Thoughts: "The Outsourced Brain - New York Times"

The Outsourced Brain - New York Times by David Brooks. Read it here.
From the article: "...the magic of the information age is that it allows us to know less. It provides us with external cognitive servants."

I have been thinking a lot about the information age (vs. industrial age) and how technology is extending our minds (as it used to only extend out bodies). This op-ed really catches the essence of the current mind-extending possibilities of technology. Rest assured this is only the beginning... or is it?

Is it just the continuation of a trend that started when the first humans made the first tools?

McLuhan was the first to introduce me to the idea of extensions of ourselves (not personally, of course, but through his book "Understanding Media: the Extensions of Man") I was intrigued by his ideas (example: telephones are extensions of our voices), but it didn't really see technology extending my mind in my everyday life until I became dependent upon my cell phone and google to remember my friends phone numbers and where to find web pages and information that I want.

In the NYTimes op-ed (link above) Brooks claims that this mind-extension is liberating and blissful, but McLuhan often mentions that with extensions of man come amputations. Brooks can no longer navigate without his GPS and he feels zen about it, but what happens when the satellites go down? I am not comfortable with living in a world where I can't function without my tools. To use a historical example: the technology of guns extended mans ability to destroy people/things from afar but it amputated his ability to use a bow and arrow. What if then all the gunpowder ran out? As a pacifist I say all the better, but if people had a need for weapons they'd be screwed. Living in a time of transition from one technology to another this is the risk we face.

I hate to make this argument though because I hear it so often with regard to technology in education. Teachers say things like "why should we bring technology X into the classroom? Shouldn't we just stick with the old way of doing things?" Here is the rub, if you want to extend your mind you sometimes lose (amputate) an older way of doing things. I am sure there is a delicate balance between rushing headlong into adopting new extensions of ourselves and holding steadfast to tired old ways, but it is hard to know where to draw the line, especially within education when we are not only making the decision for ourselves, but for loads of children.

What I need is a good argument to convince educators that some technologies are more beneficial to students than traditional methods, others are not. Considering my argument against Brooks' GPS dependency, maybe I need to first convince myself.

Review of American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tregedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer by Kai Bird and Martin Sherwin.

From beginning to end I was captivated by the story if this enigmatic man, Robert Oppenheimer. He was sometimes arrogant, sometimes naive, and sometimes full of deep wisdom. He was sharp and charismatic to some, though others found him cold. He had a great gift for seeing the big picture and synthesizing ideas, which made him an especially effective leader of the scientists at Los Alamos working on one of the greatest scientific accomplishments of the century, the harnessing of atomic energy and the creation of the atomic bomb. He had to accept responsibility for the terrible destruction that his creation brought to the world but he didn't regret what he had done. At first I didn't understand why, but now I see his wisdom. The science which led to the making of the bomb was being realized by scientists all over the world and it was inevitable that someone was going to make it. In Oppenheimer's case, he felt it was urgent to beat the Nazis to it if they were indeed on track to produce it, which it turns out they really weren't, but he couldn't have known that at the time.

What left me most troubled after reading Oppenheimer's story was not his role in the creation of the bomb, but the way he was treated in the 1950's when his enemies sough to destroy him politically because they didn't agree with his pacifism. Oppenheimer was against the nuclear arms race and especially the creation of the hydrogen bomb, a much more powerful weapon than the atom bomb. The H-bomb couldn't really serve a military purpose, it wasn't even a city destroyer, it would destroy many cities at a time. In Oppenheimer's mind it would be more worthwhile to produce smaller tactical nuclear weapons for combat use, but the republicans in power felt that it would be wiser to instead focus on having the biggest bomb possible, thereby deterring anyone form ever attacking us for fear of total annihilation.

It is true that Oppenheimer had a past worthy of inspection for someone so close to so many national secrets, but despite the fact that no one managed to find him guilty of any crime other than making some "poor decisions" he was still left completely ruined by these accusations. Although the Atomic energy Commission "inquiry" found him totally loyal to America, they decided he was nonetheless a security risk. Why? Because he disagreed about the direction America was headed in foreign policy.

As I read the tactics used by his accusers I was shaken by the realization that nothing they did then couldn't happen today. While I don't want to believe that full scale McCarthy trials could happen in exactly the same way today I think a great scientist or intellectual like Oppenheimer could be taken down privately, the way Oppenheimer was, without justice and in the name of security. This kind of injustice does little to improve security, and even worse, it diminishes the likelihood that we as a society are going to come up with the solutions we need to face tomorrows security challenges because we have disbarred, alienated, or scared off our greatest minds from speaking up when they recognize a problem.

After finishing this book I sat and reflected upon the story and the potential for similar injustices taking place today and I wept. This story must be known by everyone.There is no black and white right and wrong to it, in the end Oppenheimer is not the golden hero, his enemies shamed, instead we are left to reflect upon our past and present actions, as Oppenheimer did his, and accept responsibility for our part in it, whether for good or for evil. Our ability to avoid future disasters depends on our ability to understand this and learn from it.

American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer by Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin. Vintage Books, New York. 2005

Here is a post I made today for my class on learning technologies:

All of the authors (Engelbart, Schank and Cleary, and Valdez) made a distinction between the role that technology currently plays in teaching and learning and the potential role that technology can play. What seems to be of most interest to the bloggers so far is why the potential usefulness of technology in the classroom has not been reached.

Most would agree that teacher competence/comfort with the technology is a primary requirement for the technology to be useful in the classroom, and as Laura added there are other factors, like administrative and tech support that are important too. I want to add one more requirement to the list before moving on: the software has to be well designed.

Something that resonated with me from Schank and Cleary is that the authors admitted to the shamefully poor design of most educational software out there. Granted they were writing in the 90's, but I think that is still the case today. A lot of software is still written from top to bottom with only a vague idea of who the user is going to be. If a teacher (or any user) can't sit down and immediately figure out how to use the software, then the developer has failed. This is my opinion as a software developer, but it is not an uncommon one. My point is that as much as educators (and all users) need to familiarize themselves with new technologies and approach them with a workable attitude, the technologies have to lend themselves to being easily understood. Unless the creators of educational technologies are working together with educators, no progress can be made towards reaching the potential of technology's use in the classroom.

So what is the potential role of technology in the classroom?

Like textbooks, technology can be a source of information. Like pencil and paper technology can be used for creative purposes. To quote form Valdez, "A reasonable conclusion is that classroom computers and other technology can play many instructional roles, from personal tutor and information source to data organizer and communication tool" (from the overview). I think technology is already being used as an information source (web-based research) and a communication tool (email), and maybe as a data organizer (blackboard, excel), but I don't think classroom technologies have yet to reach their potential as personal tutors.

Each student has unique abilities and interests, but it is exceedingly difficult for one person to attend to the varied needs and interests of 30 young minds in the typical classroom. Technology can help, although it will mean changing the way we think about schooling. Something that I think is the most important point that I took from my reading of Engines for Everybody is the need for more student-directed learning, what Schank and Cleary also called natural learning. To summarize Schank and Cleary about natural learning, students learn best when they are the ones choosing what to learn and when. This doesn't mean that kids should be turned loose in the streets, this can happen in a regular classroom with a regular teacher (check out this biology class example).

I would like to further discuss the ways in which technology is or can be used to personalize each student's education.

Eating in the dark

Last night we went to the "Unsicht-bar", or 'the invisible restaurant' as I like to call it now. It is a gourmet restaurant in complete darkness. You come in and look over the very vague menu (they intentionally don't tell you exactly what you will be served) in the light and then are led by your blind or partially-blind server into the dining room, which is completely dark. I don't know where to begin describing the experience; it was like nothing I could've imagined and was hard even at the time to understand how I felt about it. The first thing we all experienced was a brief moment of panic. Our server shut off the light in the dim anteroom and told us to grab on to each others' shoulders like a conga-line. I think the four of us all have some claustrophobic tendencies, and it was rather warm in there, which only made it worse.

Once we were each led to our chairs, it was easier to relax and start to appreciate the environment. We couldn't tell how big the room was, but I heard at least three other tables of people. The music was a little too loud, but I think it helped people feel more comfortable talking and less isolated in the dark. There was a fan somewhere providing a merciful breeze, but it wasn't always blowing in our direction. We had to reach out for each other to have an idea how we were seated. I could hear our friends' voices, and I knew we were at the table together, but it was important to me to know exactly where they were sitting and to touch them.

Once settled we had to fight the tendency to try to see, despite the impossible darkness. My eyes, on their own, were squinting and opening wide, alternating trying to focus on some invisible person or gather as much of any potential light in the room. I also was seeing washes of color and random shapes and even an imaginary table and people around me, as if my mind was using aural and tactile input to create a corresponding virtual image.

As promised by the "Unsicht-bar" website, dining in darkness sharpens the other senses. We smelled the beer coming when our waiter, Andre, wheeled the drink cart up to the table. The food tasted not only gourmet, but wonderfully exotic. My favorite course was actually the salad appetizer plate, probably because it was my first food in the darkness, but also because it was the most diverse plate. I had actual salad, which is to say lettuce with tomatoes and dressing, but also little finger food: olives, nuts, carrots, mushrooms, something with a dollop of something hummus-like on top, some sort of stuffed pepper and a crunchy thing stuffed with something. The best part was when the plate was first placed before me and I could explore with my hands and nose. The first thing I did with each plate was stick my fingers in it. I ate with my hands half of the time---in the dark you don't have to worry about disgusting fellow diners with poor table manners (no slurping or smacking though). I secretly love eating with my hands. I was glad, though, that I had made a point of washing them thoroughly just before we went in.


Time had no meaning in the darkness. We ate at a leisurely pace, chatting about the experience and about unrelated things: traveling, sensory deprivation, New College. Our waiter, Andre, spoke perfect English, which was great because our friends did not speak much German. Andre struck me as a very insightful person, and I can imagine working in the darkness could give you a lot of time to reflect and see life (forgive me) from a different perspective. He was very calming and sensitive to our feelings; I can imagine some people finding the darkness upsetting or having panic-attacks.

I got rather quiet as the second course came along. The warmth and darkness made me feel too relaxed, like I needed to sleep. I wasn't actually tired, but I felt like curling up and sleeping. I felt like everything was going in slow motion, and my thoughts couldn't keep up with the conversation at times. Andre asked what I was thinking about all that time because he hadn't heard form me for awhile. It felt like a dream, I told him, but I wasn't thinking about anything. My mind was slow and blank. I could really forget that people existed at all and imagined the voices were coming directly from pure beings (pure being!) around me, and we were all floating in nothingness. I have never felt so... abstract. I forgot I even had a body, until this made me uncomfortable and gave me a little indigestion. A little ice water helped with that, and cooled me down in the still sweat-inducing room.

My main course was something like fried eggplant with an exotic curry-tomato sauce on top, served with nutty hush puppies and salty carrots. The fried eggplant was too hot to eat with my fingers, so I had to use a fork, which was funny because it is impossible to make an appropriate mouth-sized bite and you don't know it is too big until you try to put it in your mouth so I got a lot of food on my face. I had it easy compared to our friends, though, who had ordered meat and had to cut it with a knife! From what I heard that was no simple task. Dessert was ice cream with strawberry sauce---yum!

Andre told us that he loves traveling to London when he can (hence the good English) and that he would love to travel to the United States except that he is afraid of being thrown into jail and executed on the electric chair or something. I don't think he was really joking. There is a certain impression that foreigners have about our justice system, that it is baffling and irrational, and perhaps even unjust. On the other side though, he had told us when we were conversing earlier in the meal not to apologize for being Americans. We do have to apologize now when abroad, as if to make amends for our president and our war. Otherwise people say, "oh, you are an American... what the hell are you people thinking! Do you know what you have done?" Andre didn't say that, quite the contrary. He gave us a lot to think about.

It was wonderful to share the experience with good friends. Emerging from the darkness was like being born---my body re-materialized and I checked to see if I had spilled any food on my clothes (I hadn't---go me!). We said a warm goodbye to Andre, who had been our trusted guide and provider through the darkness and culinary delights. The meal lasted at least 3 hours, which Andre said was longer than the average, but I had no sense of how long it was; it felt like an eternity and no time at all.

Here is their website (German only): www.unsicht-bar.de

NASA's first (and last) artist in residence

Thomas and I went to a concert last night here in Cologne--It was so toll! Laurie Anderson was invited in 2003 to be NASA's first (and last) artist in residence, and this piece "The End of the Moon" is her official final project for NASA.

What the heck does NASA need artists in residence for? I am surely not the first person to ask this question. Thomas summed it up best when he said "It is such an awesome idea---that is what makes it seem so wrong!" I just can't imagine how they justify that as good use of tax money when government funding for the arts is being systematically destroyed everywhere else. I could go on, but...

In The End of the Moon, Laurie Anderson touches on the new technologies she was introduced to at NASA, personal stories, and larger issues like 9/11 and the shuttle explosion in 2003. Her poetry is wonderfully rambling and punctuated by mostly electronic music. Thomas and I both thought the music, although very beautiful, could have been used as more than just punctuation for her text. She obviously has a wealth of technologies at her disposal, but the electronic music did little more than set the mood. This may be an aesthetic choice on her part, and to be fair I think what makes her an "experimental" artist is the multi-media-ness and random format of her shows, and not any strictly musical experimentalism on her part. The audience LOVED the show and clapped her back on stage more than five times.

How cool it must be to be such a weirdo and rake in a symphony-hall-full of people at 25 Euros a head. It gives me hope for the future.

Here is a bit from www.laurieanderson.com:

THE END OF THE MOON

Laurie's latest performance The End of the Moon is the second in a trilogy of solo performance works that combines stories and music in an intimate setting. The End of the Moon includes music for violin and electronics creating a duet between the spoken word and Lauries signature sound.

Following the first piece in this series Happiness (2002), The End of the Moon draws upon Lauries recent experiences and research as the first artist-in-residence at NASA in 2003. Part travelogue, part personal theories, history, and dreams The End of the Moon looks at the relationships between war, aesthetics, the space race, spirituality and consumerism. Collectively, Laurie envisions this solo trilogy as an 'epic poem' which aims to paint a large picture of contemporary American culture.

For The End of the Moon, Anderson began examining the question, Who taught you what beauty is? Unable to provide an answer, Anderson set off in search of one. The End of the Moon is her NASA end-of-term report, a performance piece that suggests a fateful symmetry between journeys into outer and inner space.

l'Acousmatique

We went to this electronic music concert on l'Acousmatique, a French word describing a movement in electronic music that has something to do with the audience not being able to see or pinpoint the source of the sound. Apparently Pythagoras used to sit behind a screen when he taught, thereby forcing his young pupils to listen more intently and without distraction from the visual realm. I really dont understand what l'Acousmatique means with regard to electronic music because all electronic music concerts are like Pythagorean lectures, since the rooms are dark and everyone faces a blank wall with speakers all around. The composer, invariably dressed in black, sits in the back at a folding table with a laptop and a bunch of cables, but the sounds don't come from him and so the whole experience is disorienting for the traditional concert goer.

Anyway, the concert was great; it featured music by some visiting French-Canadian composers, my favorites were Ombres, Espaces, Silences by Gilles Gobeil and StrinGDberg by Robert Normandeau. Professor Normandeau had a lovely French accent, is the same age as my parents, and teaches at the University of Montreal. Thomas spoke to him after the concert. Unlike me Thomas has some idea about l'Acousmatique because he spoke about it with Franois Bayle, a French composer widely regarded as the father of the movement. Monsieur Bayle will be in Cologne in June!