(A continuation of our earlier posting, 600 Years Ago)
“It stretches my belief, Curmudge. You can foresee 600 years into the future?”
“No way, Jaded Julie. I can’t even see tomorrow on the calendar without my trifocals. We’re actually going to consider what’s going on today with an eye toward 600 years in the future. We’ll use the same assumptions as last time, with an average global temperature rise of 0.7 degrees C. per 100 years. Once again the wizard…”
“…the wizard? I thought he was put into a dungeon in 1410.”
“Same guy. His sentence was 600 years. Wizards have a long life expectancy, and they are very persistent. As I was saying, once again the wizard successfully peddled his global warming story to the world leaders; and their response was similar to what it had been in 1410. They held international meetings, (almost) reached agreements, and pledged (sort of) great sums of money to help developing nations.”
“The advent of the airplane certainly made it easier to attend those international meetings.”
“But it all went bust. The pseudo-agreements depended on countries acting contrary to their own economic interests. Money for developing nations, as with previous ‘foreign aid,’ would have gone into their leaders’ Swiss bank accounts. International scientific efforts were confounded by politics and vested interests, and the wizard was exposed as a pretender.”
“Curmudge, there must be a better way.”
“There is, Jaded Julie, and it is called capitalism. First let’s consider its opposite, socialism, which has been proven to be a total failure (the Soviet Union), or an opiate of the people (Western Europe). Characteristics of socialism include confiscatory taxation and centralized planning made by political appointees or bureaucrats with de facto tenure. The results of socialism are high unemployment, little opportunity for initiative and personal growth, and a passive citizenry totally dependent on the government for their welfare.”
“That doesn’t sound like a good way to solve a problem like global warming, assuming it is a problem. So how might this be approached in a capitalistic society?”
“Julie, I thought you’d never ask. To begin with, decisions made by millions of informed citizens, thinking critically for and about themselves, should be better than those made by a few powerful bureaucrats. If given respect and the opportunity to make things better, able citizens will gain an understanding of climate change and will devise ways to adapt to it or possibly avert it.”
“Hey, Curmudge, you just spoke of respect for people and making things better. That’s Lean; we finally got there!”
“Government should allow those with ability to succeed or fail depending on their own creativity and initiative. Equal opportunity doesn’t guarantee equal outcomes. If governments had always discouraged inventors and entrepreneurs, we’d still be living in 1410. In their normal mode of operation, governments only redistribute the pie; entrepreneurs make the pie bigger.”
“With that as an introduction, Curmudge, how are capitalism and Lean going to give us a better outcome from global warming?”
“Because they are betting their own money and are not depending on political favoritism, individuals should not be taken in by boondoggles. A smart entrepreneur will not develop a solution until he is certain there is a problem. As time passes and new information becomes available, he will be continuously refocusing his efforts. That is Lean-type continuous improvement on a long time scale.”
“If there really is global warming, and our best knowledge says we can’t control it, how will capitalism respond?”
“It’s pretty simple. Ariens will make more lawnmowers and fewer snow blowers. There may be more skin cancer, so more dermatologists will learn how to do Mohs surgery. We’ll adapt, and we might live longer.”
“Finally, Curmudge, why did we title this posting 600 Years into the Future? We talked mostly about the present.”
“Well, Jaded Julie, it seemed like a logical successor to our earlier posting, 600 Years Ago. Besides, a title is the author’s prerogative. I don’t recall there being a tornado in Gone with the Wind.”
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
600 Years Ago
“Today, Jaded Julie, we’re going to do some thinking outside of the box.”
“That shouldn’t be hard, Curmudge. You are outside of the box.”
“We’ll begin by making some assumptions for which there has been some evidence in recent years (1). Let’s assume that the earth’s average temperature has been rising linearly at 0.7 degrees Celsius per 100 years and that a total increase of four degrees C. converts the earth into a jungle. At 0.7 degrees per century, that would require 570 years. For simplicity, let’s round it off to 600 years and begin our story in the year 1410, i.e., 600 years ago.”
“I’m with you, Curmudge. Beam me down, Scottie.”
“Life was not easy in 1410. While the kings lived like kings, the common people in the country eked out a living in agriculture and those in the cities built cathedrals. Along came an all-knowing (so he thought) wizard who convinced the Pope and all the world’s kings, czars, and caliphs that we were faced with the future tragedy of global warming. (He was wrong. In 1410 we were actually at the end of the Medieval Warm Period.) Further, the wizard proposed that global warming could be averted by stopping the growth of the burning of fossil fuels, at that time coal and peat. The world’s leaders agreed with the wizard and decreed that his proposal be implemented.”
“I think I see what’s coming, Curmudge. The growth of a civilization parallels its energy use. If additional coal could not be mined, the development of civilization would have been arrested at 1410. I shudder at the thought; it would have been ‘Groundhog Day’ forever.”
”Worse than that, Julie. Without coal for steam engines, the Industrial Revolution could not have occurred, and our life expectancy would still be around 40 years. Even the printing press might not have been invented. In fact, most of the inventions created after 1410 would not have happened.”
“Things like cars, airplanes, computers, modern sanitation and health care, nuclear power, space flight, and Krispy Kreme donuts.”
“One bright spot, Julie. When the would-be wizard’s forecast did not materialize, he was probably thrown into a dungeon.”
“Is there a lesson in this, Curmudge?”
“Sure. World leaders should be wary of purported wizards; and if they do believe the wizard, they should not be taken in by recommendations of global, draconian measures. And finally, if the wizard is proven wrong, burn him at the stake.”
“Wow! The hot seat would seem fitting for someone who built his reputation on ‘warming.’ By the way, we didn’t mention Lean once in this story, and that’s supposed to be the subject of this blog.”
“Of course we didn’t, Julie. In 1410 Lean hadn’t been invented yet. But hang in there; Lean will be in our next conversation.”
(1) Plass, G.N. Carbon dioxide and the climate. Reprint of author’s 1956 article in American Scientist 98 (1) 58-67 (January-February 2010)
http://www.americanscientist.org/issues/feature/2010/1/carbon-dioxide-and-the-climate/1
“That shouldn’t be hard, Curmudge. You are outside of the box.”
“We’ll begin by making some assumptions for which there has been some evidence in recent years (1). Let’s assume that the earth’s average temperature has been rising linearly at 0.7 degrees Celsius per 100 years and that a total increase of four degrees C. converts the earth into a jungle. At 0.7 degrees per century, that would require 570 years. For simplicity, let’s round it off to 600 years and begin our story in the year 1410, i.e., 600 years ago.”
“I’m with you, Curmudge. Beam me down, Scottie.”
“Life was not easy in 1410. While the kings lived like kings, the common people in the country eked out a living in agriculture and those in the cities built cathedrals. Along came an all-knowing (so he thought) wizard who convinced the Pope and all the world’s kings, czars, and caliphs that we were faced with the future tragedy of global warming. (He was wrong. In 1410 we were actually at the end of the Medieval Warm Period.) Further, the wizard proposed that global warming could be averted by stopping the growth of the burning of fossil fuels, at that time coal and peat. The world’s leaders agreed with the wizard and decreed that his proposal be implemented.”
“I think I see what’s coming, Curmudge. The growth of a civilization parallels its energy use. If additional coal could not be mined, the development of civilization would have been arrested at 1410. I shudder at the thought; it would have been ‘Groundhog Day’ forever.”
”Worse than that, Julie. Without coal for steam engines, the Industrial Revolution could not have occurred, and our life expectancy would still be around 40 years. Even the printing press might not have been invented. In fact, most of the inventions created after 1410 would not have happened.”
“Things like cars, airplanes, computers, modern sanitation and health care, nuclear power, space flight, and Krispy Kreme donuts.”
“One bright spot, Julie. When the would-be wizard’s forecast did not materialize, he was probably thrown into a dungeon.”
“Is there a lesson in this, Curmudge?”
“Sure. World leaders should be wary of purported wizards; and if they do believe the wizard, they should not be taken in by recommendations of global, draconian measures. And finally, if the wizard is proven wrong, burn him at the stake.”
“Wow! The hot seat would seem fitting for someone who built his reputation on ‘warming.’ By the way, we didn’t mention Lean once in this story, and that’s supposed to be the subject of this blog.”
“Of course we didn’t, Julie. In 1410 Lean hadn’t been invented yet. But hang in there; Lean will be in our next conversation.”
(1) Plass, G.N. Carbon dioxide and the climate. Reprint of author’s 1956 article in American Scientist 98 (1) 58-67 (January-February 2010)
http://www.americanscientist.org/issues/feature/2010/1/carbon-dioxide-and-the-climate/1
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Peer-Reviewed Publications
(This is the continuation of a series of postings introduced on January 22, 2010.)
“Curmudge, the term ‘peer-reviewed’ has been in the news a lot during the past few months. This might be one of those extremely rare blog topics about which you know something. Would you be so kind as to enlighten me, or is this a subject—like differential equations—that you have totally forgotten?”
“I would be delighted to share my recollections, Jaded Julie. Because I had manuscripts peer reviewed between 1961 and 2002 and did a bit of reviewing myself, much of it has become hardwired.”
“Please give it a try, Old Guy. Let’s start by looking at the process from the author’s standpoint and how he or she decides what is publishable.”
“The critical guideline in this whole process, Julie, is integrity. If data from an experiment or series of experiments provides the basis for a finding or story heretofore unknown to the world or to others in your discipline, it is a candidate for publication. But one can’t cherry-pick his data. If some of the data don’t fit your story, they can’t simply be ignored; they can only be rejected if they are statistical outliers.”
“I can appreciate the importance of integrity. Doesn’t everyone have some element of vested interest in his research?”
“Vested interest comes in many flavors, Julie. Late in one’s career, the author’s delight in contributing to knowledge would represent the low end of the vested interest scale. At the far end of the scale is current work in atmospheric science. It seems that in that discipline one’s findings impact multimillion-dollar technological ventures, politics, and the fate of the industrialized world. The higher one goes on the vested interest scale, the greater the temptation to compromise one’s integrity.”
“So back to the guy in the lab. The author writes his paper, including data to support his hypothesis (remember, no fudging or cherry-picking) and enough experimental detail to permit someone to duplicate the work, and sends it off to a journal for publication, right?”
“Exactly. Often he must wait many months—up to a year—for the peer review process to transpire.”
“Am I correct, Curmudge, that publication in a peer-reviewed journal has traditionally been the ‘gold standard’ for scientific knowledge?”
“You are essentially correct, Jaded Julie. Remember, however, that the ultimate tests are (1) one’s work must be independently reproducible by someone else, and (2) any forecasts must turn out to be true. Nevertheless, despite all of its warts and blemishes and potential for hanky-panky, the peer review process has worked pretty well. Because my area was not highly controversial and was populated by a limited number of scientists, peer review was not very onerous for either authors or reviewers.”
“Curmudge, what’s that ‘potential for hanky-panky’ that you mentioned earlier?”
“Here’s an example. Consider a topic about which there are two schools of thought and in which editors and reviewers have a vested interest. Remember that peer review is a single-blind process in which the reviewers know the author but not vice-versa.”
“I think I can see what’s coming, Curmudge. If the editor’s position on the topic is ’A’ and the author is advocating position ‘B’, the editor can reject the paper out of hand or send it to reviewers that share position ‘A’ who will recommend rejection. I feel sorry for the poor author. He’s been shot down, but he doesn’t know by whom. And potential reviewers who are interested in position ‘B’ may wonder why they never receive any manuscripts to review. ”
“That’s it, Julie. If the author can’t find another journal whose reviewers will at least consider evidence of position ‘B’, he and position ‘B’ are effectively suppressed. This would appear to be ‘political’ science, i.e., science for the purpose of politics or vested interests. My speculation is that this might represent the untimely and unjustified demise of traditional peer review.”
“So how do we summarize the lessons of these last four postings?”
“It’s pretty simple, Julie. Be wary of politicians talking about science, of people confusing effect with cause, of scientists with a vested interest using complex mathematical models that can’t be experimentally verified, and of researchers who suppress publication of findings that don’t agree with their own.”
“Curmudge, the term ‘peer-reviewed’ has been in the news a lot during the past few months. This might be one of those extremely rare blog topics about which you know something. Would you be so kind as to enlighten me, or is this a subject—like differential equations—that you have totally forgotten?”
“I would be delighted to share my recollections, Jaded Julie. Because I had manuscripts peer reviewed between 1961 and 2002 and did a bit of reviewing myself, much of it has become hardwired.”
“Please give it a try, Old Guy. Let’s start by looking at the process from the author’s standpoint and how he or she decides what is publishable.”
“The critical guideline in this whole process, Julie, is integrity. If data from an experiment or series of experiments provides the basis for a finding or story heretofore unknown to the world or to others in your discipline, it is a candidate for publication. But one can’t cherry-pick his data. If some of the data don’t fit your story, they can’t simply be ignored; they can only be rejected if they are statistical outliers.”
“I can appreciate the importance of integrity. Doesn’t everyone have some element of vested interest in his research?”
“Vested interest comes in many flavors, Julie. Late in one’s career, the author’s delight in contributing to knowledge would represent the low end of the vested interest scale. At the far end of the scale is current work in atmospheric science. It seems that in that discipline one’s findings impact multimillion-dollar technological ventures, politics, and the fate of the industrialized world. The higher one goes on the vested interest scale, the greater the temptation to compromise one’s integrity.”
“So back to the guy in the lab. The author writes his paper, including data to support his hypothesis (remember, no fudging or cherry-picking) and enough experimental detail to permit someone to duplicate the work, and sends it off to a journal for publication, right?”
“Exactly. Often he must wait many months—up to a year—for the peer review process to transpire.”
“Am I correct, Curmudge, that publication in a peer-reviewed journal has traditionally been the ‘gold standard’ for scientific knowledge?”
“You are essentially correct, Jaded Julie. Remember, however, that the ultimate tests are (1) one’s work must be independently reproducible by someone else, and (2) any forecasts must turn out to be true. Nevertheless, despite all of its warts and blemishes and potential for hanky-panky, the peer review process has worked pretty well. Because my area was not highly controversial and was populated by a limited number of scientists, peer review was not very onerous for either authors or reviewers.”
“Curmudge, what’s that ‘potential for hanky-panky’ that you mentioned earlier?”
“Here’s an example. Consider a topic about which there are two schools of thought and in which editors and reviewers have a vested interest. Remember that peer review is a single-blind process in which the reviewers know the author but not vice-versa.”
“I think I can see what’s coming, Curmudge. If the editor’s position on the topic is ’A’ and the author is advocating position ‘B’, the editor can reject the paper out of hand or send it to reviewers that share position ‘A’ who will recommend rejection. I feel sorry for the poor author. He’s been shot down, but he doesn’t know by whom. And potential reviewers who are interested in position ‘B’ may wonder why they never receive any manuscripts to review. ”
“That’s it, Julie. If the author can’t find another journal whose reviewers will at least consider evidence of position ‘B’, he and position ‘B’ are effectively suppressed. This would appear to be ‘political’ science, i.e., science for the purpose of politics or vested interests. My speculation is that this might represent the untimely and unjustified demise of traditional peer review.”
“So how do we summarize the lessons of these last four postings?”
“It’s pretty simple, Julie. Be wary of politicians talking about science, of people confusing effect with cause, of scientists with a vested interest using complex mathematical models that can’t be experimentally verified, and of researchers who suppress publication of findings that don’t agree with their own.”
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Curmudge and Jaded Julie Talk about Models
(This is the continuation of a series of postings introduced on January 22, 2010.)
“Models, Curmudge? You mean those super-slender gals who look as if they have an eating disorder?”
“No, Jaded Julie. We’re going to talk about mathematical models; these are mathematical depictions of processes. Models were described in our discussions of queuing theory last July. Authors that we cited in Kaizen Curmudgeon a few weeks ago used models to forecast physician income in a medical home. We use value stream maps all the time as visual models to depict processes in the hospital. The equations that I learned in physics classes long ago were models of physical processes; they included statics (e.g., forces on a stationary beam), and dynamics (a ball rolling down an inclined plane).”
“Wow! There must be a model for everything. I’ll bet that the advent of the computer has made it possible to model processes that are more and more complex.”
“That’s for sure. We’ll talk more about that later, but let’s start by considering a very simple example. Our daughter moved to a new house in Madison, so I consulted MapSeek* to learn how to get there. In addition to directions, MapSeek said that our daughter’s house is 104.61 miles from ours and that it would take us 1 hour and 54 minutes to get there. In computing our travel time, MapSeek must have used the model, time equals distance divided by an estimated average speed. Their average speed was 55 mph (104.61 miles ÷ 1.9 hours).”
“I’m with you, Curmudge. Because the MapSeek routing uses Highway 26, their average speed must have been adjusted for slowing down in Rosendale to avoid getting a speeding ticket and perhaps also for the possibility of getting stuck behind a farmer pulling a load of manure on 26, a two-lane highway. But is the best route now using Highway 26 through Rosendale? U.S.-151 is now four lanes all the way from Fond du Lac to Madison. Perhaps we should give this new information to MapSeek so they can adjust their model.”
“That would certainly seem to be the proper thing to do, Julie. But let’s consider this hypothetical case. Suppose the MapSeek people own a coffee shop in Rosendale. They wouldn’t want to change their recommended route and their model because it would hurt their coffee shop’s business. That’s called having a vested interest in their model and the data that go into it. MapSeek would prefer that we shut up about there being a better route; perhaps they might even try to suppress all discussions of alternate ways to go from Appleton to Madison.”
“Hey, that’s not fair! We all depend on MapSeek for the correct information.”
“It’s a sad story, Julie. We can see through what Mapseek might do because it’s hard to color the results from a simple, transparent model based on a classical equation. In addition, Mapseek’s work can be easily tested empirically. But when a bunch of suspect data are poured into a complex computer model that is arcane, abstruse, and tentative, anything can happen. That is especially true when someone has a vested interest in the outcome.”
“(Although Curmudge uses words that are known to only a few people and are hard for the rest of us to understand, I get the picture.) Hey, Curmudge, your story is a parable, isn’t it? May I explain its lesson?”
“Go ahead, but don’t get too specific.”
“Think critically. Be slow to accept the conclusions of investigators attempting to model a complex process when their work is supported—even indirectly—by people with a vested interest in their results.”
*Our apologies to MapQuest for using a name similar to theirs in this totally hypothetical example.
“Models, Curmudge? You mean those super-slender gals who look as if they have an eating disorder?”
“No, Jaded Julie. We’re going to talk about mathematical models; these are mathematical depictions of processes. Models were described in our discussions of queuing theory last July. Authors that we cited in Kaizen Curmudgeon a few weeks ago used models to forecast physician income in a medical home. We use value stream maps all the time as visual models to depict processes in the hospital. The equations that I learned in physics classes long ago were models of physical processes; they included statics (e.g., forces on a stationary beam), and dynamics (a ball rolling down an inclined plane).”
“Wow! There must be a model for everything. I’ll bet that the advent of the computer has made it possible to model processes that are more and more complex.”
“That’s for sure. We’ll talk more about that later, but let’s start by considering a very simple example. Our daughter moved to a new house in Madison, so I consulted MapSeek* to learn how to get there. In addition to directions, MapSeek said that our daughter’s house is 104.61 miles from ours and that it would take us 1 hour and 54 minutes to get there. In computing our travel time, MapSeek must have used the model, time equals distance divided by an estimated average speed. Their average speed was 55 mph (104.61 miles ÷ 1.9 hours).”
“I’m with you, Curmudge. Because the MapSeek routing uses Highway 26, their average speed must have been adjusted for slowing down in Rosendale to avoid getting a speeding ticket and perhaps also for the possibility of getting stuck behind a farmer pulling a load of manure on 26, a two-lane highway. But is the best route now using Highway 26 through Rosendale? U.S.-151 is now four lanes all the way from Fond du Lac to Madison. Perhaps we should give this new information to MapSeek so they can adjust their model.”
“That would certainly seem to be the proper thing to do, Julie. But let’s consider this hypothetical case. Suppose the MapSeek people own a coffee shop in Rosendale. They wouldn’t want to change their recommended route and their model because it would hurt their coffee shop’s business. That’s called having a vested interest in their model and the data that go into it. MapSeek would prefer that we shut up about there being a better route; perhaps they might even try to suppress all discussions of alternate ways to go from Appleton to Madison.”
“Hey, that’s not fair! We all depend on MapSeek for the correct information.”
“It’s a sad story, Julie. We can see through what Mapseek might do because it’s hard to color the results from a simple, transparent model based on a classical equation. In addition, Mapseek’s work can be easily tested empirically. But when a bunch of suspect data are poured into a complex computer model that is arcane, abstruse, and tentative, anything can happen. That is especially true when someone has a vested interest in the outcome.”
“(Although Curmudge uses words that are known to only a few people and are hard for the rest of us to understand, I get the picture.) Hey, Curmudge, your story is a parable, isn’t it? May I explain its lesson?”
“Go ahead, but don’t get too specific.”
“Think critically. Be slow to accept the conclusions of investigators attempting to model a complex process when their work is supported—even indirectly—by people with a vested interest in their results.”
*Our apologies to MapQuest for using a name similar to theirs in this totally hypothetical example.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Curmudge and Jaded Julie Talk About Cause and Effect
(This is the continuation of a series of postings introduced on January 22, 2010.)
“Jaded Julie, I’m concerned that many people don’t understand basic science.”
“If basic science means physical chemistry and thermodynamics, I would be concerned that you are concerned. In fact, Curmudge, I would consider you to be an unrealistic zealot.”
“No, Julie. I mean really basic grade-school stuff. Let’s write a play to illustrate a very simple lesson. The time is almost 400 years ago, and the setting is the city of Florence in northern Italy. My character is called Cattivo Uomo, and you will be Spossate Infermiera.”
“Which are, of course, Nasty Man and Jaded Nurse in Italian (actually, the adjective should follow the noun, i.e., uomo cattivo).”
“The curtain has gone up, and you and I are up early watching the sun rise.”
“What a beautiful sunrise, Cattivo.”
“It happens every morning, Spossate, just like clockwork.”
“We would be in big trouble if the sun didn’t go around the earth so regularly. It must come closer in the summer when it gets so warm here. Then the glaciers in the Alps melt back. Thankfully, it gets cooler at night when the sun is around on the other side.”
“Can you think of any other explanation for our days and nights, Spossate?”
“It seems pretty obvious to me that the sun goes around the earth. Everyone sees it rise and set, and that’s what they believe.”
“I’ve heard about another explanation…that the sun stands still at the center of our universe, and that the earth rotates once every 24 hours.”
“Outrageous! Who said that, Cattivo?”
“It was our neighbor, Mr. Galilei. His ideas are gong to get him into a lot of trouble.”
“Our play’s over, Julie. Curtain down. Did it teach you a lesson?”
“I’m shocked that 400 years ago virtually everyone thought that the sun moved around the earth every day, but that was the easiest explanation.”
“We know now that the accepted explanation was false. So what is the lesson that our story teaches?”
“I’ve got it, Curmudge. No matter how evident the effect, it does not prove the cause.”
“Jaded Julie, I’m concerned that many people don’t understand basic science.”
“If basic science means physical chemistry and thermodynamics, I would be concerned that you are concerned. In fact, Curmudge, I would consider you to be an unrealistic zealot.”
“No, Julie. I mean really basic grade-school stuff. Let’s write a play to illustrate a very simple lesson. The time is almost 400 years ago, and the setting is the city of Florence in northern Italy. My character is called Cattivo Uomo, and you will be Spossate Infermiera.”
“Which are, of course, Nasty Man and Jaded Nurse in Italian (actually, the adjective should follow the noun, i.e., uomo cattivo).”
“The curtain has gone up, and you and I are up early watching the sun rise.”
“What a beautiful sunrise, Cattivo.”
“It happens every morning, Spossate, just like clockwork.”
“We would be in big trouble if the sun didn’t go around the earth so regularly. It must come closer in the summer when it gets so warm here. Then the glaciers in the Alps melt back. Thankfully, it gets cooler at night when the sun is around on the other side.”
“Can you think of any other explanation for our days and nights, Spossate?”
“It seems pretty obvious to me that the sun goes around the earth. Everyone sees it rise and set, and that’s what they believe.”
“I’ve heard about another explanation…that the sun stands still at the center of our universe, and that the earth rotates once every 24 hours.”
“Outrageous! Who said that, Cattivo?”
“It was our neighbor, Mr. Galilei. His ideas are gong to get him into a lot of trouble.”
“Our play’s over, Julie. Curtain down. Did it teach you a lesson?”
“I’m shocked that 400 years ago virtually everyone thought that the sun moved around the earth every day, but that was the easiest explanation.”
“We know now that the accepted explanation was false. So what is the lesson that our story teaches?”
“I’ve got it, Curmudge. No matter how evident the effect, it does not prove the cause.”
Friday, January 22, 2010
Curmudgeon and Jaded Julie Read the Newspaper
“Curmudge, I see that you are reading the editorial and opinion pages of the newspaper.”
“It takes less time, Jaded Julie. The regular news pages contain a lot of useless stuff like the latest indiscretions of professional athletes and entertainers, and they often omit information that is truly important. In addition, the ‘news’ sometimes contains ‘spin’ that is hard to detect.”
“Okay, so what’s wrong with spin in the news?”
“If you see the ‘spun’ information again and again, you might eventually believe it. Ultimately, it may become an urban legend (the Brits call it an urban myth) in which you acquire unquestioning faith.”
“That doesn’t sound good, Curmudge, especially if the info is wrong or at least uncertain. So why should this subject be of interest to people working in health care?”
“Virtually no one that I know in health care has time to read the news critically. Perhaps we can provide some guidance to help them avoid getting hoodwinked by what they read. We’ll also give a refresher on the ethics of ‘speaking with data.’”
“How can we do that, Old Guy?”
“In our next few conversations we’ll suggest some cautionary signals that will alert the reader to possible spin. Things like confusion over cause-and-effect and the possible impact of vested interest in reported information. We’ll also mention some less familiar, but in-the-news, topics like mathematical models and peer-reviewed research publications. One story will be a parable, and another will be a play starring you as a tired-out Italian nurse, Spossate Infermiera.”
“Wow! I can hardly wait. But I’ll bet there are some people out there who are so set in their beliefs that they will consider your ideas to be just the ranting of an old man.”
“That’s okay, Julie. My age is my license to rant.”
“I presume that every one of our conversations will have a lesson. Can we add a short lesson to end your tirade for today?”
“Sure, Jaded Julie. Here it is: When a writer quotes a politician who is talking about science, put on your skeptic’s hat.”
“It takes less time, Jaded Julie. The regular news pages contain a lot of useless stuff like the latest indiscretions of professional athletes and entertainers, and they often omit information that is truly important. In addition, the ‘news’ sometimes contains ‘spin’ that is hard to detect.”
“Okay, so what’s wrong with spin in the news?”
“If you see the ‘spun’ information again and again, you might eventually believe it. Ultimately, it may become an urban legend (the Brits call it an urban myth) in which you acquire unquestioning faith.”
“That doesn’t sound good, Curmudge, especially if the info is wrong or at least uncertain. So why should this subject be of interest to people working in health care?”
“Virtually no one that I know in health care has time to read the news critically. Perhaps we can provide some guidance to help them avoid getting hoodwinked by what they read. We’ll also give a refresher on the ethics of ‘speaking with data.’”
“How can we do that, Old Guy?”
“In our next few conversations we’ll suggest some cautionary signals that will alert the reader to possible spin. Things like confusion over cause-and-effect and the possible impact of vested interest in reported information. We’ll also mention some less familiar, but in-the-news, topics like mathematical models and peer-reviewed research publications. One story will be a parable, and another will be a play starring you as a tired-out Italian nurse, Spossate Infermiera.”
“Wow! I can hardly wait. But I’ll bet there are some people out there who are so set in their beliefs that they will consider your ideas to be just the ranting of an old man.”
“That’s okay, Julie. My age is my license to rant.”
“I presume that every one of our conversations will have a lesson. Can we add a short lesson to end your tirade for today?”
“Sure, Jaded Julie. Here it is: When a writer quotes a politician who is talking about science, put on your skeptic’s hat.”
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Curmudgeon's Wastebasket--a Companion to Kaizen Curmudgeon
“It’s a new year, Jaded Julie, and change is in the air.”
“I thought it was just a breeze blowing in from a farm outside of town. So what’s the change, Curmudge?”
“Do you recall our holiday greeting last month? To say the least, it was not all sweetness and light. I was concerned that we might offend someone by referring to Orwell’s book, 1984. There are over 4,000 employees at Affinity, and we dare not offend any of them in a corporate blog like Kaizen Curmudgeon.”
“It sounds as if you are saying that the content of Kaizen Curmudgeon must be plain vanilla, pristine pure, and squeaky clean. But a totally noncontroversial curmudgeon is an oxymoron. I suppose you’ll change your name to Santa Claus and mine to Snow White.”
“No way, Julie. Kaizen Curmudgeon will be unchanged. We’re going to start a personal blog to be a companion to the Kaizen Curmudgeon corporate blog. Let’s call the new blog Curmudgeon’s Wastebasket.”
“Might as well. That’s where the Kaizen Curmudgeon rejects go when we deep-six them, especially if they contain something controversial.”
“What is controversial, Julie, depends on the reader’s outlook. Nevertheless, our intent for Curmudgeon’s Wastebasket is just like that for Kaizen Curmudgeon—to share information with readers that they might not otherwise encounter. Our focus will continue to be Lean, health care, and leadership, but we’ll leave room for other topics—stuff that is so compelling that it demands to be shared.”
“I’m concerned, Curmudge. How will readers know about Curmudgeon’s Wastebasket? Should we publicize it by shouting from the top of the parking ramp? Maybe we could establish a ‘Code Curmudgeon’ to be announced whenever there is a new posting.”
“It shouldn’t be hard. We’ll just put a link in Kaizen Curmudgeon to direct readers to each new posting in Curmudgeon’s Wastebasket.”
“With all of these changes, I hope you are not forgetting about Lean.”
“This is Lean, Julie. We are respecting our readers’ sensitivities and continuously improving our blogging.”
“I’m with you, Curmudge. See you in Curmudgeon’s Wastebasket.”
“I thought it was just a breeze blowing in from a farm outside of town. So what’s the change, Curmudge?”
“Do you recall our holiday greeting last month? To say the least, it was not all sweetness and light. I was concerned that we might offend someone by referring to Orwell’s book, 1984. There are over 4,000 employees at Affinity, and we dare not offend any of them in a corporate blog like Kaizen Curmudgeon.”
“It sounds as if you are saying that the content of Kaizen Curmudgeon must be plain vanilla, pristine pure, and squeaky clean. But a totally noncontroversial curmudgeon is an oxymoron. I suppose you’ll change your name to Santa Claus and mine to Snow White.”
“No way, Julie. Kaizen Curmudgeon will be unchanged. We’re going to start a personal blog to be a companion to the Kaizen Curmudgeon corporate blog. Let’s call the new blog Curmudgeon’s Wastebasket.”
“Might as well. That’s where the Kaizen Curmudgeon rejects go when we deep-six them, especially if they contain something controversial.”
“What is controversial, Julie, depends on the reader’s outlook. Nevertheless, our intent for Curmudgeon’s Wastebasket is just like that for Kaizen Curmudgeon—to share information with readers that they might not otherwise encounter. Our focus will continue to be Lean, health care, and leadership, but we’ll leave room for other topics—stuff that is so compelling that it demands to be shared.”
“I’m concerned, Curmudge. How will readers know about Curmudgeon’s Wastebasket? Should we publicize it by shouting from the top of the parking ramp? Maybe we could establish a ‘Code Curmudgeon’ to be announced whenever there is a new posting.”
“It shouldn’t be hard. We’ll just put a link in Kaizen Curmudgeon to direct readers to each new posting in Curmudgeon’s Wastebasket.”
“With all of these changes, I hope you are not forgetting about Lean.”
“This is Lean, Julie. We are respecting our readers’ sensitivities and continuously improving our blogging.”
“I’m with you, Curmudge. See you in Curmudgeon’s Wastebasket.”
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