Guest Post: The Mars Rover of Calculators

Anne Sasso's calculatorMy cell phone battery only capriciously holds a charge. My laptop battery isn’t much better. In fact, it seems that I have to replace my computer every three years because something goes kaplooey. The current one no longer emits sound. Oh, the darned CPU fan still sounds like a wheezing freight train chugging up a long, torturous incline. But I can’t hear the audio on Jimmy Fallon videos, use Google Hangout or rely on that essential noise that Outlook makes to remind me of an interview scheduled in 15 minutes.

Given my experience with electronic devices, I feel I can be forgiven for indulging in a little magical thinking related to my pocket calculator (which I’ve never actually carried in a pocket).

The pocket calculator in question? It’s a Sharp scientific calculator, model EL-5103S. It’s about the size of an iPhone 5. Today’s teenagers might even mistake it for some retro-hip version of a smartphone—until they flipped open the cover and saw the tiny screen and the vast array of buttons. Continue reading

To File or Pile?

Piles of papersWith the new year often comes an urge to purge all my unnecessary belongings. I dream of tossing entire filing boxes of documents into the recycling bin, hauling a dozen garbage bags of clothes to Goodwill, or whittling down my possessions to a few suitcases and moving into a tiny house.

This year, I was motivated to clean out my overstuffed boxes of papers after noticing a serene little hardcover book by Japanese organization consultant Marie Kondo in my neighbourhood bookstore. Kondo has one guiding principle for dealing with papers: “throw them all away,” she writes. “My clients are stunned when I say this, but there is nothing more annoying than papers.” And no, she’s not advocating scanning reams of documents onto the computer; she means banishing them for good.

After reading her advice, I sat on the floor of my office and started going through my seemingly endless folders. Old insurance policies, handwritten notes from conferences, class handouts on journalism ethics from my graduate school program, maintenance records for the 2001 Civic that I no longer owned, historical documents accumulated as part of research for a blog post written two years ago — all went into the trash. I started to warm up to the idea of discarding paper by default, instead of hanging onto it until it “expired” at some unknown future date. What if, upon receiving a document in the mail that seemed vaguely important, I immediately threw it away? Or after publishing a story, ditching my research materials within a week instead of keeping them for future stories that I never ended up writing?

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The Last Word

Craig's face

 

December 29, 2014 to January 2, 2015

LWON continued revisiting our favorite posts this week with a series of holiday reduxes, including wishes for a “bullshit-free” 2015.

Craig goes primal with some dabs of red ochre face paint during an icy trek. Tens of thousands of years ago, artistically-inclined ancestors in Indonesia used the same type of pigment to depict hands on a cave wall.

Erik tells the tale of a kindly bookstore owner, also known as Doctor de Agua, who brought much-needed clean water to a village in Bolivia.

If you want to improve your performance, try tracking your outcomes, suggests Christie. Otherwise, you might suffer from the same ignorance as doctors who push unproven treatments.

Michelle breaks down her Bullshit Prevention Protocol and explains why fact-checking “can feel like a particularly demented form of needlepoint.”

And Cameron pays her respects to her favorite chess piece, the knight.

Image credit: Sarah Gilman

Holiday Redux: Funny How the Knight Moves

1024px-Los_tres_caballos

 

LWON is celebrating the holidays by re-running some of our favorite posts. This post originally appeared in May 2014, but sadly, the fickle inhabitants of this household have moved on to blackjack and Michigan rummy.

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The jokers in the house are starting to learn the game of kings.  The set they play with is piecemeal, with a wooden toy horse for a white knight and a lump of rainbow-colored glass for one of the pawns. The board is metal, designed for playing checkers on the road. But still the jokers learn.

Until now, chess has always seemed like a burden, something I should have learned but never really did–like shorthand, or how to fold a fitted sheet.  I don’t think I enjoyed, let alone finished, the few games I played as a kid.

Yet decades later, I’ve now checked out a kids’ book about chess to find something that makes the game seem less daunting. This is it: there are games that you don’t need all the pieces to play.

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Holiday Redux: The Pocket Guide to Bullshit Prevention

LWON is celebrating the holidays by re-running some of our favorite posts. This post originally appeared in April 2014, but its applications multiply

Wishing you a very happy—and bullshit-free—2015.

I am often wrong. I misunderstand; I misremember; I believe things I shouldn’t. I’m overly optimistic about the future quality of Downton Abbey, and inexact in my recall of rock-star shenanigans. But I am not often—knock wood—wrong in print, and that’s because, as a journalist, I’ve had advanced training in Bullshit Prevention Protocol (BPP).

Lately, as I’ve watched smarter and better-dressed friends believe all manner of Internet nonsense, I’ve come to appreciate my familiarity with BPP. Especially because we’re all publishers now. (Sharing a piece of news with 900 Facebook friends is not talking. It’s publishing.) And publishing bullshit is extremely destructive: It makes it harder for the rest of us to distinguish between bogus news and something real, awful, and urgent.

While BPP is not failsafe, generations of crotchety, underpaid, truth-loving journalists have found that it dramatically reduces one’s chances of publishing bullshit.

So I believe that everyone should practice BPP before publishing. No prior experience is required: Though it’s possible to spend a lifetime debating the finer points of BPP (and the sorely-needed news literacy movement wants high-school and college students to spend at least a semester doing so) its general principles, listed in a handy, portable, and free—free!—form above, are simple.

Here’s how they work in practice.

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Holiday Redux: The Case for Tracking Outcomes, End-of-the-Year Edition

 

Earlier this year, I made the case for tracking outcomes. As we enter 2015, now is a natural time to reflect on the year that was. As I do every December, I’ve spent some time this month evaluating my work performance, my accomplishments and my failures, and, as always, the process has led me to insights that I would have otherwise missed. Here, I argue that everyone can benefit from tracking outcomes, and I explain why sometimes we resist.Doctor2

Earlier this year, I installed a little program on my computer that tracks how I spend my time. At the end of the day, it can tell me how many minutes I spent editing a specific document, how long it took me to write a blog post and how much time I spent surfing the internet or checking email. The time tracker is part of my ongoing experiment on how to better manage my time. I’d been playing around with different tools for a while when it occurred to me that I didn’t actually know where all my time was going. So I started collecting data.

The results were enlightening. I was certain that social media and LOL cats were hogging too much time, but after tracking my numbers for a little while, I discovered that those diversions were just little blips. The data showed me that email was my actual number one time suck. I’d had no idea it was so bad, probably because internet surfing feels like guilty pleasure, while email feels like work.

Simply identifying the problem represented a huge step toward fixing it. Within a week, I had doubled my productivity score and cut in half the amount of time I was wasting on email. I didn’t take any drastic measures. I added a couple new filters to improve my email triage, but mostly I just paid attention. With the little timer window watching me, I automatically became more mindful of my habits.

I’ll never be one of those people who tracks every step and quantifies every possible aspect of their lives, but I’ve become a believer in tracking how I’m doing in areas I’d like to improve. Yes, tracking outcomes is often tedious, but it’s worth doing, because it turns out that we’re not very good at judging our performance. Most people think they’re above average, and this is true across disciplines. For instance, a 2006 study published in JAMA found that, “physicians have a limited ability to accurately self-assess,” and a 2012 study found that doctors overestimate the value of the care they provide.  Continue reading

Holiday Redux: A Bookseller And His Well

 LWON is celebrating the holidays by re-running some of our favorite posts. This post originally appeared in March 2014.

SteveIn the May issue of the Rotarian Magazine next month you will be able to read the full version of a story I did last year on toxic mine runoff in highland Bolivia. It’s a nice story of a tiny valley high in the mountains and the quixotic efforts to clean its water for the people living downstream. It’s got the usual cast – dedicated scientists, NGOs, recalcitrant mine owners.

But there is one tale I found during my reporting that didn’t make it into the story. It’s a tale of Francis “Steve” Stephenson, who owned a small bookstore in Tulsa, Oklahoma. And the hundreds of lives he saved. The story starts with Steve’s son, David, a Methodist minister who’s worked on water projects in Bolivia for more than three decades. Back in 1989, he was planning a trip to visit towns outside of La Paz that were struggling to find stable sources of clean water.

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Holiday Redux: The Ceremonial Stone

LWON is celebrating the holidays by re-running some of our favorite posts. This post originally appeared in slightly different form in July 2014.

Sarah's face

Sarah dipped her fingers in a red mineral paint and lifted them to her face. She put streaks above her cheekbones and up her chin, her design standing out against a backdrop of ice and barren, snowbound mountains. We were on the surface of the Harding Icefield, one of the largest remaining ice masses in North America. Five of us had skied a camp out onto the 700-square-mile face of this icefield and were now going primal.

She held out her palm full of pigment and painted brown-red stride-marks across my wind-dried face. Then she turned to our buddy Q, a filmmaker who was following us out here, and painted his face as well.

The pigment she used, coloring across our cheeks and down the bridges of our noses, was powdered red ochre mixed in the palm of her hand with water. It was something I always carried around in my pack, and every few years there’d be a day so perfect, so beautiful, I’d break it out. We’d just climbed a series of nunataks, mountain summits sticking up through the ice, and as a celebration, I got out the ochre. Continue reading