Earth-quakes & Human Reaction

In continuation of yesterday's theme, here's Seth Godin pithy take on what our reaction to earth-shaking events says about us:

1. The first thing that happens after we encounter an earthquake is to wonder if anyone else felt it. The need for group validation is widespread and happens for events that don't involve earthquakes as well.

If those in the tribe feel something, we're likely to as well. That's why people look around before they stand up to offer an ovation at the end of a concert. Why should it matter if any of these strangers felt the way you did about the event? Because it does. A lot. Social proof matters.

2. Organizations are busy evacuating buildings, even national monuments. Even though experience indicates that the most dangerous thing you can do is have tens of thousands of people run down the stairs, cram into the elevators and stand in the streets, we do it anyway. Why? Because people like to do something. Action, even ineffective action, is something societies seek out during times of uncertainty.

Is it just me or is this actually a good description for what's happening in India right now?

Dirty Window

Released in 2003, Metallica's St. Anger was their biggest commercial failure in years. The sounds were intense. It creates an intense mood and there's no escaping it through the length of the album.

Yet, there are parts of it that I keep going back to. Like Hammet's brilliant solo in Invisible Kid around 0:44. Or All Within My Hands, where Hetfield's vocals waver between steady purposefulness and demonic full-throatedness.

I was listening to Dirty Window today and, for the first time, the lyrics made sense to me.

I see my reflection in the window
This window clean inside, dirty on the out
I'm looking different than me
This house is clean babe!
This house is clean

Am I who I think I am?
Am I who I think I am?
Oh, Am I who I think I am?
I look out my window and see it's gone wrong
My court is in session and now I slam my gavel down!

I'm judge and I'm jury and I'm executioner too
I'm judge and I'm jury and I'm executioner too

Projector, Protector, Rejector, Infector
Projector, Rejector, Infector
Injector, Defector, Rejector

I drink from the cup of denial
I'm judging the world from my throne
I drink from the cup of denial
I'm judging the world from my throne

It fits well with the political mood in India at the moment. Maybe this was the song's intended context. Some of us are protesting on the streets against the crippling corruption thrust upon us by the state. But we have given little thought to our personal deviations.

We seek instant solutions, not the nuances of our constitution. And we have little patience for moderate views on the subject of corruption. This is an extraordinary time for India where sides are been chosen like never before.

My own over-the-top response to this impatience — especially on Team Anna's part — was this image.



Let me explain my stand with a simple metaphor.

When people get sick, they go to a doctor. They get treatment but also seek precautionary advice about diet, hygiene, exercise, etc to avoid falling sick again.

The philosophy of the JLP Bill is that if one is sick (read: corrupt), seek treatment but forget about the precautions.

This way, corruption may be spotted, but its root causes will remain. Ultimately, the JLP will align with India's massive bureaucracy and make corruption worse. I hope this doesn't happen in my lifetime. I don't want to be around to say I told you so.

The Guide on People

It is known that there are an infinite number of worlds, simply because there is an infinite amount of space for them to be in. However, not every one of them is inhabited. Therefore, there must be a finite number of inhabited worlds. Any finite number divided by infinity is as near to nothing as makes no odds, so the average population of all the planets in the Universe can be said to be zero. From this it follows that the population of the whole Universe is also zero, and that any people you may meet from time to time are merely the products of a deranged imagination.

On censoring India's news media

Vinod Mehta, the editor of Outlook, had said sometime back that the reader is a nice hypocrite. And he's right. We criticise our papers and channels for their journalistic standards, but we don’t do the one thing that would stop these media houses from doing what they do: stop subscribing to them.

The operations of media houses, like any other business houses, are largely dictated by subscriber demand. Had the subscriber demanded greater journalistic integrity, he would have got it. He didn’t. He chose to watch the tamasha – the cat stuck on the rooftop, or the man holding a gun to his own head — but insisted, as he watched, that this programming is rubbish.

Hence, it’s dangerous when the same people ask the government to regulate the news media. Regulation won’t solve a thing. It would only feed more power into the hands of the government to keep critical information away from the public. I’d agree that self-regulation is a way forward, but state-endorsed censorship would prove disastrous.

I agree with Vir Sanghvi’s thoughts in the recent edition of his column, Counterpoint.

One of my concerns is that we have lost sight of the distinction between ‘bad’ and ‘unethical’. You may not like my articles. You may think I write badly. You may not think much of the HT as a whole, even.

...

The recourse available to you is not legal; it is commercial. Stop buying the HT. Or at any rate, stop reading me. But you cannot demand a ban on me or the paper because you think my articles are crap, or because if I pontificate too much.

It’s the same with TV. To say — as I do — that the channels did not cover themselves with glory is not to say that therefore, they should be censored or banned.

It is plain commerce. Why is it so hard to understand in a country that's known to be good at trade?

The Hitchhiker's Guide, Flying, And Success

In Douglas Adams' brilliant book, The Hitchhiker's Guide to The Galaxy, there's this wonderful definition of the art of flying.

There is an art, it says, or, rather, a knack to flying. The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss. Pick a nice day, it suggests, and try it.

It says that trick is to miss the ground in such a way that you don't notice you've missed it.

One problem is that you have to miss the ground accidentally. It's no good deliberately intending to miss the ground because you won't. You have to have your attention suddenly distracted by something [...] by, say, a gorgeous pair of legs (tentacles, pseudopodia, according to phyllum and/or personal inclination) or a bomb going off in your vicinity, or by suddenly spotting an extremely rare species of beetle crawling along a nearby twig, then in your astonishment you will miss the ground completely and remain bobbing just a few inches above it in what might seem to be a slightly foolish manner.

I think that's true about success too. The harder I try to get it, the more it eludes me. But when I stop trying too hard, I find it, almost accidentally, each time.

Niranjan Shah on Tehelka

This is priceless.

Q: For the sake of argument, what is the more important criterion for selection: performance or rotation policy? Would you drop the best performing players for rotation policy?
Shah: Rahul's performance is not there. Lakshman's performance is not there.

I am talking about Ganguly. He has done well.
Shah: Lakshman has done well too.

The last answer even more so:

Q: But why is this rotation policy is not applicable to test cricket?
Shah: Why look at tests, there are domestic tournaments like Ranji Trophy. One day cricket requires a lot of energy, so fielding capability has to be seen, everything has to be seen. But the tests are a real test for cricket players. The tests are very important for every country. We like to be a test winning country and not a one-day winning country. Youngsters need lot of cricketing abilities to stay there for five days. In ODI you may just go in and slog couple of overs, here you have to play for five days. After all, they get to play the long form of cricket in domestic cricket.

The Men Who Stare At Goats

While reading Richard Dawkins' The God Delusion, I came across this memorable excerpt from the book titled above by Jon Ronson. I quote the bit verbatim:

This is a true story. It is the summer of 1983. Major General Albert Stubblebine III is sitting behind his desk in Arlington, Virginia, and he is staring at the wall, upon which hang his numerous military awards. They detail a long and distinguished career. He is the United States Army's chief of intelligence, with sixteen thousand soldiers under his command.

...

He looks past his awards to the wall itself. There is something he must do even though the thought of it frightens him. He thinks about the choice he has to make. He can stay in his office or he can go into the next office. That is his choice. And he has made it. He is going into the next office.

...

He stands up, moves out from behind his desk, and begins to walk. I mean, he thinks, what is the atom mostly made up of anyway? Space! He quickens his pace. What am I mostly made of? He thinks. Atoms! He is almost at a jog now. What is the wall mostly made up of? He thinks. Atoms! All I have to do is merge the spaces.

...

Then General Stubblebine bangs his nose hard on the wall of his office. Damn, he thinks. General Stubblebine is confounded by his continual failure to walk through his wall.