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Columbus Lied

16-Dec-09

One of the great benefits of modern civilization is the tremendous amount of information that is available for us to learn from, argue about, or misunderstand.

It’s easy to filter this information so we can stress just the things that support what we already believe. The recent revelation of email sent by scientists studying climate change is the latest example of this.

The weather may be a safe subject to talk about with strangers on an elevator, but climate change is something else. It’s turned into a subject to avoid, unless you like arguing in circles and straining relationships.

If the theory of human-induced climate change is correct, then we are going to have to change the way we live. No one wants to do that. Instead, we’ve been questioning the theory. If it’s wrong, we don’t have to change.

The result has been a lot of hot air that may only be making the problem worse.

With arguments of this sort, both sides look for the ultimate weapon, a simple and convincing argument that can’t be denied. It doesn’t help if you have volumes of information and piles of data to support you, if no one else can understand it.

In 1998, climate change scientists came up with a “hockey stick” as the best way to visually explain what was happening. It’s a graph that shows the Earth’s temperature over the past thousand years. The lines wiggle a lot as they move from left to right, but at the very end they shoot up.

There’s more than one line on the graph because the climate change scientists looked at different ways of calculating historical temperatures. The most reliable line is the record of instrumental measurements taken over the past 150 years. The other lines are based on measurements of tree rings or chemical compositions of ice, coral, and rock. Scientists look at how these things change and compare them against actual temperature measurements, and then extrapolate backwards. Some scientists disagree about the correlations between these things and what goes into the formulas used to create a graph like this.

The graph was published in 1998 in an article called “Northern Hemisphere temperatures during the past millennium: inferences, uncertainties, and limitations”. It has come to be accepted as the key visual to identify climate change, and has been subjected to intense scrutiny, peer review, and criticism of the methods used. A 2006 National Research Council report (commissioned by the U.S. Congress) raised questions about the methodology but had a high level of confidence that the warming over the last few decades was unmatched over the past four centuries.

The problem with a graph like this is that it becomes the topic of discussion, rather than a tool used to discuss an issue. It takes on an unnecessary importance. When we start relying on graven images, we get ourselves into trouble.

The emails seem to show that some of the scientists involved in this work were opinionated and willing to ignore, hide, or tweak its shortcomings. It looks like they wanted the graph to fit their beliefs, or promote them to others.

When scientists get selective about the data they use and how they use it, they are no longer practicing good science.

I’m also disappointed in the reaction of the skeptics. Their argument has been that we don’t have enough information to act. They have been demanding more thorough and conclusive studies. But they seem perfectly content to accept a handful of emails that show scientists are just as human as the rest of us. As if that solves the problem of climate change.

Some people think scientists don’t get to have opinions. But the truth is, you don’t discover anything unless you’ve got an opinion about it first. You call it an hypothesis and then you test it.

When Columbus sailed west to find the East, he did it knowing the Earth was round. He also thought that the Earth was a lot smaller than it really was.

Eratosthenes had calculated that the world was 42,000 km in the second century BC. (It’s actually 40,000 km.) But Columbus relied on the calculations of Marinus of Tyre, leading to an Earth that was only 25,000 km around.

Columbus navigated by dead reckoning. He relied on a compass and carefully tracked how far he sailed each day.

His logs show that he kept two sets of numbers. For centuries, it was assumed that he did this so his crew wouldn’t fear that he had sailed too far from Spain. In 1983 James E. Kelley figured out that Columbus was converting the log between Italian and Portuguese Leagues.

Columbus also used lunar eclipses to measure how far he had sailed. This is a method that was used by Alexander the Great. If you know what time an eclipse occurs in two separate places, you can calculate how many degrees of longitude separate the two locations. It’s a little harder to do without clocks, but was a well known method at the time.

Columbus reported the times of two eclipses, but made huge errors in his measurements. One of the eclipses may have been impossible to observe, since the log indicates there was a heavy storm.

But the real reason for the errors was that he could only be confirmed as Viceroy of the newly discovered lands if they were in the region of the Indies. In order to protect his fortune, Columbus lied about the eclipses.

This didn’t change the size of the Earth or the importance of his voyage.

Warmergate doesn’t prove anything, and has not invalidated the basic truth of climate change.

We’re still left with some indisputable facts: the Earth has gotten warmer over the past few decades than it has been in recorded history, and probably warmer than it has been since civilization began 11,000 years ago. There is more carbon dioxide in the atmosphere than at any point in the past 500,000 years, and it’s gone up faster than at any previous time. Increased CO2 leads to increased warmth, and that correlates with our measurements, as well as observations of the polar ice caps. Given the warming trend, arguing about hockey sticks will get us nowhere.

Snow Leopard

03-Dec-09

This was one of those random things I find on the Internet. Steve Winter, a photographer for National Geographic, used lasers and motion sensors to capture this wonderful image of a snow leopard in a snow storm in northern India.

Snow Leopard

Bleak Friday

02-Dec-09

The fourth week of November is the home of two unique American holidays: Thanksgiving and Black Friday.

On Thanksgiving we give thanks for all that we have. On Black Friday we go out and get more.

Often, it’s stuff we don’t really need.

These are secular holidays with origins in American history and culture. These days, neither one is tied to a particular religion, though Thanksgiving does have religious roots in ancient harvest festivals, as well as ties to the Pilgrim’s feast after the successful growing season in 1621. Many people today do acknowledge and thank the supreme being of their choice as part of their Thanksgiving, though we don’t also follow the Pilgrim’s practice of fasting after unfavorable events.

Maybe we should. And maybe we do, in our own way.

Lots of people spent the weeks before this Black Friday hoping for signs of the return of a different supreme being: the American Consumer.

The American Consumer was once powerful, especially this time of year. Black Friday got its name in the 1950s and 60s when Philadelphia police noticed how heavy the traffic was on the day after Thanksgiving.

Later, it referred to how the American Consumer, through the power of holiday shopping, could turn profit sheets black after being red most of the year.

Black Friday is, in a way, the purest American holiday.

Independence Day is special, but other nations celebrate their independence too.

We share a bunch of religious holidays with the rest of the world as well.

And while most of the rest of our holidays are associated with sales, only Black Friday exists just for sales.

For the past couple of decades, we counted on the power of the American Consumer to drive a booming global economy.

And the American Consumer delivered. Almost by magic, we had more money than we should have had, and we spent it.

This fueled a global economic boom.

Instead of selling things we made to the rest of the world, which is the way America became a great nation, all we were asked to do was consume them.

The faster the better.

Instead of building things, the only thing the American Consumer needed to do was to own a house. Owning a house was like owning your own bank. It was better than that. It was like owning a printing press. The kind that prints money.

Back in the good old days, our golden age if you will, the American Consumer spent a lot of time buying things, and a lot of time planning for a comfortable retirement. But that was 2006.

In 2009, Americans are coming out of retirement.

Three years ago, it didn’t matter if our jobs were going overseas. All that meant was that whatever we were buying would cost less, and we could therefore buy more of it. And, if that made the companies in our 401k plans more profitable, then we were getting richer anyway.

The last big industries in America were housing and finance. In both industries, we figured out how to create wealth out of thin air. This was our greatest miracle.

Now we’re in the depths of a great recession. Maybe – just maybe – we have managed to avoid a second great depression. There is some talk of recovery. But I’ve yet to understand what it is we’re supposed to be recovering to.

There was a lot of hope for this Black Friday, but that hope was coming from the people who seem to think things can go back to the way they were.

I don’t think that’s possible. I hope we can find a better way.

The American economy is walking a tightrope, with deflation on one side and inflation on the other. Either way, we’ll fall hard. Most of us are warily watching this passage, fearing a fall in either direction. And some of us seem to be rooting for that fall.

We search for signs of hope. Last week the news was bleak.

We’re left to wonder whether Dubai is this year’s Lehman: the emirate that was deemed not too big to fail. And if it fails, what fails next? Greece? Ireland?

The United States?

The first assessments of this year’s Black Friday are mixed. More consumers came out than last year, but they spent less. Discounts were steep to lure them out. So the profits are not there.

It looks like the American Consumer remembers how to fast in unfavorable times, after all.

I know that’s not welcome news for those who dream of a recovery to 2006. But it’s time we started thinking different.

In the past, the treasure fleets of empires brought gold to their shores. Standing in a Home Depot this weekend, I couldn’t help picturing fleets of giant cargo ships making their slow way across the Pacific, carrying artificial Christmas trees, plastic ornaments, boxes containing millions of tiny blinking lights, flat screen TVs, and video games. All stuff we don’t need.

Also clothing, and shoes, and things we do need that we no longer make here.

If I were a Pilgrim I’d look at a successful harvest and be thankful for a winter’s survival earned by hard work.

That’s an American value to celebrate.

If I were a Pilgrim, I’d know I couldn’t sit back and wait for a supreme being to keep me alive through the winter.

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, or alter your prayer habits.

It’s our easy money attitude I want to challenge. Our sense of entitlement.

Whatever we recover to, it is not going to be done in a year. It’s not going to happen because of an election. It won’t be a result of our guys winning, or their guys losing. It will happen because we figure out a way to work together again, and we rediscover patience and tolerance, to go along with fasting when times are tough.

If that happens, then we’ll really have something to be thankful for.

A Little Bit From “Lost Harvest”

01-Dec-09

NaNoWriMo 2009 is over. I finished a rough draft of a novel, 51,563 words, over the thirty days of November. Here’s a little bit where Mayumi shows Cooper how it’s done. Hope you like it.

There were apple trees growing in front of Number One. A frontal assault was out of the question, but May showed Cooper how they could work around to the side and get in through one of the basement windows.

“Just me and you. We go up the basement stairs. They’ll be on the second floor. Because they think it’s safer there. Once we’re in the house, we’ll make some noise, and they’ll tell us where they are.”

“You make it sound easy,” Cooper smiled.

“Let’s not kill ‘em. Might be worth asking where they’ve been, who they’ve seen. If there’s a crowd coming up from the city, we need to know.”

“So we can set more places at the dinner table for them? You’re quite the hostess.”

May grinned. “It’d be easier with pistols, though.”

Cooper happened to have two Glock 17s. He handed her one. “We’ll leave the Bushmasters here with the rest of my boys. That’s an extended magazine. Nineteen rounds.”

May checked the magazine, slammed it into the pistol, made sure the safety was on, and shoved the Glock into the waistband of her jeans. “If I need more than one, you can spank me. Okay. Let’s go.”

They moved through the shadows behind Number Three, and saw the blind spot May had noted on the side of Number One.

“See that? There’s a great room over the garage. And they’re on the second floor, where they think they’re safer. That great room has a vaulted ceiling. Nobody’s in there, so nobody will be watching us from that window. We can walk right up.”

They dashed across the gap between houses and pressed themselves against the garage. May signaled that they would go low around the corner, staying close to the house, and through the basement window.

When they got to it, it was open. They squeezed through, May first. She slipped through feet first and felt for the top of the washing machine. Crouching on it, she tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness. Then she climbed down out of the way so Cooper could get through.

“How’d you know it was open?” Cooper whispered after they had gotten inside.

“I left it that way.”

“Planning a little game of hide and seek?”

May grinned. “You never know.” She took out the Glock, flipped the safety off, and chambered a round. “Hold on to my back,” she said. “There’s a couple of things we could bump into down here. We’ll get some moonlight through the windows once we get upstairs.”

May felt her way forward to the base of the stairs. “Okay. Third step up squeaks.”

“You’ve cased this place out pretty thoroughly.”

“Like I said. You never know.”

At the top of the stairs, May peered under the door, then turned the doorknob with her left hand and opened the door just a sliver. She stayed low; the Glock in her right was now cocked. She pushed the door wider and slid through, holding the pistol in front of her and signaling for Cooper to follow.

“Stairs are around the corner. That way’s the great room. Remember that big window? When I get in position at the bottom of the stairs, throw something through it. I think the poker from the fireplace will do it.”

Cooper went through the kitchen to the great room. He found the poker, just like May said, hefted it. He could look back through the kitchen and see May crouching near the refrigerator, watching him. She nodded and moved. He saw her squat at the end of the hall and aim her pistol, and he turned and flung the poker as hard as he could at the big window. It shattered with a crash. Immediately, there were shouts and footsteps on the second floor.

He moved back towards May, but before he had gone down the stairs from the great room into the kitchen she fired, one shot, up the stairs. Someone tumbled down them, and Cooper saw May reach, grab, and slide a dropped handgun onto the kitchen tiles with her left hand while she kept aiming her Glock up the stairs. Whoever it was that had tumbled down the stairs tried to get up, but May spun and kicked and her victim stopped moving.

Now someone on the second floor was yelling. “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! I give up!”

May stood, still aiming up the stairs. “Come down slow, and keep your hands in the air, asshole,” she said. The guy who was already lying on the landing started to move, and May calmly put her foot on his back, right between his shoulder blades, and pushed him back down.

May was beckoning to the guy on the stairs with her left hand, and when he got close enough, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him so he smashed his face into the wall and fell on his partner.

“They’re all yours, Coop,” she said, and put the Glock back into her waistband.

Too Big To Fail

05-Nov-09

And so the inevitable happened. The Yankees, a perfect symbol for these modern times, won the World Series.

I suppose I should congratulate all of the Yankees fans out there whose lives are now slightly better than mine (even if that’s only in their heads).

No, really: Congratulations. Even I could tell that you were rooting for a team that was the best ever assembled to play the game of baseball. You deserve to enjoy this.

I call the Yankees a perfect symbol for these times because they are, like Goldman Sachs and the rest of Wall Street, Too Big To Fail. (In this analogy, the Red Sox and Phillies are Morgan Stanley and Citibank, while the Mets are Lehman Brothers. They were not too big to fail.) Think about it: if the YankeeMegaCorporation, operating out of its $1.5 billion taxpayer-funded cathedral, had managed to lose this World Series, what could they possibly have added to next year’s team in order to guarantee a win? Another starting pitcher? Half their rotation did not get to play in the postseason. Where would the next superstar free agent slugger play? Was there room in the lineup for another hitter? Hideki Matsui, the World Series MVP, is possibly not even going to be re-signed next year, because they do not need another designated hitter. (Perhaps what the American League needs to do is allow for an “extra hitter” so the Yankees could collect more millionaire sluggers, and they wouldn’t just sit in the dugout, the Yankees could put them to use.)

Failure was not an option. Victory was inevitable. Necessary. It was important for the Yankees to win the World Series, just as it was important for General Motors to be rescued. Because America Makes Cars, and America Loves the Yankees. Just ask anyone. Anyone that lives in Michigan or New York. New York can now schedule a ticker tape parade for the conquering heroes. Since there is no more ticker tape, I hope someone saved the shredded remains of Lehman Brothers and the more than one hundred banks that went under so far this year. New York can celebrate, it deserves this just as it deserves a mayor who spent $100 million to serve a third term whether or not there is a law that says mayors can serve only two terms. New York… Wall Street… Yankees… Bloomberg… perfect together. Who better to hand the keys to the city to the Yankees than the man who actually owns it. If you have the money, this is the way the game is played. It’s perfectly legal. It’s the free market. And even as I point this out, don’t automatically assume that I endorse socialism in baseball, or the enforcement of election laws and democracy, for that matter.

When victory is this inevitable, it’s really no big deal. Besides, they already had won 26 of these things before. To see Yankees fans jumping up and down like this, as if it hasn’t happened before… the phrase “irrational exuberance” comes to mind. If this is how Yankees fans feel after World Series Number Twenty Seven, I fear for Mets fans, who will have to keel over dead with joy if their team should manage to win their World Series Number Three. But that won’t happen; man will walk on the moon before the Mets win again. Make that one of Jupiter’s moons.

If you have the money, this is the way the game is played. This is the way the free market works, whether you’re trying to win the world series or an election, want to defy term limit laws, or just want a little health insurance. (Why am I bringing health insurance into this? because if you have the money, like Goldman Sachs and CitiGroup, then you are Too Big To Get Sick, and you don’t have to wait in line for those swine flu vaccines that are in such short supply for regular Americans.) And if you don’t have the money, the next best thing is to take a lot of vitamin C, and root for those who do have the money. Because, hey, it’s important: 27 World Series wins, and in the last decade, 9 playoff appearances. 8 division titles. Four pennants. Two world titles… this is important stuff, and it makes our lives better, doesn’t it? And after the glow of the Yankees win wears off, we can all go back to watching the Dow Jones creep up… what a historic rise in stock prices this year… stocks are up 6 out of the last 7 months… there’s a stat that should make you feel good about yourself… as the fed-sponsored artificial investment bubble of 2009 “lifts all boats” in the words of Wall Street Journal’s Peggy Noonan.

What if you don’t have a boat?

At some point more of us may realize that we don’t get World Series rings for rooting for a team, and there was no lifting for us boatless ones. We may realize that the government gave money (our money) to institutions in order to “save” them, at zero percent interest, and that those institutions turned around and poured that money into the stock market and made fortunes for themselves, their employees, their shareholders, while jacking up the interest rates on all us shmucks who lent them the money in the first place. This is the Finance Industry, the only one we have left, and we all better chip in and keep it humming because it is a life-sucking parasite that has drained the rest of the country dry, and now we depend on the Finance Industry’s minions for our own life function and to buy the very expensive season tickets to the New Yankee Stadium. When you look at America you see a shambling zombie, something that should be dead, and the only reason it’s moving is that malignant thing growing out of the place on its chest where New York City is. The rest of our vital signs went overseas, with our jobs, in order to feed that thing. And now we’re pouring every last dollar we’ve got, and every dollar our children and their unborn children will have, into keeping that thing alive just so we can continue to stagger around and buy a few more things, things like officially hologrammed championship t-shirts just like the ones our favorite team wore when they won it all, and go to a ticker tape parade. At some point we’re going to realize that our lives are no better off no matter who we root for, and we’ll look up through the fluttering “ticker tape” at those yachts floating on top of that bubble and wonder where our boats are. When that happens, more of us will start rooting for that bubble to pop, even if it means the end of us all. Just so we can get to see those yachts fall to earth and crash into a million pieces. This time, we won’t catch them. We’ll happily sift through the wreckage looking for chum, or survivors, who better hope there’s a government around to prosecute them and put them in jail before some angry people turn those survivors into more chum.

Now it’s time to hand out the World Series bonuses to a bunch of multi-millionaires. Hoo-ray. And it’s almost time to hear about the year-end bonuses for all those hard-working Finance Industry executives. As for the average American… you’ll all just have to put up with it. Consider this Yankees victory a gift. It is a distraction from the depression of 10% unemployment, or a $25 gift card to the mall (that was my Christmas bonus last year, and I am so looking forward to another one) or a phantom recovery (to what, we don’t know). All that doesn’t hurt as much now, because the Yankees won the World Series, and the Dow got back to 10,000 today! And don’t mind that sucking thing attached to your chest.