Our great modern Republic. May those who seek the blessings of its institutions and the protection of its flag remember the obligations they impose.
Ulysses S. Grant, born on this day in 1822
A forest of things.
Argue for the Proms to be strictly classical and you’re likely to be told to lighten up. Yet one cannot fail to notice that our countless pop and rock festivals feel no similar obligation to include classical artists in their line-ups: they do what they do, loud and proud. Endless debates about the Radio 3 schedules go over similar ground, pitting “fusty” purists against more chilled-out listeners who insist the station will die if it doesn’t adapt to changing times. Meanwhile, Radio 1 continues to do its own thing. I like an eclectic mix of music as much as the next person, but I feel it is legitimate to ask why only one type has to make all the concessions.It is a similar story in universities. Most music lecturers who were students in the 1980s and 1990s will have taken an academic degree course devoted entirely to classical music. By the 2000s a wide array of different types of music started to feature on the curriculum, and this diversification was seen by most as a good thing.We have reached a point where the pendulum has swung so far the other way that classical music is struggling to maintain a foothold at all on some university music courses. If any academic were to propose a degree course based entirely around classical music — and I imagine few would dare — they would be regarded as eccentric at best, politically dubious at worst.This is the nub of the embarrassment. Classical music is no longer simply something that people enjoy listening to, playing, studying and writing about; rather, it has been intensely politicised. The relentless elitism barbs have already done a great deal to turn people off classical music, but in recent years these historically illiterate insults have morphed into something even worse, as the elitism stereotype has merged with wider debates about equality in ways that are making the classical music world very edgy indeed.There is no reason why classical music shouldn’t appeal to people from all social backgrounds as it used to in the past ... It is downright insulting to suggest that classical music cannot speak to people from non-white backgrounds. Yet narratives that construct such music as the preserve of a privileged, white “elite” abound, and they are even hinted at, or even asserted explicitly, by the very institutions we would expect to be championing the arts.
The wonder of the worldThe beauty and the powerThe shapes of things,Their colours, light and shadesThese I saw,Look ye also while life lasts.
Steve points to Matthew Crawford's essay on AI's ability to alleviate the burden of thinking ...
Mechanized judgment resembles liberal proceduralism. It relies on our habit of deference to rules, and our suspicion of visible, personified authority. But its effect is to erode precisely those procedural liberties that are the great accomplishment of the liberal tradition, and to place authority beyond scrutiny. I mean “authority” in the broadest sense, including our interactions with outsized commercial entities that play a quasi-governmental role in our lives. That is the first problem. A second problem is that decisions made by algorithm are often not explainable, even by those who wrote the algorithm, and for that reason cannot win rational assent. This is the more fundamental problem posed by mechanized decision-making, as it touches on the basis of political legitimacy in any liberal regime.
Mackinac Island is one of the few places in the U.S. where cars are prohibited. Electric bicycles, which are supposed to be limited to people with mobility challenges, have become common there, however, and critics say they’re going too fast.To help remedy the situation, The state Senate passed legislation Tuesday that would set speed limits as low as 10 miles per hour for electric bikes on the island. The bill passed on a bipartisan vote.
Noticing signs of spring is not confined to the scientifically minded, of course. It is an idea with a long provenance. Buddhist monks in Japan were recording the arrival of the cherry blossom as far back as the ninth century. Some of Marsham’s “data points” (such as the swallow and the cuckoo) have long held a place in popular lore and folk songs. The old English saying “Ne’er cast a clout till May be out” — a warning not to remove outer clothes too soon in the year — is usually supposed to refer to the month of May. But English May weather is highly variable, and it is more likely that the saying refers to the May tree, or hawthorn, which generally flowers at some point during that month (long after it has come into leaf). Whether it does so early or late is determined chiefly by the weather conditions, making it a more reliable index for an appropriate choice of dress than a calendar date.Robert Marsham’s project was handed down in the family and only came to a halt in 1958 when his great-great-great-granddaughter Mary died and her descendants were advised that their amateur contribution was no longer required, presumably judged to be no match for modern scientific methods. Despite its abrupt termination, it is the unbroken long run — 222 years — of Marsham’s “Indications of Spring” that gives it lasting scientific worth. There are a few patchy early records for places in the UK, but Marsham’s is the first truly systematic dataset, according to Tim Sparks, a professor of zoology and quantitative biology at the universities of Cambridge, Liverpool, and Poznań. “It is the longest such record for the UK and has been of immense value in determining the variability in spring and in its response to prevailing weather conditions. He inspired many others to do likewise.” Marsham’s record stretches back far enough that it can serve as a baseline for the investigation of changes that have already happened in the more recent past as well as for ongoing studies of the present situation.One merit of Marsham’s idea is surely that it is so easily grasped. You do not need to be a scientist to understand his results — or to begin recording your own data. In the mid-nineteenth century, the observation of seasonal changes in nature acquired its own name — phenology — as the gentleman scientists of the Victorian age began to add their contributions. Today, Marsham’s pioneering work inspires successor projects around the world, many of them examples of “citizen science”, relying on the participation of members of the public.
Being attentive to little things that others might miss, Meyerowitz makes clear, is a skill we can work to master. It’s not, though, an exact science. As Meyerowitz says, “Be open to your own intuition and instincts and you will find your way.” What your way will reveal, I can’t know, but I do know that when we’re tuned in we start to see a wealth of amazing things that are all around us. Interesting insights may well ensue. As Meyerowitz says,At any given moment there is the possibility to say “Ah!” You catch your breath. You are inspired. You are at that moment suddenly feeling alive and awake. Some connection with the whole, has pressed itself to your senses. In that moment, there’s the tiniest little change—so tiny, it’s been smothered by all the energy around you—at that moment you stop.Meyerowitz shares a great example that came from his time in Paris many years ago. As he sets the scene: “You’re walking down the street and all of a sudden you come to this sweet spot where you catch the smell of a buttery croissant.” I can certainly relate and maybe you can as well. You notice the subtle smell, and in a wonderful way, it calls to you. But then, Meyerowitz reminds us, the logical mind might likely kick in: You probably weren’t looking for a croissant. Maybe you already ate breakfast earlier, and stopping to see more might make you a few minutes late for your meeting. The tendency for most of us, then, would simply be to keep walking. As Meyerowitz says, “You take two steps and it is gone!” Our mind is quickly occupied by other things. Meyerowitz suggests we do the opposite. We would do well, he says, to back up and follow our nose. Go closer. Explore. Learn more. What we find just might change our lives.
This is exactly what the Natural Laws have given me. They offer me a frame through which I can resist the temptation to be totally taken in by “the incident.” Instead of getting pulled in as most leaders are to focus singly on a new product, a new hire, a big sale, or some crisis of the moment, they help me to take a mental step back to see things in a different, more holistic way. When in doubt, I pull out the list of the 24 Natural Laws and see what it tells me about what’s going on, and where I need to adjust or change what we’re doing.