"The best thing for being sad," replied Merlin, beginning to puff and blow, "is to learn something. That's the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then — to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the only thing for you. Look what a lot of things there are to learn." — T.H. White, The Once and Future King
A website by Shanta Rohse on learning, technology and design
All of the world’s knowledge is in the air to be plucked down by our telephone. Of course it’s also all the world’s disinformation, misinformation, spam, porn, Nigerian frauds, urban legends, hoaxes. So how do you find what you want and how do you know that it’s true? Those seem like to me both extremely important questions today .…
The answer, says Judy Breck, is nothing less than to change both where we look and the way we ascertain truthfulness.
Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s five stages of grief. Sigmund Freud’s five stages of psychosexual development. Lawrence Kohlberg’s six stages of moral development. The urge to compress the complexities of life into neat, tidy stages is irresistible…and has very little to do with reality.
Those stage theories reflected a time when most people marched through life predictably: marrying at an early age; then having children when young; then work, work, work; then maybe a midlife crisis; then retirement; then death. Those ‘passages’ theories evaporated with changing social and economic conditions that blew the predictability of our lives to hell.
Jesse Bering on why so many of us think our minds continue on after we die; rather than being a by-product of religion or an emotional security blanket, such beliefs stem from the very nature of our consciousness.
And so person permanence may be the final cognitive hurdle that gets in the way of our effectively realizing the dead as they truly are — infinitely in situ, inanimate carbon residue. Instead it’s much more “natural” to imagine them as existing in some vague, unobservable locale, very much living their dead lives.
Oncologist Marisa Weiss’s advice to those inclined to research their own medical care: it’s mandatory. “The time you have with your doctor is getting progressively shorter, yet there’s so much more to talk about. You have to prepare for this important meeting.” This New York Times special section, Decoding Your Health, offers useful advice on evaluating what you might find: a primer on interpreting medical studies shows that “no matter how compelling and exciting a hypothesis is, we don’t know whether it works without clinical trials”; and self-diagnosis via the internet may well prove you have a fool for a doctor.
Jesse Smith’s review of the recently renovated US National Museum of Natural History points out the metamorphosis from stuffy science institution to modern entity that must “educate without boring, elucidate without offending, and advocate without annoying.” For example, the museum offers no linear progression through the exhibit, but rather any number of natural courses that reflect the chaos of the ocean itself:
Earth’s oceans, we are reminded, form a single interconnected body of water. Its species and currents are not constrained by labels such as Atlantic and Pacific, so why should their interpretation? Sections meld seamlessly into one another, but information in each is presented in a constrained manner so that if you do, say, jump from a stuffed penguin in Poles to a preserved Coelacanth (the giant fish considered extinct until a fisherman found one off the coast of South African in 1938), a visitor can still learn or experience at each. With the exception of the Journey Through Time exhibit — which explores the slow march of evolution that began underwater — there is never a progression to follow, no order by which a visitor must read or look. In this way, touring the hall feels a lot like surfing the Web.
How do we measure our planet’s global mean temperature, and compare it to a record dating back hundreds of thousands of years, a comparison central to discussions about climate change? Jordan R. Raney’s description of the ingenious but impaired proxy measures from tree rings to coral reefs are meant to encourage skepticism for some of the more extreme claims that have been made. Unfortunately, we still need to make decisions about climate change, however incomplete, uncertain the data we have is. In fact, that is the challenge.
Electrical Engineering professor Yannis Tsividis innocently asks, why is it that we very rarely see laughter depicted in ancient Greek sculpture? From the range of scholarly answers, you get the peculiar sense that we “moderns” are not in a position to give an answer.
Why are so many of us so skeptical when confronted with the overwhelming evidence for environmental consequences of destroying everything we come in contact with? In her review of American Earth, an anthology of American environmentalist views, Verlyn Klinkenborg has this reaction to the barrage of evidence and entreaties to reconnect with nature:
After a day or two, I found myself reading this anthology as if it were a series of reports from a distant planet in a distant time — as an appendix, perhaps, to Doris Lessing’s Canopus in Argos novels. Reading American Earth in that light helped make several things clear. First, each document in the volume is a minority report — sometimes a minority of one. The assumptions, the hopes, the arguments in nearly every one of these pieces, no matter when they were written, are contradicted by the way the vast majority of Americans live and by the political and economic structures that determine that lifestyle. Second, the fundamental environmentalist arguments — the fundamental perceptions — are unchanging over time; only the details vary. We are still catching up to Thoreau, still coming to terms with the outrage George Perkins Marsh expressed in 1864, his worries about “climatic excess” and our “restless love of change.” Third, writers in every generation take a crack at finding the crystalline argument that will induce an epiphany in skeptical readers — for nothing less than an epiphany will do to persuade them to change the way they go about living. Yet every generation fails, in part because skeptical readers so seldom pick up this kind of writing or submit to its evidence.
Her conclusion is also worth noting. She reaches for Kafka (There is infinite hope, but not for us.
) and writes regretfully: I would say something different if I could. I have every faith in nature’s recuperative powers.…What I doubt is our ability, as a species, to see and, having seen, to continue to pay attention.
At some point in your surfing escapades you begin to grasp that the profound impact of the internet on learning is not its vast stores of content, but its ability to support the various facets of social learning. You begin to appreciate that knowledge is not just a lump of something that is passed on via various pedagogical tactics, and your attention begins to shift from the content of a subject to the learning activities and human interventions around which that content is situated. John Seely Brown identifies this as a shift from “learning about” to “learning to be.” And “learning to be” calls for interpersonal skills not easily acquired by textbook learning. It’s in this context I found myself reading back issues of In Character, which examines virtues within our communities our families and ourselves. The current issue delves into compassion; this observation from Howard Behar who emphasizes compassion as a vital component of acquiring personal leadership skills caught my attention:
People are not assets. Caring isn’t just about admiring the charismatic leaders, the people that everybody likes, or the in crowd. This is the big caring we do that shows we “care, like we really mean it.” It’s about words and actions that everybody sees and recognizes. There’s an old adage that says, “People don’t care how much you know, they want to know how much you care.”
This otherwise uninspiring white paper from Deloitte Consulting on the interesting topic of social networking in the enterprise makes the significant point that organizations are increasingly investing in Web 2.0 technologies as a way to retain knowledge and solve problems: