These Paradigms Won't Shift Themselves...

A.S. I've been 'reading' a book that I'm planning to write up a book club about, but I felt that I first needed to rant about a more general aspect of science writing as a preamble to discussing the book itself.

It's somewhat unfortunate that Thomas Khun has become the patron saint of quackery - at least that's the way that I feel given how often he's brought up by purveyors of non-science. I've read Khun's The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (1962) and found it to be quite interesting, if a tad simplistic. Its classic contribution to the philosophy of science is its argument that science doesn't progress only by the accumulation of facts that build upon existing theories, but rather more importantly, by the accumulation of facts that cannot be squared with current theories. Eventually, the weight of these unresolvable observations 'breaks' the discipline requiring a qualitatively different approach to explaining the data: a completely different set of theories, a.k.a. a new 'paradigm'.

This model works rather well in explicating the context and subsequent effects of landmark historical discoveries (relativity, evolution by natural selection, etc.1), however, it has been criticized in its ability to explain the sorts of 'revolutions' happening in modern science. The argument goes like this: Modern science is a much more well-funded and institutionalized pursuit than it was during these classical revolutions. New 'discoveries' are being made rather frequently and so, when it comes to most sciences, hypotheses are being tested, refuted, and reassessed on much smaller scales than previously. Furthermore, the number of independent observations supporting many fundamental hypotheses is much, much larger than in the past. All of this suggests that we're unlikely to see many 'paradigm shifts' on the level of the classical Khunian examples any time soon, at least for most sciences2.

Unfortunately for the quacks, a new hypothesis - the efficacy of homeopathy, for instance - must incorporate existing observations. And yet so many do not. I think that this is why many of us get frustrated when non-scientists, especially science writers, call for some form of 'middle ground' between practitioners of woo and mainstream science. 'But this or that anecdotal evidence suggests that there might be something to this,' they say. It's a Kuhnian revolution in the making... ungh.

Sadly for the overly brash, science necessitates conservatism. Working within a theoretical framework that may be incomplete, but is solid and works for most circumstances (such as Newtonian gravity), is certainly preferable to overindulging in research under frameworks that have little to no support to begin with. As with many things, ideas are important, but relatively cheap in comparison to being able to come up with methods through which to test them (the challenge of experimental design). Conservatism, as a reviewer of a manuscript once pointed out, also means that novel hypotheses that explain existing observations as well as existing hypotheses are insufficient. They must do better than existing hypotheses - that is to say that they must explain facts that are not explained by those hypotheses in current vogue.

There's a time commitment to science, and testing every random idea out there isn't necessarily an efficient way to make progress... unless you're the NCCAM? 

1The 'Copernican Revolution' is often cited among these, but I don't understand its relevance. As is discussed in detail in Owen Gingerich's The Book That Nobody Read, Ptolemaic epicycles and Copernical heliocentrism were equivalent models for explaining the available data and both made testable predictions about the position of planets (see here). In the absence of other theories that would have cinched the debate (e.g., gravity), the only real difference between the two theories was that Copernicus' made some of the calculations easier, which is why a preface was added to his book, De Revolutionibus Orbium Coelestium, which contained the following:

...it is the duty of an astronomer to compose the history of the celestial motions through careful and expert study. Then he must conceive and devise the causes of these motions or hypotheses about them. Since he cannot in any way attain to the true causes, he will adopt whatever suppositions enable the motions to be computed correctly ... The present author has performed both these duties excellently. For these hypotheses need not be true nor even probable. On the contrary, if they provide a calculus consistent with the observations, that alone is enough ... For this art, it is quite clear, is completely and absolutely ignorant of the causes of the apparent [movement of the heavens]. And if any causes are devised by the imagination, as indeed very many are, they are not put forward to convince anyone that they are true, but merely to provide a reliable basis for computation. 

2That's not to say that I don't think that there are any 'big shifts' on the horizon. Some 'common knowledge', ostensibly derived from science, doesn't have nearly as much evidence as we'd like to believe - especially in disciplines where controlled experimentation isn't always easy. One example that's being challenged in books and research is the idea that fat intake is a major cause of heart disease, something promoted extensively by the American Heart Association. There seems to be growing evidence that refined sugars are a much stronger culprit - and in particular intake of certain sugars in doses not typically found in nature (e.g., high-fructose corn syrup). None of this is my expertise though. While his views seem a bit extreme, I would like to read Gary Taubes' Why We Get Fat, which discusses the issue.

Rant: Why Podcasts Go Bad...

I started listening to podcasts in 2006, during my Ph.D., or right around the time that they started becoming really popular. There have always been radio shows, of course, but the convenience of being able to listen to shows about topics of interest on my own schedule was hard to beat. I kept trying out new shows regularly, and eventually found a good mix of goofy and serious to listen to while commuting, doing lab work, or exercising.

Unfortunately, I've found that I have to keep changing up my 'mix', sometimes because shows eventually stop (bye, bye, 1Up Network), or more frustrating, because most podcasts eventually 'go bad'. I've discussed this at some length with a buddy, and I have an opinion as to why.

I think that all good podcasts begin with a clear plan: topic(s), segment layout, approximate length in minutes, etc. After some growing pains as the participants to get used to the flow of speaking on the mic, the show gains popularity in the form of a healthy number of subscribers. Simple enough, except that it inevitably appears to go to the host's heads.

In the world of radio, people love personalities - some folks make for particularly entertaining shows and segments. However, I feel like a lot of podcasters, once they've established a fan base, seem to think that people are tuning in to listen to them and not what they're actually saying.

An example, the Tested.com podcast (This is Only a Test) is ostensibly about technology news and reviews (though they've started throwing in some very light 'science'). Their shows used to be ~1 hr and followed the format of discussing tech-related news, talking about the pros and cons of new products, then answering listener questions. As of late though, their podcasts have become more and more bloated with irrelevant junk, like lengthy discussions about the best way to cook hamburgers, boring 'inside baseball' personal anecdotes (you've moved into a new office? Good for you), and long drawn out segments about things that aren't really related to technology except in the most tortuously roundabout ways (I don't care about how nice the hotel was at Comic Con). Oh, and the shows are now > 2 hrs. I've found myself only listening to a few minutes before deleting them and it's likely that I'll unsubscribe soon.

I've singled out Tested as an example, but this phenomenon seems rather common. I'm sure that there are a decent number of people who just want to hear their favorite radio personalities talk and, to be fair, some of the best moments in podcasts come from funny non-sequiturs and tangents. Nevertheless, my criticism here is editorial rather than proscriptive: Just like word counts force you to write clearly and concisely, sticking to a podcasting plan and time-frame keeps said tangents to only the most interesting and at least somewhat relevant.

New podcasts compete for the ears of subscribers and tend to go to much greater pains to stay on track, keep quality high, and edit out uninteresting, extraneous material. Once they hit the 'big-time', at least as far as subscriber counts go, a lot of this tends to go by the wayside in what I assume is the failure to appreciate the qualities of the show that made in popular in the first place. In podcasting, like so many things, I'm beginning to think that it may be better to burn out rather than fade away.

In my experience, the most consistently high-quality podcasts are those that stick to a plan/format and edit judiciously in order to maintain high-quality. I may have a lot of opportunity to listen to shows, but there are always new podcasts competing for my time.

P.S. Another couple of podcast gripes: 1) Audio quality. The best podcasts are generally recorded in studios, though I've heard some excellent Skype-based ones as well. Regardless, even the best 'cast can be ruined by a single participant with awful call quality. If someone keeps dropping from the call, it's better to axe them altogether rather than force your listeners to put up with incomprehensible gibberish. 2) Bad hosts/guests. Not everyone is a good public speaker and there's nothing wrong with admitting that. The official podcast of a particular magazine, for example, doesn't have to have every staff member on the show out of some perverse sense of 'completeness'. Someone who stutters, interrupts the flow of the show, or doesn't have anything interesting to say drags everything down. 

The Net is a Dangerous Place...

I've been a bit troubled by the recent trend among several world governments who've attempted to pass sweeping legislation with the intent of 'regulating' the internet. Some of these bills, such as this one in Canada, basically allow warrantless 'wiretapping' of internet traffic in the name of protecting 'children' from vague threats1. Others, such as the US SOPA or CISPA bills, are ostensibly about preventing online piracy or protecting national security, but the muddied wording and over-reaching nature of the legislation makes any specific intention debatable.

The specifics of the actual laws vary, of course. Some indemnify corporations against litigation should they provide personal information to the government that violates specific privacy laws, while others allow require internet service providers (ISPs) to keep copious records. Another popular form of bill allows companies to hold web hosting services liable for the content that their users upload. Cutting through the noise, all of these 'initiatives' pretty much have the same thing in common: They all try to argue that things done on the internet are somehow markedly different from things done in other 'mediums', and therefore require that someone be given more power in regulating it.

Not wanting to treat these sorts of issues with the same black-and-white mentality that I've seen used by many pundits, there are obviously aspects to the modern internet that allow rapid, mostly anonymous dissemination of copyrighted and/or even illegal material. In addition, I'm sure that modern criminals are able to use this anonymity to their advantage.

However, I'm sure that the advent of cellular phones was a boon to crime syndicates everywhere, and yet we didn't start widespread warrantless monitoring of the public's cell phone use (before the PATRIOT act anyways, to the best of my knowledge). I think it's pretty safe to say that a criminal element will spring up in any medium where an incentive exists for people to participate in such a thing. To paraphrase Balzac (or G. Gordon Liddy): If crime didn't pay, there would be far fewer criminals. I'm sure that governments would love to trample all over our constitutional rights to privacy, but I'm willing to bet that these 'protection' bills are heavily sponsored by the same folks who want all of the 'anti-piracy' bills to go through (see below).

The problem with 'piracy' is a bit more complicated - I don't think that it's the internet that's the problem, but rather that people place little-to-no value on 'digital' goods. I've had conversations with perfectly reasonable, intelligent people who proudly showed me their collection of ~$25,000 worth of pirated software without batting an eye; but would never think of shoplifting a chocolate bar. It's also clear that the cultures of some entire countries simply don't encourage paying for any media.

All this being said, I'm not exactly sure how fighting this theft is materially any different from fighting any other theft. I mean, every other business is plagued by opportunistic 'free rides'. When I was a kid, people routinely copied tapes and movies, shared books, etc. I never heard lamentations from studio execs and publishers that every time I loaned a CD to someone, it was a lost sale. But all of a sudden, Hollywood accountants come in to tell us that piracy is costing them more by the day than they make in a year and that everyone needs to be monitored to make sure that we're all playing by the 'rules'2.

Call me cynical, but I think that there's more than a little 'rent-seeking' going on here. Giant, powerful corporations are springing out of the technology revolution and seem to be doing just fine, whereas all of these archaic giants are clinging to outdated business models and crying foul. Perhaps a younger generation doesn't 'value' a film at $20, or a hardcover book at $30, or an album at $15, etc. What's the artist's cut on those figures anyways? Methinks that these young turks - the Netflixes, Amazons, Googles, and Facebooks - have found a much more efficient and cost effective content distribution model that leaves all of the good old boys in the dust.

As always some radicals are going to use the internet to organize and cause mischief. Some jerks are going to rip off the occasional Lady Gaga album (though it's questionable if they would have bought it were it not available through pirated means), and many, many fools are going to be too slow to figure out how to keep monetizing what people no longer value as highly as they once did. But in all of this I'm sitting in front of what is undoubtedly the greatest tool in human history in terms of disseminating and democratizing information, fostering cross-cultural interaction, and generally lifting the veil of opaqueness that's settled over that question of 'what's going on over there' for thousands and thousands of years. It's a marketplace of ideas that will compete for mental real estate with a much smaller barrier to entry than traditional mediums - that is, so long as it's kept free of what largely amounts to special-interest sponsored tampering.

The net is a dangerous place, at least in the traditional sense of the word, meaning 'threatening'. The question is 'threatening to whom'?   

1I have this constant, nagging problem with pretty much everything I hear about children (in the broad sense) these days. See, I did all kinds of stuff that I'm now being told is psychologically devastating to children, but I turned out just fine. I played insanely violent video games (there were no ratings back then), watched M-rated movies, read 'adult' fiction, and went to some of the most disturbing sites on the net regularly. In fact, we all did and most of us turned out ok. I'm hard pressed to think of anyone I know who didn't turn out so well that can't be explained by a terrible family situation or a series of 'real life' problems. I certainly can't think of any kid who say, glanced at pornography, only to have his or her life go spiraling out of control despite the best efforts of their family and friends. I think we're yet again completely misplacing our fears in the direction of things that old people can't understand, like rock-and-roll, or comics. Oh, and if you're concerned about the 'legions' of pedophiles lurking on the internet, then don't let your kid use it. Or maybe you could educated them or whatever before you buy them that iPhone.

2Have you ever tried to read one of these 'End-User License Agreements' that comes with software? They're ridiculous.

Rant: Words from the 'Top Shelf' or [INSERT WORD HERE]gate...

"We go right for the top shelf with our words now. We don't think about how we talk; we just say the right-to-the-fucking... 'Dude it was amazing!' It was 'amazing'? Really, you were 'amazed'? You were 'amazed' by a basket of chicken wings? Really?"

-Louis CK, Hilarious. (listen to it here; Image here).

Is it just me or does it seem as though we've become incapable of discussing topics with any kind of verbal caution or reasoned analysis? Alright, perhaps it's a bit ironic that I'm beginning a post about hyperbole with such an incendiary statement, but when it comes to certain types of discussions, I'm beginning to feel that it's justified.

It seems as though there are way too many articles about perfectly normal situations written as though said situation was taken to some insane theoretical extreme. If a popular company has bad quarter, all of the headlines start with 'is it the beginning of the end for [INSERT CORPORATION HERE]?'. Similarly, upon introduction of a new product, all headlines will read, 'Will product X kill [INSERT DOMINANT COMPANY]'s product Y?'. A political candidate makes a faux-pas, and everyone immediately asks whether their campaign is 'DOOMED', and so on.

What kills me is the lack of empiricism underlying these statements. We have abundant experience telling us that if something seems to good to be true, it probably is ('true' being defined here in terms of what will generate the best news copy). Similarly, things are almost never as bad as they first seem. I understand that you have to sell magazines or clicks, and as Drew Curtis of fark.com pointed out in his book, there's a lot of incentive to manipulate headlines. But this sort of crazy exaggeration extends far beyond the headlines into the body of the work itself.

I think that one big part of it is the rise of news aggregator blogs, like Gawker's garbage, TMZ, or Yahoo (sorry I won't provide links to this stuff). I've already complained before about how these places have fallen prey to eschewing journalistic ethics in order to solicit 'clicks', and they're certainly guilty of making mountains out of mole hills in terms of headlines. But I don't think that the entire blame can be laid at their feet - it's a broader cultural phenomenon. I think we've all been somewhat seduced by media that uses hyperbole and often comical extremism to make points, but enough is enough.

As I've mentioned over and over again, I listen to a lot of podcasts. Well, I should say that I have listened to a lot of podcasts because I'm in a continuous process of culling my regular rotating list of shows. A lot of this is simply because most podcasts are not very good1. But I've also become very sensitive to the overuse of hyperbole in current event shows. Every single thing cannot possibly be one of the following:

a) The best thing ever.
b) The worst thing ever.
c) Revolutionary. (or is that 'Resolutionary'?) 
d) The death of modern [INSERT CONCEPT HERE]2.
e) A harbinger of the apocalypse.
f) [INSERT WORD HERE]gate.

You know what? I think that we are basically living in the midst of [INSERT WORD HERE]gate, wherein every random stupid thing that happens is being directly equated to a national scandal that shook the foundations of people's confidence in democratically elected government. Remember the problems with the iPhone 4 antenna - Antennagate. Or how about 'Nipplegate'? I need to point out that the above link to the list of 'gate' controversies is nowhere near exhaustive in terms of how often I've seen/heard this used on blogs and podcasts. 

As Louis CK asks in the bit quoted above, where do we go from here? We're already describing banality with linguistic extremes, so how do we describe events that are legitimate outliers? I don't think that this is the end of the world or that it's all downhill from here (though that's what the subjects of this rant would probably say themselves). Rather it's simply that I'm being pushed towards a more professional style of communication not provided by every random source, and that I'm willing to pay for it.

A little reasoned analysis would be appreciated, even if it's notoriously difficult to argue the middle ground.

1The best podcasts are those that learn from and apply the techniques that make good radio. There has to be good chemistry among the hosts/participants, good quality to the recording and production, and interesting topics. Some people have the 'knack' while others do not, unfortunately. It's very much an Anna Karenina problem in that an otherwise great podcast can be ruined for me if people are continuously being dropped by Skype, or one host obviously has no idea what they're talking about, or if people on the 'cast are obviously distracted and doing other things while recording. It's tough to judge whether a cast will be decent before trying it out, because sometimes the most amateur (in the literal sense) efforts are amazing, while big professional productions fall utterly flat and vice-versa.

2As an example of 'd', may I present exhibit A: Katy Perry unfriends Russell Brand on Twitter. Hearalded as the death of journalism.

Monday Rant: The Modern Shopping Experience...

Over the past couple of years, I've become increasingly obsessed with preferentially purchasing from Amazon.com (or Amazon.ca, when I was still living in the Fabled Canadas), rather than frequenting local retailers. When I mentioned this to a friend, he seemed almost insulted, alleging that I'd prefer to support large, faceless, nebulous corporations rather than local businesses. My answer: Yes (with caveats as detailed below).

Let's ignore the highly consequential detail that Amazon.com is often up to 40% cheaper than local retailers1 and stick entirely to the shopping experience. I hate, hate, hate the experience that I have at most stores.

Honestly, there are only two things I need from you if you work at a retail shop: I'd like you to be available as well as knowledgeable about the products that you're selling. That's it. For some reason it seems as though many stores are trying to be annoyingly 'polite', as if this is what differentiates them from online. It drives me crazy to have people constantly asking me if I 'need help'. No, and since I'm older than six, I can be the judge of whether I need your particular brand of 'help'.

The help thing is a mild annoyance compared to something that I touched on last year: paying for products has become the most obnoxious process in the world - so much so that I can become very frustrated and testy when dealing with checkout clerks. "No, I don't want your 'savings' card", "I'm not interested in an extended warranty", "I don't want to pre-order anything," "I don't want to give you my phone #/ email / zip code", and so on. I'm giving you my money, leave me alone!

I've also noticed a disturbing trend among specialty retailers (particularly in electronics) where the staff just isn't knowledgeable about the products that they sell. They offer poor, often self-serving advice, to the point of outright lying in order to make a sale. If all you do is sell audio/video equipment, the least you should know is whether product X is compatible with product Y, no?

I've heard some scuttlebutt suggesting that big-box retailers largely shifted business models in the 90s. Instead of hiring career clerks as they did in the past, they focused on young, cheap, less-knowledgeable labor. To this they added a massive push towards service-based 'products' such as extended warranties, service contracts, and the like. It seems to be the hindsight narrative of the 90s, but everything seemed to move towards cutting costs and boosting profits, which isn't necessarily 'bad' per se. In this case it seems to have had a negative impact on the customer experience. Nation-wide and international chains seem to be going under left and right these days.

In all honesty, who cares2? When I shop online, I'm more likely to find the product I want, reviews give me the ability to get a diversity of opinions, and best of all, it's shipped right to my door. I don't have to put up with lines, useless offers, or any of the other headaches of 'shopping'.

In all fairness, there are some types of retailers that will likely resist the move to online for a long time (if not indefinitely?). I'm still not comfortable buying most clothes through cyberspace, nor would I purchase quality furniture without giving it a try in the store. And of course there are some types of stores whose products are available online, but for whom I'd like to support the 'local guys'. This happens when the retailer provides a service that I can't get elsewhere (a music shop where I'm always discovering new artists, or a gaming store that offers play space and the ability to demo products, are a few examples). 

However, as Sartre said: "Hell is other people", and I'm certain that he intended a special focus on those who work at retail.   

1We're ignoring it despite this alone being argument enough to shop online.

2Who indeed? I've heard all of the arguments against shopping online and find them unconvincing. Am I really costing local people 'jobs'? Any job that's so volatile probably wasn't a good 'career choice' in the first place. Furthermore, we're just getting into a classic argument as to who should be responsible for your livelihood: Why should I sacrifice my hard-earned money to keep you afloat? A more interesting argument is an environmental one: Local is better because it involves less transportation. Unfortunately, this is often false: It's much more fuel efficient for a delivery truck to deliver Amazon goods to each of us, rather than for us to get into our own cars and drive around picking up the stuff locally (this week's Econtalk podcast is all about the unintended consequences for the environment of 'common-sense' environmental thinking).Save & Close