Poco a poco

Greenhouse at Wolfson College

As I expect a few readers of this blog did as well, I attended Philip Pullman’s lecture tonight, on the fundamental particles of storytelling. He chose just one: the action of pouring something, and discussed it with a range of examples from cartoons in The New Yorker to Kubla Khan. I appreciated the Epicureanism of his outlook – the general rejection of the mind-body duality that has proved so popular in philosophy, and the assertion that our essential modes of understanding are predicated upon the experience of the physical reality of the world. It was also interesting to not that he did not become aware of what he considers a fundamental element of the His Dark Materials trilogy (the phenomenon of cleaving or separation), until after the first two books had been published.

In the end, I think it is far less impressive to make some towering and essential contribution to scholarship than it is to write a truly excellent novel for children.

After the lecture, I had my copy of The Golden Compass signed with what I was told was the very Mont Blanc pen with which it was first written. I was a bit pleased to see that everyone else in the queue behind me had crisp new copies, whereas mine could not be mistaken for one that has not been read a dozen times. Counting his edition of Paradise Lost, which I had signed at the Alternative Careers Fair, I now have two inscribed books of his.

The Landlord’s Game

Lee Jones, author of in vino veritas, recently posted a surprising statement about the origins of the game Monopoly, the best selling commercial board game in the world:

Monopoly was designed in 1903 by a Quaker named Elizabeth Magie, who intended the game to highlight the evils of private property. Her version included squares like ‘Lord Bluebood’s Estate’ and ‘Soakum Electric Company’. A 1927 version stated in its rulebook:

“Monopoly is designed to show the evil resulting from the institution of private property. At the start of the game, every player is provided with the same chance of success as every other player. The game ends with one person in possession of all the money. What accounts for the failure of the rest, and what one factor can be singled out to explain the obviously ill-adjusted distribution of the community’s wealth, which this situation represents? Those who win will answer ‘skill’. Those who lose will answer ‘luck’. But maybe there will be some, and these, while admitting the element of skill and luck, will answer with Scott Nearing [a socialist writer of the time] ‘private property.’ “

Lee takes this as a demonstration of the power of capitalism to co-opt and subvert criticism (reach for your Gramsci everyone). This understanding also makes me think about Rousseau‘s statement that “”The first man who, having fenced in a piece of land, said “This is mine,” and found people naïve enough to believe him, that man was the true founder of civil society.”

One of the more obvious products of recent economic development has been a trend towards large increases in the income of the most well-off coupled with fairly modest ones for those of moderate income. This is true both internationally and within countries including Canada, Britain, and the United States. The willingness of people to tolerate that differential – whether justified by merit, libertarianism, or some other doctrine – would seem to hinge upon the same sorts of considerations as those which have transformed the societal understanding of the game of Monopoly.

PS. I wrote previously on executive pay and income inequality.

Final precipitous post

Snow covered bicycle

Walking around Oxford at night, in the snow, is the first time I have ever felt at all sensible wearing robes. I think it is a combination of the practical concerns of temperature and the suspension of normal rules of operation that always accompanies a Vancouverite after a snowfall.

I have always loved ‘extreme’ weather events, precisely because of the way they allow the subversion of normal modes of operating. Because of what I mean by weather, things like blackouts also count. Anything of a sufficiently super-human magnitude to let us legitimately question the rhythms of normal life tells us a lot about people; personally, the people who respond primarily with annoyance are the same sort who do not like Studio Ghibli films. That is to say, people with no imagination.

Oxford dinner hat trick

Snowmen have peepers

In a few minutes, I am off to my third Oxford formal dinner in a row, in the third different college. This is almost certainly the only time in my life such a run will occur. That the third is at St. Hugh’s seems quite appropriate: both because I taught there during the summer and because I found my way back through there earlier today, after going on a long walk in the snow. I went through the University Parks, then northwards along the River Cherwell until the bridge into Wolfson College. This dinner is in celebration of my friend and classmate Iason Gabriel’s birthday.

Snow day

Snow and dog in the University Parks

You know those days when you wake up to find the world unexpectedly blanketed with snow? As a Vancouverite, I really don’t, so this morning is especially surprising. I am glad I peeked out early enough to realize that cycling today is a non-starter. Also, early enough to be able to grab a few ‘pristine snow’ pictures of Oxford.

[Update: 1:30pm] College taken over by young ballistics experts from nearby secondary school. Staff, student body in headlong retreat, scattering in all directions. All thoughts of pristine snow banished by ceaseless barrage.

Timeline, for personal and public reference

As far as I know, these dates are correct:

28 February: Draft of second thesis chapter due

9 – 12 March: Hiking in Snowdonia with Oxford Walking Club
15 March: Draft of third thesis chapter due
30 March: Draft of fourth thesis chapter due
31 March – 7 April: Retreat to Devon for monastic reading / thesis completion in the former home of Dorothy and Nicholas Wadham

10 April: Draft of thesis conclusion due
23 April: Thesis due, Trinity Term begins
26 – 30 April: Paris with Hilary and Mike

4 May: First international law paper due
18 May: Second international law paper due

11 – 16 June: Final examinations: History 1900-present, International Relations Theory, Developing World, International Law
16 June: Trinity Term ends
29 June: Last possible day for a viva exam (oral exam for those on the cusp of passing or failing)

Specific dates for exams don’t seem to be released yet, though I admit to finding the web page for the examination schools quite bewildering. I seem to have been clicking through a great circle for the last ten minutes.

Richard Casement internship

Canal in North Oxford

As one more project for the next couple of weeks, I am going to prepare a submission for the Richard Casement internship at The Economist. Since about ten people a day are finding my site by searching for that term, I am not going to give any hints about what I might write my 600 word article about. That said, I am told that such applications generally succeed through the combination of a good submission with a fortuitous personal connection with someone already inside the organization. Furthermore, their stated “aim is more to discover writing talent in a science student or scientist than scientific aptitude in a budding journalist” and I am neither of those things.

That said, I can hardly imagine a better way to spend the first three months after finishing here than writing about science in New York or London. Hopefully, my application this year will go better than the ones I submitted in past recruiting cycles.

The Resolution of Revolutions

Chapter XII of Kuhn’s Structure of Scientific Revolutions is a brilliant and highly convincing account of the historical nature of changed thinking in scientific communities, on matters fundamental enough to define paradigms. While he doesn’t use the analogy, it strikes me as being very similar to the processes of natural selection.

The first adopters of a new paradigm strike upon it for a complex combination of reasons. Included among them are vague aesthetic senses, personal prejudices, and the like. Because of the comprehensive nature of ‘normal’ scientific investigation within the existing paradigm, such meanderings are generally unlikely to be rewarded. That said, if they can win over a few people and develop to the point where they become evidently useful, they have the chance to win over the scientific community as a whole. Naturally, this is easiest to do in times of crisis: especially when the new paradigm seems to help resolve the questions that lie at the core. Kuhn rightly identifies how theories that do an especially good job of predicting effects unobserved until after predicted are unusually good at winning converts.

Consider the development of any novel biological phenomenon. The earliest creatures to undergo a significant mutation probably get eradicated as a result. Only once an alteration is at least benign and at best somewhat useful can we expect any number of beings to be found in the world with it. One can only imagine how many trillions of bacteria snuffed themselves out in the course of random variations that eventually led to things like more efficient cellular respiration, or the development of motion by flagella, or the existence of symbiotic modes of living.

Of course, I like the analogy because it serves my earlier arguments that it is practical usefulness that permits us to argue that one scientific perspective is better than another. Technology, in particular, lets us separate fruitless theory from the fruitful sort, as well as comprehend when seemingly incompatible views are just complex reflections of one another.

The current argumentation about whether string theory is ‘science’ or not strikes at this directly. String theory might be seen as the evolution of a new limb that hasn’t quite proved to be terribly useful yet. Driven by the kind of aesthetic sense that make Brian Greene call his book about it “The Elegant Universe” string theorists are engaged in the kind of development that might eventually lead to a resolution, as described by Kuhn.

PS. Part of the reason natural selection is so frequently useful for understanding what is going on in the world is because of how it is predicated upon an illuminating tautology: namely how arrangements that are stable in a particular environment will always perpetuate themselves, whereas those which are unstable will not. This applies to everything from virtual particle formation at the sub-atomic scale to the success and failure of businesses. That said, it should be noted that the ‘system’ in which businesses actually operate is distinctly different from the ideal form envisioned by the most vocal advocates of free markets. Crime, deceit, and exploitation may be important aspects of that system, in addition to innovation and individual acumen.

Halfway through Hilary term

Staircase in the Oxford Union

The idea that I will be climbing Welsh mountains in just over a month is quite an appealing one. Between the weather and the need to do academic work, I have barely been cycling in any capacity beyond getting from my flat to the centre of town. As such, I have been feeling somewhat lumpish.

I am hoping to have virtually all of the critical reading for the thesis done by the time I am heading west with the Walking Club, giving the information the chance to consolidate with each bootstep upwards. I just hope it doesn’t treat my knees quite as cruelly as the Scotland trip did. I was walking strangely for the better part of a week, afterwards.

PS. This interactive page on orbital debris is really interesting. It includes information on the consequences of the Chinese anti-satellite test.