The awesome power of hardware

Is anyone else surprised by how emulated versions of games originally written for a machine with a 16-bit, 3.58Mhz processor can strain the capabilities of a computer with a 1300Mhz processor? The second machine has 363 more processor cycles per unit time, and a staggering 10,000 times more RAM. Dedicated chips are awesome; hence, the superiority of digital cameras that use hardware interpolation (all Canon cameras, for instance), as opposed to those that use software to interpolate using generic chips.

That said, it cannot really be denied that Super Metroid is the best of the Metroid series, Super Mario World is the best Mario game, and A Link to the Past is the best Zelda. Final Fantasy VII may narrowly beat Chrono Trigger as the best console RPG.

Trading sub fusc for a shirt and tie?

Trinity College gates, on Parks Road

Having thought about it a good bit in the last week or so, I now think it is more likely that I will work for at least one year after I finish this degree, rather than going straight into another one. The reasons this seems intelligent include the following:

  1. When this program ends, I will have been in school for twenty consecutive years, with a few (mostly bad) minimum wage jobs mixed in. Actually seeing the world from the position of a mythical ‘real job’ will help me to make a smarter decision, with regards to whether I should do a PhD.
  2. I am already positively daunted by the thesis. With that in April and four Oxford examinations in June, the stress of crafting custom PhD applications to excellent schools might be a bit much.
  3. Seeing student debt numbers go down instead of up is an idea with appeal.
  4. I will need three references from Oxford for PhD applications. My advisor is one. If I am forced to use both of the people teaching my optional paper this term, there is a lower chance of getting a really good collection of references. I didn’t really interact with the people who taught the core seminars last year for them to serve as thorough references. If, however, I make a point of cultivating the four optional paper instructors over the course of this whole year, there seems a good chance I can get two more better letters.
  5. Right now, I really need to get the idea for my M.Phil thesis together. Having to come up with a whole other research proposal for a PhD is, again, a bit much.
  6. Not having to worry about the GRE this year would be nice. It would allow me to do more academic work, as well as spend more time enjoying Oxford.

Of course, this decision forces me to do one of the things that I am by far the worst at – apply for jobs. I am not even sure of which country to begin looking for jobs in. Both Canada and the US are plausible, with the UK much less so. A job somewhere really far-flung could certainly be an interesting way to spend a year.

Where do people recommend looking? Options with some appeal include working for government, working for an NGO, writing in a journalistic capacity, or doing anything that provides hands on experience with either ecology or environmental policymaking.

Antidote

Two effective cures for a ‘Depressive Zeitgeist:’

1. Tasty food: specifically, expensive tomatoes cut into pieces, sprinkled with oregano, mixed with chunks of feta, and drizzled with olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Repeat as required.

2. Some sort of engaging web project that, unusually, is not horribly frustrating. In this case, starting a wiki. Feel free to play with it. From now on, it is also the place to report bugs and make suggestions relating to the blog. You can also suggest readings related to my thesis there. I was going to put up a big ‘under construction’ banner, but then I realized that this statement is always already true for a wiki.

Depressive Zeitgeist

Tonight, I spent more than six hours speaking online with a dozen close friends, mostly back in North America. The prevailing mood is one of exhaustion, cynicism, uncertainty, and anxiety. People are going broke and doubting their long-term plans; people are losing faith in the basic moral axioms they have followed, and the basic assumptions that have sustained their efforts.

Hopefully, it is just an analog to the changing of the seasons – as the tilt of this great orb drives us all to spend the greater part of our days in darkness.

On electronic voting

There is some controversy in The Netherlands right now about electronic voting. A group has gotten hold of a voting machine, discovered that the physical and software security therein is very weak, and otherwise established the possibility that determined individuals could significantly impact election results through electronic tinkering.

The advantages of electronic voting are fairly numerous. Firstly, it could be made to happen more quickly. This may advantage the media more than anyone else, but it may as well be listed. Secondly, electronic devices could be made easier to use for people with physical disabilities and the like. Another advantage the system should have is increasing standardization between voting districts. Skullduggery involving dated or problematic machines in districts likely to vote in a certain way has been noted in a number of recent elections. Also, having an electronic record in addition to a paper one could allow for cross-verification in disputed districts. In cases where the results very starkly do not match, it should be possible to repeat the vote, with greater scrutiny.

The answer to the whole issue is exceptionally simple:

  1. You are presented with a screen where you select from among clearly labeled candidates, with an option to write in a name if that is part of your electoral system.
  2. The vote is then registered electronically, by whatever means, and a piece of paper is printed with the person’s choice of candidate, ideally in large bold letters.
  3. For an election involving multiple choices, each is likewise spelled out clearly. For instance, “I vote NO on Proposition X (flags for orphans).”
  4. The voter then checks the slip to make sure it is correct, before dropping it in a ballot box.
  5. These are treated in the standard fashion: locked, tracked, and observed before counting.
  6. The votes are tallied electronically, with a decent proportion (say, 20%) automatically verified by hand.
  7. If there is any serious discrepancy between the paper and electronic votes, all the paper ballots should be counted. Likewise, if there is a court ordered recount on the basis of other allegations of electoral irregularity.

Electronic systems have vulnerabilities including hacked polling stations; transmission interception and modification; as well as server side attacks where the data is being amalgamated. Paper systems have vulnerabilities relating to physical tampering. Maintaining both systems, as independently as possible, helps to mitigate the risks of each separately and improve the credibility of the process. It is like having both your bank and your credit card company keep separate records of your transactions. If they do not match, you have a good leg to stand on when alleging some kind of wrongdoing.

This system could use relatively simple electronic machines, and may therefore actually cost less in the long run than all paper balloting. Critically, it would maintain an unambiguous paper trail for the verification of people’s voting intentions. Companies that deny the importance of such a trail are either not thinking seriously about the integrity of the voting process or have self interested reasons for holding such a position.

[Update: 14 October 2006] The Economist has a leader on electronic voting machines and the US midterm elections. They assert, in part:

The solutions are not hard to find: a wholesale switch to paper ballots and optical scanners; more training for election officials; and open access to machine software. But it is too late for any of that this time—and that is a scandal.

Quite right.

Canadian thanksgiving in Oxford

Whether you are a Canadian in Oxford or just interested in meeting some, consider attending the Oxford Canadian Society‘s Thanksgiving party on Monday, October 9th. Thanksgiving doesn’t seem to be celebrated on this side of the pond, but in North America it is a tradition of papering over massive injustices perpetuated against the First Nations through the consumption of heaps of food and the propagation of a myth of harmony and cooperation between the original inhabitants of North America and European newcomers. Actually, Wikipedia is telling me that the American and Canadian versions differ significantly:

Unlike the American tradition of remembering Pilgrims and settling in the New World, Canadians give thanks for a successful harvest…

[O]n January 31st, 1957, the Canadian Parliament proclaimed…

“A Day of General Thanksgiving to Almighty God for the bountiful harvest with which Canada has been blessed … to be observed on the 2nd Monday in October.”

Certainly, I cannot remember anything about pilgrims. Mostly, I remember excessively large amounts of food at the houses of family friends. In particular, I have a craving for mashed yams (though who could guess why?).

The Canadian variant here is apparently to include pumpkin pie, Tim Horton’s doughnuts (which must be flown in), Canadian beer and wine, and hockey re-runs. Getting in will cost you £1, and the party begins at 8:00pm.

PS. I can scarcely suppress my amusement about how the Oxford CanSoc website seems to be modelled on those of the Canadian federal government: from the initial choice of language page to the structure of the menus at the top of most screens. Their composite image of the Radcliffe Camera, St. Mary’s Church, and the CN tower is quite odd.

Jokes about thesis stress have a basis in fact

Bike in a puddle on Merton Street

I am increasingly feeling trepidation about my thesis. There are essentially two reasons for this.

1. Uncertain focus

‘Science in global environmental policymaking’ is the work of many lifetimes. ‘The role of science in Kyoto and Stockholm, specifically’ isn’t an enormously interesting topic. It is the theoretical extensions that arise from the examples that are of interest.

My hope has been that the thesis area would be like an archeological site. I would stand there, amidst squared off sections, and spot something brilliant and surprising and unexamined. Right now, it feels more like being inside a tram car that is passing through a huge terrarium, full of interesting looking animals. The only problem is, I only have until the tram reaches the other side (April) to look at anything, and the tram itself is full of interesting things aside from the view out the windows. To call them ‘distractions’ is to insult the broader Oxford experience, but they do threaten my ability to say something cogent and important about the terrarium to the stern individuals with clipboards waiting in the room beyond it.

2. Ignorance of related disciplines

At least once a day, I speak to someone who agrees that my topic is a good one, and has something that I simply must read about it. In all probability, this is an indication that the topic is too broad (it obviously is, right now). It is also an indication that it touches upon an unusual number of disciplines: from psychology to sociology, politics, political theory, ecology, philosophy, ethics, economics, and history.

I am afraid that, even if I do grapple properly with a few of the big chunks of work on this that exist out there, there will be other big chunks that are entirely excluded from my consideration and understanding.

The solution

As is so often the case, the solution is trepidation-powered reading. I need to be somewhat ruthless in pushing myself to read enough that I will be able to say something new, while not embarrassing myself.

The possibility that this will be my only major piece of academic research is not one to be entirely discounted. A doctorate is no certainty. Of course, the thought that this may be the only attempt, as well as an important attempt, adds considerably to my anxiety.

Truth and American politics: approaching the mid-terms

Written by Tariq Ramadan, a fellow at St. Antony’s, this statement about his lengthy troubles with trying to get a US visa is well worth reading. In part, he says:

I fear that the United States has grown fearful of ideas. I have learned firsthand that the Bush administration reacts to its critics not by engaging them, but by stigmatizing and excluding them. Will foreign scholars be permitted to enter the United States only if they promise to mute their criticisms of U.S. policy? It saddens me to think of the effect this will have on the free exchange of ideas, on political debate within America, and on our ability to bridge differences across cultures.

This hits straight at what I see as the biggest foreign policy problem in the United States. It is not the holding of convictions; nor is it the willingness to act upon them. It is willful ignorance and self-delusion applied to information that contradicts the existing stance of the administration. While this trend extends into domestic politics, the most stark examples exist in the area of foreign affairs.

It is fair enough to argue that, at the time of the invasion of Iraq, Saddam Hussein was widely considered a threat. This is a judgement that was not confined to the British and American intelligence services. The British and American administrations could say: “We may have been wrong, but we were honest in our beliefs.” To say, instead, that they have been right all along, or deny making claims that have been undeniably recorded makes you them either insane or cynically disinterested in the truth. The indictment here is not based on the truth or falsehood of the original claims, but on the unwillingness of a group of people to revise their positions, or even admit fault, when facts have proved them wrong.

When an intelligence report confirmed the absence of WMD at the same time as the administration was claiming that the report said the opposite, Jon Stewart cleverly remarked:

The official CIA report, the Duelfer Report, has come out. The one that they’ve been working on for the past two years that will be the definitive answer on the weapons of mass destruction programs in Iraq, and it turns out, uh, not so much. Apparently, there were no weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, and their capabilities had been degraded, and they pretty much stopped trying anything in ’98. Both the President and the Vice President have come out today in response to the findings and said that they clearly justify the invasion of Iraq. So, uh, some people look at a glass and see it as half full, and other people look at a glass and say that it’s a dragon.

A notorious example of the trend of denying past statements is Donald Rumsfeld on WMD: “We know where they are. They’re in the area around Tikrit and Baghdad and east, west, south and north somewhat.” on ABC’s This Week With George Stephanopoulos, 30 March 2003. When challenged, Rumsfeld has repeatedly denied having ever claimed certainty about the existence of Iraqi WMD. Dick Cheney has likewise lied about previous statements (example) in which he claimed that such weapons certainly existed. Numerous other examples are obvious: the administration has misjudged the seriousness of the Iraqi insurgency, entirely miscategorized the relationship between the former Iraqi leadership and Al Qaeda, and continually misrepresented the human rights records of friendly but abusive regimes, including Saudi Arabia and Pakistan.

While politics has never been a discipline where practitioners adhere closely to the truth (look at Taylor Owen’s article in this month’s Walrus about the scale of US bombing in Cambodia during the Johnson administration), there are times when the disjoint between official statements and observable reality becomes so broad as to indict all of those who cling to the former. The fact that the run-up to the mid-term elections is being dominated by a scandal that, while disturbing, is quite peripheral to the governmental record of the dominant party demonstrates how narrow and polarized political debate has become.

Let us hope that, whatever the results are, the November 7 midterm elections will lead to a more candid discussion of the most pressing issues regarding America’s place and actions in the world.

The Oxford college system

Keble College

When it comes to international students, Oxford could do a better job of explaining the college system and the differences between the colleges. To most aspiring Oxford graduates from abroad, the choice of college is just one of hundreds of boxes to be filled in on the application. More than half of the international graduates who I polled chose their college more on the basis of its location than any other factor.

After a year here, I have come to appreciate differing collegiate cultures. To some extent, that is embedded in a way that really carries over from year to year. At another level, there are fairly wild swings in demographics, temperments, and styles of relationships; this is because a great deal about the graduate intake of colleges is random. If people had a better sense of what (if anything) the Oxford colleges stand for, beyond what reading a few pages in Wikipedia might offer, it might serve both to improve their own experiences here and strengthen and foster the development of distinctive cultures at different colleges.

I chose Wadham College primarily because Sarah P recommended it, and because it seemed to be old, central, and have nice grounds. It has a reputation for being left wing, but I have never seen any actual political energy expended there. The Queer Bop, far from being some kind of affirmation of homosexual equality, is mostly just a self-indulgent and hedonistic heterosexual booze fest. The single best thing about Wadham is probably the beauty of the grounds and gardens but, given that it is not an especially famous college, no Oxford student would have the slightest trouble visiting those unhindered by the kind of bowler-hatted bouncers I have been threatened and expelled by at Magdalen, University, and Christ Church. All things considered, I do not regret the choice, on the whole, even if I do look with envy at the international relations collections held by the libraries at Nuffield and Saint Antony’s.

For incoming graduate students of politics or international relations, I would recommend either applying to Saint Antony’s – if you care about being with a large group of graduates with similar interests and good facilities serving them – or one of the very old, grand colleges – if you care more about the ivied Oxford punting side of things than which books will be in your library. Options in the latter camp include Magdalen (perhaps the most attractive college), Christ Church, University, Merton, and New (founded in 1379). Those are all fairly central, as well. Balliol, Trinity, Exeter, and St. John’s are all nice, central colleges that I know too little about to speak on with any authority.

I am especially interested in what other Oxonians may have to say about all of this. Doubtless, there are many who will disagree, and, quite possibly, some who will take offense to seeing this or that college characterized in this or that way. I only have extensive experience with Wadham, Saint Cross, Nuffield, and Saint Antony’s. Thus, anything written about other colleges should be considered little better than hearsay.

[Update: 7:45pm] All comments above about libraries pertain only to international relations collections. Those studying other things may be presented with an entirely different spectrum of appeal.