I’m reading The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion by Jonathan Haidt. I loved, loved, loved his earlier book The Happiness Hypothesis, so I’m going to go off topic on this web journal for a while and instead use it as a place to think about Haidt’s ideas.
Haidt’s default political perspective, and he’s up front about this, is liberal atheist. One of the things I enjoy about him as an author is that he’s interested in the research base even when it doesn’t support his intuitions. He seeks disconfirming evidence!
It was interesting to read in his introduction that the word liberal has a different meaning here in the states than it does in Europe, where the meaning is closer to libertarian. Liberal here maps more cleanly to progressive in Europe.
I finished the novel Everybody’s Fool yesterday, by the very talented Richard Russo.
One of the main characters experiences a sort of split personality due to a lightning strike; he splits into a good version and a bad version of himself, not unlike Kirk and Spock in The Enemy Within due to a transporter malfunction.
That parallel to Star Trek didn’t occur to me until late in the book when, within a few pages of each other, Russo sprinkled in a couple of Star Trek references–namely, the split character turns the air conditioning to stun shortly before giving the order to “make it so.” (The latter, of course, is a reference to the wrong era of Star Trek, but never mind.)
Anyway, I’m commenting here because I was too lazy to go back and try and find other Star Trek references and a Google search came up empty. If someone in the future tries the same search maybe they’ll find this page and can add additional references to the comments.
In The Success Equation, Michael J. Mauboussin makes an interesting point about the role of luck in sports. He frames it in a way I hadn’t thought of before. In sports, any win is part skill and part luck. Different sports depend on different ratios of skill to luck.
Any sport that depended entirely on luck would have all teams normally distributed around a .500 winning percentage (for instance, if competitive coin flipping was a sport). If a win were determined entirely by skill, there would be an even distribution across the spectrum of winning percentages–the best player or team would be undefeated, the worst winless, and everyone else distributed throughout based on skill level. Where a sport lies between these two extremes is a measure of how much luck is in play.
Baseball, on this scale, is about one-third luck. Soccer and football are similar, hockey a little more dependent on luck (53%), and basketball far more dependent on skill than luck (12% luck).
The role of luck is dependent in large part on parity. If two players are exactly equal in skill, then by definition luck would determine the outcome. Basketball teams, because they are restricted mostly to very tall people (and the average height has been rising over time), have a much smaller population of potential players, which leads to a higher variance of skill (the larger the pool of potential players, the easier it is to stock teams with players near the upper limit of skill).
Isn’t that interesting?
How can we determine the role of luck in the success of instruction?
I’ve really enjoyed Joss Whedon’s work over the years, especially Firefly and The Avengers, so I’ve found myself recently sucked into Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which I’d never seen and which has interfered with my web journal time.
I just finished the final season. Nice premise for closing the series, but I found the “chosen one” aspect reminiscent of midi-chlorians, with the same problem: why should being a Jedi or a Slayer depend on some preexisting condition that is out of one’s control?
Maybe I’m too influenced by Peak and its critique of humanity’s errant belief that talent trumps deliberate practice.
This is obviously off-topic, but could be helpful for anyone searching on “Yamaha YDP-113 sticky key” in the future (or for me if the keyboard develops another sticky key in the future)–that is, a piano key that reliably goes down, but doesn’t reliably come up again.
Key non-obvious things to know:
- Having the service manual is handy, but instead of the service manual for the YDP-113, you need the service manual for the CLP-110. As far as I can tell, those two models are functionally identical, but the service manual for the CLP-110 includes step-by-step disassembly instructions. The service manual for the YDP-113 only includes lists of parts. I found the CLP-110 service manual here.
- The service manual tells you how to take out the entire keyboard assembly. This isn’t really necessary. You need to take off the top board, the keyboard cover including the key cover assembly, and the “angle Z.” You don’t need to pull the entire keyboard assembly out, and thus don’t have to remove the end block assembly. All you have to do to the keyboard assembly is pull out the 11 screws and push the assembly back a quarter of an inch or so.
- Once you have the keyboard assembly pushed back a bit, here is a helpful video for popping out the keys so you can clean them. He’s got a different model, so the helpful bits don’t start until around 3:15 mark, but the keyboard assembly appears identical so everything after that point is very helpful.
The whole thing only requires a Philips screwdriver and a butter knife, and the only part that requires some experimentation is removal and replacement of the keys. Everything else is very straightforward and spelled out clearly in the service manual.
This is the best day of my life.
Wedding day? Birth of a child? First kiss? What’s so special about today?
All of those were great days, and nothing particularly memorable happened today. I was deliriously happy on my wedding day, but I hadn’t even met my kids yet, and they taught me through their joy and laughter that I could be even happier.
Nothing unusual happened today. But today I have all my memories inside of me. Every day I get to spend time with family, friends, and colleagues, adding more and more richness to my life, making today the best day of my life. Tomorrow will be even better.
“Would you like the full coverage or just the basic insurance?”
“Would you like us to fill it up for you when you bring it back? We charge $3.10 a gallon, which is pretty close to gas station rates right now.”
In a way, I’m impressed with these two questions typically asked when you rent a car. Both questions must be significant revenue generators. Unfortunately, both questions generate revenue by hiding key information.
The first question fails to present the possibility that you can decline the insurance entirely, presenting your options instead as a binary choice.
The second fails to mention that the car rental firm is going to charge you for an entire tank, not just for the number of gallons they add to it. If you bring back a car with seven gallons of gas in an 18 gallon tank, you are going to pay for 18 gallons, not 11.
The way they’ve worded the questions is clever…but dishonest, I think, and an abuse of design.
The idea of presenting a binary choice when there are more options is powerful, and one that’s useful with children (do you want to wear the green shirt or the blue one today?) to prevent choice paralysis and minimize fuss. And I imagine there are instructional design and/or change management possibilities in the false binary choice. The risk with adults, though, is that once they realize you are presenting false choices, they’ll distrust everything you ask them.