Books and literature – Page 29 – a sibilant intake of breath

OxBridge and the future

The two books I am reading most actively right now both make me miss Oxford. They also make me regret the fact that I am not out traveling or working somewhere exciting.

The first book is Simon Winchester’s The Man Who Loved China: The fantastic story of the eccentric scientist who unlocked the mysteries of the Middle Kingdom. I have read several of his books before: one on the Mercator projection, and another on the genesis of the Oxford English Dictionary. While I am only halfway through this latest book, I think it is better than Mercator but worse than OED, though that probably reflects my own interests as much as anything else. In any case, the book conveys a wonderful sense of what was possible for a motivated and intelligent individual in the position of its protagonist: Noel Joseph Terence Montgomery Needham.

The second book is Oliver Morton’s Eating the Sun: How Plants Power the Planet. Evidently, it is largely a study of the nature and history of photosynthesis. The book contains a good summary of early climatic science, with engaging and informative asides on nuclear physics, biochemistry, and much else. It also includes a great many references to life in Cambridge, during the period between the early outbreak and late aftermath of the second world war. It is a period of unusual interest for climatologists, for reasons I described in my barely-remembered thesis. Personally, my impressions of Cambridge are dominated by the music video to Pink Floyd’s “High Hopes” – one of the very few music videos I have ever watched, and one of the handful I have enjoyed.

What they brought to the forefront is that it is possible to be out and doing interesting things (though certainly more challenging if you mean to do it in a low-carbon way). I would certainly be strongly tempted to strike away from Ottawa to more interesting places, once societal dues have been paid. Where or what that would involve, I cannot yet guess.

Three passages from Payback

There are three further elements of Margaret Atwood’s Payback that seem in keeping with the themes of this blog, and the current conversations here. I am not going to comment on them excessively, since I think they provoke enough thinking in themselves.

The first is her list of possible responses to major crises. You can “Protect Yourself, Give Up and Party, Help Others, Blame, Bear Witness, and Go About Your Life.” In the context of climate change, it seems like we are all engaging in a particular combination of these behaviours. It is worth contemplating if it is the right one. She doesn’t really discuss how there is a prisoner’s dilemma at work here. If nobody else addresses problems, protecting yourself or partying are your best options. If you can convince others to cooperate, you can help others and get on with your life.

The second is her description of an international approach to climate change mitigation:

[G]lobal warming has been dealt with at a global summit during which world leaders gave up paranoia, envy, rivalry, power-hunger, greed, and debate over who should start cutting down the carbon footprint first and rolled up their sleeves and got with it.

While that is a very appealing vision for how developed and rapidly developing states might behave, it does seem appropriate to recall that, in many places, the reduction of extreme poverty and insecurity is a more urgent task. Let Canada, China, and the United States learn how to run a zero carbon society, before calling on Sudan or Afghanistan to do so.

The third is a hypothetical response the American president could have given to the September 11th attacks:

We have suffered a grievous loss – a blow has been struck at us that was motivated by an obsessive desire to harm us. We realize that this was the work of a small group of fanatics. Other nations might bomb the stuffing out of the civilian population where those fanatics are at present located, but we recognize the futility of such an action. Nor will we accuse any bystander nation of having been involved. We realize that acts of vengeance recoil upon the heads of the inventors, and we do not wish to perpetuate a chain reaction of revenge. Therefore we will forgive.

The quote is an interesting one. For me, the last sentence somewhat clashes with the rest. It is one thing to say: “We will not take this fight to those who did not start it.” It is quite another to say that we will not respond directly to those who did, while being careful to spare the innocent. While it is on the fringe of what is imaginable that the United States might have responded to Al Qaeda through international cooperation and the vigorous efforts of law enforcement and the courts, it doesn’t seem either moral or believable that they would not respond in some way to those who were directly involved.

Payback: Debt and the Shadow Side of Wealth

This series of lectures, published in book form, shows Margaret Atwood at her lively best. It is reminiscent of James Burke’s series ‘Connections,’ in which he traces a seemingly random path through history, choosing the most interesting and unexpected road at every juncture. In some ways, Atwood’s consideration of debt occurs in an even richer world, since it includes literature, mythology, and religion among the kind of paths that can be followed.

The first section of the book examines debt in a historical and conceptual way: considering different kinds of debt (financial, moral, spiritual, etc) as well as different modes of repayment. It considers the ethics of being a borrower and a lender, as well as the consequences that can arise for those who happen to be near either. Atwood’s examination highlights how lenders can err both in being too harsh on their debtors and in being too stingy with their money – both the vicious loan shark and the penny-pinching miser are culpable. The book discusses revenge as a special form of debt repayment, as well as the complexities that arise when debts are being incurred by states and princes. All this is made quite entertaining by the cleverness of the connections being identified, and the teasing and humorous tone of the narration.

The second section is an exposition of our current state of deep indebtedness, and a recognition that the greatest and most threatening of those debts are ecological. While Atwood’s updated Scrooge story includes asides on the unjustness of the World Bank and IMF, as well as the risks associated with fiat currencies, her primary concern is with the wanton destruction of the natural world that has been accelerating since the industrial revolution. She singles out overfishing, biofuels, deforestation, overpopulation, soil depletion, and climate change as examples, painting a general picture of extreme human recklessness. The redemptive vision is one based around neo-hippie victory: renewable power, an international agreement to stop climate change, and organic food for all.

The concluding story feels a bit trite, really. Any corporate baron paying the slightest bit of attention would already be jaded about the messages from the ghosts Atwood’s Scrooge Nouveau receives. That said, and while the literary merits of the first section exceed those of the second, it is appealing that this is a book of action as well as contemplation. It is hard not to agree with the thrust of Atwood’s argument. By all means, let’s increase the fairness of the global financial system and curb humanity’s self-destructive ways. This book contributes to that project by provoking a great deal of thought about the symbolism and meanings of debt. We will need to look beyond it for concrete ideas about how to overthrow or convert those who favour the status quo and thus bring about a sustainable (appropriately indebted) new order.

I say ‘appropriately indebted’ because the book makes a strong case that we can never really be out of debt. As social entities, there are always tallies of obligation between us, and nobody can ever be said to be sitting perfectly at the balance point of these transactions. Indeed, given the way they are denominated in different currencies (honour, favours, wealth), seeking such an outcome is hopeless. What we can attain is the position of borrowing and lending rightly, with forgiveness and an awareness and concern about the consequences for those around us and the wider world.

In any case, the book is highly topical, informative, and makes for a quick and rewarding read. It is telling that, while other books have been sitting around my apartment for months, I received this one in the mail yesterday and finished it today.

Dreams from My Father

For those hoping to gain an understanding of the life and thinking of Barack Obama, his first book is probably a better resource than his second. Given his new position of power, it is impossible to read Dreams from My Father while thinking more about the ideas than about the man expressing them. While reading the full story certainly provides a grit and nuance that is lacking in the campaign speech version of Obama’s autobiography, the book doesn’t take the reader up to the present day. Both chronologically and conceptually, it leaves a big gap between Obama’s decision to leave Chicago for law school (after visiting Kenya) and his subsequent political ascension.

The major topics covered in this book are Obama’s family history and the development of his views on class and race. There are hints about the emergence of his personal politics and religiosity, but those are definitely not the major thrust of the account. All told, the book is best understood as a description of the process through which Obama answered key questions about himself, thus leaving him in a position to move forward with that foundation under him. Actually, the book doesn’t even go that far; it leaves the reader with the sense that Obama has collected the basic materials for that foundation, but ends before giving a clear image of the shape and structure that it will ultimately have.

One unescapable question that arises from the book is whether the author has an essentially perfect memory, or whether he was willing to take considerable liberties in describing his thoughts and conversations. The introduction makes it clear that this was not the book he originally set out to write, and that he didn’t have voluminous primary source recordings to draw upon. That produces the major question of just how accurate and complete an account this really is.

It will be very interesting to see the expansion of this biography, both by outside scrutineers and Obama himself, once his time as president has come and gone and his attentions have turned to other things.

Book on communicating climate science

Over at RealClimate, they are encouraging people to read a free book on communicating climate science: Communicating on Climate Change: An Essential Resource for Journalists, Scientists, and Educators. It was written by Bud Ward for the Metcalf Institute for Marine and Environmental Reporting. It is available online as a PDF, and printed copies are available by mail for US$8.00.

Given how much public communication on climate change is of low quality, we should hope that good books on this topic get the attention of authors and editors.

The Name of The Rose

[Image removed at the request of a subject (2019-10-01)]

Umberto Eco’s The Name of The Rose reminded me of both An Instance of the Fingerpost and My Name is Red – the former largely because of how multiple perspectives were employed, and the latter on account of the character of the mystery. All are historical fiction, as well as murder mysteries. All involve the question of which unsympathetic suspect is a murderer. In one form or another, all involve theological disputes. In the end, I found them all reasonably compelling as narratives, but not especially interesting insofar as the major topic under dispute was concerned. Particularly in the case of Red and Eco’s book, the motivations of the murderer turned out to be of fairly marginal interest.

The most interesting aspects of the novel are those concerning the politics of the church and the middle ages, as well as the sections about empiricism and investigation. The more tiresome sections include references to the history of the period insufficiently detailed to make much sense to those not already educated about the middle ages. All told, this is the kind of book best suited to someone with a pre-existing interest and base of knowledge around the time period in question, rather than someone who wandered into it by chance. One well designed element of the story is the ironic contrast between the perceptions of the narrating character (both in reminiscence and during the action), the other characters, and the reader’s own perceptions about some of the issues in question. The sometimes naive observations of the narrator as a young novice are a good mechanism for inducing critical thought.

One annoying choice Eco made was including many untranslated passages in French, German, Latin, and Italian. While I can see what a delight it would be for polyglots to experience these sections in the intended tongue, would it really have been unacceptable to add translations in footnotes or endnotes? Hardly anybody is going to work their way through a Latin-English dictionary word-by-word every couple of pages.

In any case, the mystery itself is well structured and the book well written. Those with a particular interest in the time-place set will probably find it gratifying.

The science section at the Rideau Chapters

The science section at the Rideau Centre Chapters always depresses me. It is often the most disorganized section of the store – tucked, as it is, in the very back corner. Books have frequently been relocated by customers and not re-shelved by staff, and the organizational system is deeply flawed even when properly implemented. For one thing, it has too many confusing sub-sections. It hardly makes sense to have a single shelf set aside for ‘physics’ books, when it is almost impossible to guess whether a specific tome will be in ‘physics,’ ‘mathematics,’ or the catch-all ‘science’ category. To top it all off, the catch-all category has been alphabetized in a bewildering serpent pattern, twisted back against itself and interrupted with random intrusions.

My two final gripes are that the science section is mysteriously co-mingled with the section on pet care (our most sophisticated form of understanding about the universe, lumped in with poodle grooming) and that the science section contains so many books of very dubious scientific merit, such as paranoid and groundless exposes on how MMR vaccines supposedly cause autism (they don’t, though they have saved countless infant lives).

While commercial pressures may legitimately dictate that the pilates section be more accessible, better organized, and more well-trafficked than the physics or biology sections, it is nonetheless saddening.

Prose ‘translation’ of Paradise Lost

One of the best courses I took at UBC was an Honours Milton course I begged my way into, despite being an international relations major. The instructor was Dennis Danielson: a man extremely knowledgeable and passionate about Milton. The best part of the course was definitely portraying Satan in a spoken rendition of Book II of Paradise Lost.

Recently, Dennis Danielson (D^2 henceforth) released a prose ‘translation’ of the poem, hoping to make it more accessible. It includes the original text side-by-side with his interpretation.

It has been added to my lengthy ‘to read’ list, and I recommend that others with an interest in Milton, literature, or theology consider having a look as well.

Video on copyright in Canada

Why Copyright? Canadian Voices on Copyright Law is a 50 minute film about copyright in Canada, produced by Michael Geist and Daniel Albahary. It is largely a response to the Conservative government’s deeply problematic proposed copyright legislation.

Equitable copyright laws are an important issue. In the first instance, that is due to the overwhelming importance of information, who controls it, and who can do what with it. Secondly, it has to do with societal decisions about what kind of conduct is acceptable, who enforces the rules, and what the consequences for violating them can legitimately be. Rules on when technical means of copyright enforcement can be legitimately circumvented are especially important, since that is a new sort of right potentially being extended to content owners. As such, the balance between the societal interest of fair use and the content owner’s claim to protection needs to be evaluated in a more profound way than has occurred so far.

As with many of the new developments on this issue, I found out about it through BoingBoing.

What Do You Care What Other People Think

This sequel to Richard Feynman’s Surely You’re Joking covers some of the same ground as the prior book, though it is focused on the inquiry conducted after the Challenger space shuttle disaster. The book includes an appendix to that report, written by Feynman exclusively. Apparently, he was going to remove his name from the findings on account of his section being censored. Eventually, they printed something largely identical to his final copy.

As he explains it, the solid rocket booster failure that destroyed Challenger was largely the result of disjointed and poor communication between layers of administration at NASA and its supplier companies. The statistical modeling of the behaviour of the O-rings in the boosters was very poorly done. Information on the vulnerabilities of the shuttle either did not reach the most senior levels or was paid insufficient heed there. In any case, it seems likely that even if cold weather and design problems hadn’t caused this specific failure, something would have eventually gone wrong anyhow. For example, Feynman describes in detail some technical and procedural issues associated with the main engines. Such problems are not really surprising, given the overall complexity of the vehicle, the ‘top-down’ manner in which it was constructed (designing whole systems before testing individual components), and its fundamentally experimental nature. That being said, Feynman’s assessment probably has continuing relevance for other projects with similar associated risks and management structures. In particular, the contrast he draws between the strong protocols used in programming the shuttle’s computer – as compared with the protocols for sensors and engines – demonstrates that it is possible to do things well, provided sufficient attention and resources are devoted to the task.

Overall, the previous book is more entertaining and shows more of Feynman’s character. Aside from a section on Feynman’s first marriage, as well as the illness and death of his first wife, this book focuses on the details of Feynman’s investigation, including his famous demonstration with the O-ring and glass of ice water. All told, I found the earlier book more diverse and interesting. This book may be more useful for those whose professional work involves dangerous machines.