Currently reading The Looming Tower by Lawrence Wright. This book won a Pulitzer Prize; it basically explains how 9/11 became 9/11, going back the better part of a century to help us understand what has gone on in Egypt, in Afghanistan, in Saudi Arabia, and other parts of the Middle East that foreshadowed where we are today.
In many ways, the book is spooky and forces one to acknowledge that there are two radically different value systems and mindsets out there: one that promotes religious totalitarianism, and one that promotes religious pluralism. There is a traditional mindset and a modern mindset; a mindset that worships freedom and one that is wary of it; one that welcomes diversity and change and one that does not.
In my view, the two biggest obstacles to world peace at the moment would be fundamentalist Islam and fundamentalist Christianity. They are both quite scary. The Looming Tower tells us quite a bit about the Islamic version; Sam Harris's The End of Faith does the same with both Christianity and Islam.
I am afraid that in my lifetime, I will not see organized religion--at least, the fundamentalist versions of it--be reformed in any meaningful way. But someday--maybe a century or two from now--people will read what others believed at this time, and believed with absolute certainty because it was decreed by either God or Allah, and they will shake their heads and mutter in disbelief. For now, however, I must write this from within the "loony bin" that is the world of 2008, and it's truly a more certifiably crazy world than most people seem to think.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Mr. Consistency
Call me Mr. Consistency.
As my countless legions of friends know, distance running is a very big part of my life. I haven't written much about that over the years, but someday I will, because running is a religion for me and I feel a need to proselytize. Running is my time away; it's my way to get in touch with the natural world and my own body (no sleazy jokes, please!); it's my form of meditation; it's my health insurance policy; and along with caffeine, it's my drug-of-choice. In short, running keeps me feeling sane, relaxed, and whole. And, somewhat obsessive person that I am, I have kept fairly careful running records over the years, going back to (gulp) 1975. (Keeping track of all this has been a big motivator!) To date, I have run 17,090 miles, which includes:
• six marathons (26.2 miles)
• five 25K races (15.52 miles)
• twenty half-marathons (13.1 miles)
• four 10-mile races
• three 15K races (9.3 miles)
• seventeen 10K races (6.2 miles) and
• eleven 4-5 mile races
To reinforce my obsessive impulses, my lovely wife bought me a "Garmin" for my last birthday (it goes on your wrist--looks like a rather large wristwatch), which can now tell me, on any run, exactly how many miles I went (to the hundredth of a mile), my exact time, my per-mile pace, my average and top speeds in miles per hour, the number of feet of ascent and descent in the run, the number of calories that I burned, and also provides a map of exactly where I ran (those satellites are spying on all of us anyway--why not use them for this as well?). You want data? I got data.
There will come a time when running is no longer a possiblity (knock on wood), but I continue to hang on to the illusion that I can do this forever. One needs a few illusions, dontcha think?
At any rate, I am getting pretty consistent, though. In late January, I ran the Securian Frozen Half Marathon (the St. Paul Winter Carnival Half Marathon) in 1 hour, 56 minutes, and 47 seconds. Then, last weekend, I ran the New Prague Half Marathon in (drum roll) 1 hour, 56 minutes, and 47 seconds. My, my--I couldn't do that again if I tried! I may not be really fast, but damn, I'm consistent.
As my countless legions of friends know, distance running is a very big part of my life. I haven't written much about that over the years, but someday I will, because running is a religion for me and I feel a need to proselytize. Running is my time away; it's my way to get in touch with the natural world and my own body (no sleazy jokes, please!); it's my form of meditation; it's my health insurance policy; and along with caffeine, it's my drug-of-choice. In short, running keeps me feeling sane, relaxed, and whole. And, somewhat obsessive person that I am, I have kept fairly careful running records over the years, going back to (gulp) 1975. (Keeping track of all this has been a big motivator!) To date, I have run 17,090 miles, which includes:
• six marathons (26.2 miles)
• five 25K races (15.52 miles)
• twenty half-marathons (13.1 miles)
• four 10-mile races
• three 15K races (9.3 miles)
• seventeen 10K races (6.2 miles) and
• eleven 4-5 mile races
To reinforce my obsessive impulses, my lovely wife bought me a "Garmin" for my last birthday (it goes on your wrist--looks like a rather large wristwatch), which can now tell me, on any run, exactly how many miles I went (to the hundredth of a mile), my exact time, my per-mile pace, my average and top speeds in miles per hour, the number of feet of ascent and descent in the run, the number of calories that I burned, and also provides a map of exactly where I ran (those satellites are spying on all of us anyway--why not use them for this as well?). You want data? I got data.
There will come a time when running is no longer a possiblity (knock on wood), but I continue to hang on to the illusion that I can do this forever. One needs a few illusions, dontcha think?
At any rate, I am getting pretty consistent, though. In late January, I ran the Securian Frozen Half Marathon (the St. Paul Winter Carnival Half Marathon) in 1 hour, 56 minutes, and 47 seconds. Then, last weekend, I ran the New Prague Half Marathon in (drum roll) 1 hour, 56 minutes, and 47 seconds. My, my--I couldn't do that again if I tried! I may not be really fast, but damn, I'm consistent.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Star Tribune: an obstacle 93 percent of the time
Well, the Don Quixote of the blogosphere (that's me) continues to tilt against the windmills of the world. Anyone who knows me (but who REALLY knows me? I have a secret life that involves azaleas, model railroading, and nipple rings) also knows that I have "had it up to here," as they say, with people who purport to know about nonverbal communication. Dr. Phil actually told Larry King on the air (on Larry King Live) that "communication is 93 percent nonverbal." Dr. Phil was spreading (like cheap manure) the most famous set of false statistics in my field: that the meaning in a message is "7 percent verbal, 38 percent vocal, and 55 percent facial." As I have demonstrated in two different articles (I will spare you THOSE details), these numbers are wrong, misleading, bogus, faux, and any other synonym you can provide.
Enter the Star Tribune, which, on May 5, had as its lead article in its "Source" (variety) section, "Bodies at work." Big 48-point headline. Big colorful graphics. And an article that begins with a big, big lie. Alison Grant, the Newhouse News Service writer, tells us in the 4th paragraph that "A classic 1971 study by UCLA psychologist Albert Mehrabian showed that less than 10 percent of what audience members remembered from a speaker was verbal. About a third of the impact came from tone of voice. The rest, more than half the recall, involved body language--gestures, facial expressions, posture, movements." That prompted me to send the newspaper this letter:
Dear Star Tribune:
It is often painful to read about "nonverbal communication" from people who claim to have knowledge about the subject but really don't. In the Source section of the May 5 Star Tribune ("Bodies at work," by Newhouse News Service writer Alison Grant), it is stated that "A classic 1971 study by UCLA psychologist Albert Mehrabian showed that less than 10 percent of what audience members remembered from a speaker was verbal," implying that roughly 90 percent of a message's meaning is nonverbal. That is simply not true.
First, the two studies that arrived at these numbers are from 1967, not 1971. Second, the key study involved only 37 female psychology majors at UCLA reacting to a situation that essentially forced these women to pay more attention to the nonverbal message because the verbal stimulus was limited to but one word: the word "maybe." Third, the study was not a test of what "audience members remembered," but how they judged the feelings of the speaker. And with only one word to react to--"maybe"--it should come as no surprise that these laboratory subjects paid more attention to the speaker's tone of voice and facial expression to determine the speaker's feelings. There are other inaccuracies in this article as well about Mehrabian's line of research, but I will leave it at that for now.
The bottom line is this: there is no magical formula that can precisely express the relative importance of the verbal and nonverbal messages in any given situation. The percentages from the Mehrabian research are widely cited, but they are a type of "urban legend." And if you don't believe me when I say that words can count for more than 10 percent of the total meaning in a message, try calling your best friend a "big fat selfish pig" in a very calm voice with a gentle smile on your face and see if they actually pay more attention to "body language."
David Lapakko, Ph.D.
Associate Professor, Dept. of Communication Studies
Augsburg College
So there, I say! This letter did not meet the Star Tribune's high standards and was not published. But the letter does meet my standards (read: none whatsoever). Once again the local newspaper cannot stop me, although I'm beginning to develop a little psychological complex. I hope I am not turning into that slightly deranged guy you see in our urban centers, aimlessly walking about and muttering to any stranger who will make eye contact with him--and even any stranger who won't! I may be 93 percent crazy, but I hang on to that 7 percent of the time when I can be normal and lucid. Pass my meds over to me, please!
Enter the Star Tribune, which, on May 5, had as its lead article in its "Source" (variety) section, "Bodies at work." Big 48-point headline. Big colorful graphics. And an article that begins with a big, big lie. Alison Grant, the Newhouse News Service writer, tells us in the 4th paragraph that "A classic 1971 study by UCLA psychologist Albert Mehrabian showed that less than 10 percent of what audience members remembered from a speaker was verbal. About a third of the impact came from tone of voice. The rest, more than half the recall, involved body language--gestures, facial expressions, posture, movements." That prompted me to send the newspaper this letter:
Dear Star Tribune:
It is often painful to read about "nonverbal communication" from people who claim to have knowledge about the subject but really don't. In the Source section of the May 5 Star Tribune ("Bodies at work," by Newhouse News Service writer Alison Grant), it is stated that "A classic 1971 study by UCLA psychologist Albert Mehrabian showed that less than 10 percent of what audience members remembered from a speaker was verbal," implying that roughly 90 percent of a message's meaning is nonverbal. That is simply not true.
First, the two studies that arrived at these numbers are from 1967, not 1971. Second, the key study involved only 37 female psychology majors at UCLA reacting to a situation that essentially forced these women to pay more attention to the nonverbal message because the verbal stimulus was limited to but one word: the word "maybe." Third, the study was not a test of what "audience members remembered," but how they judged the feelings of the speaker. And with only one word to react to--"maybe"--it should come as no surprise that these laboratory subjects paid more attention to the speaker's tone of voice and facial expression to determine the speaker's feelings. There are other inaccuracies in this article as well about Mehrabian's line of research, but I will leave it at that for now.
The bottom line is this: there is no magical formula that can precisely express the relative importance of the verbal and nonverbal messages in any given situation. The percentages from the Mehrabian research are widely cited, but they are a type of "urban legend." And if you don't believe me when I say that words can count for more than 10 percent of the total meaning in a message, try calling your best friend a "big fat selfish pig" in a very calm voice with a gentle smile on your face and see if they actually pay more attention to "body language."
David Lapakko, Ph.D.
Associate Professor, Dept. of Communication Studies
Augsburg College
So there, I say! This letter did not meet the Star Tribune's high standards and was not published. But the letter does meet my standards (read: none whatsoever). Once again the local newspaper cannot stop me, although I'm beginning to develop a little psychological complex. I hope I am not turning into that slightly deranged guy you see in our urban centers, aimlessly walking about and muttering to any stranger who will make eye contact with him--and even any stranger who won't! I may be 93 percent crazy, but I hang on to that 7 percent of the time when I can be normal and lucid. Pass my meds over to me, please!
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