I’m on my way to England for a few days. A bit of a whirlwind trip, but I expect it’ll be productive.
Loaded up my Tube map and National Rail schedule on my iPhone. The new travel practice: adjusting your collection of apps.
More from England.
I’m on my way to England for a few days. A bit of a whirlwind trip, but I expect it’ll be productive.
Loaded up my Tube map and National Rail schedule on my iPhone. The new travel practice: adjusting your collection of apps.
More from England.
I think behavioral economists, psychologists, and other students of decision-making are going to spend years analyzing the financial crisis and reactions to it. (The rest of us will just be trying to pick our financial lives back up.) One of the interesting things is how bankers have reacted to screwing up and getting bailed out. As James Kwak writes about Wall Street CEOs:
Wall Street CEOs like to think they are the adults, the big men in the room, the ones who know how the world works. Well, you know what? They screwed up their own banks, the financial system, and the economy like a bunch of two-year-olds. Every single major bank would have failed in late 2008 without massive government intervention — because of wounds that were entirely self-inflicted. (Citigroup: holding onto hundreds of billions of dollars of its own toxic waste. Bank of America: paying $50 billion for an investment bank that would have failed within three days. Morgan Stanley and Goldman Sachs: levering up without a stable source of funding. Etc.) The financial crisis should have put to rest for a generation the idea that the big boys on Wall Street know what they’re doing and the politicians in Washington are a bunch of amateurs. Yet somehow the bankers came out of it with the same unshakable belief in their own perfection that they had in 2005.
Joshua Lehrer has a short piece arguing that anchoring bias slowed our ability to respond to the Icelandic ash cloud and the Deepwater Horizon oil spill:
In the last few months, the globalized world has endured two very different crises. First, there was the ash cloud over Europe, which paralyzed air travel for millions of passengers. Then, there is the leaking oil well in the Gulf of Mexico, which continues to spew somewhere between 5000 and 60,000 barrels of crude into the ocean every day.
While these disasters have nothing in common, our response has been plagued by the same fundamental problem. In both instances, officials settled on an early version of events - the ash cloud posed a severe danger to plane engines, and the oil well wasn't a very bad leak - and then failed to update that version in light of new evidence. As a result, valuable time was squandered.
This is a form of anchoring, a mental bias first outlined (of course) by Kahneman and Tversky.
As a commenter points out, we're not talking about exactly the kind of anchoring that Kahneman and Tversky studied, because the association is not completely random; but still, I think the basic point- that initial reports and expectations made it harder to adjust plans in the face of new evidence- holds true.
Steve Eisman, “the outspoken investor whose huge wager against the subprime mortgage market was chronicled by author Michael Lewis in his bestselling book The Big Short, talking about the for-profit education industry:
Until recently, I thought that there would never again be an opportunity to be involved with an industry as socially destructive and morally bankrupt as the subprime mortgage industry. I was wrong. The for-profit education industry has proven equal to the task.
As Mother Jones elaborates,
Driving much of the growth, Eisman explained, was the sector’s easy access to federally guaranteed debt through Title IV student loans. In 2009, he said, for-profit educators raked in almost one-quarter of the $89 billion in available Title IV loans and grants, despite having only 10 percent of the nation’s postsecondary students.
Eisman attributes the industry’s success to a Bush administration that stripped away regulations and increased the private sector’s access to public funds. “The government, the students, and the taxpayer bear all the risk and the for-profit industry reaps all the rewards,” Eisman said. “This is similar to the subprime mortgage sector in that the subprime originators bore far less risk than the investors in their mortgage paper.”…
Another similarity between subprime lending and for-profit education is this, Eisman said: Both push low-income Americans into something they can’t afford…. [Finally], the industry’s era of massive profits—ITT is more profitable on a margin basis than Apple, he notes—are about to end, thanks to new government regulations in the pipeline.
Wonderful.
A friend introduced me to Hipstamatic a few days ago, and I’ve been hooked on it. I’ve created a Flickr set of Hipstamatic pictures.
via flickr
I’m not sure what’s so compelling about the program. I think the ability to play with combinations of lenses and film and flahses (or rather “lenses” and “film” and “flashes”) and the clever fake history that they’ve created around the technology has a lot to do with it.
via flickr
The fact that it’s also kind of hard to use at times makes it more interesting. It’s not clear what you’re going to get when you take a picture.
via flickr
Anyway, I recommend it.
A while ago I wrote about reinventing academic talks. It got me thinking about how to better design workshops or conferences that bring together scholars or scientists (who, broadly speaking, like to think about stuff) with policy people, corporate strategists, and military people (who, broadly speaking, also like to think, but really like to DO).
It’s a space I’ve been exploring in my consulting practice this past year, and I just posted a piece on Future2 on the opportunities we now have to reinvent events on the academic / real-world boundary.
One of the things I've been working on this last year is an effort to design events that consciously bring together academics and practitioners to work together on strategy, futures, or other big subjects. Lexi Lord's recent Chronicle piece (which I discuss here) makes me think it's worth starting to share the thinking behind this effort, as an example of the interesting things people with hybrid scholarly-but-nonacademic lives can do.
Introduction
A growing number of conferences or workshops bring together academics and people from "real world" organizations- corporations, foundations, governments, military, intelligence agencies, or civil society. Often these events feature interesting- even exotic- combinations of people, generate a high level of enthusiasm and lots of ideas, and are very stimulating for participants.
But they don't always effectively harness the energy, intellectual firepower, and creative opportunities that emerge when many interesting people come together. Sometimes these workshops end on a high note, but the enthusiasm proves hard to sustain once people go back to their regular lives. Sometimes it's hard to fully represent the range of ideas generated during the event, and some good ideas are lost (as VCs might put it, intellectual capital is left on the table). And sometimes they yield fairly conventional academic products like conference proceedings or edited volumes, when sponsors would have been more enthusiastic about seeing prototypes, videos, outlines of new strategies or policies, or business plans emerge from the events.
I think it is possible to dramatically improve these events. We can redesign these meetings to be more action-oriented, and create events that are intellectually stimulating and productive; satisfy the needs of all stakeholders; generate things immediately useful to sponsors; and more effectively harness the energy and interest of participants for longer periods. We can do this by making smarter use of both digital and physical collaborative tools, and adapting practices and collaboration tools developed in the corporate and high-tech worlds.
Creativity, Meetings, and the Business World
Academic conferences evolved over the last century out of earlier conclaves and other academic events. With the growth and professionalization of academic disciplines, conferences and workshops became one of the "little tools of knowledge" (to use Peter Becker and William Clark's phrase) that support scholarly life. As such, they are a familiar part of university life- so familiar it's hard to imagine them being organized in any other way. Indeed, despite considerable changes in professional academic life, advances in communications technology, and the nature of academic scholarship itself, conferences have hardly changed. The 1900 American Historical Association annual meeting in Ann Arbor had about 200 attendees; a century later, the annual meeting regularly attracted twenty times that number; but while the event has grown, its basic structure and components today would be instantly recognizable to its earliest attendees.
Because it is geared to the demands of scholarly production, the traditional academic conference is poorly-suited to the more policy- or decision-making needs of those sponsors who wish to apply scientific and scholarly knowledge to contemporary problems. Conferences tend to be collections of individual performances, which scholars use to accelerate the production of their own published work. Conference organizers handle logistics and venue, but beyond setting general overarching themes and performance schedules, do not try to create a cohesive final product. As a result, the work of identifying the implications or potential utility of scholarship is left to participants- if it happens at all. Like a gallery, a conference is a place to exhibit creative works, but not a place designed to directly support collaboration and creative work.
One can find such spaces in the business world. We generally don't think of the business world as a place that supports creativity; its emphasis on process and routine get more attention. There are several reasons for this. The business and technology worlds are relentlessly competitive, and demand constant innovation. But no business product- be it software, service, or mass-produced object- can be made by individuals working in isolation; they are all collective products. So group innovation is essential- but because of the difficulty involved in coordinating the schedules of large numbers of people (particularly executives), meeting time is extraordinarily expensive.
Reinventing Events
As a consequence, the business and technology worlds have developed a variety of events that encourage creativity and collaboration, offer novel ways of promoting interactions among members, and produce lots of ideas in a short period. They have experimented with tools for improving conventional meetings, and developed new types of events- unconferences, experiential events, competitions, meetings in both real and virtual worlds, etc. They have developed creative practices that bring together heterogeneous groups of people- everyone from engineers to copyright lawyers to neuromarketers to factory managers. They have built a portfolio of meeting types organized to rapidly create of new things- products, services, ad campaigns, etc.. Finally, meeting organizers have acquired a tremendous amount of craft knowledge about what makes events succeed, and how everything from room design to scheduling to the nutritional properties of the snacks served can be tuned to encourage more creative thinking and productive collaboration.
Institutions that sponsor scientific and academic research, that want to have an impact on the world, and struggle with how to move academic ideas into the realm of policy and strategy, could adapt event types and craft knowledge created in the business and technology worlds to events in academic and nonprofit institutions. The result would be new types of events that are intellectually stimulating; offer the traditional opportunities for networking and professional development; and also mobilize the collective energy and intelligence of participants in ways that help address real problems.
I've run a few events and workshop series now that test these ideas, and I'm sure there's something serious here. It's just a matter of continuing to let the process evolve, and being mindful about how you go about creating incentives and rewards that work for all the very different parties you're trying to engage.
© 2017 Alex Soojung-Kim Pang, Ph.D.
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