What happens when connectivity goes down?

The theory

One of my readers commented that things aren't as "black & white" as I put them in my last post on connectivity. Of course, reality is never, ever, ever, as neat as theory. I'd like to elaborate a bit more on what happens when we go from high to low connectivity, just because, from the point of view of most people, it's their idea of unmitigated disaster. A lot of connection is good, little connection is terrible.

In the first example I gave, I said the difference between a dead body and a living one is that a living body is highly connected. In that case, losing connectivity sounds like very, very bad. That is, until you realise how nightmarish would be a world if nothing could die. We couldn't eat, for a start: we animals can only eat other living things, and they must die, either before or while we eat them. So nobody would have any energy to move. There would be absolutely no space for anything new to be born, because soon all the available space would be taken up by living beings. Most changes would be impossible. It would be a crowded, stuffy, static, unchanging world. And that's exactly what tends to happen in highly connected environments where there are few ways of releasing connections. When it happens between people, this situation is called "bureaucracy"; when it happens in a forest, it's called a climax forest community, that will easily become something else as soon as something disturbs it. When it happens in a computer network, techies tend to call it "an expensive mess".

Going from high to low connectivity means that links are lost. As I explained in What's in a link?, links usually mean one or several of three things: time spent together, material flows, or information flows. If a link is broken, something is released: there's either more time or materials available (sending and receiving information also use up time). In ecosystems theory, the expressions "in collapse" and "in release phase" are often used interchangeably: an ecosystem that's losing connectivity is collapsing, but there are also plenty of resources being released that opportunists can use up. It's a necessary stage before renewal is possible.

Any time that a connection is lost, it's good to think: what is being released? It's a very common problem in an organization or group within an organization to try to keep it going even when everybody knows that it isn't doing very well and it isn't producing the results everybody hoped for. If you are involved in any group that is in this situation, it may be useful to describe the situation as resources that want to be released. What time and materials are people investing in this, that might be invested in something better if the group was disbanded?

Some people may have the attitude that it's better to do a little than nothing at all, and they may be correct. But this can be an even stronger argument for release. Some situations can be kept for long periods of time in a bad, but not bad enough state, because enough is being done to keep things going to a minimum, but not enough to get the results that are really needed. If all attempts to increase time or resources allocated to the task have failed, releasing can be the method that gets some alarm bells ringing. If the situation is really a lot worse if nobody does any work at all, somebody will notice that.

Going back to the question I asked myself on the previous post on connectivity: What effect is going to have peak oil, when transport becomes more and more costly? It's a fair bet that transport will reduce, and when those connections are lost, what is being released? Clearly, a lot of materials will stay where they were instead of zipping around the world. Instead of the rather uniform look that we have today in all the cities in the world, places will have to return to have their unique flavour. Different places will build houses with different materials, the same will go for furniture and most heavy things. Even wind turbines could be done with local materials and local techniques. Very light, expensive things will probably still trade round the world. In the old times, it was spices, in the future it will almost certainly be electronic gadgets. On the other hand, some heavy things will have to start looking very different. Cars, for example, may become something much more like boats: expensive and often highly customized. Not many people will have them, and those people will be divided among the rich and those that need it for their livelihood (imagine truckers living in their trucks).

On the other hand, if we stay just as connected when it comes to information flows, it means that all that busy time we spend trying to talk to hundreds of people will be still used up. Some people say that they expect post peak oil time to be slower and calmer, thinking it will be like pre-industrial times. I see no reason to think that. If we stay just as connected in terms of information, we'll keep rushing around madly trying to juggle a hundred things in our heads the same as before.

In my last post, I compared our possible future situation after peak oil seriously affects transport with an imaginary animal that had no proper circulatory system but had a nervous system. I said I didn't think there was such an animal. I was wrong: jellyfish don't have blood vessels, but they do have a nerve net. It helps a lot that they live in the sea, and seawater goes through all of their body and transports the oxygen and nutrients to all their cells. It's interesting that jellyfish have a rather impressive ability to regenerate, especially in their polyp form (the simplest stage of their lifecycle). I find jellyfish more interesting than most trees (that have a more complicated circulatory system but no nervous system); if my wild analogy has any use at all, future times will be more interesting than pre-industrial times. The individual cells of jellyfish are far more complex than the individual cells of trees, in fact, they have some of the most complex cells of any living creature. Maybe, and this is a wild guess, people will have to be as complex as they can be to cope with the future that's coming, and at the same time very resilient and able to re-create a human settlement starting from very little.

Wild speculations aside, it will be a good time for those that can think of a loss of a connection not so much as a loss, but as a release.

The practice

Experiment 1

If you have ever noticed anything about gardens, you'll have seen that one of the main differences between a garden an a patch of land that's been left to grow wild is that people create a lot of barriers in their gardens: walls, paths, clearly demarcated patches, seeds put carefully in some places, fertilizers and other additions to soil put selectively in some places but not others, areas that are watered and areas that aren't, weeds and insects more or less selectively eliminated. A lot of what gardeners do creates barriers and removes connectivity in the garden ecosystem.

The experiment is the following: see what happens when you don't do that. On a corner of a garden or allotment, plant seeds of your favourite flowers or vegetables all mixed up. It's more interesting if you do this under a tree. You can keep the area disconnected from the rest of the garden, but inside that area, let everything be as connected and mixed up as they like. What happens? Ideally, keep this running for two years. Do you understand better some of the things you've been told to do with certain plants? Which kinds of barriers make sense and are useful?

Experiment 2

Most of us have been told that keeping connections alive is very good. What this actually means is that many of us are overconnected.

Do this experiment to find out if you are overconnected:

1. List your usual commitments over a month, and how much time you dedicate on average to them. This should include work, family, time spent with friends, and time spent with specific hobbies or other activities you think are worthwhile.

2. Next to it, list how much time you would like to dedicate to each of them over a month, in an ideal universe where days had as many hours as you need. After this, calculate how many waking hours your ideal day would have. If it's more than 16, you know that you are overconnected.

3. Decide which ones of these connections to release, until your day only needs 16 waking hours.

Experiment 3

Are you involved in any group that is in the situation described in the theory section, still going but not really producing much results? In that case, it may be good to get all the people in the group to answer the following questions:

1. How much time and what resources are used to keep the group going?

2. What would the time and resources be used for if they weren't captured by the activities of this group?

3. What would happen if nobody did any of the things that the group does? Would it ring any alarm bells?

Then, try to decide collectively if there is a good argument to release.

Connectivity

The theory

When I wrote the post about death I had a good old rant about what I was feeling like ranting about at the time. Quite understandable rant under the circumstances, I hope you'll agree. But I've been thinking about it since, and I realised, I missed a great chance to describe one of the fundamental differences between a living body and a dead one. Again, sorry if you find the subject unpleasant, but old-fashioned analytical thinking misses a lot of the important stuff here, and systems thinking can say plenty that is useful.

The old way of telling if a body was dead or alive was to check if the heart was beating. Nowadays, we have machines that can keep the heart beating forever. The new way of telling if a body is dead or alive is to check if the brain is still active. The first method tells us if the circulatory system, that keeps blood flowing throughout our body, is still active. The second method tells us if the nervous system, that keeps information flowing inside our body, is still active. Both methods are testing a fundamental property of a system: connectivity. Blood and nerve impulses are the two flows that keep all the cells in our body heavily interconnected. Eliminate one or the other, and the body isn't a person any more, but a collection of cells. And once they stop being well connected, individual cells can't manage to stay alive on their own for very long.

Connectivity means how much each part is connected to other parts, or more accurately, the strength of the relationships between different parts. In other words, how much changes in one part of the system affects other parts of the system. For example, the transport system of rich countries and the different organs inside the body have high connectivity; beachgoers and tiger communities have low connectivity.

People who worry about oil depletion (peak oil), worry because they know that oil is essential for transport in the world. And less oil means that the world will go from being highly connected and globalized, to less connected. The burning question is whether this is going to happen in the way of a catastrophic collapse (as it happens when an animal dies) or the change can be reasonably gentle (like people losing touch with their friends in college as they get older).

To make the question even more interesting and difficult to answer, the world has recently increased enormously in connectivity in terms of information, and soon will have to reduce connectivity in terms of flow of materials. Imagine that in the early days of the evolution of animals, when they first developed a nervous system, nerves had developed incredibly fast, but shortly afterwards animals were forced to reduce the flow of blood dramatically. Is this even possible? I don't know of any example of an animal with a highly developed nervous system and a very simple circulatory system, but then, the analogy may not be useful at all.

The only thing we know for sure is that highly connected and poorly connected systems are quite different. Many people fall in the trap of thinking that one kind is fundamentally better than the other (nowadays, the "highly connected" fans are quite loud) but there isn't a better kind: it all depends on the situation.

A good way of understanding the differences between highly connected and poorly connected systems is to think about how people behave in groups when they are constanly keeping in touch with each other, in comparison with situations where people behave independently and don't communicate a lot.

Highly connected groups produce great collaboration and coordination. They produce big solutions to big problems. Decision-making is often pretty good, because different points of view have their say. They can also produce big, visible actions. That's the plus side.

The minus side is that usually some people get excluded, and some individuals may feel threatened or forced by the group to do things they didn't really want to do. They often have a poor analysis of different options ("group think" only happens in groups!). And they aren't very good at watching their surroundings, highly connected groups are often inward-looking.

On the other hand, poorly connected groups have the advantage that anyone can easily join (not many connections to make!). They easily adapt to specific needs of specific individuals. They are also good at analysis and observation, that's why we speak positively of independent analysis and independent observation.

On the other, negative hand, poorly connected groups can only produce small scale solutions. There is little coordination, which makes a whole lot of plans impossible. They aren't good for making decisions, because there isn't enough deliberation among their members. And any actions are in a small scale.

All these considerations may be very handy when you are trying to find solutions to specific problems. Is it better resolved by a highly or poorly connected group?

The practice

Experiment 1

Think of an organization you are part of (it could be your place of work or a voluntary organization you take part in). What are the main aims of the organization? How well connected are the people within it? Is the level of connection well suited to what the organization is trying to do? If not, how could you increase or reduce the level of connection?

Experiment 2

Go to the nearest garden to where you live. It could be a park or a vegetable garden, it doesn't matter. How much interaction do you think there is between different plants? Does it look highly or poorly connected? (Hint: Plants can't move, so the connections between them are often done by animals. Does it look like there are many or few species of animals living there?)

What do you think it would look like if it was more or less connected? (Another hint: as a rule of thumb, the taller the plants - trees - in an ecosystem, the more connected it is. This may not apply in highly artificial environments. Can you imagine why this rule of thumb works? Interestingly, this also applies to human habitats, highly connected cities usually have the tallest buildings. Again, can you imagine why?)

The hierarchy of life

The theory

In my last post, I broke my own rule of trying not to mention in a post a technical term that I haven't explained in previous posts. OK, I had excellent reasons to break the rules, but still, I'd like to compensate for it by explaining immediately afterwards.

The term I used was the hierarchy of life. This is a very useful concept when you are trying to understand how living systems operate at different scales. Small living systems organize into bigger living systems, all the way up to the whole Earth (to use the technical word, the whole biosphere). To make it easier to understand, I'll use human beings as an example, and I'll skip some of the levels that are less interesting.

• Cells: At the lowest level, or bodies are made up of cells. (Well, this isn't really the lowest level, but the things that happen at a smaller scale than this aren't fascinating unless you like peering into electron microscopes). Cells are nothing but tiny living things, that live their little independent lives, and can happily survive on their own if the conditions around them match exactly what they find inside our bodies. Cells are constantly dying and renewing inside our bodies. Most of the cells that make up your body now didn't exist seven years ago.
• Organs: Cells make up all your organs: the heart, the brain, the stomach, etc. Each organ is a relatively independent system: if you hurt badly your leg, your heart will continue beating without any trouble.
• Human bodies: Your body is made up of all your organs working together in a beautifully orchestrated system. Human beings are quite independent of each other and can survive on their own for long periods, but without each other's help their physical and mental wellbeing is in danger.
• Villages, towns and cities and their bioregions: People live together in populations of different sizes. Some living creatures create their own ecosystems around them, and humans are particularly impressive in that respect. They bring all sorts of materials from long distances to build their refuges, and they eliminate most other living creatures except a few that they like (grass, park trees and pigeons) and a few that have become extremely good at adapting to the conditions they create (cockroaches and rats). Cities need agricultural land around them to support them, and together they can be called a bioregion, that can exist relatively independent of the surrounding land.
• The Earth: There is a rather fancy, long and complicated word to describe all the bits of the Earth that have been touched by human presence: the anthroposphere. By now, this is pretty much the whole Earth, so we'd better call a spade a spade. Life on Earth depends on the Sun to continue existing, but apart from that, it exists quite independently. James Lovelock is famous for his theory that the whole Earth is a self-controlling system, though some people have their doubts, and they ask: and how did it become self-controlling? I'm agnostic on the question of whether the Earth has been a self-controlling system for millions of years (though the evidence is compelling). But I'm pretty certain that by now, when humans are controlling just about all the ecosystems, the Earth is definitely self-controlling. Whether the Earth is currently doing a great job of controlling itself is a matter of debate, the latest news on climate change suggest it's doing quite poorly.

This is a useful overview of all the scales in the bigger picture, and I won't repeat this again. From now on, most of the posts are going to focus on scales somewhere in between individuals and cities, with the occasional jump to the whole Earth.

The practice

Experiment 1

Watch Powers of Ten. Just watch it. It should be required at schools. I never figured out how anybody is supposed to understand their place in the Universe without this.

Experiment 2

The hierarchy of life, as I described it, is done in a few big jumps. There are actually a lot of smaller intermediate levels. Try to think all the intermediate levels between an individual and a whole city.

There isn't a single correct answer to this one. Try to discover several possible ladders. How much influence do you have at each of those levels? Which ladder makes you look more important? Does any ladder make you think you need to learn more about something?

Death: when the wheel of life stops

The theory

Sorry for late posting (but I'm cheating, backdating for future readers) but I have an excellent excuse: I received the news that my husband died on summer solstice day. This leads me to a change on plans on the theme for the post: it just will have to be death. (If you find the subject unpleasant, I'm sorry, but it's one of those unavoidable and fundamental things, you might as well get used to thinking about it.) And I'd like to reply in this post to two questions that somebody sent me when he commented on my recent widowhood: "Do we exist beyond death? And what does 'we' mean here?"

Before going any further, I'll have to explain what is death from a systems perspective. The fundamental difference between a living body and a dead one is that the dead one isn't moving, isn't breathing, and is starting to decompose. In other words, it's a system that isn't self-sustaining or self-controlling any more. The wheel of life has literally stopped.

But the interesting thing about most self-controlling systems is that they don't exist in isolation. That's certainly true for all living creatures. We could do a journey from the smallest to the biggest scale, what's called the hierarchy of life, and I will do exactly that on my next post.

Big living systems are made up of small living systems: bodies are made up of cells; cities are made up of human beings and the things, animals and plants they bring with them; and the Earth is made up of... well, everything in the world.

Big living systems couldn't exist if there weren't small ones, but they can survive quite well the death of a single of their small elements, even the death of many of them. In fact, big living systems are completely dependant on the constant renewal of their small elements. Our skin is in constant renewal, and the surface of our skin is made of dead cells, constantly renovated with new skin (that's why peeling the very outer layer of your skin doesn't hurt at all: it's completely dead). Our society simply couldn't function if people stopped dying tomorrow. And the Earth could be in some serious trouble if any ecosystem started expanding beyond its usual boundaries... wait a moment, is that what agriculture has been doing to the planet for the last five thousand years?

So the systems answer to "Do we exist beyond death?" is something like Bill Clinton's famous quote: "It depends on what the meaning of the word 'is' is." What scale of existence are we talking about? From the scale of a single cell, it isn't always straightforward to tell if the body it's in is dead or alive: hair keeps growing for a few days after death. And from the point of view of a cell - imagining such a simple living thing has something like a point of view - they live the lifetime of a cell, and many die well before the body dies. And looking at a bigger scale, anything slightly bigger than a single body - a family, even - one death is a relatively minor event: the family definitely continues existing beyond the death of one of its members.

The whole point of may religious, spiritual, and ideological traditions seems to be that focusing just on your body is the wrong way of looking at things: "This body is not your own." And they pretty strongly recommend focusing on a bigger system, at the narrowest your community, at the largest the whole Earth.

Now, nobody is going to stop you focusing on whatever you like. If you want to believe that your soul resides in your little left toe, that's up to you. You might have trouble explaining why some people seem to survive and be fundamentally the same after amputation of their little left toe, so maybe you want to choose a more vital organ. I haven't got any money to make selling any sort of heaven, so I don't really care what you want to believe. You can think that what you fundamentally are is in some tiny part of your brain or that it's spread all over your family, your country, or the whole Earth. It's all one to me.

All I'm saying is that just because the wheel of life stopped in one little living system, nothing has changed much: it's still turning in the same way in the bigger systems, all over the world, and everything is just the way it's always been. I don't know how that makes you feel, but I quite like that.

The practice

Experiment 1

Take a small pet, preferably one very lovable, and k... Ooops, I forgot a lot of the English-speaking world doesn't like black humour.

Okay, I think I'm leaving this one mostly up to you. I'm sure you've seen something living die, I just want you to ask yourself this question: how did you know that he/she/it died? What stopped happening? Would you say that the wheel of life just stopped all of a sudden, or did it turn slower and slower?

Experiment 2

As I said above, big systems are usually more resilient than small ones. On the other hand, if a big system dies, all of its parts often die as well. Taking this into account, how safe is your job (or any source of income that you have)? Consider the following:

- How important is what you do or what you are for your source of income? In other words, how likely is your source of income to survive without your help?

- How important is your source of income for society at large? In other words, how likely is society to survive without your source of income?

Making lists: sorting out eggs in different baskets

The theory

A commenter on the popular post on feelings was quite pleased with the classification of feelings, and other readers seem quite fond of my habit of classifying and sorting things into lists (for other recent examples, see What's in a link? and the terribly listy Different kinds of motives ). And some have asked: "How do you do it?"

The easy answer is: a lot of the time, I don't do it. Please don't think that the content of this blog is all original material! It's a mixture of things I've read elsewhere and my own musings. I should probably link to the sites where I get my ideas from, except that a lot of the time I don't remember. And I often bolt together the ideas of several different people with my own, and post the Frankenstein monster. I don't know what is the politically correct way of presenting that, so I just don't bother.

Still, I sometimes come up with my own classification of something or other (none of the examples above, I'm afraid). Sorting things is a very powerful way of thinking and I'm surprised that how to do it isn't usually taught at schools.

You can classify anything in three easy steps:

1. Write down all the types of that thing you can think about. Let's say you want to classify eggs. You could write down something like: big eggs, small eggs, brown eggs, white eggs, chicken eggs, duck eggs. Most people leave it at this step, and that's why they aren't very good at sorting things out.

2. Ask yourself: Are the categories overlapping? Are some categories included in others? In the eggs example, you could think: "Well, duck eggs are always bigger than chicken eggs. Do I care about the size more or less than I care about the bird? Hmmm, I think what I really care about is the bird. Maybe I shouldn't be talking about big and small eggs at all, and just classify depending on bird." Then you could look at the white and brown eggs and think: "Hmmm, both ducks and hens can have eggs of different colours. Do I care about the colour more or less than I care about the bird? Do I care about the colour at all? Hey, I think I do care about the colour, but I care about the bird more." After you've thought this, you will have a nested list like this:

a. Chicken eggs

a1. Brown chicken eggs

a2. White chicken eggs

b. Duck eggs

b1. Blue duck eggs

b2. White duck eggs

If you do this, you will have a decent classification, but it will leave things out, and that's why you need the next step.

3. Ask yourself: Have I covered all the possibilities? In the eggs example, when you ask yourself that question you'll realise you've opened a whole can of worms! How many different birds are there? At this point, you'll probably want to find some way of restricting the possibilities. Do you care about all eggs of all birds, or just the ones that you have seen sold in the market? Do you care about any possible colour an egg can be, or just the ones you've seen? To make the example easier, let's say you only care about eggs that you've seen sold in the market. Your market may look different to mine, but here is my classification:

a. Chicken eggs

a1. Brown chicken eggs

a2. White chicken eggs

a3. Spotted chicken eggs

b. Duck eggs

a1. Blue duck eggs

a2. White duck eggs

c. Quail eggs - spotted

Classifying gives you the key to solve many problems, that's why so many people love it! But, like any way of thinking, it gives you something but it also takes something away from you. Once you have all your eggs sorted in baskets, you'll find it hard to think about them in any different way.

There's a story about classifying that I love: An anthropologist went to a tribe to do tests on how "primitive thinking" is different from "civilized thinking". He showed the elders of the tribe a heap of several types of their common food and several tools they used to grow food, and he asked them to put them in groups. The elders put each food next to the tool used to grow it. The anthropologist very happily started making notes on how primitive thinking couldn't separate tools from food. Then one of the elders explained: "This is how a wise man would group them." The anthropologist, with a twinge of suspicion, asked: "How would a fool group them?" The elders promptly put all the food on one side, all the tools on the other.

The practice

Experiment 1

Go to the nearest patch of wildlife to your home and start classifying wild flowers. The result of this experiment is more interesting the less you actually know about different types of flowers. Never mind if you don't know the names for all the flowers, invent names for the ones you don't know.

Once you've done this, get a book on wild flowers, identify the flowers you didn't know before, and compare your classification with the one in the book. Which one do you think is better? (Hint: if you think yours is better than the one that generations of experts have found, your ego may need a bit of resizing. Then, you might have found a particularly bad book.) What does the book take into account that you didn't?

Experiment 2

This is quite a useful thing to do with any problem you have, when you can think of many (more than three) possible solutions and you can't make up your mind which one is the best one. Classify the solutions! Classifying solutions can make decisions a lot easier, because one or several of these things may happen:

• You realise that several of the possible solutions are actually quite similar, and you don't need to decide straight away which of them to choose, you can pick this path and make the final decision later.
• You realise there is an overlap between some of the solutions, and you can pick two of the solutions at once.
• You realise you haven't considered all the possibilities, and one of the possibilities you didn't think of before is in fact what you'd prefer.

Give it a try the next time you have one of those problems!

Working at different scales: from small to big

The theory

My post on feelings started some interesting email conversations, and one of them ended up talking about roles in Greek tragedies. I find this an interesting digression, because roles are something that happens in groups, and it's high time to start talking about what happens in groups.

We think about groups of anything - people, animals or rocks - because it's an easy mental shortcut. Imagine that you were looking at a field with sheep and you saw each sheep individually - you'd soon be overwhelmed by trying to think about so many sheep. Instead, we look at a field with sheep and what we see is a flock of sheep. We can think of all those sheep as a single entity. Makes life a lot easier. As long as all the elements in a group are similar enough and behave similarly, it works quite well.

But this leads to a very common mistake, which is thinking about groups as if they were the same thing as one of the elements of the group. For example, when talking about international politics, people often say things like: "The States want this and France wants that and Greece wants this other thing." The truth is, even Greece is a country with millions of people who want all sorts of things, and I'm sure there are precious few things that all of them want (I can only think of oxygen). Even if you are saying "Greece" as a shortcut for "the Greek government", it's still a lot of people we are talking about, who presumably have a number of disagreements.

You may be thinking that you can tell what a group of people collectively want if they put their disagreements to a vote. But it's a bit more complicated than that. Groups just aren't the same thing as an element, no matter how easy your life would be if it worked like that. For example, people normally have clearly ordered preferences. Give anyone a list of possible things to do, and a bit of time to sort out their thoughts, and they'll be able to order it from most to least desirable. Groups just don't have that. A simple example with three friends: Alice would prefer to go to an art exhibition, next to the beach, and last to the cinema. Bob would prefer to go to the beach, next to the cinema, last to an art exhibition. Charlie would prefer to go to the cinema, next to an art exhibition, last to the beach. You get the idea. The group, collectively, can't order their preferences.

To make things even worse, small groups aren't the same beasts as big groups. A small clump of trees isn't the same thing as a large forest. (You won't find deer in an isolated clump of trees usually.) A town isn't the same thing as a city. (Try walking down the street dressed in bright green and orange in a small town and in a big city if you don't get my meaning.)

This means that things that worked at small scales often stop working when they grow to bigger scales. Or things that work at large scales may not work at all at a small scale. Growing is a very tricky business indeed, as any child could tell you. You can't grow every bit at the same pace and in the same proportion. (Ever wondered why all infant animals are chubbier than adults? Because if they had exactly the same proportions as adults, they'd be terribly cold. Even physical laws make growth complicated.)

In future posts, I'll get into more details of how different scales require different approaches, but for the moment, I'd like to leave you thinking about it.

The practice

Experiment 1

Look for bodies of water in your area of different sizes: a puddle, a pond, a lake or river if there is one near you, the sea if you live near the coast. They are all in the same area, so they should be very similar, but as you probably have noticed already, they are very different. What animal and plant life can you see in each of them? In what ways are they different? Can you find out why are they different? (For example: Why does the sea have waves? Why is it salty?)

Experiment 2

Think of all the groups of people you belong to, and order them from smallest to biggest. The first one should be only you, the next should be you and your partner if you have one, the next your family. Include anything you can think of: your circle of closest friends, the organization you work in, the team of people you work with, any association you belong to, your neighbourhood, the location you live in, your country. Can you notice things in common in the smallest groups? Can you notice things in common in the biggest groups? In what way are small groups different from big groups?

Think

The theory


Looking back on old emails, I've noticed again one that I haven't really posted anything about. My reader asked what were my thoughts on "rational" vs "irrational" thinking. My understanding is that when people say "rational" they mean that somebody is making a decision based fundamentally on their thoughts, ignoring their feelings, and if they are making the decision based on their emotions, ignoring their thoughts, they are "irrational".

If you look again at the wheel of life, you'll notice that there is an arrow from Think to Feel, and an arrow back from Feel to Think. That's because our thoughts affect our feelings, but our feelings affect our thoughts as well. If you are in a forest and you think there are wolves around, you will be afraid. But if you go into a forest and you are already scared (maybe because you were running away from your angry uncle), you are much more likely to think that that strange noise could be... a pack of wolves!

That's why most of the time, we find it very difficult to disentangle our thoughts and our feelings. I read once that making a difficult decision is like trying to weigh a litter of kittens when the kittens are jumping from one plate of the scales to the other constantly. There is a lot of truth in this: for difficult decisions, our mind constantly jumps from juggling up a lot of thoughts and possibilities to focusing on a lot of stomach-churning, mixed feelings. It's no surprise it's hard to make up your mind!

There are two easy, but not very good, solutions to this problem. One is not even trying. People who don't even try are often labeled "irrational" by people who make an effort to disentangle thoughts and feelings. This isn't very fair, because everybody thinks. The other solution is suppressing your feelings. This isn't a great idea either, as I said on the post about feelings.

The best solution, as Greek philosophers discovered 2,500 years ago, is to disentangle them, look at them separately, and make your decisions after you are quite clear which things you are thinking and which things you are feeling. This is what their courts of law did, and what they still do nowadays. The jury is asked to do the thinking: Do you think, beyond reasonable doubt, that this person did this and that? Then the judge is the one who decides on the sentence: what does he or she feel is the right punishment for those actions?

If your thoughts and feelings don't seem to be entirely consistent with each other, ask yourself why until you feel confident that you understand the situation well enough to make a decision. This method allows you to double-check: when your thoughts and feelings are in line, you can be pretty sure that you are in the right track; if not, it gives you the space to try and figure out what is really going on there before you make a choice.

To disentangle your thoughts from your feelings, what you need to do is focus on the facts of the matter. What do you think are the facts, whether you like them or not? And how certain are you of them? You can be 100% certain of things you have watched yourself. You can't be 100% certain of things you've been told, you'll have to estimate the uncertainty: How much do you trust this person? What reasons do you know they might have to lie or hide facts? Then there are things you think about it, what you deduce of things you've seen and you've been told. Again, how certain are you of your deductions? It may be useful to ask yourself the questions that are asked in courts of law about probabilities: which facts do you think are most likely true on the balance or probabilities? And which facts do you think are almost certainly true, beyond reasonable doubt?

Only after you've thought about the facts, you can go back to your feelings. How do you feel about each of these facts? How do you feel about the facts that you believe are true but aren't certain? How would you feel if you were wrong about those facts and you made a choice assuming you were right?

After you've done this, what is the picture that emerges? Do you have a clearer idea of what your goals are? (you should, really, or you haven't done your homework properly). Do you have some idea on how to deal with the obstacles? Have you made up your mind on what to do? Have you changed your mind on what to do? Do you still want to do anything at all? Would it be better to wait for something? Or does the issue look more urgent than before? And the most important question: what are your options, realistically?

If you've gone through all this, chances are that by now you are quite sure about which way to choose. If not, future posts may be able to help.

The practice

Experiment 1

There is little doubt that humans are the best thinkers of all animals. In fact, some of our problems probably come from humans becoming so good at thinking in so little evolutionary time - nature hasn't ironed out all the wrinkles yet for making a really good thinker. Unfortunately, this leads to two common, but wrong, attitudes from humans to animals: One is believing that humans are so superior they can do anything they like to animals, they're not much better than plants. The other is believing that animals are almost like humans, just with different bodies. Truth is, animals think a lot more and better than plants, but not quite as well as humans.

The best way of finding what is the right attitude towards animals is simply watching, playing and experimenting with them. If you have a pet, set some simple problems to them and see if they can figure out the answer. "Simple" may mean really, really simple. Apparently earthworms can learn a simple T-shaped maze, and eventually know that nice compost is always found on the right side.

Experiment 2

Pick any issue that has been bothering you, the kind that feels like kittens are jumping from one plate of the scales to the other constanty. Go through the questions in the theory section above. After thinking all this, does it appear any clearer?