I'm reading "little bets" by Peter Sims. This book argues the merits of experimenting with minor investments in ideas with the purpose of learning and refining these into potentially great new discoveries. It's making me reflect on recent little bets that have shown some successes. I was pursuing this "strategy" without really knowing it!
For instance, a little less than a year ago I put some of my lecture videos in Statistics on a website. This is set-up as a self-study course for anyone to browse:
http://psychologyaustralia.homestead.com/index.htm
This has had some utility for some people; with approximately 5,600 + views of the YouTube videos. Statistics on the web are always inflated by people who simply click once and quickly move on - never to return again. However, other statistics suggest that 200+ people are watch 5 or more videos, so there clearly is a core audience for this resource.
The video are a bit rough with poor sound and grainy video. Nevertheless, only a little bit of effort (a small bet) made this available to anyone. It has since given me some ideas about how to refine this effort, and make other instructional videos with a wider appeal (and hopefully better sound!)
Just like this blog: making content available in a somewhat "raw" form without a lot of investment allows some ability to judge ideas to see if a larger investment is warranted. As the Sims book suggests, it also keeps your ego from being too invested in ideas that might not have a great payoff if pursued in earnest. Being effective at time management requires that you should not invest without a payoff. Of course, if the cost of failure is very low - by virtue of a little bet - then not much is lost, and experience is gained about what works and what doesn't.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Sunday, March 6, 2011
There's a little problem gambler in all of us
It is a frequent observation that abnormal psychology reflects on "normal" psychological functioning. In other words, understanding people with mental illness helps us understand the minds and behaviors of people without psychological problems. Addiction is one example. There has been an explosion of recent research on behavioral addictions. In fact, this explosion has been so pronounced, that in the popular mind anyone can be "addicted" to virtually anything. Shopping addictions and Internet addiction share equal standing with alcohol and drug abuse. However, restrictive technical definitions exclude these behaviors as addictions. In particular, behavioral addictions often lack strong characteristics of tolerance and withdrawal involved in chemical addition. I have a sense of unease as to whether these properties are absolutely necessary to the concept of addiction; but also a reluctance to accept all behaviors as having the potential for being addictive - unless the term becomes meaningless.
Gambling is occupying a new and unique place, as it is now reified as an addiction in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of the American Psychiatric Association V. No other simple behavior is yet recognized as an addiction - outside of substance abuse. Pathological gambling, now called disordered gambling, has been reclassified from an "impulse control disorder" due to its growing commonality with substance abuse. For instance, most people with disordered gambling also have a lifetime substance abuse problem.
The growing acceptance of gambling as an "addiction" makes me wonder what other pure behavior will be the next to fall within the expanded definition. Is it simply the severity of harm that is caused by the behavior that uniquely qualifies a behavior as "addictive"? Internet addiction, for instance, is arguably less harmful than gambling addiction. Shopping addiction is likewise less harmful to most people. Addiction may therefore be a term that we use to recognize the more severe levels of harm caused by the various obsessions that grip all of us.
If I told you that a person engaged obsessively in a behavior that resulted in huge financial losses, alienated their family, and caused a disruption in their gainful employment : you might be tempted to conclude that this person was in the grips of a severe addiction. However, if I also told you that this person was a track-and-field star and that their "behavior" was obsessive training to excel in their sport, suddenly their behavior no longer qualifies. What obsessive behaviors we see as "normal" are bound by cultural expectations and past definitions of what classifies as an addiction. These definitions, however, are evolving.
Gambling is occupying a new and unique place, as it is now reified as an addiction in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of the American Psychiatric Association V. No other simple behavior is yet recognized as an addiction - outside of substance abuse. Pathological gambling, now called disordered gambling, has been reclassified from an "impulse control disorder" due to its growing commonality with substance abuse. For instance, most people with disordered gambling also have a lifetime substance abuse problem.
The growing acceptance of gambling as an "addiction" makes me wonder what other pure behavior will be the next to fall within the expanded definition. Is it simply the severity of harm that is caused by the behavior that uniquely qualifies a behavior as "addictive"? Internet addiction, for instance, is arguably less harmful than gambling addiction. Shopping addiction is likewise less harmful to most people. Addiction may therefore be a term that we use to recognize the more severe levels of harm caused by the various obsessions that grip all of us.
If I told you that a person engaged obsessively in a behavior that resulted in huge financial losses, alienated their family, and caused a disruption in their gainful employment : you might be tempted to conclude that this person was in the grips of a severe addiction. However, if I also told you that this person was a track-and-field star and that their "behavior" was obsessive training to excel in their sport, suddenly their behavior no longer qualifies. What obsessive behaviors we see as "normal" are bound by cultural expectations and past definitions of what classifies as an addiction. These definitions, however, are evolving.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Live by the list
The most useful advice I received on office productivity may also be the most obvious: Live by the list. This was the advice, word for word, of my first boss in a professional position; who was confronted by my disorganization and lack of progress. It has been a key to productivity for me ever since - as it has for so many. It is, of course, the most basic element of time management.
I remember seeing some time ago a related comment by David Koch, who was asked in a TV program his key to success: his odd answer being "routine". Both bits of advice, on first blush, seem a certain recipe for an uninspiring life: lacking in originality, spontaneity and creativity. My experience; however, seems to refute this, which is surprising. Why does keeping lists and maintain a routine lead to greater, not lesser, experience and expression of life?
My tentative answer is that keeping a "task list" is a potent way of focusing yourself on creating good habits and avoiding bad habits. By working only on items from the list, we create discipline in habits and (naturally) develop a "routine" organized around a personal definition of success. Reorganizing the list, adding items and subtracting items periodically, is where creativity is enhanced because we use consciousness to organize our time, rather than relying on the habits (some good, some bad) that have entrenched themselves over time.
I'm trying to become more disciplined in following my tasks lists and organizing them carefully to develop good habits. Time will tell if this continues to improve my creativity, or whether I'll reach a saturation point where I feel obsessed (and depressed) with these efforts.
I remember seeing some time ago a related comment by David Koch, who was asked in a TV program his key to success: his odd answer being "routine". Both bits of advice, on first blush, seem a certain recipe for an uninspiring life: lacking in originality, spontaneity and creativity. My experience; however, seems to refute this, which is surprising. Why does keeping lists and maintain a routine lead to greater, not lesser, experience and expression of life?
My tentative answer is that keeping a "task list" is a potent way of focusing yourself on creating good habits and avoiding bad habits. By working only on items from the list, we create discipline in habits and (naturally) develop a "routine" organized around a personal definition of success. Reorganizing the list, adding items and subtracting items periodically, is where creativity is enhanced because we use consciousness to organize our time, rather than relying on the habits (some good, some bad) that have entrenched themselves over time.
I'm trying to become more disciplined in following my tasks lists and organizing them carefully to develop good habits. Time will tell if this continues to improve my creativity, or whether I'll reach a saturation point where I feel obsessed (and depressed) with these efforts.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
You are not the Hero
I'm reading a book on building oral presentations: Resonate. This book advances some familiar advice; in particular the idea of "consider your audience." While this may seem to be so obvious as to be not worth mentioning, it is presented in a way that provided me with some new insight. To paraphrase, the author states "you are not the Hero, the audience IS", and goes on to say that you (the presenter) are more like the "mentor" to the Hero - showing the Hero the path and giving the tools and insights to succeed.
It reminded me of a recent presentation I made where I attempted to connect with the audience by some self-deprecating humor. In short, I claimed to have "stolen" the idea for the research to "advance my own career." While this may have been good for a mild laugh, in hindsight I think it presented "me" as the Hero and not the audience. I failed to consider how the audience should be the center of the presentation, and I'm only the helpful mentor in the background: a bit player, and not the center of the story.
Another useful observation is that I too rarely explicitly consider what I want the audience to "do" with the information I'm providing. Obviously, I would like others to use (and cite) my research, but I haven't explicitly shown at the end of most presentation exactly how others can use their knowledge to be the Hero of the story. In gambling-research, the my audience is often other academics, treatment professionals, industry players,gamblers and government policy makers. Next time, with hope, I'll consider each audience member and provide more of a road map to action - so that the message will not only be heard, but also acted upon.
It reminded me of a recent presentation I made where I attempted to connect with the audience by some self-deprecating humor. In short, I claimed to have "stolen" the idea for the research to "advance my own career." While this may have been good for a mild laugh, in hindsight I think it presented "me" as the Hero and not the audience. I failed to consider how the audience should be the center of the presentation, and I'm only the helpful mentor in the background: a bit player, and not the center of the story.
Another useful observation is that I too rarely explicitly consider what I want the audience to "do" with the information I'm providing. Obviously, I would like others to use (and cite) my research, but I haven't explicitly shown at the end of most presentation exactly how others can use their knowledge to be the Hero of the story. In gambling-research, the my audience is often other academics, treatment professionals, industry players,gamblers and government policy makers. Next time, with hope, I'll consider each audience member and provide more of a road map to action - so that the message will not only be heard, but also acted upon.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
On being certain
A few months ago I finished a book "On being certain", which I thought I should write something about before I forget my thoughts. It's an interesting read. The fundamental message - although hard to articulate in a limited space - is that knowing your "right" about something (presumably anything) is a "feeling" the emerges at least in part from your sub-conscious mind. The author rejects the idea that there is a rational/logical mind (the conscious) that competes with the emotional/unconsicous mind, which is an idea that dates back at least as far as Plato. Instead, "being certain" that you are right about something (the sun is yellow, 1+1=2, god exists) is always a feeling the emerges from a part of the mind that is shielded from introspective access. We can't think about "why" it is true - we just feel that it must be. This seems at first a bit esoteric, but I think it says something very deep about human thought. We come to accept that things are "true" because we observe that they are consistent with a view of the world that makes sense to us. Thus, if I have 1 apple and "add" another apple, I will have 2 apples. This "makes sense" when someone tells us this fact, because it is consistent with our perceptions.We are certain of this fact - and ultimately other facts - because they accord with a accumulated world-view that we inhert from what we see and what others tell us is true.
When we assess new facts, these are evaluated by our sub-concious mind to see how they accord with the constellation of other facts that we feel to be true. This emerges in the concious thought as a "feeling" of correctness for the puntive fact. This is an observation that is not in the book, but flows logically to me. We don't have introspective access to this process of evaluation, so we cannot know if the new fact is true, but instead get a feeling that it might be consistent with other facts that we had accepted in the past. If this is the structure of thought, it explains the stickyness of our beliefs. We cannot alter one set of beliefs easily without upsetting a delicate balance in our minds of other things that we feel must be true, even if we don't have introspective access to what the constellation of these other beliefs are.
When we assess new facts, these are evaluated by our sub-concious mind to see how they accord with the constellation of other facts that we feel to be true. This emerges in the concious thought as a "feeling" of correctness for the puntive fact. This is an observation that is not in the book, but flows logically to me. We don't have introspective access to this process of evaluation, so we cannot know if the new fact is true, but instead get a feeling that it might be consistent with other facts that we had accepted in the past. If this is the structure of thought, it explains the stickyness of our beliefs. We cannot alter one set of beliefs easily without upsetting a delicate balance in our minds of other things that we feel must be true, even if we don't have introspective access to what the constellation of these other beliefs are.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Discipline of Writing
Practice makes perfect - or so the saying goes. Perhaps more precisely: 'deliberate practice' makes perfect. A good book I recently read ("Talent is Overrated" by Geoff Colvin) makes the point that getting good at anything, including writing, requires practice (no duh!), but also deliberate and repeated attempts to challenge your abilities. Research shows that the most effective people tend to chose moderately challenging tasks - otherwise one tends to get either non-improvement (by choosing easy tasks) or frustration (by choosing hard tasks).
My entry into the blog space was prompted by the inevitable challenges of summing the discipline to write. This is, after all, an important part of my job as a lecturer (or Professor, as we ex-pat Americans like to say). I've had some really good productivity lately... but it could always be better! I thought a blog might be a good opportunity to get some more 'practice' in writing. By using a loose style, and not being too critical of my logic, grammar and spelling I hope to 'let loose the muse' and gain some valuable practice time.
It should also be interesting to see if this becomes a conversation with myself, or whether others might actually be interested to read what I'm writing about. Self-publishing is all the rage, so I'd imagine my friends and relatives might at least give it a look. The plan is to write about general "intellectual" topics that interest me (e.g., reflections on books I'm reading), or 'what' is happening in my lab. If nothing else, this should be a good space to document the evolution (or perhaps de-evolution) of my thoughts over time.
My entry into the blog space was prompted by the inevitable challenges of summing the discipline to write. This is, after all, an important part of my job as a lecturer (or Professor, as we ex-pat Americans like to say). I've had some really good productivity lately... but it could always be better! I thought a blog might be a good opportunity to get some more 'practice' in writing. By using a loose style, and not being too critical of my logic, grammar and spelling I hope to 'let loose the muse' and gain some valuable practice time.
It should also be interesting to see if this becomes a conversation with myself, or whether others might actually be interested to read what I'm writing about. Self-publishing is all the rage, so I'd imagine my friends and relatives might at least give it a look. The plan is to write about general "intellectual" topics that interest me (e.g., reflections on books I'm reading), or 'what' is happening in my lab. If nothing else, this should be a good space to document the evolution (or perhaps de-evolution) of my thoughts over time.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)