My nomination for photo project of the year

Richard Renaldi asks strangers to pose for a photo with the stipulation that they must touch each other in some manner. The result is a series of 35 beautifully awkward photos called Touching Strangers. (Hat tip: Ben Casnocha)

See also last year's nomination.

In praise of political apathy

Recently, I've found it hard to get interested in anything political -- not politicians, not their scandals, not political theory, not new legislation, not optimal policy design. I would not say that I have become alienated, just disinterested, apathetic.

I won't try to discuss the causes of my apathy, because that would be rather boring itself, I just want to explore whether I should care. I want to argue, perhaps controversially, that apoliticality is a good thing.

Premise: Interest is a finite resource. I have not heard this stated by science, but I assume it is true. There seems to be very few exceptions to the rule 'X is a finite resource', even with human emotions. This premise is not very important because even if interest is infinite, time certainly is not.

Premise: Interest is best spent on topics which can either (1) improve your life, or (2) help you better understand your place in the universe. Because interest (or at least time) is scarce, we should try not to spend it haphazardly.

Premise: Except for a small group of people, taking an interest in politics does neither. A small group of people whose career is closely related to politics -- political scientists, political correspondents, politicians -- could improve their lives by taking an interest in politics, just like a small group of people could improve their lives by taking an interest in the weather, or geology, or 19th century knitting. Political institutions certainly matter, and are arguably one of the most important factors to economic prosperity, but unless you have an exceptional amount of money or influence, your political opinion is worth about as much (little) as your vote. To me, even the political influence of U.S. senators seems vanishingly small considering their tiny vote share.

Conclusion: Except for a small group of people, politics is a suboptimal use of interest.

The problem with clichés

In his book How Proust Can Change Your Life, Alain de Botton answers a question I had long wondered about:

The problem with clichés is not that they contain false ideas, but rather that they are superficial articulations of very good ones. The sun is often on fire at sunset and the moon discreet, but if we keep saying this every time we encounter a sun or a moon, we will end up believing that this is the last rather than the first word to be said on the subject. Clichés are detrimental insofar as they inspire us to believe that they adequately describe a situation while merely grazing its surface. And if this matters, it is because the way we speak is ultimately linked to the way we feel, because how we describe the world must at some level reflect how we first experience it.

What's with the pseudonym, bro?

Some of this blog's readers have learned through email that I blog under a pseudonym. Well, sort of. My pseudonym is close enough to my real name that it's not really a pseudonym. (Add "land" in front of "wehr" and you have my real last name.)

You might wonder why I would do such a thing. (Web 2.0ers, say it with me: your blog is your brand!!1)

Some reasons:

--You would be surprised at the many different ways people pronounce "wehr" with "land" in front of it. (Land-weer, Land-wurr)
--There is someone with my real name on Facebook who goes by "Tunz". Yikes.
--I thought it might be better to separate my web identity from my non-web identity. I was not sure I wanted this blog (and other such things) to be Googleable via my real name.
--Let's be honest: "Wehr" is just more rock-star.

The intention to separate my web identity from my non-web identity failed miserably when in January 2009 I sent Deric Bownds some links using my real-name email address. Oops. Now if you Google my real name, the very first link is no longer even his blog -- it's mine! I.e., enough people have searched for my real name and arrived at my blog through his link that the link is now the number one search result.

When I tell people this story, they often ask, why don't you just ask Deric to take down your name?

First of all, it's already too late. It's not even his blog that appears in the search results anymore.

More importantly, over a year later, I still cannot decide whether I mind people being able to find this blog via my real name. On the one hand, it could help me get in touch with some old friends since I don't do Facebook. On the other hand, I am weirded out by two different types of people reading this blog: (1) people who know me but only in a very superficial way, like colleagues, and (2) people who once knew me very well, but I no longer keep in touch with.

My ex-girlfriend from high school found this blog. I have no idea how long she has been reading, or even if she still reads.

I have not told anyone I work with about this blog, but that does not mean they have not found it. (I would tell them if they asked, but it seems lame to announce "yeah, I have a blog.") I occasionally write very personal things on here, and even on posts having nothing to do with me I might express thoughts in such a way that it becomes personal or revealing. It is strange to think of people reading this blog who see me five days a week but know nothing more about me than my meeting or hallway persona. My shy self is much more open in writing than in person.

I was not sure originally, but I no longer mind that future employers can find this blog. If they don't like what they see then I probably should not be working for them.

And although it may be awkward to have certain people read this blog, awkward ≠ bad. It is not a bad thing for casual acquaintances to learn more about me and my interests, or for old friends to be able to keep up with me.

In conclusion, I have no reason for a pseudonym other than having a slightly more rock-star name and to avoid being confused with "Tunz". You might have noticed that in this whole long post I never actually typed out my real last name, still clinging to the faux comfort of being non-Googleable. The ribbon cutting happens now:

Justin Landwehr

Eat that, Googlebot.

Fear not, post-Planet Earth world, new awesomeness is coming...

National Geographic has the Crittercam, seen here on a sea lion feeding on an octopus.

Burrard-Lucas reveals the BeetleCam, capturing photos like such: (hat tip: Mark Larson)



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Previous awesomeness:

Grizzly shake in super slow motion

30,000 bees vs. 30 hornets

A clip from still one of my favorite documentaries, Winged Migration

Breaking 'the meaning of life' into manageable pieces

In the final chapter of his book The Happiness Hypothesis, Jonathan Haidt examines The Ultimate Question. First, he says, we need to understand what we are asking. What does the meaning of life mean? We are not asking for a definition of life (although even that is hard to answer); rather, The Ultimate Question is a plea for help to make sense of life given that, most ways you slice it, it has the tendency to appear rather meaningless.

Looking at it this way, The Ultimate Question can be re-framed to mean "Tell me something enlightening about life." Haidt identifies two specific sub-questions to which people want answers and for which they find answers enlightening.

1. Purpose of life: "What is the purpose for which humans beings were placed on Earth? Why are we here?"

2. Purpose within life: "How ought I to live? What should I do to have a good, happy, fulfilling, and meaningful life?"

In answering the first question, science and religion are often seen as antagonists, and indeed they do sometimes offer conflicting answers. The two major classes of answers are that (a) you believe the universe was intentionally and intelligently created, or (b) you believe in a purely material, intentionless universe.

Many people attempt to answer the second question based on their answer to the first, and indeed see the two questions as inseparable. But as Haidt explains, it needn't be that way:

Because I embraced the scientific answer to the question of the purpose of life, I thought it precluded finding purpose within life. It was an easy mistake to make because many religions teach that the two questions are inseparable. If you believe that God created you as part of His plan, then you can figure out how you ought to live if you are going to play your part properly. The Purpose Driven Life is a forty-day course that teaches readers how to find purpose within life from the theological answer to the question of the purpose of life.

The two questions can, however, be separated. The first asks about life from the outside; it looks at people, the Earth, and the stars as objects -- "Why do they all exist?" -- and is properly addressed by theologians, physicists, and biologists. The second question is about life from the inside, as a subject -- "How can I find a sense of meaning and purpose?" -- and is properly addressed by theologians, philosophers, and psychologists. The second question is really empirical -- a question of fact that can be examined by scientific means.

Haidt spends the rest of the chapter developing solutions to the how ought I to live question based on research from psychology (with wisdom from ancient philosophers sprinkled in). It is one of the best books I have read, and I recommend it to everyone.

In a future post, I hope to explore the implications of his solutions.

Trout Fishing in America Shorty

Today my lady, like she has so many times before, graciously brought home a backpack full of books (thank you, thank you!), just in time for my trip to DC tomorrow. The pile contains a number of exciting books, but one in particular has me feeling especially giddy. The book is Richard Brautigan's 1967 surrealist psychedelic American satire classic Trout Fishing in America.

One look at the cover (above) and I was in love.

It is a thin book printed in 1967 with the cover threatening to detach itself from the binding, slightly browned with pages that crinkle. It is NC State University's fourth copy.

I put the book in my queue after hearing the 5 minute segment on NPR's Weekend Edition, which included this piece:

The book "Trout Fishing in America" refuses to be a novel. There's no kind of consistent character development, or chronology or a plot, really. And it also refuses in a way to be a book. For example, the first chapter of "Trout Fishing in America" is a discussion of its own cover. It has a strange self-awareness of itself as a book.

And the other aspect that's very consistent is the sense of very bizarre comparisons. He talks about furniture that looks like baby food. And he talks about an old woman who tends a huge wood furnace like the captain of a submarine in a dark basement ocean during the winter. And some of the comparisons are quite moving and others are just plain bizarre. He describes the long bill of a woodcock that's like putting a fire hydrant into a pencil sharpener then pasting it onto a bird.

I cannot remember having so adored a book after 1.5 pages. Listen to how he describes the cover:

Born 1706—Died 1790, Benjamin Franklin stands on a pedestal that looks like a house containing stone furniture. He holds some papers in one hand and his hat in the other.

Then the statue speaks, saying in marble:

PRESENTED BY

H.D. COGSWELL

TO OUR

BOYS AND GIRLS

WHO WILL SOON

TAKE OUR PLACES

AND PASS ON.

Around the base of the statue are four words facing the directions of this world, to the east WELCOME, to the west WELCOME, to the north WELCOME, to the south WELCOME. Just behind the statue are three poplar trees, almost leafless except for the top branches. The statue stands in front of the middle of the tree. All around the grass is wet from the rains of early February.

Are parents morally obligated to send their kids to an orphanage?

I cannot stop thinking about the The State of Things program from January called Rethinking Orphanages. (~48m)

Economist Richard McKenzie shares the conclusion from his survey of ~2,500 orphanage alumni all over the United States:

Orphanage alumni have outpaced their counterparts in the general population by a wide margin on almost every economic and social measure, including education, income, and attitude toward life.

The kids turned out more than alright. Great news...?

No! Not if you fancy yourself as a loving parent trying to ensure the best possible future for your chillens. I will explain what I mean in a minute. First, consider the implications:

1. Nurture matters. I had been convinced of the somewhat comforting idea that nature matters much more than nurture -- meaning that beyond the basic essentials of love and care, your job as a parent is mostly over after the point of conception. There is evidence for this view based on studies of twins reared apart, but these studies are with the twins raised in different nuclear families, not one raised in a nuclear family and the other in an orphanage. If there truly is this big of a difference in outcomes between the general population and orphans (who, if we can bypass political correctness for a moment, are often at a disadvantage genetically speaking) nurture matters much more than I previously thought.

2. Nurture matters in a way that opposes nature. I think one of the main reasons orphanages are unpopular is because they seem ... "unnatural". No species that I am aware of raises their young in anything resembling a group home. All mothers, particularly the mammalian variety, possess the potential for incredible maternal wrath, and only the greatest of all fools would dare provoke said wrath by saying to the mother "here, let me escort your precious cargo away from you, to a home far away, where your children will be raised by a loving stranger along with 35 other random kids."

3. Nurture matters, but parents still don't. According to McKenzie, kids' closest bonds in an orphanage are not with the adults but with the other kids. In a sense, they raise each other. It is not clear why orphanages have better outcomes (you could hypothesize that it's the social training that comes with a high number of kids, or the added responsibility, or the knowledge/skills of the child psychologists), but it seems clear the benefits are not being driven by superior parental attention.

4. Orphanages strictly dominate nuclear families. Well, not always. Certainly some parents do better than some orphanages. But on average a child in an orphanage can be raised both with substantially lower costs and substantially higher benefits(!). Parenting, then, is woefully inefficient!

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Before I get into the moral problem, I should note that, while applying logic and reasoning to moral quandaries is fun, it is of little practical use because our morality is guided by our emotions and our unconscious mind, not our logic.

The moral dilemma:
Take it as given that raising a child in a traditional family has both higher costs and lower benefits than raising a child by some other method, like an orphanage. Are you then morally obligated to give up your tots? Is your own selfish desire to raise a child a good enough reason to deny a human being better outcomes?

On the one hand, people -- including parents -- all have their own genetic advantages and disadvantages and it would be mighty Hitler-esque to deny anyone for these reasons the right to reproduce or the right to parent.

Counterpoint (yes, I'm arguing with myself): Settle down, dude. Don't invoke Hitler and eugenics for no reason. We are talking about morality on an individual level, not a policy level. If one knowingly, deliberately denies a human being better outcomes for selfish reasons, that's wrong, isn't it? Just as it would be wrong to refuse to read to your kids or hug them, so it would be wrong to deny them of being raised in a setting with a higher probability of better outcomes.

Counterpoint to counterpoint: You have to consider the kids' interests too. Very few kids are going to want to leave their family even if you tell them they are likely to be happier and richer when they grow up.

Counterpoint x3: Sure, most kids won't beg for an orphanage just like they won't beg for vegetables. As we've established, nurture matters in ways that oppose nature. It's an evolutionary fluke. There's no reason to blindly follow our antiquated genetic program when we know better outcomes follow when we oppose our evolutionary instincts.

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My tentative conclusion is that, from a utilitarian point of view, parents should send their kids to an orphanage (assuming orphanages do have a higher probability of better outcomes), but that does not mean I would ever consider doing so with my own (future) tots.

(This moral dilemma, by the way, is quite similar to that of genetic engineering.)

Best uses of my time this week

Roughly in order...

Jonathan Haidt's book The Happiness Hypothesis (The title is misleading -- it is not just about happiness. It is one of the densest sources of wisdom I've encountered.)

Learning about Ben Franklin's 13 virtues table (will incorporate something similar into my self-tracking spreadsheet).

Hanging out with my family around the fire pit.

Reflecting on how to judge whether something is a waste of talent.

Radiolab podcast on human limits.

Dan Ariely's post Creating God in Our Own Image.

A productive talk with the lady about expectations.

Writing a post on orphanages (upcoming).

Colin Marshall interviews Seth Godin.

Bloggingheads Paul Bloom and Joshua Knobe.

EconTalk with Arthur De Vany. Especially the second half about evolutionary diet and fitness.

Brain Science podcast on consciousness.

Alain de Botton's book Status Anxiety.

The idea that over half of all research is wrong.

Reviewing old notes.

Comparing the speed of an average dude to pro football players [video]

I have always wanted to see something like this.



Video from the NFL Combine. (Hat tip: Kottke)

Now, just add Usain Bolt and I will be satisfied.

Congratulations to Duke and Oklahoma State

To Duke for winning the NCAA Tournament, and to Oklahoma State for losing it.

I could not decide who to pull for tonight. I like Duke in part because we share enemies and in part because we share the same "cozy" (real estate word) city. Duke is kind of an island in the city of Durham, though -- most Durham residents are UNC fans. I have a fondness for the campus and its neo-gothic architecture, its incredible gardens (see: grainy pictures from when it snowed), tasty fare, and wonderful little art museum. I love that Duke still plays in tiny Cameron Indoor. I admire Coach K and was impressed by his book Leading with Heart. (Charlie Rose had an excellent 33 minute interview with Coach K a few days ago.) I am even considering applying there for graduate school.

With all this, though, my emotional brain could not resist pulling for the baby-faced Butlers. It would have been such a great story.

At least as an NC State alumnus I can claim with pride that "we" beat the National Champs. (One of the few conference games we won.) Go Pack...?

Squibs

It is only by questions that you begin to see there is an answer you might find.

Sometimes the more consciously we think about a decision, the worse the decision made. What helps is a period of unconscious thought. Just like conscious thought, unconscious thought is an active, goal-oriented process. The primary difference is that, in unconscious thought, the usual biases are absent and we weigh the importance of the components more equally. So sleep on it.

Politeness is almost by definition about limiting risks, so politeness and civility come at the expense of bonding and intimacy.

If Dan Buettner is right, then diet and exercise and all the things we do for our health are trivial compared to the life expectancy gains (4-14 years) of finding a purpose.

Does "why am I here?" have to mesh with "why are we here?" I don't think so. To the latter question I have no earthly idea, but to the former, I'm learning.

Meetings are for (1) making decisions, (2) sharing info, or (3) generating ideas. Don't confuse the three.

Taking notes can improve recall by up to six times.

By far the world's most wasted resource is talent. People are a marvel of unknown and unrealized possibilities.

"Writing can only be as good as the thinking that precedes it. Thinking is only as good as the writing that explains it."

Three maxims of writing:
1. No one wants to read your shit.
2. Almost no one will read all of it.
3. Almost everyone will misunderstand some part of it.

Do not confuse what you have learned with what you have experienced. (E.g., I 'learned' what it's like to be a blogger.)

In order of desirability: (1) success, (2) failure, (3) neither. -Sir Colin Marshall

A History of the Sky

I love this project. Visit the link and scroll down to the second video for a grid of 126 time-lapse movies, each showing the sky on a different day. (Also on YouTube.)

(Hat tip: Mark Larson's Tumblr)

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Possibly related:
Recent evidence suggests that bacteria in clouds may have evolved the ability to make it rain as a way of dispersing themselves around the globe. (Hat tip: Kottke)

Day jobs and working methods of famous writers

Both come from the lovely charts and graphs collection of Lapham's Quarterly. (Hat tip: Mark Larson)