The search for life as we know it, behaving as we would expect it to do

Today’s xkcd:

the_search

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This may not really be fair to researchers who are currently searching the radio waves for signs of artificially produced transmissions from other planets.  After all, there is only one electromagnetic spectrum, while there might be any number of ways species might use or not use chemical traces to communicate.  Still, I think the basic point is well taken.

Neuron communication according to “Publius”

Here’s a press release on Science Daily with the whimsical headline “Neurons found to be similar to US Electoral College.”  The key paragraph, both in summarizing the research and in explaining the analogy, is this:

In this model, each dendritic branch of a neuron receives and integrates thousands of electrical inputs, deciding on just one signal to send to the axon. The axon then receives signals from all the dendrites, much like electoral votes coming in from state elections, and a final decision is made. The result could be an output in the form of an impulse, or action potential, or no action at all.

(more…)

The inexpressible slowness of the express lane

crowded_grocery storeYears ago I read a study somewhere about which lane moves fastest in the supermarket.  Apparently a supermarket viewed from overhead more often than not looks like a normal curve, with the longest lines in the middle lanes and the shortest on the outer ends.  So ever since I’ve been going to the outer lanes in supermarkets.  I very much doubt this has saved me any time, but I always tell myself “Remember that study” when I pick a lane.  And of course Apu on The Simpsons explained further refinements long ago. 

Now, Jason Kottke points to a  note explaining one reason why the express lane is often slower than other lanes.

Weighty matters

An artist's conception of the field pack ancient Roman soldiers wore

An artist's conception of the field pack ancient Roman soldiers wore

About seven years ago, I read G. R. Watson’s The Roman Soldier (originally published by Cornell University in 1969; I read a copy of the 1985 paperback reissue), a handbook summarizing what scholars in 1969 knew about life in the ancient Roman army.  One point Watson made that I’ve been thinking about ever since I read the book had to do with the field packs Roman soldiers wore.  Some scholars in Germany had tended to give very high estimates of the amount of weight that Roman soldiers had to carry, in some cases solemnly asserting that a legionary would march about all day with over a hundred pounds of equipment on his back.  Dismissing these estimates as a self-evident absurdity, Watson tries to figure out just how heavy the pack might have been (in the 1985 reissue, that discussion is on pages 62-66, continued in note 140 on pages 175-176.)  The best estimate he can come up with puts the average weight of the Roman soldier’s pack at 30 kilograms (66 pounds,)which happens to be identical to the standard for most modern armies. 

Watson’s evidence suggests that throughout history armies have tended to increase the amount of weight soldiers have to carry, until the kit becomes so heavy that the high command has no choice but to cut it down to something weighing about 30 kilograms.  I suppose that the obvious reason for this tendency is that many people are involved in deciding what it is essential that a soldier should carry in the field.  Each of those people has ideas about items that should be on that list, and each sees the addition of his or her favorite item as a victory.  When no one involved in decision-making at that level has to wear a full field pack on a regular basis, the decision makers have no immediate incentive to deny each other their little victories.     

I wonder if there might not be a second, less obvious reason for this tendency.  Ed Yong’s Not Exactly Rocket Science reports on a psychological experiment which indicates that people who are holding heavy objects tend to take matters more seriously than the same people do when they are not holding heavy objects.  If this tendency is and has long been general among all humans everywhere, then we would expect that people who are interested in human behavior would have noticed it.  Military commanders are interested in human behavior.  Perhaps, noticing the overlap between the category “people holding heavy objects” and the category “people showing seriousness,” commanders have formed the idea that they could induce ever greater seriousness in their subordinates by weighing them down with ever more heavily loaded field packs. 

If there’s anything to this speculation of mine, perhaps it is also part of the reason why there is so little protest against the spine-damagingly heavy backpacks that so many American children are forced to lug to and from school every day.  Of course, many people are involved in deciding what a student should learn and do in school, and that is an obvious reason why the collection of textbooks and other materials students must transport on their persons tend to grow so heavy. 

heavy backpackBut perhaps a belief that the weight of the physical burden one carries correlates directly with the seriousness of one’s attitude is also part of it.  We want children to take school seriously.  We have observed that people holding heavy objects tend to be serious.  If holding heavy objects translates into seriousness, maybe holding even heavier objects will translate into even more seriousness!  It will definitely translate into more back injuries, but isn’t that a small price to pay for keeping the wee ones doubled over for much of the day?

Knowledge is its own reward

In Consultation, by Joseph Schippers

In Consultation, by Joseph Schippers

Dostoevsky sometimes had his intellectual characters ask each other if they would rather be clever and miserable or stupid and happy.  If they claimed they would rather be stupid and happy, he had them jeer at each other.  “You’d have me believe that you could be like the simplest peasant woman, believe everything she believes, if it meant happiness?”  Evidently he thought that clever people needed cleverness more than they needed happiness.

It seems that Dostoevsky would have been at home among rhesus monkeys.  Ed Yong reports on an experiment in which rhesus monkeys were offered varying amounts of water and the opportunity to know how much water they were about to be offered.   The monkeys showed an interest in knowing how much water they were about to be offered that had no connection with the water itself.

Warbots

wired.com

wired.com

There are no robots in foxholes.

Cow People?

This cow person was made by visionary Patricia Piccinini.

This cow person was made by visionary Patricia Piccinini.

Cow people and human people are due any day now . .

OK I’m just kidding about the cow people . .

But I’m NOT kidding about sheep with human parts!

Artist Patricia Piccinini’s vision.

patriciapiccinini.net

Meet Your Makers

Virus (specifically, a Bacteriophage):
darwin.nmsu.edu

darwin.nmsu.edu

DNA or RNA is stored in the head until it is injected into a Bacterium. The 6 spider leg-looking things are tail fibers. Not all Bacteriophages have base plates and tail fibers.

 

 Bacteriophage Life Cycle:

uark.edu

uark.edu

Hmmm . . that’s a “life cycle”?

Sure looks like one.

 

 Beautiful, isn’t it?: 

msu.edu

msu.edu

 

That’s all very fascinating, but are they useful?

I mean are they REALLY useful.

Holy crap, are these things alive?

Seriously, are they ALIVE?

ACK! Kill it!

 

Viruses and Computers:

Viruses and the Event Horizon

How’d they do that?

Followers

Thanks to LeFalcon for alerting me to this:

evolution

This might be of interest:

 

 

 

“Malcolm Gladwell’s Outliers:  The Story of Success is a protracted attempt to debunk the conventional notion of ‘success.’  Gladwell challenges how we typically think and talk about successful people.  He argues that the conventional equation:

Ability/Talent + Determination/Hard Work = Success

is just erroneous.  Outliers makes a compelling case that this simplistic equation is flawed and that it significantly distorts the dynamics of the process whereby extraordinary achievers arise.

 

“The problem, as Gladwell frames it, is that the traditional narrative of success does not take into account the context surrounding the individual.  Yes, he finds that successful persons do indeed tend to possess above-average abilities or intelligence (although, beyond a certain “high enough” threshold, high intelligence ceases to be a determinant of success).  And he also find that successful persons do indeed, across the board, work extremely hard (normally logging about 10,000 hours in their chosen field of endeavor as a prelude to reaching their phenomenal achievements).  But not every highly intelligent, hard-working individual attains the achievement levels of Bill Gates, Einstein, or Michael Jordan.  Why?  Gladwell submits context as the heretofore neglected ingredient.

 

“‘Context’ includes various things.  For example, the author describes how one arbitrary institutional rule can exercise a massive effect on people’s developmental trajectories.  In Canada, youngsters get singled out at an early age for their superior hockey abilities.  However, it seems that the kids who stand out are not endowed with greater athletic talent.  Rather, they are merely the ones born right after an arbitrary January 1 cutoff date and are slightly older (and therefore bigger and stronger) than their peers.  The system creates a self-fulfilling prophecy.  These slightly-older standouts then receive a whole range of advantages designed to groom their hockey prowess, while the smaller, younger kids (who might possess great natural talent in their own right) are not given the same tools to develop and lag further and further behind every year.  Ultimately, the system produces an odd and striking anomaly:  An overwhelmingly disproportionate number of Canadian hockey stars have birthdays in the early months of the calendar year.

 

“For high achievers in other areas, Gladwell uncovers clusters of coincidences that transformed ability and work – when situated in the right place and at the right time – into stellar feats of accomplishment.  For example, he sums up his discussion of Bill Gates’ background with a quote from Gates himself:  ‘I had a better exposure to software development at a young age than I think anyone did in that period of time, and all because of an incredibly lucky series of events.’

 

“At the same time, the book also draws attention to the ways in which context may limit achievement.  It considers the stunted career of genius Chris Langan.  In spite of his extraordinary mind, this man could not effectively navigate the world of practical affairs.  Gladwell argues that Langan’s difficult early life denied him opportunities to cultivate certain key attitudes and interpersonal skills that would have allowed him to find his niche.  (Langan is contrasted with a diametrically-opposite figure:  renowned scientist Robert Oppenheimer, who attempted a bizarre murder and then talked his way out of any consequences.)

 

“The second half of the book shifts the discussion from general factors of context (clusters of ‘lucky breaks,’ family and socio-economic background) into a more focused consideration of one area:  cultural legacy.  Gladwell provides intriguing illustrative examples of how of behaviors, events, and patterns of achievement may be rooted in cultural heritage.  He links the feuds of Appalachian communities to their forebears’ Scots-Irish culture of honor.  He connects Korean Air’s high frequency of plane crashes to the way in which Korea’s hierarchical culture hampered communication in the cockpit.  And he ties the high math performance of Asian students to the attitudes and patterns of living that grew up around traditional wet rice cultivation and to the linguistic forms of numbers in Asian languages.

 

“In the final chapter, ‘Marita’s Bargain,’ the author brings an important perspective to public school education.  He suggests that children of lower socio-economic background tend to fall behind, not because they are less intelligent, nor due to lower-quality schooling.  Rather, the decisive factor appears to be that these students are doing very little learning in the summers.  Consequently, they drop further and further behind their middle- and upper-class counterparts whose home environments do provide educational stimulation during those months.  In this chapter, there is some slippage away from the cultural legacy theme.  The chapter might fit more naturally in the first half of the book.  Alternatively, Gladwell could have placed more emphasis on the African-American and Latin cultural legacies of the children affected.

 

“Throughout the book, the writing is clear and unobtrusive.  By not attempting high style, Gladwell leaves the reader free to absorb his well-constructed arguments without the impediment of unnecessary verbal density.  His thesis of the importance of context to an understanding of success is not revolutionary.  Rather, it is almost commonplace.  However, he has explored the idea in unusual depth.  Nor is he unaware of its implications.  The better we understand the mechanisms of success, the more readily we as a society can set up institutions that make success viable for larger numbers of people.”