A few
weeks ago, my friend Sivakumar suggested that we could improve human life by
creating a Personal Data Warehouse, that tracked the development and abilities
of people. Imagine if you could compare
the age at which your children developed certain language or other cognitive
skills relative to their parents or grand-parents. We might be able to detect and correct
developmental problems early.
He then
makes an interesting observation about a trait in his own family, as the mental
math skills of each generation are slightly less well developed than the
previous one. He speculated that perhaps
this was the result of an increasing reliance upon technology.
Is this
true?
If it's
true, is it a problem?
The idea
that people will degenerate due to increasing reliance on technology (or
something that functions like it, such as slavery) is an old one, and has been
put forth as one of the possible causes of the fall of the Roman Empire. More recently, it was brilliantly illustrated
in Pixar's film Wall*E, where the human race is depicted as having depended on
their robotic creations for so long that they have descended into a race of
barely animate blobs, largely unaware of their surroundings, and motivated by nothing
but an increasingly desperate search for entertainment.
It's also
a very old idea that civilization is on the verge of collapsing. Some of the earliest examples of writing we
have, stemming from ancient Egypt thousands of years before the birth of
Christ, complain about how much better things were in the good old days, and
how everything since then has been going to the dogs.
How is it
that everything has been sliding out of control for so many thousands of years,
and yet there are still people around to complain about it?
I would
argue that the crux of the issue is the constancy of change. Sometimes things change rapidly, sometimes
things change slowly, but it never comes to a complete stop. Political revolutions challenge the old power
structures, waged by youth who wear outlandish
clothing, and completely ignore the accepted methods of political
engagement and boldly protest and rebel in brand new ways. And lest you think I'm talking about the
1960s, or perhaps the Occupy Wall Street movement, I actually had in mind Julius
Caesar's rise to power in the late Roman Republic. Maybe some things never change.
Change
inevitably seems destructive to the previous generation. The old values are thrown out the
window. It seems like the world is
coming to an end. And it is - their
world. What they (understandably) fail
to appreciate is that when one world comes to an end, another one rises up to
take it's place. And so the cycle
continues.
As much
as we may be annoyed by the ghastly and garish fashions that the next generation
inevitably adopts, we can presumably agree that fashion is in the eye of the
beholder, and that one generation's tastes cannot be objectively
demonstrated to be inferior to another's.
(At least if we ignore the 1970s.) But some things can be measured. Doesn't a decline in mathematical ability
across the generations indicate a genuine loss?
This can be objectively measured.
So can knowledge of critical facts about the world. Or the ability to react effectively to a
crisis. Aren't there objective
yardsticks by which we can measure gain and loss?
The Fall
of the Roman Empire once again provides an interesting case study. The population of the city of Rome had,
fairly objectively, lost their physical and psychological ability to wage
effective war. They were pushovers for
the rising powers of the Goths and the Huns.
Surely this is an objective example of civilization going to the dogs?
Maybe
not. Sometimes lost in the discussion is
the fact that the Roman Empire never exactly fell, not in the sense of having
the entire continent of Europe sitting happily as a thriving metropolis on one
day, to be replaced by a smoldering crater the next. The city of Rome was
sacked, to be sure. Some of the large
scale economic trade routes and complex industries disappeared, true. But for many of the inhabitants of the
Empire, the fall of the Empire was barely noticeable. One day they were citizens of Rome. The next day, somebody came along and told
them that for the last five years, they'd been
citizens of the Ostrogothic Kingdom.
Taxed continued to be paid, official corruption continued, and everybody
complained about how much better things used to be, when everybody wore togas and spoke proper Latin, instead of this degenerate Italian which seems to
be spreading everywhere.
And why
was it that nobody seemed interested in learning to speak proper Latin
anymore? It's not that people had
become stupid, or otherwise incapable of learning the language of their
forebears. It simply wasn't useful
anymore. What was the point of learning a
language that you couldn't do trade in, woo a girl with, or use to gripe with your
friends? It might be useful if you wanted to
read a bunch of really old books, but that didn't really describe most of the population.
So
returning to our previous question, is the loss of mathematical ability the
sign of decline? Or is it simply a
reflection that those skills no longer make any sense? What's the point, when your computer, your
phone, your tablet, and maybe even your watch can calculate any mathematical
product you can type, faster than you can type it?
Critics
of this perspective will point out that it represents a loss of
independence. If all our computers,
phones, tablets, and digital watches go simultaneously on the fritz, then we'll all be sorry
we never learned to do math properly.
Or
not. More likely, we'll wish we had
spent more time learning how to fight off mutant zombies using home made spears
and improvised explosives, because the zombie apocalypse (or something like it)
is the most likely scenario which will result in a complete breakdown of
technology.
This
brings us back to our original question: is there value in creating a Personal
Data Warehouse, which can be used to measure our skills and relative progress
across our lives and across the generations?
In theory, I'm a keen supporter of any way that technology can be used to improve our
individual lives. I like the concept.
But a
Data Warehouse is intrinsically a structured repository of data. It allows you to organize vast amounts of
data to spot complex patterns. It's a
great way to see sales trends, or weather patterns, or traffic flow, among
reams of data that would otherwise be unintelligible. The challenging part of designing a Data
Warehouse is understanding what types of questions you may want to ask, which
influences the structure of your data.
So what
are your values? What things are you
going to measure? And what makes you
think those values will continue to be valued by the next generation? My forebears might have created their own
version of a data warehouse to measure skill in archery and driving horse-drawn
chariots, skills at which I would fail miserably. But I'm pretty good at navigating a Subaru
through snow covered roads, a skill I find highly valuable. My ability to re-materialize following an
inter-dimensional trans-warp is nonexistent, a fact that bothers me not at all,
but which might make me a laughingstock if I'm still around in two or three
generations when that's the only way to travel.
I might snarl at these kids who don't know the first thing about a stick
shift, but I suspect they won't care.
So if
we're going to try to measure ourselves through time, it's going to be a trick to do so in a way that holds up over time. Mind you, I'm not saying it can't be done, but I'll have to be convinced that whatever measures we choose are truly useful over time, and not simply a reflection of our current tastes. The closest thing we have right now for this type of human record is the
memoir. It's a useful document, highly flexible in it's ability to track lots of variable data, but it lacks something
in terms of analytical and comparative analysis. At least it lasts.
Now,
should I publish mine on paper or ebook...?
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