You’ve heard of the Yale Goal-Setting Study, right? The one that goes like this:
In 1953 a team of researchers interviewed Yale’s graduating seniors, asking them whether they had written down the specific goals that they wanted to achieve in life. Twenty years later the researchers tracked down the same cohort and found that the 3% of people who had specific goals all those years before had accumulated more personal wealth than the other 97% of their classmates combined. The study is used to illustrate the power of focus.
Prof. Richard Wiseman, University of Hertfordshire psychologist and self-help myth-buster extraordinaire, says it best:
There is just one small problem… the experiment never actually took place.
A 2007 article in Fast Company corroborates the stance, in a slightly more eloquent (or should that be verbose?) manner:
According to [Silas] Spengler [secretary of the Class of 1953 since graduation] — who listed his future occupation in the Yale yearbook as “personnel administration following a course of business administration at Harvard,” and who instead went into the navy and then to law school — he never wrote down any personal goals, nor did he and his classmates ever participate in a research study on personal goals.
As further evidence, Spengler provided excerpts from the 1953 yearbook. No one stated personal goals, but most of the graduates predicted their future lines of work: Roberto Goizueta, Coke’s CEO, predicted his future would be with Cuba’s Compani Industrial del Tropico S.A.; William Donaldson and Dan Lufkin, founders of Wall Street’s Donaldson, Lufkin & Jenrette, forecast futures in law. Forrest Mars, Jr., now chairman and CEO of Mars, Inc., listed “no” for employment possibilities.
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Now that TEDGlobal 2009 has drawn to a close and the videos are slowly making their way online, the latest Nature has an editorial on the TED phenomenon, suggesting that “those wishing to reveal scientific ideas should learn from the engaging style of TED conference talks”.
TED succeeds in part because participants are encouraged to talk about the unexpected. […] But perhaps the most critical key to success is the style of the talks. […]
The talks have a strict time limit of 18 minutes — no interaction with the audience, and no questions except the informal ones asked in the extended conversation breaks. […] For a general audience, 18 minutes is plenty for getting across context and key issues, while still forcing each speaker to focus on a message — whether it be advocacy or the celebration of new knowledge.
There is also a welcome absence of PowerPoint presentations. Instead there are plenty of images — but precious few professional scientific diagrams, which can quickly lose the audience’s attention. This forces speakers to craft talks that can engage sophisticated but scientifically untutored listeners at their level. And it also encourages speakers to try for a freely flowing, relaxed presentation style, without notes. […]
Scientists wishing to inspire non-scientists should look at a few of these talks online and learn a thing or two.
I would go one further: non-scientists wishing to inspire others should look to TED to learn a thing or two.
It seems you can’t spend five minutes on the Internet without coming across an opinion piece on the end of traditional media or an article riffing on the age of the blog. I’ve so far refrained from noting (m)any of these articles, mainly because the argument is becoming stale and the articles are so widespread.
Michael Massing’s latest for The New York Review of Books is one worth your time, however: it’s a balanced, detailed view on the new landscape of reporting—that of a symbiosis between blogs, online media outlets, and traditional national and international newspapers. (It also serves as a good resource to some of the best blogs around.)
This, in response to David Simon (he of Baltimore Sun and The Wire fame) likening the Internet to a parasite “slowly killing the host”:
This image of the Internet as parasite has some foundation. Without the vital news-gathering performed by established institutions, many Web sites would sputter and die. In their sweep and scorn, however, such statements seem as outdated as they are defensive. Over the past few months alone, a remarkable amount of original, exciting, and creative (if also chaotic and maddening) material has appeared on the Internet. The practice of journalism, far from being leeched by the Web, is being reinvented there, with a variety of fascinating experiments in the gathering, presentation, and delivery of news.
Laying dormant at the bottom of my bookmarks was this article Jason pointed out over four months ago: photographer Bruce Haley’s Tao of War Photography.
1. To begin with, practice this sentence: “If I get out of here alive, I’ll never do this again.” You’ll say this to yourself every single time an already dangerous situation really turns to shit…
63. Always keep in mind the following when you photograph people in war zones and other awful places:
a. You’re there because you want to be — they aren’t…
b. You can leave — they can’t…
Beware, the Flash interface makes my eyes bleed.
Doing away with the division of labour and most other economies of production, Thomas Thwaites’ Toaster Project is an experiment to “build a toaster, from scratch—beginning by mining the raw materials and ending with a product that Argos sells for only £3.99″.
Many have mentioned this already (Jason Kottke, Tyler Cowen on Margin Revolution, Radley Balko on Reason), but my favourite commentary on the project comes from The Financial Times’ Tim Harford:
The modern market economy is mind-bogglingly complex, producing billions of products, many vastly more complex than a toaster. The complexity of the society we have created for ourselves surrounds us so completely that, instead of being dizzied, we tend to take it for granted.
Yet as we celebrate our good fortune to be born at a time of such astonishing material wealth, the toaster should give us pause for thought. It is a symbol of the sophistication of our world, but also a symbol of the obstacles that lie in wait for those who want to change it. Whether attempting to deal with climate change, social deprivation, economic development or healthcare, improving faults in such a complex system is a task best approached with humility.
I believe it is obligatory at this point to mention Leonard Read’s 1958 essay, I, Pencil?