A diabolically brilliant criminal mastermind will inevitably choose a computer password so simple that any random do-gooder will be able to figure it out, usually just by looking around the supervillain's office.
**************************************
The Solipsist will be on the road tomorrow, so posting may be less regular than usual for the next week or so. In case we don't talk to you before then, all of you should have yourselves a merry little Christmas. TTFN.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
Coolest Thing EVER
Nobody talked much about solipsists before the late-19th century. OK, presumably we were talking about ourselves, but we didn't get much play in the wider world. The highwater mark of solipsism's literary popularity apparently came in 1996: In that year, about 1/20,000 of one percent of the words used in books was "solipsism." Why this sudden popularity? Could it have something to do with America's highly popular, solipsistic commander-in-chief? (OK, Clinton was technically more of a narcissist, but there's a definite relationship?) And what explains the fact that, while "solipsism" trended up, "solipsist" trended down? A sign of people's preference for abstraction over individuals?
We can muse upon these questions thanks to Google's new "Books Ngram Viewer." Basically, this tool allows you to search through thousands upon thousands of digitized texts to see how often words or short phrases appear. It's a sort of concordance for the electronic age. ("Concordance," incidentally, has had a sort of up-and-down history. Its usage spikes around 1670 and then again about a hundred years later, before dipping into a trough from which it arose again around 1970. It had maintained its status since then--no stopping "concordance" now.)
Another fun fact: a little under 5% of the words used in Google's sample are the word "the." If we read this correctly, this means that if one reads twenty words, there's a good chance that one of those words is "the." Also, this 5% total (which is pretty huge if you think about it) is down from a high of about 6% in the mid-19th century. Why has "the" fallen into disfavor over the last 150 years? And why has the fall-off been less drastic in British books than in American? (Yup, you can look at that, too.)
We prefer Pepsi to Coke, but the latter is about 15 times more common than the former. And since 1977, when "Star Wars" hit theaters, the movie has been a steady topic--or, maybe not: The phrase reached its zenith in the late 1980s, when it occurs once every million words or so, but we suspect that may have something to do with President Reagan's plans for missile defense. As of 2008, though, the phrase was only slightly more common than "Star Trek"--and the latter doesn't even have geopolitical implications. (Also, "Star Wars" is more popular than "Star Trek" in French literature, but the numbers are reversed for Germans. Discuss.)
We can muse upon these questions thanks to Google's new "Books Ngram Viewer." Basically, this tool allows you to search through thousands upon thousands of digitized texts to see how often words or short phrases appear. It's a sort of concordance for the electronic age. ("Concordance," incidentally, has had a sort of up-and-down history. Its usage spikes around 1670 and then again about a hundred years later, before dipping into a trough from which it arose again around 1970. It had maintained its status since then--no stopping "concordance" now.)
Another fun fact: a little under 5% of the words used in Google's sample are the word "the." If we read this correctly, this means that if one reads twenty words, there's a good chance that one of those words is "the." Also, this 5% total (which is pretty huge if you think about it) is down from a high of about 6% in the mid-19th century. Why has "the" fallen into disfavor over the last 150 years? And why has the fall-off been less drastic in British books than in American? (Yup, you can look at that, too.)
We prefer Pepsi to Coke, but the latter is about 15 times more common than the former. And since 1977, when "Star Wars" hit theaters, the movie has been a steady topic--or, maybe not: The phrase reached its zenith in the late 1980s, when it occurs once every million words or so, but we suspect that may have something to do with President Reagan's plans for missile defense. As of 2008, though, the phrase was only slightly more common than "Star Trek"--and the latter doesn't even have geopolitical implications. (Also, "Star Wars" is more popular than "Star Trek" in French literature, but the numbers are reversed for Germans. Discuss.)
Thursday, December 16, 2010
When Push Comes to Polling
Have you ever found yourself on the receiving end of a push poll? In case you don't know, a push poll is a classic feature of the political dirty-trick playbook: People are called and asked to participate in a seemingly impartial opinion poll. The questions, though, are designed to skew the results. Thus, supporters of Candidate A might call people and ask questions like, "If you found out that Candidate B liked to molest hamsters, would that make you more or less likely to vote for him?" They have thus planted the idea that Candidate B has some seriously aberrational proclivities; furthermore, when the pollsters receive overwhelmingly negative responses, they can disingenuously claim that, in a recent poll, a vast majority of people now express themselves "less likely" to vote for Candidate B.
(Even if the tactic backfires and generates a large positive response, the pollsters could always spin it and say that Candidate B is a favorite of hamster-molesters.)
We have never participated in a push poll, but we saw a slightly more subtle version of one the other day. At the Kaiser Permanente pharmacy, a sign encourages customers to fill out a survey that they will receive in the mail. It asks them to measure their level of satisfaction with various aspects of the pharmacy's services, using a typical scale: Very Dissatisfied, Dissatisfied, No Opinion, Satisfied, Very Satisfied. So far, so good.
The catch, though, is that, after each question, the survey makes the following request: "If you answered 'Dissatisfied' or 'Very Dissatisfied,' please explain what we could do to improve."
Ha!
We can just imagine the recipient: "Oh! A survey from those pharmacy bastards! They make me wait an hour and screw up my order every time! I am SO going to check off 'Very Dissatisfied'! I-- Wait. Oh, man, I have to write something? Sigh. Never mind . . . ."
All we're saying is, we would be far more interested to see how many people had "No Opinion" than how many were "Satisfied."
(Even if the tactic backfires and generates a large positive response, the pollsters could always spin it and say that Candidate B is a favorite of hamster-molesters.)
We have never participated in a push poll, but we saw a slightly more subtle version of one the other day. At the Kaiser Permanente pharmacy, a sign encourages customers to fill out a survey that they will receive in the mail. It asks them to measure their level of satisfaction with various aspects of the pharmacy's services, using a typical scale: Very Dissatisfied, Dissatisfied, No Opinion, Satisfied, Very Satisfied. So far, so good.
The catch, though, is that, after each question, the survey makes the following request: "If you answered 'Dissatisfied' or 'Very Dissatisfied,' please explain what we could do to improve."
Ha!
We can just imagine the recipient: "Oh! A survey from those pharmacy bastards! They make me wait an hour and screw up my order every time! I am SO going to check off 'Very Dissatisfied'! I-- Wait. Oh, man, I have to write something? Sigh. Never mind . . . ."
All we're saying is, we would be far more interested to see how many people had "No Opinion" than how many were "Satisfied."
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Here's to Your Health (Update)
When District Court Judge Henry Hudson ruled yesterday that an element of the health-care legislation--a requirement that all citizens purchase insurance--was unconstitutional, he may have had a point. Certainly, the thought of government forcing people to buy something whether they want it or not goes against a certain ideal of American freedom. But does the insurance mandate actually fail to pass constitutional muster?
Hudson pointed out that the mandate to buy health insurance differed from the seemingly similar requirement to buy auto insurance because people could choose not to own cars. You don't want to drive? You don't need to buy insurance. But if you choose to have a car, you have no choice but to purchase coverage. In contrast, the health-insurance mandate would apply to everyone and people could not opt out.
The flaw in this argument rests on the economic concept of externalities. In a perfect market, when two people freely engage in a transaction, each gains some measurable benefit: You have a pizza, the Solipsist has $10. You would rather have $10 than the pizza, and we would rather have the pizza than $10. We make the exchange, and everybody's happy. If, however, the pizza causes an unpleasant gastrointestinal event, and WOS has to suffer through it, then the pizza has a negative externality: A person uninvolved in the transaction (WOS) has suffered a "loss" (in this case, of breathable air) that the price of the pizza did not reflect. That is, we imposed a cost on WOS that we ourselves did not pay for.
This is what is known as a market failure: a case where the price of a commodity does not reflect all the costs imposed on society. When markets fail, governments step in. In the example described above, WOS might appeal to her elected representatives to remedy the situation by imposing a "gas tax" on any of the Solipsist's future pizza purchases. Instead of simply paying the pizza maker for the price of his goods and services, the Solipsist might be required to compensate WOS for the negative externalities she suffers--perhaps several hundred dollars per pizza. Fortunately, WOS has little pull with our local elected representatives.
So what does all this have to do with healthcare? Go back to Judge Hudson's distinction between health insurance and car insurance. The judge points out that a person can avoid buying car insurance by choosing not to buy a car. True enough. And what about externalities? In this case, there don't seem to be any. If the Solipsist's neighbor chooses not to buy a car, it's no skin off our back. The same can not be said of health insurance.
If our neighbor chooses not to purchase health insurance, it does impose costs on the rest of society. For one thing, it may dissuade our neighbor from seeking medical care when he or she has some highly contagious but treatable disease. More importantly, though, if our currently healthy neighbor chooses not to buy insurance, figuring he doesn't need it, then the insurance rates for everybody else go up. Indeed, with the health care legislation's mandate that insurers must cover everyone, regardless of health, the costs, as economics columnist David Leonhardt points out, will be even greater: Our neighbor will simply buy health insurance when he gets sick, imposing ALL of his costs on those people who chose to buy insurance earlier.
Of course, the major problem here is our continuing conflation of health insurance with health care: We need the latter; whether we NEED the former is a matter for serious debate. As long as we keep insisting on market-based solutions for our problems, it is incumbent upon legislators to address negative externalities and other market failures.
Hudson pointed out that the mandate to buy health insurance differed from the seemingly similar requirement to buy auto insurance because people could choose not to own cars. You don't want to drive? You don't need to buy insurance. But if you choose to have a car, you have no choice but to purchase coverage. In contrast, the health-insurance mandate would apply to everyone and people could not opt out.
The flaw in this argument rests on the economic concept of externalities. In a perfect market, when two people freely engage in a transaction, each gains some measurable benefit: You have a pizza, the Solipsist has $10. You would rather have $10 than the pizza, and we would rather have the pizza than $10. We make the exchange, and everybody's happy. If, however, the pizza causes an unpleasant gastrointestinal event, and WOS has to suffer through it, then the pizza has a negative externality: A person uninvolved in the transaction (WOS) has suffered a "loss" (in this case, of breathable air) that the price of the pizza did not reflect. That is, we imposed a cost on WOS that we ourselves did not pay for.
This is what is known as a market failure: a case where the price of a commodity does not reflect all the costs imposed on society. When markets fail, governments step in. In the example described above, WOS might appeal to her elected representatives to remedy the situation by imposing a "gas tax" on any of the Solipsist's future pizza purchases. Instead of simply paying the pizza maker for the price of his goods and services, the Solipsist might be required to compensate WOS for the negative externalities she suffers--perhaps several hundred dollars per pizza. Fortunately, WOS has little pull with our local elected representatives.
So what does all this have to do with healthcare? Go back to Judge Hudson's distinction between health insurance and car insurance. The judge points out that a person can avoid buying car insurance by choosing not to buy a car. True enough. And what about externalities? In this case, there don't seem to be any. If the Solipsist's neighbor chooses not to buy a car, it's no skin off our back. The same can not be said of health insurance.
If our neighbor chooses not to purchase health insurance, it does impose costs on the rest of society. For one thing, it may dissuade our neighbor from seeking medical care when he or she has some highly contagious but treatable disease. More importantly, though, if our currently healthy neighbor chooses not to buy insurance, figuring he doesn't need it, then the insurance rates for everybody else go up. Indeed, with the health care legislation's mandate that insurers must cover everyone, regardless of health, the costs, as economics columnist David Leonhardt points out, will be even greater: Our neighbor will simply buy health insurance when he gets sick, imposing ALL of his costs on those people who chose to buy insurance earlier.
Of course, the major problem here is our continuing conflation of health insurance with health care: We need the latter; whether we NEED the former is a matter for serious debate. As long as we keep insisting on market-based solutions for our problems, it is incumbent upon legislators to address negative externalities and other market failures.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
A Bit of Hope
As someone who spends an inordinate amount of time living in his own head, the Solipsist has always harbored a special dread of Alzheimer's disease. To paraphrase Woody Allen, our brain is our second favorite organ. The thought of no longer being able to think is frightening.
We were thus intrigued to read today of a number of potnetial breakthroughs in the battle against Alzheimer's. All this research remains in the experimental stage, but it does sound promising. Scientists have figured out that the overabundance of plaque, which gums up the brain's works and leads to the mental deterioration associated with Alzheimer's, may actually be a "drainage" problem. Researchers used to think that Alzheimer's sufferers, for whatever reason, produced too much of a protein called beta amyloid; now, they've figured out that, in fact, these patients produce about the same amount of beta amyloid as healthy folk--they just don't get rid of it as quickly. What this means for medicine is that scientists can take a two-pronged approach to combating the disease: They can work to slow production of beta amyloid, and/or they can look for ways to help speed the passage of the plaque out of the brain.
We realize it can't be as simple as it sounds. At the same time, though, we find something reassuring in the thought that, instead of some existential destroyer of a person's essential self, Alzheimer's may essentially be little more than an internal plumbing problem. With any luck, by the time we reach our elder years, the Roto Rooters of neurology will be able to snake out our synapses and prevent any decline into senility.
We were thus intrigued to read today of a number of potnetial breakthroughs in the battle against Alzheimer's. All this research remains in the experimental stage, but it does sound promising. Scientists have figured out that the overabundance of plaque, which gums up the brain's works and leads to the mental deterioration associated with Alzheimer's, may actually be a "drainage" problem. Researchers used to think that Alzheimer's sufferers, for whatever reason, produced too much of a protein called beta amyloid; now, they've figured out that, in fact, these patients produce about the same amount of beta amyloid as healthy folk--they just don't get rid of it as quickly. What this means for medicine is that scientists can take a two-pronged approach to combating the disease: They can work to slow production of beta amyloid, and/or they can look for ways to help speed the passage of the plaque out of the brain.
We realize it can't be as simple as it sounds. At the same time, though, we find something reassuring in the thought that, instead of some existential destroyer of a person's essential self, Alzheimer's may essentially be little more than an internal plumbing problem. With any luck, by the time we reach our elder years, the Roto Rooters of neurology will be able to snake out our synapses and prevent any decline into senility.
Monday, December 13, 2010
We Don't Want to Do Our Homework. . .
. . . so we're copying off a friend.
Emi Ha writes of her dislike of homework. To be specific, she dislikes having to deal with her children's homework; she doesn't mind her own.
(We mind our own, but we'll allow Emi Ha her moment of apple-polishing semi-studiousness.)
She brings up a good point, though: When did homework become a family activity? We remember doing our homework--or not doing it, as the case may be--with very little parental supervision. (Which, come to think of it, may explain the "not doing it" part.) Our mother would help if we needed it, and she would get suitably annoyed when the report card came informing her of our occasional homeworky lapses. But homework, as an extension of our school day, was OUR job, not hers.
One good thing that has come of excessive parental involvement in homework has been the movement to reduce excessive homework: Several hours a night is probably a bit much for most kids, especially those of the age of Emi Ha's interns. So if getting parents involved in homework has motivated them to petition schools to reduce the homework burden, great. But once unburdened, we say the kids are on their own.
Emi Ha writes of her dislike of homework. To be specific, she dislikes having to deal with her children's homework; she doesn't mind her own.
(We mind our own, but we'll allow Emi Ha her moment of apple-polishing semi-studiousness.)
She brings up a good point, though: When did homework become a family activity? We remember doing our homework--or not doing it, as the case may be--with very little parental supervision. (Which, come to think of it, may explain the "not doing it" part.) Our mother would help if we needed it, and she would get suitably annoyed when the report card came informing her of our occasional homeworky lapses. But homework, as an extension of our school day, was OUR job, not hers.
One good thing that has come of excessive parental involvement in homework has been the movement to reduce excessive homework: Several hours a night is probably a bit much for most kids, especially those of the age of Emi Ha's interns. So if getting parents involved in homework has motivated them to petition schools to reduce the homework burden, great. But once unburdened, we say the kids are on their own.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
They Call Him Flipper, Flipper, Flipper. . .
Rough day for the Solipsist. The high point was a two-hour nap. That's not self-pity: Naps are generally the best part of any day. Some comedian once noted that you know you're becoming an adult when you look forward to sleep.
Anyway, we woke up only to find our Jets losing to the Miami Dolphins. At least we didn't make a bet with ACOS this week. Regular readers will recall that, back in September, we made a bragging rights-type wager on the first Jets-Fish game of the season: The fan of the losing team had to post the logo of the winning team as his Facebook profile picture for a week, and each day's status update had to feature a lyric from a song about the winning team's hometown. The Jets won, and ACOS lived up to his end of the bargain.
We don't know if we would have honored the pact--not because we wouldn't want to. (We wouldn't, but that's beside the point.) Rather, because off the top of our head, we can only think of two songs with "Miami" in the title, and one of them is the theme from "Miami Vice." Not exactly a Cole-Porteresque trove of quotable lyrics, there.
Then again, we could have forced ACOS to find lyrics about East Rutherford, NJ, so in a sense he got off easy, too.
PS: We would like to extend a Solipsistic golf clap to the Chicago Bears. We REALLY appreciate your decision to start playing to your abilities today against the Patriots. What, you couldn't keep overachieiving for one more week?
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