and threw me the frisbee, I noticed that they had placed an empty beer can atop a utility box about a hundred feet away. I caught the frisbee on the run and threw it with the next step. The frisbee sailed with a nice arc and smacked the beer can right off. My neighbors said that they had been trying to knock that beer can off for about a half hour.  My throw was wordless perfection.

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Meanwhile, at the University of Michigan, several of my friends and classmates like puzzles as much as I did. One such puzzle consisted of a set of triangular “board” with a regular pattern of holes. There were pegs in every hole save one. The goal was to “jump” pegs much as one does in checkers and then remove that peg from the board. Eventually, one was supposed to end up with one and only one peg. I worked on it for awhile and thought about various strategies and moves. I couldn’t seem to solve it. My phone rang. I picked it up and conversed with my friend. Meanwhile, I toyed with the puzzle while my “mind” was on the conversation. I toyed with the puzzle and solved it. Wordless perfection.

A few months or weeks later, we worked on another puzzle. This one consisted of four cubes (aka
“instant insanity”). Each cube had a different arrangement of colors. The goal was to arrange the cubes so that every “row” of faces had four different colors. I fiddled with the puzzle trying out various strategies and noting various symmetries and asymmetries. Once again, someone called and interrupted my musings. Again, I idly fiddled around with the cubes while talking on the phone. And solved it. Wordless perfection strikes again! 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Instant_Insanity

Fast forward four decades. For best results, borrow Hermione’s time-turner. Otherwise, you’ll have to rely on your imagination. 

Betty Edwards (“Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain”) gave a plenary address at one of the Association of Computing Machinery’s premier conferences: CHI. Among other things, she showed example after example of how much people improved in their drawing skills based on her methods. A few months later, it so happened that my wife and I had an opportunity to go to one of her five day classes. 

I would have to honestly say, that course was one of the best educational experiences of my life! It was an immensely pleasurable experience in and of itself. Beyond that, the results in terms of improved drawing skills were dramatic. And, as if that were not enough, I looked at the world differently. I noticed visual things about the environment that I had not seen before. 

The essence of the method Betty Edwards uses is to get you to observe and draw — while “shutting up” or “turning off” the part of your brain (or mind) that talks and plans and categorizes. In one exercise, for instance, we took a line drawing and turned it upside down. Then, we copied that image onto our pad of paper by carefully observing and drawing what we saw. She also instructed us not to try to “guess” what they were drawing, but just to copy the line. When every line had been copied, we turned the drawings right side up again. The result jolted me! I had created an excellent likeness of the original! The quality stunned me. Wordless Perfection.

There’s a larger lesson here, too. 

I had within me, the capacity to make a very decent copy of a drawing, but had never achieved that result for 60 years! All it took was five minutes of instruction to enable me to achieve that. 

What else is like that? Imagine that we have, not just one, but a dozen or even a dozen dozen “hidden talents.” Some of them, like drawing, may depend more on Not-Doing than on Doing; on Being rather than Achieving.

There was a longer lasting side-effect of the drawing course. My day to day life, as is typical of most achievement-driven people had been very much “goal-driven” and there was always an ongoing plan and dialogue. After having learned to turn that off in order to draw, I can also turn it off in order to see, whether or not I draw. Seeing (or otherwise sensing or feeling) in the moment also makes me much less judgmental. If you decide to think about the physical appearance of people in terms of how interesting they would be to draw, you end up with an entirely different way of thinking about people’s appearance. 

What are your hidden talents? 

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The Invisibility Cloak of Habit 

Big Zig-Zag Canyon 

The Great Race to the Finish!

You Fool!

Horizons University

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Comes the Dawn

Author Page on Amazon

The Lost Child Who Brings Light

07 Tuesday Apr 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, politics, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

acceptance, dark, education, fiction, ignorance, leadership, light, psychology, story, Veritas

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“Who goes there?!” Two well-armed guards stood on either side of a broad path. Several of the villagers were cautiously walking up the path toward the guards, curious about the strangers. 

Trunk of Tree cleared his throat, but he hadn’t thought about what to say. 

Fleet of Foot began to answer, “We are Veritas. From the Center Place of the Veritas. Near the once-forgotten Field of Flowers. I am called “Fleet of Foot” and this man is called “Trunk of Tree” — you can probably see why. This woman is named Cat Eyes. She was born here, but stolen at a young age. Now, she returns to see her family.”

The guards both frowned. It was a lot to take in. Behind the guards, the crowd began murmuring and passing along the information. 

One of the guards began, “We are Veritas. I am Throws Far and this is Tree Climber. Our ancestors lived near the once-forgotten Field of Flowers. We have tried many times to send a party back to the Center Place but no-one has ever gotten through. Come and meet our leader.  Follow me. Wait. Why do you have horses?” 

Trunk of Tree began to answer, “We — I don’t really like horses anyway. They are too big.” 

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Fleet of Foot added, “We have very little experience with horses. They just came into our possession recently. It is a long tale, but we will tell all your people. Cat Eyes wishes…”

Cat Eyes put her hand on her chest. “I am Cat Eyes. I smell spicebush tea.” Tears ran down her cheeks though she reined in her breathing so that she could continue speaking. “I thought I would never find my way back here. Do you know my parents, Gathers Acorns and Of the Night?”

The guards exchanged looks. Throws Far said, “Your parents? I know them. I knew them. They left to find you. We have not heard from them. We assume…we think…it’s likely that the fell into the hidden holes in the Ice Mountain. But how did you get here without going over Ice Mountain?”

A beautiful lanky youth with long ebony hair pushed her way through the growing crowd. “Cat Eyes? Is that really you?” She walked right up and looked into the teary eyes. “Oh! Cat Eyes! It is you! I am your cousin, Blackberry Patch!” Blackberry Patch gently took the hand of Cat Eyes into her own and led her along the path to the Fire Circle. Cat Eyes stared around. The Fire Circle looked familiar though vastly smaller than she remembered. There was a cliff of brown stone which she remembered but there were many … rooms … in the cliff which she did not remember at all. “It’s nice to meet you, Blackberry. I don’t. But I’m sorry I don’t remember you.” 

 “I remember you! You were quite a … you were always…do you remember playing ‘Hide and Find’ with me?” 

Cat Eyes kept casting her eyes about to try to find things that looked familiar. She looked back at Blackberry and then over to the brown cliff. She pointed, “I think we played there … in the …  tunnels. But it looks all different.” 

Blackberry Patch nodded. “Oh, yes! We have been excavating. We’ve found out —- there used to be — we’ve found many things of the ancients! But never mind that. Let me introduce you to the others. We never thought you would be found. After your parents … we’ve never made it out of these mountains. The mountain of ice is now very unsafe. Much of it is mud and where there is ice, there are hidden cliffs. We stopped trying. But some people think that there might be a tunnel in the ancient places in the cliff. Here.” 

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Although Blackberry Patch spoke directly to Cat Eyes, everyone who could get close enough was listening. The rumor had now spread throughout the village that strange visitors had come and that one of their own had returned. Nearly everyone in the village had heard the story of Cat Eyes and most of the adults in the village remembered her specifically because of her oddly shaped pupils. They all had to wriggle themselves close enough so that they could verify that this was indeed the one who had disappeared. The people stopped their normal activities and crowded around. Many questions were asked but confusion reigned until the man who was obviously their leader came solemnly among them. His voice boomed low and loud, cutting through the din. 

“WELCOME! WELCOME! Oh, long lost of the Veritas! And Welcome, Oh, Welcome to the daughter of Gathers Acorns and Of the Night, whom we all well regard and remember. Oh, daughter of our tribe, Welcome, She with the Eyes of the Cat! Please, take this seat of honor and introduce us to your friends!” Gentle Talons, their leader, gestured grandly toward a beautifully made blanket. Cat Eyes nodded and began to walk over to her place. 

Trunk of Tree, who had remained silent during their walk into the village now seemed to find his voice. “I am Trunk of Tree and the leader of our small group.” He began to walk toward the place where Cat Eyes was about to sit. Fleet of Foot, put a strong hand on the shoulder of Trunk of Tree and said, “Not now. It will be more powerful if she introduces you.” After noting the hesitation in Trunk of Tree, he added, “Just as their leader was not the first but the last to arrive. See?”

Trunk of Tree relented. Cat Eyes, sat down gracefully and gestured to her companions. How on earth should she — could she — tell this tale? Everyone was looking at her and I don’t know what to say. The image of Many Paths flashed into her mind and she decided she would pretend to be Many Paths — or her own version of Many Paths. “Come friends, and sit near me. We have many tales to tell each other. But I will begin with the basics. First, I am overwhelmed with happiness to be here and I am overwhelmed with grief to hear that Mom and Dad disappeared. I remember much about this place, but the brown cliffs have changed much, I see. Let me introduce my friends and traveling companions. I have not known any of them very long, but we have become good friends and I can vouch for them all. 

“This strong man has been the leader of our expedition. You may easily guess why he has that name.” She smiled. She looked at the people. Everyone could see that she spoke the truth from her own heart. “This man on the other side is known as ‘Fleet of Foot’ and, as you might expect, he is a very fast runner. But he is also a fast thinker, and quite diplomatic. She smiled at him and then at the crowd. “That man Jaccim is our expert on horses. The Veritas have adopted him. He saved my life at least twice and possibly more. He is still learning our language. He knows of, and led us here via, a tunnel passage that does not require crossing the treacherous ice mountain. 

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Photo by Gareth Davies on Pexels.com

“The man next to him is visiting the Veritas. They call him Lion Slayer because, indeed, he actually did slay a lion single-handedly. He, and his wife, Salah Hudah, are from the Great Tribe of Southern Nomads. They aided us in a great war which, I have no doubt, you will be interested to learn more about at another time. Lastly, there is me. I was born here. And, I lived here for a time. I was stolen away and taken somewhere that I now know to be a village of the Z-Lotz. And, my name is Cat Eyes.” She paused, winked and added, “Though I have no idea why I bear that odd name.” 

The crowd chuckled appreciatively. When that died down, Cat Eyes continued. 

“There are many fine stories to share and we hope to do just that. We brought, Trunk of Tree, tell to our brothers beyond the twin peaks what we have brought.”

Trunk of Tree shook his head. He frowned for a moment and then remembered that they had brought gifts. “Yes. Yes! We have brought you some … gifts. They are …” In a panic, he suddenly realized that he didn’t know, but Fleet of Foot had been carrying the bag of gifts and handed the cinnamon to Trunk of Tree. “Cinnamon. This smells very nice in cooking. And, we brought … “ Trunk of Tree took the next gift. He studied it for a moment and then stared at Fleet of Foot. “Fleet of Foot, can you tell what these pretty stones are?”

Fleet of Foot took one of the slices of mica and turned it this way and that so that people in the crowd could judge its shininess. “This is mica and we are still learning about it. But if you take a very thin slice you can see right through this rock and yet it is still rock. It keeps out the wind and the bugs from one side to the other. It is sharp but not much use for a weapon. Although…” Fleet of Foot paused for just a split second, unsure whether to let people in on the unique weapons they were preparing. “Who knows? It might be useful to make a bridge that looks strong but would break when stepped on, for instance.” 

Someone asked, “How did you discover mica?” 

woman standing inside cave

Photo by Josh Hild on Pexels.com

Trunk of Tree looked panicked for a moment. He had no idea. But Cat Eyes, spoke up instead. “That is an excellent question. And, when everyone tells our story, you will find that answered. We must hear the story from end to end. And there are more gifts, but I must tell you some critical things first.” 

“The first one, and perhaps obvious is that there is another path. You are no longer confined to these mountainsides. It might be that a few of you would venture back to meet your cousins near the forgotten field of flowers.” She paused, waiting for the murmuring to subside. 

“Second, the Z-Lotz have things that we never dreamed of. They have devised a ‘Killing Stick’ which kills a person without touching them. They point the ‘Killing Stick” at their victim and there is a loud noise and a bright flash and the victim begins to bleed profusely.”

This time the murmuring did not die down until Gentle Talon’s booming voice echoed off the walls. “Let her finish!” 

Cat Eyes sighed. She took a deep breath. “And last, perhaps most importantly of all, the Z-Lotz have a way to … they think something and say it. But when they say it, or perhaps only think it, they make a mark on a piece of thin beech bark. Then, later, someone else can come and look at that mark and imagine what was said. They can hear it softly whispered even though no mouth is nearby.” 

This time, the crowd did not react with murmuring. There was dead silence. She reached into the bag of gifts and pulled out the small bit of bark with odd marks and thrust it in the air. “This is what it looks like. The marks are from sign language. But they are only the first sound of that word. I know it’s difficult to understand, but … “

Another voice rang out. “I told you! I told you! “ 

Now, the murmuring began and swelled as people who understood this concept of the written word and began to successfully explain it to their friends. 

The voice of Gentle Talons boomed out again. “As foretold! She is the one! She brings light to the tunnel of ignorance! Welcome home, O lost child!” 

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Cat Eyes shook her head. What are they talking about, she wondered. There was a children’s story about a lost child who came back to lead her … people … through a long tunnel into the light. Great Bear in the Sky!! That’s just a legend. Do they think I am a prophesy? A leader? A Goddess?

Cat Eyes tried to make her voice heard above the din. “Wait! Wait! I am not a leader or a prophesy. I am just me. I am just … one of you who was stolen but was lucky enough to return.” 

Gentle Talons bellowed, “Did you not come through a tunnel of darkness into the light to arrive here?” 

Cat Eyes said, “Yes. But so did they.” She gestured to remind people of her companions. 

Gentle Talons continued, “But you are the only one who left and then returned!”

Cat Eyes nodded. “True. But I have no idea what ignorance you are talking about.” 

Gentle Talons looked lovingly at Cat Eyes and said gently, yet loud enough for everyone to hear, “Is it not obvious, my child? You have brought us the light of knowledge! Once we began excavating the cliffs, we found many tunnels of darkness lined with row after row of strange boxes filled with such leaves as you’ve shown us. All are marked with these same strange markings. But until now, we have never had the light to enable us to understand a single mark. And now we do. You have brought us that light of understanding! Welcome, oh, child of light! Welcome home!” 

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Cat Eyes took a deep breath to try to calm herself. She felt so many conflicting emotions that she felt for a moment that she would be overwhelmed, not knowing which was her true feeling. And, suddenly, it occurred to her that her feelings were all real. It was not a contest or a race. It was a rainbow to embrace. Her grief about her parents not being here in no way meant she couldn’t feel nervous about what was expected of her or her pride of having spoken well. Nor did the red of the rainbow mean that the green did not exist. In fact, each color made the other colors that much more beautiful. Sometimes I glance at the red and sometimes I glance at the blue or the green. Sometimes the earth sleeps beneath a blanket of snow. And, sometimes it bakes in the hot summer sun. My own feelings change, more slowly than my eyes can dart from color to color, but much more quickly than the seasons turn. And, that is just natural; that is just nature. 

Of course, Cat Eyes saw all this in a more visual way; images superimposing themselves upon each other until a balance was reached — an acceptance of a balance between being in control of and responsible for one’s actions — while at the same time feeling the ever-changing flow of one’s heart and just accepting that all of it is nature. All of it is just natural. It was okay for her to feel that she wanted nothing so much as to go back to the Veritas she knew and spend the rest of her days there and also to feel that she never wanted to leave this place ever again. It was even more beautiful than she had remembered it. And, she did know enough about decoding the marks that she could lead them to understand what those many boxes of marks meant. It is okay to feel these things. But in the end, my body can only be in one place at a time. It had better be where I want the heart of my hearts to be.

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Cat Eyes smiled and asked gently, “Do you suppose I could share some of your spicebush tea? You might like to try it with some cinnamon.” Cat Eyes felt something shift inside her. She was home and being home and knowing it was all real somehow healed something deep inside her. She was alive. She had survived so much. She realized that she would now be — and always had been — home no matter where her body stood. Someone thrust a warm mug of spicebush tea into her hands. She inhaled both the fragrant spicebush from her childhood and the exotic and novel cinnamon as well. She was home. Home. And — better — she realized that she always would be.

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Author Page on Amazon

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

 

 

Horizons University

25 Monday Sep 2017

Posted by petersironwood in America, family, management, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

creativity, education, problem finding, problem formulation, problem solving

 

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Different people’s brains seem to me to be predisposed to pay attention to different kinds of stimulation. My musically inclined wife, for instance, is much more attuned to sounds of all types than I am. This makes it easier for her to identify music from just a few bars, but also makes her much more annoyed by stray sounds that I typically ignore. For example, when commercials come on the TV, she is very keen to “mute” the TV whereas I simply mute them in my mind (or at least I think I do). So, when she told me that I “had to” fix our doorbell right away, at first I had no idea what she was talking about.

“That beep!” she insisted. “Can’t you hear it? That doorbell is driving me crazy!”

After calling my attention to it, I also heard the beep. The doorbell was not something that we had installed. It came with our condo and up till now had been working just fine. Now, it appeared to be hell-bent on incessantly going “Beep! Beep!” Admittedly, it was annoying. Not so annoying as a failing smoke alarm. At least this was going off in the middle of the day whereas failing smoke alarms are not only much louder but scientifically designed to go off at around 3-4 am in the morning. I suppose on rare occasions, they do go off at other times, but I’ve never experienced that personally. Best of all, smoke alarms have directions printed right on the alarm in tiny white on white font. Seriously? You couldn’t afford to pay for .0001 cents of paint to make it legible? But enough of badly designed smoke alarms.

Let’s return to my wife’s request to fix our doorbell. I got out the toolbox and easily removed the screws over the housing. Inside were minor electronics connected with three wires to the house electricity. There did not seem to be a dying battery at fault. I had no idea, and could not decipher which wire would turn off the alarm. So, careful to touch only the insulated rubber guards on the wire snippers, I cut one of the wires. In response, I heard, “BEEP! BEEP!” Well, that didn’t do the trick. I cut another wire. “BEEP! BEEP!” Damn. Okay. I will have to cut the third wire. No battery. No electrical current from the house. Goodbye annoying beep. I cut the third wire. “BEEP! BEEP!”

What? Unlike my Dad, I was never trained as an electrical engineer, but I do know that a completely open circuit without power can’t keep “working.” At least not for long. A capacitor can hold a charge. In old time TV’s you had to be very careful. You couldn’t simply unplug the TV and start working on it right away. The large TV “picture tube” for instance, held a considerable charge until you grounded it against the chassis with a screwdriver. But there’s no way the doorbell could still be making noise.

Eventually, we discovered that there was nothing at all wrong with our doorbell. Well, to be more accurate, there had been nothing wrong until I cut every single wire. The noise source was something else entirely. Years earlier, we had attended a Dave Pelz golf academy focused on “the short game” and had been given a very cheap electronic metronome to help us learn a smooth rhythm on the putting stroke. We hadn’t ever used it for that purpose and had forgotten we even owned it.

But that’s what our lovely, lively cats are for! The cats had managed to turn on the metronome and then carefully and meticulously slide it down into the small slice of space between our piano sounding board and the wall that separated the kitchen from the dining room. Voila! A nice loud “BEEP! BEEP!” sound.

Looking back on the incident, I can’t quite reconstruct why we thought this was a doorbell. It didn’t actually sound like our doorbell. Well, nothing actually sounded like our doorbell because now it didn’t make any sound at all. I had cut all the wires that would enable it to work. But it didn’t even sound like our doorbell used to sound. Somehow, we had gotten sucked into a particular framing and formation of the problem. That specific way of approaching the problem led us down a “garden path” that not only had no possible chance of solving the real problem; it also had negative (and unnecessary) side-effects such as ruining our doorbell. Sadly, even two supposedly “well-educated” people found it all too easy to go down that “garden path.” This brings me to “Horizon University.”

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Articles that claim to calculate the “best” University for you to attend have grown up like ragweed in the last few years. What irks me about such articles is not that they rank order university programs according to the average “Return on Investment” of graduates, but that they don’t even seem to acknowledge that this is only one of many criteria by which such programs could be ranked. They too, have gone down a very particular garden path when it comes to defining the “goodness” of education.

Instead of an undergraduate program that is essentially a high level trade school aimed exclusively at getting you the highest paying job, let’s imagine a University with a different focus.

Consider a University where students focus on seeing things in different time perspectives.

Maybe it doesn’t need to be an entire university; perhaps a department or a course. But somewhere along the line, it seems absolutely critical to me that people receive more training in taking a flexible view, a broad view, a long or short view, a loving view, a defensive view. In my experience, people often have one particular way of approaching a particular type of problem. In extreme cases, people approach every problem the same way. Sometimes that one way works extremely well. More often, it works pretty well. Sometimes, it is more of a hindrance than a help. And then, every once in awhile, it results in an unmitigated disaster. And, that’s true for everyone on the planet so long as you stick to one approach for every single problem.

At “Horizon University” you would not take a calculus class or a psychology class or a creative writing class. Why? Because it is all too tempting — indeed probably necessary in order to pass any such course — to use your knowledge of that particular course, using the methods of that particular course. You do not answer a calculus question with an insightful essay on the probable family dynamics of Pascal’s family; not if you want to pass.

In real life, a particular problem might require only calculus, or only creative writing or only psychology. More likely it will require some combination of these and many other skills. It will most likely be solved, not by you alone, but by you in combination with a team diverse in almost every dimension imaginable.

At Horizon University, people would be guided in every aspect of problem solving which includes the extremely important and seldom taught skills of problem finding and problem formulation. These are the hardest parts; they are the least taught parts; indeed, they are the least understood parts of the overall problem solving process.

Let’s take an example puzzle: “There are 435 people in the US House of Representatives. What is the probability that at least two Representatives share a birthday?” I have given this problem to a number of people. After a few moments thought, most smart 10 year olds can solve it. Adults have more trouble. Adults who have taken a college course in statistics however, typically have the most trouble of all. When such an adult hears this problem, they are immediately reminded of the so-called “Birthday Problem.” Counter-intuitively, it turns out that even a small group of 30 people is more likely to have at least one shared birthday than not. A ten year old is unlikely to have heard of this problem, so they think about the 435 people in the House of Representatives for awhile and come up with the correct answer. A statistics-trained adult however, is likely to say something along the following lines, repeated more or less verbatim from someone attending at a party organized by my office mate at the University of Michigan.

“Ahem! Well, this is the famous ‘Birthday Problem’ and, having just received my Ph.D. in statistics, it would be fairly trivial for me to answer this if only I had access to some logarithm tables. (This was long before hand-held internet access). I had happened to notice that my office mate had log tables so I escorted this guy to them and said, “There you go! Knock yourself out!” I went off to enjoy the party while he spent the next few hours muttering in a corner trying to make good on his boast. I checked up on him later, but he still insisted he had almost solved it.

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His insistence that he knew enough to solve the problem and his persistence in tackling it with the same method over and over is one of the things that scares me about the coming ubiquity in “Artificial Intelligence” especially as it intersects with the “Internet of Things”, “Driverless Cars”, and “Intelligent Agents.” It isn’t so much that people won’t make perfect AI systems for a long time. It’s that people will make imperfect AI systems and insist that they are perfect. In other words, hubris is one of the human failings that can be greatly amplified by Artificial Intelligence.

We see this kind of hubris is all sorts of software systems; indeed, it isn’t even limited to software systems although the absurdly short development cycles of software tend to make it more evident there. For example, Microsoft’s Windows 7 had over 2000 bugs.

http://www.dailytech.com/Microsoft+Says+It+Has+Fixes+for+2000+Windows+7+Bugs+Thanks+to+Testers/article14426.htm

Bugs, of course, are not limited to Microsoft products. Here’s a list of recent bugs in the MAC OS.

https://eclecticlight.co/2017/07/21/known-bugs-in-macos-sierra-10-12-6-an-incomplete-summary/

“Bug” is a general term, of course, and there are many varieties. One of the “minor” kinds of bugs are usability bugs. For instance, I recently signed up for an alumni site. They asked users like me to enter the name of the University of my advanced degree. Instead of allowing me to type in the University, however, I had to use a pull-down list. This alphabetical list had over 2000 entries. But where is “The University of Michigan” to be found in an alphabetical list? Looking at the names of other universities showed no consistency whatever. It might be under “T” for “The University of Michigan.” It might be under “U” for “University of Michigan” which might be abbreviated as “U” or “Univ.” and it might be listed under “M” for “Michigan.” It wasn’t under any of these. So far as I could tell, The University of Michigan, one of the top-ranked universities in America with a current enrollment over 44 thousand wasn’t listed at all. You could call the omission of this particular university a “bug” but the more fundamental bug is why they are using a pull-down list to have users select among thousands of items. No-one thought through the fact that new universities arise; they merge; they fold. In addition, there is no obvious single way for them to be listed. But all of these errors in design thinking pale in comparison to the one that prevents the user from simply typing in the name of their university. Not only have the designers and coders of this software omitted an important option; not only have they chosen an inefficient way to enter the data; beyond that, they are so cock-sure of themselves that they have not even provided an alternative input method.

You might argue that subsequent data analysis will be easier if everyone chooses from among a fixed and finite list than it would be if people could type in whatever they wanted. True, but if that’s really the argument, then you are saying that your time and convenience are more important than those of your users. That’s too gigantic an error to be labeled a “bug.” It’s much more fundamental.

If you think I’m exaggerating the scope of software bugs, you might want to check on the Wikipedia entry of known and severe bugs in a number of different fields of human endeavor.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_software_bugs 

If Horizon University does a good job, its graduates will likely produce fewer bugs, but more importantly, they will be willing to admit the possibility that their code is buggy. Of course, bad design is not limited to software. Shelves of every store abound with poorly packaged items encased in nearly impenetrable plastic. Many roads are equipped with road signs that cannot be read at night. Processes are designed without feedback on whether they work. The crucial point here is not that humans make mistakes; obviously, they do. The problem is thinking that because you’ve learned a particular method or way of thinking that method is also capable of solving all problems; that your way of thinking is the only way there is.

Let’s return to the poor guy who spent the entire party at the University of Michigan pouring over my office mate’s log tables. He was not so much unable to apply the methods he had learned; it is just that the methods he was attempting to apply were not applicable in this case. There are only 365 days in a year (or 366 if you count leap years). But there are 435 people in the House of Representatives. So, even if the first 366 people you looked at happened to have different birthdays, the 367th would have to match someone.

At Horizon University, students would be taught a variety of methods for each part of the problem solving process. These methods would not be taught in a series of lectures. Rather, from the beginning, students would begin working on individual and group projects of their own defining. They would have access to a variety of experts including many generalists on site as well as remote experts available at varying time scales. They would hear from and see in action a wide variety of ways of attacking each problem. They would learn to respect other ways of looking at problems, not just the one or few that they themselves chose to focus on.

Everything in life is not about solving problems however. It is also important to discover and learn about the things that give you the most joy. For some people all of those things will be closely related to problem solving. But for others, many or even all of those joy-inducing activities will not really be about problem solving. They may want to hone their skills in writing, painting, music, choreography, and so on. Perhaps they will earn enough money to get by without another job and maybe they won’t. A few will find a way to use those skills as part of a collaborative problem solving endeavor. Others may find teaching their skills to others is a good way to keep their own skills sharp for their creative work.

At Horizon University, various activities and architectural features would encourage people to communicate and interact with people across the entire variety of interests. In the short term, this would be beneficial to the individual because all their project work would require a broad range of talents. Of course, in the longer term, the benefit would be understanding the value of all kinds of knowledge and skill rather than just the one that they happened to choose to study.

The idea of project-based learning is not a new one. Indeed, it is far older and more ubiquitous than the invention of subject matter based courses or classes. In the USA, we often have historically tried to balance a public education that makes for “well-rounded citizens” with an education that helps ready people to “earn a living.” More recently, we seem to be focused only on the latter goal. In addition, we now seem to believe it is okay for people to go into great debt in order to secure an education. Putting resources into educating the next generation however, is not something meant to benefit only that next generation, but all generations to come.

Rest assured, it is not only Ph.D.’s in statistics that have challenges addressing problems in multiple ways. As Norton Juster in The Phantom Tollbooth suggests, many of us are prone to “jumping to conclusions.”

Precisely because we humans have such an exciting and completely new set of opportunities, challenges and dangers facing us now, it is more vital than ever to be flexible in our approach to problems. Under pressure, people are prone to fixate on the first approach even more than they usually are. How can we possibly believe this is a good time to cut back on public education? We need a citizenry who are not only knowledgeable but versed in a variety of ways to problem solve. It certainly won’t be enough to know what answers others have given to problems in the past. Why? Because they will be facing literally unheard of conditions. We need to let them at least jump to a different set of conclusions than the previous generation. Hopefully, they’ll do even better than that and not jump to conclusions at all. Rather they will work in cooperative groups to solve complex novel problems using the skills and confidence that were built at Horizons U.


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Seeing Seeing Double Double

03 Saturday Dec 2016

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

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education, perception, radiation, religion, science

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

As I recall, a bunch of us first-graders were waiting for to take our turns in some kind of race. While we waited on the edge of the playground to be called, I looked at and then through the hurricane fence in front of us. I discovered that I could look through the fence and see another fence. This second fence was gigantic and far away. Yet, it was also quite close! Indeed, it seemed as though this was no ordinary fence, but a magic fence that I could place where I liked just by changing something in my head. I know I tried to share this information about the magic fence with the other kids waiting with me but I failed to get them to see the magic fence. I didn’t have long. It was my turn to race.

And race I did — but rather badly. I was amazed to discover that I was not the fastest kid in first grade. It had always seemed to me that I ran extremely fast!  That’s how I felt inside. But many kids in my class ran faster than I did. Even many girls ran faster than I did which seemed at the time absolutely impossible. How could I feel so fast running and yet be slower than so many other kids? Even the fattest kid in the class ran faster!

Later in first grade, upon returning from ten days at the hospital, my parents bought me bunk beds and the bunk beds were covered with a green bedspread which had a repeating pattern of identical and quite stylized white flowers. I could lay on the bedspread, look at the pattern and then look through the bedspread to another larger bedspread father away. In fact, I could find several bedspreads at various distances. I experimented by getting closer or father away from the bedspread and by fooling with my eyes. I did not understand exactly what was happening, but one thing was clear. The world that I had thought was “out there” proved very changeable under my own actions and volitions. I could “change” the world out there — or at least how it appeared — by what I did in my own head.

My grandmother supervised the Sunday School at the Methodist church my family attended. Sunday School proved fairly neat. For instance, I memorized the most verses from the Bible and as a result, won a glow-in-the-dark cross. I was supposed to look at this at night and derive comfort from it. I don’t recall that working but what I did discover, which was really cool was this: if I put my eye right up to that cross in total darkness, I could see tiny flashes of light. The cross, like so many “glow in the dark” items back then included both phosphorescent paint and radium laced paint. Same with my “glow in the dark” watch. When the lights first went out, these items would glow quite brightly from the phosphorescence. But even hours later, when that effect had completely vanished, there was still a faint glow from the radium paint. When placed directly on the eye, however, there was an effect like looking at a blurry bout of heat lightening.

Our Sunday School teacher told us that when we prayed, we went to heaven! That certainly seemed kind of cool. I wasn’t exactly sure what heaven was like, but in at least some of the pictures, there were some beautiful angels and it would certainly be fun to meet them. So, I decided to test out our Sunday School’s promise. I would sit in the pews, close my eyes, and pray just as sincerely as I possibly could. When I was praying up a storm, I would suddenly snap my eyes open! And there I was! In Sunday School. I hadn’t even moved to a different seat. No clouds. No heaven. And worst of all, no angels. I would try it again. Same result. I wondered whether opening my eyes could somehow instantly bring me back from heaven to Akron, Ohio. That seemed unlikely. But I tried a few experiments where I would pray hard and then not open my eyes, but just notice whether I still felt the hard wooden pew, and smell the same musty curtain smell and hear the same kids breathing and fidgeting around me. Well, in case you are wondering, it didn’t matter which sense or senses I used, I never got the slightest hint that I had gone to heaven. It not only didn’t look like heaven; it didn’t sound like it, smell like it or feel like it either. This was disappointing because one of the angels pictured in my “Red Letter Testament” Bible Study book looked out of that book right at me! Her beautiful eyes seemed to invite me to join her in heaven. But how? I don’t think I had quite figured out that this was an “artist’s conception” of what a beautiful angel might look like (e.g., a girl and just my age!). No, I knew she was there and I wanted to meet her.

About this time, I began to notice that my grandfather never joined us at Church. This seemed odd. At last I asked about it and he said he didn’t go because he didn’t believe in God! What? This seemed pretty inconceivable to me because everyone else around me kept talking about God as though He were real and definite. The way people talked gave not the slightest hint that God was something only some people believed in. God was portrayed as definitely there. There were paintings of God, for instance. Some of the illustrations in my books looked almost photographic in their realism. It made no sense that people would treat God as real if He were not.

My next door neighbor on Johnson Street played all sorts of games with me. I don’t recall her name; she was cute though occasionally mean. She liked to tie up people or put tape over their moths. But I really didn’t have that many choices of people to play with. One day, on the way to Sunday School, my parents and I ran into her and her parents. We were all dressed, as they say, in our “Sunday finest.” So, I did the polite thing and greeted her warmly, “Hello, little S*** A**.” All at once everyone’s faces including the little girl’s exploded into horrified expressions. I just used one of the main greetings that she used. I had no idea what the phrase meant or even the individual words. Later, after I was punished, I still persisted to try to find out how these words could possibly have so much power. My parents couldn’t even bring themselves to tell me. My mother delegated this task to my grandfather. Perhaps looking back on it, his being an atheist meant he could say words like this or at least explain them.

He took me with him into the landing area in the stairway to the basement. Grandpa’s house had some of the coolest features including a “Root Cellar”, a “Coal Cellar” and a “Disappearing Stairway.” In addition, Grandpa had a rock garden, a vegetable garden, a staircase and the house had three doors. There was a front door into a small entry off the living room. The back door went directly into the kitchen from a passageway near the garage. And, there was a third door that led off the basement stairs onto the patio near the apple tree that my mom had planted as a kid. My grandfather kept that door locked and no-one was allowed to use it. And that seemed a shame because our house only had two doors. It seemed to me, if you had a house with three doors, you would want to use all three! Anyway, it was near that door as he was emptying some trash that he explained what those magic words referred to.

He did not explain why they were powerful. He did not explain why my companion acted shocked when I used the words when I had learned them from her and she often referred to me and other playmates with this phrase. He did not explain why everyone had been upset. Once he explained what it referred to, I could kind of understand why she might not want to be called that although that was what she called everyone else. But why had her parents been so upset and why had my parents been so upset? It was one of those “explanations” that only explained the surface of a complex tangle of issues.

With a longer perspective, I can say that most so-called explanations are like that. They tell you  why someone picked a particular color to paint their car. They don’t explain how cars work or why we have so many cars in this country and such limited public transportation. When it comes to religion, most explanations seem very much about the color of the paint. It’s very hard to dig beneath that to find out how people really relate to their religion. And, this too always struck me as odd, especially for people who claim that their religion is a central part of who they are. Perhaps, it is not so much that people are unwilling to explain how religion works for them as they are unable to explain it.

After all, I was able to alter my perception of the hurricane fence and the repeating pattern bedspread long before I understood how I was doing it. In fact, I never found anyone else who either could or wanted to use this technique until much much later. In college, I read a book (I think by John Dewey but I’m not sure) and discovered that this author had also learned this same trick at an early age. Indeed, I still find it a useful skill many years later. For example, if I am sitting somewhere across from people at a table, I can “merge” the images of their heads to make a composite image. That’s kind of fun. In grad school, before “COMP” functions, I found it useful to compare hexadecimal disk dumps by putting them side to side and crossing my eyes until the two dumps overlapped character by character. Anything that changed from one disk dump to another popped out instantly. While I thought it might be a useful skill for others and explained how to do it when asked, I never felt the slightest urge to make everyone learn this skill. I never claimed it was the only way to look at the world or even the best way to look at the world.

I never seemed to get into an argument with people about forming clear double images. If I decided to see two apples — one image with each eye — instead of converging my views to see one image, it never seemed much of a big deal to me or to anyone else. If I said, “It looks to me right now like there are two apples” and someone said, “Yes, but there is really only one” then I would just say, “Yeah, I know. But it’s kind of fun to see double sometimes.” If they didn’t feel like doing that, why would that bother me?

Of course, one could argue that seeing double is just a private exercise but that religion comes into play when it comes to cooperative endeavors. For example, in a complex society like ours, there are laws, rules, customs, taxes, and all sorts of systems that require cooperation. If there are going to be taxes, there have to be some rules about the taxes. If some people believe that cigarettes and booze are “evil”, then they might argue to tax these things more heavily than say, a health club membership. This makes a certain amount of sense in the abstract, but specifically, it does not seem to explain much. For example, though America has never been nor is it a “Christian” nation in the sense of a state sponsored religion, 70% of the population identify themselves as “Christian.”  Although I have forgotten the many Bible verses that won me my radium painted glow in the dark cross, I still know that a main message of the New Testament is to love your neighbor as yourself; to turn the other cheek; to do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Yet, the United States has more billionaires than any other country. And the highest incarceration rate. Odd. Meanwhile, China purports to be a “Communist” country and one of the main tenets of Communism is “from each according to their abilities and to each according to their needs.” And China has the second highest number of billionaires. So, in the very places where coordination is necessary, there is a huge disconnect between what people claim are central principles guiding their lives and what they actually chose to do.

The mystery behind seeing double clearly is basically this. Our eyes adapt as we look at something near or far. When we look at something far away, our eyes are pointed at infinity. At the same time, we allow our lens to “thin” and the eyes are also focused at infinity. (There isn’t much difference in either of these beyond forty feet. When I look out my office window at the ocean, I can tell the ocean is father away than the palm trees because of other cues such as interposition (the palm trees partly obscure my view of the ocean so they are closer than the ocean) and aerial perspective (the ocean is slightly “fuzzier” than the palm trees because there is more distortion due to the air). If we look at something close, normally our eyes converge (point inward slightly toward the object) and we focus at the same time; that is, we make the lens thicker. However, it is possible to “train” oneself to separate these two actions. For example, I can converge (“cross”)  my eyes to look at my nose but accommodate (to the extent I still can) to distance so that objects in the distance look “sharp” — it’s just that there are two of them. Even though I am capable of seeing double, I don’t walk around seeing double all the time. It would be very impractical and inconvenient.

So, perhaps religion is like that for some people. Looking at things from a “Christian” perspective is, for some, something one learns to do at church, but it is too inconvenient or too impractical to keep doing it when it comes to actually interacting with other people. When you meet someone dressed in their “Sunday Finest” and they call you a S*** A**, you act really offended and shocked. But that doesn’t mean you can’t call them that the other six days of the week. And, if you own a factory where you hire young girls to paint the dials on glow in the dark watches, you encourage them to use their tongue and lips to repoint the little camel hair brushes that they use. And after a few years, they may not look much like angels any more. But you can still deny that your radioactive paint had anything to do with it. Because, apparently, although Jesus may have said, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” that has nothing to do with killing actual human beings in order to maximize profit. After all, “Business is business” trumps the Golden Rule. If you’re having trouble understanding that, maybe it will help if you learn to cross your eyes. Don’t learn to see too clearly though. No, we wouldn’t want that.

——————————————————————————

Radium Girls (in Wikipedia)

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Ban Open Loops: Part Two – Sports

14 Friday Aug 2015

Posted by petersironwood in management, psychology, sports

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AI, cognitive computing, Customer experience, customer service, education, learning

Sports and open loops.

Sports offers a joy that many jobs and occupations do not. A golfer putts the ball and it sinks into the cup — or not. A basket-baller springs up for a three pointer and —- swish — within seconds, the shooter knows whether he or she was successful. A baseball hitter slashes the bat through the air and send the ball over the fence —- or hears the ball smack into the catcher’s mitt behind. What sports offers then is the opportunity to find out results quickly and hence offers an excellent opportunity for learning. In the previousiPhoneDownloadJan152013 593 entry in this blog, I gave examples of situations in life which should include feedback loops for learning, but, alas, do not. I called those open loops.

Sports seem to be designed for closed loop learning. They seem to be. Yet, reality complicates matters even here. There are three main reasons why what appears to be obvious opportunities for learning in sports is not so obvious after all. Attributional complexity provides the first complication. If you miss a putt to the left, it is obvious that you have missed the putt to the left. But why you missed that putt left and what to do about it are not necessarily obvious at all. You might have aimed left. You might not have noticed how much the green sloped left (or over read the slant to the right). You may not have noticed the grain. You might not have hit the ball in the center of the putter. You might not have swung straight through your target. So, while putting provides nice unambiguous feedback about results, it does not diagnose your problem or tell you how to fix it. To continue with the golf example, you might be kicking yourself for missing half of your six foot putts and therefore three-putting many greens. Guess what? The pros on tour miss half of their six foot putts too! But they do not often three-putt greens. You might be able to improve your putting, but your underlying problems may be that your approach shots leave you too far from the pin and that your lag putts leave you too far from the hole. You should be within three feet of the hole, not six feet, when you hit your second putt.

A second issue with learning in sports is that changes tend to cascade. A change in one area tends to produce other changes in other areas. Your tennis instructor tells you that you are need to play more aggressively and charge the net after your serve. You try this, but find that you miss many volleys, especially those from mid-court. So, you spend a lot of time practicing volleys. Eventually, your volleys do improve. Then, they improve still more. But you find that, despite this, you are losing the majority of your service games whereas you used to win most of them. You decide to revert to your old style of hanging out at the baseline and only approaching the net when the opponent lands the ball short. Unfortunately, while you were spending all that time practicing volleys, you were not practicing your ground strokes. Now, what used to work for you, no longer works very well. This isn’t the fault of your instructor; nor is it your fault. It is just that changing one thing has ripple effects that cannot always be anticipated.

The third and most insidious reason why change is difficult in sports springs from the first two. Because it is hard to know how to change and every change has side-effects, many people fail to learn from their experience at all. There is opportunity for learning at every turn, but they turn a blind eye to it. They make the same mistakes over and over as though sports did not offer instant feedback. I think you will agree that this is really a very close cousin of what people in business do when they refuse to institute systems for gathering and analyzing useful feedback.

If learning is tricky —- and it is —- is there anything for it? Yes. There is. There is no way to make learning in sports —- or in business —- trivial. But there are steps you can take to enhance your learning process. First, be open-minded. Do not shut down and imagine that you are already playing your sport as well as can be expected for a forty year old, or a fifty year old, or someone slightly overweight or someone with a bad ankle. Take an experimental approach and don’t be afraid to try new things. Second, forget ego. Making mistakes are opportunities to learn, not proof that you are no good. Third, get professional help. A good coach can help you understand attributional complexity and they can help you anticipate the side-effects of making a change.

Soon, I suspect that the shrinking size and cost and weight of computational and sensing devices will mean that training aids will help people with attributional complexity. I see big data analytics and modeling helping people foresee what the ramifications of changes are likely to be. There are already useful mechanical training aids for various sports. For example, the trade-marked Medicus club enables golfers to get immediate feedback during their full swings.as to whether they are jerking the club. Dave Pelz developed a number of useful devices for helping people understand how they may be messing up their putting stroke.

It may take somewhat longer before there are small tracking devices that help you with your mental attitude and approach. We are still a long way from understanding how the human brain works in detail. But it is completely within the realm of possibility to sense and discover your optimal level of stress. If you are too stressed, you could be prompted to relax through self-talk, breathing exercises, visualization, etc. You do not need technology for that, but it could help. You may already notice that some of the top tennis players seem to turn their backs from play for a moment and talk to an “invisible friend” when they need to calm down. And why not? Nowhere is it law that only kids are allowed to have invisible friends.

“The mental game” and which kinds of adaptations to make over what time scales are dealt with in more detail in The Winning Weekend Warrior How to Succeed at Golf, Tennis, Baseball, Football, Basketball, Hockey, Volleyball, Business, Life, Etc. available at Amazon Kindle.

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