Heisenberg’s Uncertainty What?

I like quantum physics. I’m not a physics major, and I don’t know any of the math involved, but that hasn’t stopped me so far from learning about the concepts. I find the ideas to be fascinating looks into the way our universe operates. Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle  was brought up in class as a marker in the transition from classical, Newtonian physics to the modern physics we love and confuse people with today.

Don’t give up! I know many people will want to because I said things like Heisenberg and quantum. But you can do this, and it’s good food for thought. Also it’s a handy way to impress dates. (Okay, so that last part isn’t true. Physicists aren’t known for their love lives.)

This is even going to relate to class by the time I’m through. Here’s a cool youtube video to explain Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle:

So essentially, science proved a limit to what science can do. We can know an electron’s position and we can know its momentum, but not both at the same time. And the more we know of one, the less we can be certain about the other.
In my previous blog post I wrote about a shift from a modern to a postmodern attitude in the way people interact with computers. They have changed from machines we command, to simulated worlds we explore and utilize without really knowing what’s going on inside them.

This breakthrough by Heisenberg is a tremendous shift in thought for science.Since the 1600s science had been finding more and more order in the world, making it more predictable. Quantum physics, on the other hand, says, it’s a crazy, crazy world down there among the atoms.

It makes me wonder about the larger world. Is there more unpredictability in the mechanics of nature an society than we usually think? How about the Internet? If we can recognize it, we actually gain more mastery over the world than if we pretend to understand things when we actually do not.

What about postmodern politics, could that be a step forward? We live in a political climate in which parties are polarized, each certain that their philosophy makes order out of the U.S. economy. The economy seems pretty chaotic and unpredictable to me sometimes. How can they be so sure they understand it?

I’m not advocating giving up the attempt to manage the economy well. To me postmodernism is about finding strength in recognizing what you don’t know or can’t know, and doing the best you can under the circumstances.

We’re Gonna Compute Like It’s 1995

One of the textbooks I was assigned to read is Life on the Screen, by Dr. Sherry Turkle. She’s a psychotherapist and taught at MIT for twenty years, so she’s uniquely prepared at address the subject. I began reading it, interested to learn if (and if yes, then to what degree) computers were sucking out my soul.

Near the beginning of the book she describes the psychology involved in playing online multiplayer games. I’m with you, Dr. Turkle, I think to myself. World of Warcrft, I expect her to say next. But no, the games she begins describing are TEXT-BASED. Incredulous, I turned to the front of my ebook. Copyright 1995?

I couldn’t believe a textbook involving computers that was printed 12 years ago could still be relevant. Fortunately I decided to press on, and was rewarded to see that Turkle had identified important insights that have actually become more relevant. (She accurately saw the direction computer dedvelopment was going.)

Here’s a point of hers that I found interesting:

 From the days of Babbage’s analytical engine and into the 1980s people had viewed computers with the philosophy of modernism. By modernism she means that assumption the Western world has had since the Renaissance that everything in the universe (and certainly our world) can be categorized, broken into its component parts, and fully understood if studied properly. The world was a system of gears, pulleys, and levers waiting to be discovered, cataloged, and manipulated.

But eventually we abandoned this straitforward, no-nonsense approach to computing for the idea of a simulated world in our computer. Apple introduced the desktop, a virtual space that allowed someone to interact with the computer as if it were a little world instead of a big calculator that prompted you to type in commands. We tried to see how real we could make computers. We built networks that allowed people to interact with each other(as their real selves or not.) We don’t think about the 1’s and 0’s that snake through our every digital move. To summarize, we developed a postmodern outlook about the whole thing. We recognize that we’re in a world that escapes perfect definition, that has characteristics we don’t understand, that often gives us more questions than answers. And that’s okay. We don’t need to understand it perfectly to use it from day to day. In that way, the computer is like life itself, which we live each day without fully understanding its characteristics, meanings, or potential.

The modern/postmodern philosophies are new to me. So is the way Turkle describes our interactions with computers. But I think there’s merit to this line of thinking and I’m glad to keep reading her book. Even if all the old school computer lingo she uses has me dreading that my ebook will start telling me things like, “You’ve got mail!” 

Forget Answers; I Want Questions

Lately I find myself reading for the sake of obtaining information. This appears to be a good idea, but in fact, I suspect it is not the most effective way to gain wisdom and knowledge. There is an abundance of accessible information in the world. Finding answers isn’t the hard part, asking good questions is.

Here’s an example. Right now one of the books I’m reading (I usually read about three at a time, cycling between them on whims) is Homage to Catalonia by George Orwell. It’s a non-fiction book about Orwell’s experience as a volunteer fighter in the Spanish Civil War/Attempted Revolution of the 1930s. Why am I reading it? Because the National Review listed it as one of the 10 best nonfiction books of the century and it’s less than 200 pages, so I figured I could finish it quickly. The book could have been about nearly anything and I would have read it if it met those two criteria (another factor is that I obtained it deeply discounted as a discontinued textbook.) I didn’t even know that Spain had had a civil war ever. I just figured whatever I learned reading this book would be useful to me.

I am right about that, I think. What I learn will be useful. And I find the book mildly interesting. But I can’t escape the suspicion that I would be better off using what I already know to ask pointed questions about the world, or really, any subject. I could find sources with with to research the answer easily, and my reading would have more purpose. My current process is passive; the questioning process requires activity and effort. (Both, of course, are better than watching TV all day, so I can feel good about that.)

Honestly, I find it very difficult to posit questions. Either I already know the answer or I doubt the answer exists in any definite sense. I recognize that this is an absurdly proud view. I have an understanding of the world that I am pleased with, and it’s hard to motivate myself to add more detail to it. I invite readers to contribute their sympathies, advice, humorous personal stories, or scolding on this subject, because I need a little help.

I read an address given by Elder David A. Bednar at a regional conferece in which he expounds Mosiah 3:19. He teaches that the Atonement is designed to help us “put off the natural man” and “become a saint” and that the two terms are not the same thing. To put off the natural man is simply to “Stop doing bad stuff!” while becoming a saint involves increasing our ability to do good things beyond our natural capacity through the help of the Atonement of Christ the Lord. I will seek that grace for help becoming more inquisitive and having faith that questions I do consider can actually be answered–and will be–as I sustain a studious effort.

Feature Writing’s Place in Journalism

A recent cover of the New York Times sports section attracted my attention immediately. The page was almost completely blank, and there was a small photograph of a bloodied hockey player’s face and with the title Derek Boogard: Blood on the Ice. The years of Boogard’s birth and death (2011) were also given. The article that followed was the second in a three part feature by John Branch that told a sobering story about the lives of NHL enforcers using Derek “The Boogeyman” Boogard as a case study.

What made this article news? It wasn’t the timeliness of it because Boogard passed away more than six months prior to the article’s publication. It didn’t appear relevant to most of the NYT’s audience (will all the hockey fans in the room please stand up?) But I found the article fascinating; in fact, it made a strong impression on me. I felt like I saw for the first time the tumult that professional athletes can live in, especially in a sport as violent as hockey. Did you know that NHL teams keep an “enforcer” on their roster just to send onto the ice to fight the other team’s enforcer to settle scores between teams and avenge cheap shots against star players? Neither did I. It sounded exciting. But then Branch describes Boogard’s right hand, which was a mangled plump of flesh during his later years after years of getting it cut up and his knuckles broken and all out of place during fight after fight. Branch also describes the head trauma associated with such a lifestyle and that reminded me of Muhammed Ali’s later years, when he had an ever-present tremor in him and could barely talk.

Why did the article mean so much to me? My guesses are that once Branch grabbed my attention he made good use of it. He helped me understand the very interesting life of Derek Boogard to the point that I felt compassion for him. Furthermore, the difficult demands on a hockey enforcer began to sound similar to demands that I feel in my own life or see in others (not exactly the same, of course.) What was the news in this piece of journalism? Maybe the humanity of professional hockey’s most fearsome players. Maybe guilt, felt in our gut as we realize that our society (myself sometimes included) takes pleasure in watching others engage in extreme, often violent, behavior, leaving them to sort out the leftover wreckage in their life on their own. It was uncomfortable to understand, but I also feel like I’m better of for knowing; perhaps that’s the niche and value of feature writing in journalism.

Inaugural Post

Hello Journalism 239 readers, welcome to my blog about journalism principles. In another class–well, it seems like ALL of my classes–I am studying mass digital communication more generally, so this blog is where I’ll record my thoughts and questions about how those things relate to the journalism industry specifically. Also, I’ll respond to New York Times articles here.

So the Daily Universe is going to be a weekly print publication and move the rest of their operations online. Obviously they should consider renaming the paper (at least the print edition) since it’s only a daily publication online and on weekdays. I understand that BYU let a couple faculty members go as a part of the change-up. I’m sorry to hear of the loss of their jobs, that’s a tough thing to go through. The move reminds me of an article in The Atlantic that included and estimate that an online-only version of the NYT woul only generate enough revenue to support 20 percent of their current staff. Journalism needs to get leaner and meaner in our world of converging media, but like the author of that article, I believe there will be survivors in the industry and that they will be the masterful writers with a specialization and that they (and their publications) will be adept collaborators.

Hello Digital Civilization community. I’m Gabriel, but you can call me Gabe. I’m a late addition to this class, but glad to be here nonetheless. Ariel–we go way back–got me interested in this class. I’m not always certain that much of what people post on their blogs is worth anyone’s time (it is so precious.) But I readily acknowledge that there are some posts that are valuable additions to the potion of humanity that they reach. I am not certain that my own posts will be worth your reading, but I they may well be. Uncertainty is before us. Anyway, I’m not the one in charge of your time. I’m just going to throw what I’ve got into our conversations and see what happens.

So, the 17th century…Good times. I don’t know much about it specifically off of the top of my head.

So after a brief refresher by Wikipedia’s 17th Century page, I still feel fairly uninformed about the subject. Colonization of the Americas–that was big. The North American colonies that would become the United States of America are a hopeful element In bitter contrast is the exponential expansion of the slave trade. It was bad in North America but nowhere near as bad as the South American mining outfits. Some great thinkers came during the 1700s. Sir Isaac Newton’s laws of physics and articulation of the influence of gravity were, of course, scientific breakthroughs on a grand scale. Only within the last century–with the studies done in modern physics–are we beginning to see holes in his principles.

Control. That’s my digital studies topic. It’s a “tale as old as time” [thank you, Disney, for this great phrase.] After all, the issue of who’s in control (agency) a central part of the War in Heaven, a war that continues in our lives today? But more directly, the issue of digital control appears to be the biggest–or second biggest, after hacking and other forms of digital sabotage–threat to the infrastructure of the Internet. Already lawmakers have displayed an unsettling willingness to barrel into digital rights issues (specifically whether producers or consumers control online content) with guns blazing at the encouragement of big media lobbyists. SOPA, an act Congress is considering, represents a futile attempt to solve control issues using ineffective means which will have many bad consequences, such as making U.S. based web sites less competitive internationally. Also, from time to time enterprising businessmen suggest the idea of dividing Internet traffic into a (over-simplified terminology warning) slow lane and a fast lane, leaving the faster connection rates for those who will pay for it. I don’t know how much of a real threat it is.

There is no question that producers of media and data need some protection of their work. Wikileaks is an example of the “ultimate freedom for consumers” mantra carried to damaging extremes. And it’s wrong to steal the hard-earned creations of our generation’s great songwriters and filmmakers. Perhaps the most promising developments come from creative business models like Spotify and Pandora. These services are getting royalty money into producers’ hands while providing the free content consumers demand (and can have illegally instantly). That helps the music industry, but there’s no such software poised to provide the same service to filmmakers. YouTube enjoys a monoploy as the web’s free video collection, and since recent court disputes with Viacom and others have gone their way, their hegemony is unlikely to end anytime soon.

An Unfortunate Astronaut and Good Conversations

If I kept a list of my favorite things, somewhere alongside mashed potatoes and Calvin and Hobbes would be “good conversation.” This should be distinguished from common conversation—and especially lame conversation—which are sometimes necessary in the comings and goings of life, but are not satisfying. To enjoy a good conversation requires things like time, focus, and an equally engaged and interesting person. Why these conversations are so satisfying is a little mysterious, but I will nonetheless attempt a small relativity analogy (lucky you!)

Imagine an astronaut in his big suit out working on a space station. He is tethered to the ship by a cable, of course, so he won’t drift away into space. But imagine that the cable comes unhooked, and he does drift away into space. (I have often thought this would be a terrible way to die.) On and on, the spaceman drifts until he cannot see anything around him except stars that all look the same.

 

This is pretty close to a state of no relativity. If the astronaut got disoriented and asked himself which direction he had drifted from, he would have no way to tell. He has no reference points. Any direction he drifts, any way he spins, it doesn’t mean anything. There is no up or down anymore.

Just as objects need a point of reference in order for to have meaningful motion, human beings need to have relationships in order for our experiences and emotions to have their full significance. Conversations are one of our most basic means of relating to other people, so when our conversation with someone else is personal and rich, we feel more connected to them. We feel more appreciated ourselves. We are more alive.

I mentioned that time is a requirement for a good conversation. Some say time is our most important resource, and I believe it. When you demonstrate to someone that you are glad to give them some of your time, it shows that you value them. It makes them more willing to talk about their real thoughts and feelings.

Perhaps the hardest requirement is focus. Can’t we all tell when someone is pretending they’re listening but they really have something else on their mind? Yes we can. And don’t we all think it’s annoying? Yes, we do. Listening is an important part of focusing—even though doing so seems to grate against all of our natural inclinations.

As far as the other person being interesting to talk to goes, a lot of that is out of our control. A lot of it isn’t though. I would elaborate if this was an essay I was writing for class, but since this is only a blog post and I’m tired, I’m going to stop here. You’ll have to sort out the mystery of what I meant yourself, I guess.

I will say that I got thinking about this subject because twice in the last few days, I dropped by a few people’s apartments to do something brief and simple (like return some scissors) and ended up having fairly long conversations that were a highlight of my day. So there you go, an unexpected “favorite thing.”