- jonnathanson parentSee, what's interesting to me is that the grandparent comment describes "50 Shades" as ~8 hours of reading. The zero-sum argument assumes that reading time is some fixed value for all people. I don't remember how long it took me to read "50 Shades," but it was significantly less than 8 hours, and couldn't have been more than an hour. (I'm not saying that to brag. It takes me a lot longer to do many other things than many other people. My only point is that the author of the article completely ignores throughput variability in his calculus.)
- Depth and breadth, in this case, are not opposite directions on a straight line. They are vectors that only appear oppositional when viewed under specific time constraints. The more prolific a reader you are, the more efficiently you read, and thus your higher throughput dramatically compresses time.
If we're to speak about very specific increments of time and units of reading material -- say, you get to read N books over 1 week -- then sure, the zero-sum argument holds. But a lifetime is so much time, offering so much opportunity to the experienced reader, that time is almost effectively lifted as a constraint.
The only zero-sum quantities in this case are time and number of books. Depth and breadth of subject matter are better described as characterizing subcategories of #_books.
- No, I'm not literally suggesting people have infinite time on their hands. Rather, what I'm suggesting is that time compresses when you're reading for pleasure. When you reach a certain "level," shall we say, you read so naturally and so widely and so frequently that it is truly astonishing how much you can read in a day.
Then again, I'll continue to caveat all of this by saying that my subjective experience seems increasingly abnormal every time I read someone's advice on how to read (or write). The idea of deliberately practicing a style or a voice is weird to me. I've always written by ear, and I've never thought about it. I've thought about structure, and character, and perspective, and logic, and all of the other elements that go into writing well. But when it comes to voice and style, well, shit, man. You pick it up as you go along, and you learn to trust it. It strengthens, not weakens, with exposure to breadth.
One last time: I'm going to go out on a limb and say that my experience is probably weird.
- While I don't disagree with the author on his points, I find them premised on faulty logic. His thesis assumes that depth and breadth are zero-sum pursuits. I suppose they are if time and energy are limiting factors, but to those who read and write for the love of the game, those limits are lifted.
When it comes time to settle down on a voice and hone your craft, sure, I would never recommend you switch up your style for the hell of it. But if you want to read widely, and if doing so refines your style, great. Go for it. It probably will.
Again, the way the author characterizes this 'problem' is jarringly foreign and antithetical to my own experience. Perhaps I lack the objectivity to see it the way the author does.
- This article is horseshit. I'm a professional writer, and I'll trust Oates and King over whoever this guy is.
"Read widely" isn't some religious dictum. It's more of a religious calling. (Of sorts.) If you love to read, and you love to write, you naturally read all fucking day. Your thirst is unquenchable. Your tastes are varied. So you drink from many different fountains.
You also realize there is no trade off between depth and breadth. It's a false dichotomy. It seems to be manufactured by people who find the act of reading some sort of chore. I do not. I find it the highest pleasure I have ever experienced.
Perhaps there's a difference between being naturally curious and being forced to read broadly. I dunno. I've never had to be forced. I like reading and writing the way many of us like programming. I'm truly sorry if the author does not. Writing's a hell of a shitty way to make a living; I can't imagine what it'd be like if you didn't at least enjoy the sport of it.
- My god, this brings back some formative memories. Memories of AOHell. Memories of HappyHardcore, the self-styled hacker who claimed authorship of it. Memories of hanging out in Warez chat rooms, where everyone showed up in phished accounts to trade 'warez' and conspire to troll various AOL communities. Memories of taking apart System 7 shareware games with ResEdit and, in so doing, learning how they worked.
Those were the days, man.
- I think you're right, but I do like pishpash's solution of converting to currency value at the time of theft and then applying some sort of interest calculation. This divorces the damages of the theft from the hypothetical asset value of milkshakes over time.
- So essentially we set damages at t0 currency value of the milkshake, plus interest over N years. Seems reasonable.
If milkshakes were illiquid, and could only be bought and sold every N years, that would seem to peg damages to asset value instead of currency value. Or am I wrong?
- I'm inclined to agree under that assumption. [Edit: same!]
- In the scenario I've presented, I think you're correct. This is because milkshakes are liquid (both literally and figuratively), and because they are replaceable.
If we add the condition that milkshakes are not replaceable, does that change the outcome? I'll stfu now if this is derailing things.
- Hypothetical problem... Let's imagine a universe in which milk is a rare commodity, and milkshakes are worth their weight in gold. In this world, right now in 2017, 1 milkshake trades for $100 USD. You have a milkshake, and I have a milkshake. So we each hold the equivalent of $100. I drink your milkshake, effectively stealing $100 from you.
Fast forward to the year 2020. Milkshakes are now worth $1,000,000 USD. Have I deprived you of $100, or have I deprived you of $1,000,000? (Note that we can't seem to use retroactive NPV analysis in 2017, since in 2017 we had no way of accurately predicting how milkshakes would be priced in 2020.)
On the one hand, I appear to have imposed a severe opportunity cost on you. On the other hand, I haven't taken the world's only milkshake from you. So what I've literally stolen from you in 2017 is the present value of the milkshake, $100.
IANAL, and I will confess that I have no idea how a court of law would evaluate this case. But in economic terms, it certainly feels as though I've deprived you of more than $100. So what have I actually taken from you?
[EDIT: This post was meant to pose a question. It was not meant as a frank disagreement with the parent post per se. I've cleaned up the wording a bit to try to make it clearer.]
- Atlantic salmon aren't "different" enough from the various Pacific salmon species to occupy their own niche in the Pacific Northwest. If the big ones are too big for you, there are also medium-sized species and smaller species.
The Atlantic salmon is a big, predatory fish that needs to eat a lot of smaller species to stay alive. In the Pacific Northwest region, pretty much every species that could sustain the Atlantic salmon is also preyed upon by an extant, native salmon variety of some stripe. If the Atlantic salmon possessed some sort of advantage in obtaining one prey species or another, then there you go, there's a niche it can adapt to. Thus far, we haven't seen that advantage materialize, or the niche appear.
I apologize if some of the nuance of this point was lost in my "bigger, faster" figure of speech. My tl;dr here is that exotic species don't just magically, automatically win in a new environment simply because they're exotic. To thrive, their exoticism needs to confer some specific competitive advantage within the local ecosystem. I'm struggling to see what that advantage is for the Atlantic salmon in the Pacific Northwest, simply because the oceans and waterways in that region are teeming with very, very similar competitors.
- I would be highly suspicious of anything calling itself "wild" and "Atlantic" in the same breath. There is almost no wild Atlantic salmon fishery left in the United States and Canada. It's all farm raised. Occasionally you can find legitimately wild Atlantic catch in Scotland or Norway. But wild catch makes up less than 1% of all Atlantic salmon on the market.
So if you want wild salmon, start by looking for a Pacific label, a listed species, or a regional designation of some kind. That's still not a guarantee, but it narrows things down quite a bit.
For what it's worth, 90% of all salmon on the US market is farmed. So if you're at a restaurant or a BBQ and aren't sure what you're getting, you're probably getting farm-raised Atlantic salmon.
- Right, but genetic diversity of the breeding population would be very low, making the population itself very fragile. And that's assuming the spawn survive their first season. (Most young salmon spawn do not survive, and those not native to the local waters face unique challenges.)
This doesn't seem to be a case where the invading species gains an immediate upper hand in its new environment. (Cf., the rampant python population in the Florida Everglades.) In this case, the invading Atlantic species faces stiff and probably superior competition from the various Pacific salmon species, which are every bit as big and fast, and which fill the same ecological niche. Hell, a Pacific Chinook will get twice as big as an Atlantic salmon. It also knows the territory, including where and what to hunt, and its wild instincts haven't been dulled in a fish farm.
If I were a betting man, I'd wager on the native Pacific populations over the scattered pockets of farm-raised exotics nearly 99 times out of 100. Barring human involvement, of course. If we hunt the Pacific species out of existence, or damage the environment beyond recognition, all bets are off.
- The conflict of interest (companies are also advertisers) is powerful, and it appears to be exerting a significant effect on the directional reliability of aggregate reviews for any company large enough to be a major advertiser. Companies can badger Glassdoor into removing negative reviews, and Glassdoor will ask few to no questions before taking summary and unappealable action in the company's favor.
The negative reviews are pretty much the only interesting data points on the site. Take them with a grain of salt, sure. But you have to take the positives (especially large cohorts of positives over short time intervals) with the whole freaking salt shaker. The aggregate scores offer some directional guidance, but bear in mind that you are not looking at the total sample size of reviews; you are looking at the sample size after the company has culled and gamed what it can, which is often quite a lot of the original pool.
This is sort of like the directional reliability of eBay scores, now that there is a short decay on past reviews, and pretty much anyone with 10 minutes on their hands can get negative reviews expunged.
- Coyotes never really went anywhere; in fact, they seem to thrive in the same marginal suburban and semi-wild niches that deer do. Coyotes don't generally prey on deer, however, and hence they're not a perfect substitute for the lost wolves and bears. (Coyotes are too small and slow to take adult deer, except in snowy conditions.)
We have reintroduced wolves to national parks like Yellowstone, evidently with great success. I hope we do the same in other national parks if/where needed. Wolves do not prey on humans, contrary to popular belief, and generally keep a lot of distance from wandering hikers or campers.
Nature may not be "fair," but all things considered, I'd rather we let the wolves do the job of deer population control than humans. We are not as good at it, and we also pump the ecosystem full of heavy metals while we're shooting at the critters.
- They're not good markets, and even if they were, they fall far short of the Segway's original goals as a mass consumer product. There is a reason Segway is often used as a cautionary tale in product circles, and as as "What not to do" case study in academia.
- Yes, hence why I use the term "ancestral wolves" and not simply "wolves," in the hopes of avoiding confusion. Many people assume dogs are simply some sort of captured/degenerated/infantilized versions of the modern-day grey wolf. This is not at all the case. The likely ancestor of the domestic dog was an ancient lineage of Middle Eastern/Eurasian wolf that is presently extinct and did not survive the last glacial maximum -- because humans hunted its megafaunal prey to extinction. Dogs used to be classified by most textbooks as subspecies of Canis lupus, the grey wolf. Increasingly, genetic analysis shows that Canis familiaris might properly be its own species.
The dog was, in all likelihood, domesticated multiple times over multiple thousands of years in various parts of the globe. The lineage that survived to present is likely to have come from the Fertile Crescent area, even though its domestication predates the agricultural revolution. (Dogs joined us when we were hunter-gatherers, and cats joined us when we settled down to store grain and thereby attracted rodents).
I am not convinced that non-human apes "domesticated" the dog the same way we did, even if modern apes seem capable of taking actions superficially analogous to domestication. Ancestral wolves specifically followed human camps around and lived among us for (presumably) thousands of years before it even occurred to us to domesticate them as such. By that time, nature had 'pre-selected' them for us -- the friendly and cooperative ones, who could survive at the margins of our hunting parties, outcompeted their more feral cousins, who kept their distance from humans and then starved when the mammoths ran out. The first ancient wolves we came into frequent, nonviolent contact with were, in all likelihood, the result of many generations of natural selection before we set about artificially selecting them.
Ironically, and counterntuitively, dogs were more naturally fit than wolves to survive in the early days of the Homo sapiens.
- I'd highly recommend reading a book like "The Domestic Dog," which was recently updated with a new edition in 2017. It contains all of the latest science and anthropology around the origins of the human/dog relationship.
The tl;dr is that dogs really do identify us as family, and in all likelihood, the first ancestral wolves to become domesticated dogs took as many co-evolutionary steps towards us as we did them.
Humans and dogs have been evolving alongside each other for at least 15,000 years. The sorts of dog breeds that can't survive in the wild (bulldogs, etc.) are a fairly recent innovation in all of that time, dating back to the mid 1800s and the emergence of the modern breeding program.
Dogs like being with us as much as we like having them around. They were the first domesticated species, and they are literally the only mammals we know of who can read human facial expressions and emotions as well as the great apes can. Our relationship with them is a partnership, not an enslavement.
If you want to take issue with the way humans treat animals, there are so many better targets for outrage than our treatment of the dog. Take the cow or the chicken, for instance, most of whom lead a tortured and awful existence and would want nothing to do with us in a state of nature.
- As barkingcat suggests, pretty much every country on the planet that has normalized diplomatic relations with China formally accepts the One China policy. This is part of China's chess strategy for forcing the world to accept its ownership of Taiwan.
I will go out on a limb for a second and suggest that the day will come soon enough when the United States formally bends the knee on this issue as well. We are headed in that direction much faster than anyone anticipated.
The 'free world' has chosen to worship the Almighty Dollar as its lord and sovereign. China is where most of your dollars come from now. Ergo, China has the mandate of market-capitalist heaven, and you work for China now.
- Taleb is a gifted statistician who often wanders out of his element to make broad, bold, but perfunctory claims about various subjects. You kind of have to take his work for what it is: the work of a really smart, but arrogant guy who likes to shoot first and aim later.
Personally, I prefer his academic papers to his pop-sci blogging and books. But I still can't help reading him. He isn't always right, but he's usually interesting.
I agree with you that he would benefit tremendously from a strong editor.
- Please point out where and how you believe I've been "poking fun at the system," or predicting its downfall, or in some broad way denouncing the US, as you seem to suggest I am doing? Critiquing an element of a system does not = opposing that system in its entirety. In this case, the element I take issue with is our short-term-optimized view of the value of human capital. Essentially, we fail to rationally calculate the NPV of a skilled worker's contribution as he or she grows more skilled over time.
In the context of this subthread, which you have missed entirely, I am explaining to someone outside the US what's led to the rise of the contract labor force here in the US, and providing a framework by which we might view the different types of contract labor in our industry. That is all I am doing. That is the whole, fairly narrow subject of my post.
Yes, I'm pointing some fingers in very specific directions where blame is due. I'm hardly denouncing the whole US system, or even the whole financial culture, and I'm hardly throwing the baby out with the bathwater. To be clear, neither is the Wharton professor in the interview we are ostensibly here to discuss.
You have also failed to cite a single number, which is ironic, given the crux of your post. You have provided a broad sweep of claims without citation or data. Put some specific numbers on the table if you're going to make them the basis of your argument. (And hopefully someone else can take you up on that argument, because once again, it's not at all the argument my post seeks to open. If you want to bait me into some broad argument about whether or not the US system is superior to the European or Chinese or Turkish or Brazilian or whatever system, I am not interested in taking the bait.)
Going forward, I'd appreciate if you actually took the time to read what I am saying in the context in which I am saying it. Instead, you seem to have latched onto my use of the words "MBA" and "Reagan" and possibly "Europe," and have thus attempted to beat me in some imaginary debate on a point I didn't even make. If all you're here to do is torch strawmen, you won't find many interested takers.
- (Warning: this post contains personal opinions and analysis, some of which might be deemed political.)
There are really two classes of 'contract work' in the US.
The first class is what I'd call skilled specialists. These are your independent marketing consultants, security experts, developers, designers, copywriters, etc. These folks are usually, but not always, fairly experienced. They take up contracting or consulting as a career choice, and while they have to hustle to stay above water, they accept the hustle as the price of freedom from a corporate life. Often they work remotely. If they're strong and well-networked, they have some leeway in negotiating fees and terms for their services. The catch is that there are very few availabilities on the market for their services at any given time, and most firms don't appropriately value those services. As such, skilled specialists thrive or stumble on the strength of their reputations and rolodexes. Many of them have served for years in the corporate world, or in high level academia. They may have the ability to reeenter corporate America at will, e.g., for a client who really wants to bring them in house.
The second class is what I'd call no-choice contractors. These are most often (but not always) younger workers, whom a company will hire for short term jobs, and then spit back out whenever it's done with them. Many of these workers are placed by temp agencies, or respond to open positions for fixed term jobs, and would probably take full time jobs if the jobs were available to them. This category includes seasonal hires, unskilled laborers, and skilled laborers placed at companies on short-term assignments with the vague (and usually fruitless) hope of ascending to full-time status.
Skilled specialists are a much smaller pool, on the whole, than no-choice contractors. And many skilled specialists are but one wrong decision, or bad run of luck, away from slipping into the no-choice pool.
If you're unfamiliar with US corporate culture, the best way to understand my distinction is to first realize that labor lost the war with capital here about 30-odd years ago. During the Reagan era, labor rights one might take for granted in Europe were effectively positioned here as socialistic, and thus cancerous to the 'competitiveness' (read: profit margins) of the firm. Wall Street and hedge funds, along with prevailing MBA management culture, have convinced us that the flexibility afforded to big firms by contracting out their jobs is necessarily a good thing. It allows them to be more nimble, and to operate with a higher degree of tactical freedom from quarter to quarter, or from year to year. More important, if not all important, is that a contract labor force is better in the short run for returning shareholder value.
This line of reasoning is very attractive, but almost too attractive. What we have now is a system, and a culture, that treats more and more jobs as holes to be filled, and which treats individuals not as prospects to be groomed, but as cogs to be worked hard and replaced when worn out. We have also traded strategic thinking for tactical thinking, and we no longer understand the difference. But that's a rant for another time, perhaps. :)
- "If plants were tested after production for indicators of plant health and labels could be put on vegetables indicating quality"
It's a fine idea until Monsanto, et al., find a way to subvert the standards and bend them into an anticompetitive regulatory mote via government lobbying.
What we really need, as Step Zero in any plan for wholescale reformation of American society, is to reimpose and reinforce campaign finance restrictions and sever the direct financial ties between our big corporations and the politicians who serve them.
Some readers may choose to see this as a line item on the progressive wish list. I see it as a necessary precondition to any attempted societal change whatsoever. Right now, the very heart of our issue is that the government no longer serves the people of this country; it serves moneyed interests, nakedly and shamelessly.
Obligatory Star Trek reference: America has become Ferenginar. We think we're the Federation, but we're headed down the wrong path for that. We are effectively an oligarchy at this point, heading in the direction of totally dysfunctional kleptocracy. The "us vs them" mindset tearing us all apart right now is a symptom of political polarization, which the lobbyists would consider to be a feature and not a bug. Until our voices matter to politicians more than David and Charles Koch's billions, we're fucked. Nothing will change, and anything we try to change will be immediately corrupted and turned against us. The fox bought the whole damned henhouse.
- Sorry if you were somehow offended by my considering the needs of those we rarely consider. You're more than welcome to read through my posting history and see that this is possibly the first time I have ever mentioned the subject on HN. It may well be the last time. And in case it wasn't abundantly obvious through subtext, I'm mentioning it out of personal experience.
I read, and contribute to, quite a few financially oriented threads on HN. I don't see this subject brought up all that often, and certainly not as ubiquitously as you suggest.
I understand what you're trying to say within the narrow context of this thread ('hypothetical: earn $160k and never work again'). It's the whole "Must we hear this every time??? UGH!" aspect of your tone that really bugs me. But this subthread is veering far enough off topic as is, so I'll just leave it at that.
- Interesting. The calculus is certainly different among billionaires (personal experience sample size = maybe 3 or 4, and no, sadly, I ain't one of 'em myself!).
The billionaires I've met, who by and large own and don't rent, have what I'd call three distinct use cases for private air travel: business, social, and family. Business travel can range from more or less daily to at least 3x per week. Family travel is less frequent and generally limited to whole-family trips, but said trips can and do occur a lot more frequently when you have those means. And then there are what I'd call social trips -- a bucket into which I'd lump anything from charity events, to fundraisers in DC, to golf tournaments, to spur-of-the-moment trips to the house in Aspen or the Hamptons.
Said billionaires, if asked, would consider most of the above to be business trips, because their business lives never stop, and some measure of business is usually baked into most trips -- even if it's a quick stop at one city to conduct business before heading on to the vacation spot.
- Let's say I have a child with special needs, be it giftedness or disability. If I want to provide my child with decent care and quality of life in the SF Bay Area, a household income of $160k is going to make things very difficult. Not impossible, but certainly very hard, and likely harder than anywhere else in the country.
In this case my "spending habits," as you put them, might include expenses like routine hospital or clinical bills, specialist care, or some sort of domestic help. Double all of that if my child is physically as well as mentally disabled, or if my child exhibits some sort of prodigy that I want to nurture properly.
You have to remember that the price of goods and services in this local economy is largely driven by those earning some significant multiple of our hypothetical $160,000.
- I'd also imagine you are logging a lot more hours, facing more intense time pressures, and possibly flying some really irregular or odd-hours routes when you're flying cargo.
- My gut tells me that calculus goes by the wayside when you're flying Bill Gates around the world, or even just flying your 'garden variety' billionaire and his/her family around the country. I could be totally wrong here, because I'm neither a jet owner nor a pilot. But I've worked around enough uberrich people in my day to know that their domestic staff gets paid really well, and I have to believe a private pilot cracks into the sixes rather handily. Whether or not he/she cracks $200k is another matter, but it seems likely.
There aren't very many of these jobs going around at any given time, and they involve exhaustive security and background clearances. You are also privy to a ridiculous amount of inside info flying these guys around everywhere, and you need to be trustworthy, i.e., come with references from other billionaires and such. It's a very hard world to break into, and if flying commercial paid better than this did, no one would bother trying.