What sorts of activities are equivalent to death?

My friend getting a master’s in public health said that he wanted to do a presentation showing how many tsunamis worth of human life were being lost on a continuous basis because of poor public health in countries such as Mali where the life expectancy at birth is 45 years.  My response was that he should add in a calculation of the equivalent lives lost doing personal computer system administration.  For example, if I wanted to upgrade my desktop PC (vintage 2002) it would cost me a week of time re-installing applications such as Adobe Photoshop and my flight planning tool.  A week lost to sysadmin is actually worse than a week lost at the end of one’s life when one would be less vigorous.


The question then arose “What sorts of activities in a Western society are so boring that they should count as a reduction in our life expectancy?”  Friends at dinner immediately offered “doing taxes” and “sitting in a traffic jam”.  Are there others?  And do we have so many that our useful life expectancy is substantially reduced?  And could it be reduced to the point that some African men might have more hours of actual life available to them than American men?  (Women in Africa are saddled with lots of chores that are as tedious as Windows sysadmin, e.g., carrying water.)

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Saddam Hussein, an example for health care reform

Over breakfast at a favorite little French cafe in Harvard Square today a friend who is getting a master’s in Public Health at Harvard mentioned that under Saddam Hussein Iraq’s entire health care system had a budget of $18 million and that under U.S. occupation this has subsequently grown to $1.8 billion.  How well did Saddam do with his $18 mil?  http://www.cia.gov/cia/publications/factbook/geos/iz.html shows Iraqi life expectancy at birth to be 68 years versus the U.S.’s 77 years. Those extra 9 years are nice, of course, but they come at a cost of about $1.9 trillion per year or 100,000 times Saddam’s budget.

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Women prefer cats to men

After three weeks of hanging around like an unwelcome in-law, the filthy grey snow banks are finally melting here in Boston.  With the advent of warmth and sunshine I would have expected everyone  along Alex’s Harvard Yard/Square dog walking route to be grinning with happiness.  Yet people did not seem any happier than usual.  To explain this phenomenon it is necessary to turn to TIME magazine’s January 17, 2005 “The Science of Happiness” issue.  According to TIME, “sunny days [do not make us happy though] a 1998 study showed that Midwesterners think folks living in balmy California are happier and that Californians incorrectly believe this about themselves too.”


Friends and family make people happy as does “contributing to the lives of others” (tough for folks in Vero Beach, FL given that it is tough to find anyone within a gated community facing a more important decision than whether to play golf or tennis).  When asked “do you often do any of the following to improve your mood?”, TIME’s own poll revealed that 38 percent of women checked off “playing with pet”; only 18 percent checked “have sex”.  As the favored pet among America’s ladies is the cat, from this we can conclude that cats are more satisfying to women than men are.


[Additional sources: World Values Survey at http://wvs.isr.umich.edu/; BBC article http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/3157570.stm]

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The black Wellesley girl’s birthday party — diversity in action

Out in Harvard Square on Saturday night a bunch of us ate dinner next to a birthday party of 10 Wellesley College students.  The birthday girl happened to be black, which did not surprise us.  All 9 of her friends were also black, which did surprise us.  After the girls had left the restaurant the question arose “What are the odds that 100 percent of a Wellesley student’s friends would be of the same race?”  One of my dinner companions offered the following explanation: “Colleges have special pre-enrollment programs for black students.  They show up in July and make a lot of friends.  When the whites and Asians show up in September the black kids already have a complete social circle and don’t need to make friends among the ‘new people’.”


[Some clever readers wondered in the comment section whether an all-white group of students would have been as surprising.  Let’s see if we can remember our 8th-grade math…  Wellesley College reports that 6 percent of their student body is black (source).  If the other 94 percent were white the probability of a white girl who chose her friends at random having 9 white friends would be 0.94^9 or 57 percent (not to the 10th power because we fixed the first girl as white).  So about half of the groups of 10 that you observed would randomly be all-white.  If a black Wellesley student, on the other hand, chose 9 friends at random the chance of them being all-black would be 0.06^9 or 1 in 9.9 billion (i.e., if you saw 20 student groups per day it you’d need to wait for about 225 million years before seeing a group like we saw on Saturday night).  In practice, of course, Wellesley is like most other good colleges in having a lot of Asian-American and Asian-Asian students.  Whites, including those with Hispanic surnames, constitute only 52 percent of the students.  The probably of an all-white group of 10 being assembled randomly is therefore around 1/10th of 1%.  This is consistent with casual observations around Cambridge, where it is very unusual to see a group of 10 undergraduates without any Asian-Americans.]

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Father-daughter incest at Harvard

About 15 of us trundled over to Harvard’s Science Center last night for
a talk by David Haig, a newly tenured biology professor.  This is
part of Harvard’s flagship series of science lectures for
non-specialists.  Haig was purporting to explain conflict within
an individual’s mind by showing that paternally-derived genes and
maternally-derived genes may have conflicting goals within the same
person.  Haig’s age and physique would have led you to expect him
to use as an example of conflict a person who couldn’t decide between
golfing in North Carolina and visiting the grandchildren in
Sheboygan.  Instead he said “Suppose that I am considering an act
of sexual infidelity…” and proceeded to work out the pluses and
minuses.

The rest of the talk covered father-daughter incest (the school radio
station has a Saturday morning country/bluegrass show called “Hillbilly
at Harvard” but Haig did not mention it).  In theory the parts of
the daughter’s brain controlled by genes she inherited from her father
might be less opposed to incest than the parts of the brain controlled
by genes she inherited from her mother.  But this presupposes that
warring genes can get hold of distinct parts of the brain, something
that nobody has demonstrated.  And really how does dwelling at
such length on an example that is tied up with genetic propagation and
birth defects help us understand day-to-day indecision such as “should
I get a Big Mac or Chicken Selects?”

Haig showed some interesting slides of mouse embryos in which only
genes from males or only genes from females were cobbled together
inside one egg.  It turns out that genes from a male are
responsible for the embryo making large demands on the mother’s womb
for nutrition, etc.  It is currently very difficult to make a
viable baby with two moms or two dads (genetically).  It seems
that genes are imprinted somehow with the sex of their previous owner
and the same genetic sequence will behave differently depending on
whether it came from a male mouse or a female mouse.  Once all of
this is figured out we will be able to create human children from two
mothers fairly easily (since they already have the egg and the womb and
just need some DNA gluing and imprinting).

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Appropriate level of contempt for engineering

The continuing Larry Summers debacle has brought forward an old quote from Patti Hausman, a behavioral scientist writing in Science circa 2000, out of the woodwork…



“The question of why more women don’t choose careers in engineering has a rather obvious answer: Because they don’t want to.



“Wherever you go, you will find females far less likely than males to see what is so fascinating about ohms, carburetors, or quarks. . . . Reinventing the curriculum will not make me more interested in learning how my dishwasher works.”


I love that last line [emphasis added].  It summarizes precisely how my hip cool friends regard all MIT nerds.  It must be someone’s job to make sure the tires don’t fall off of their car, just as it must be someone’s job to clean the bathroom, but obviously it couldn’t be the job of anyone important.

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Why does Florida have so many airports?

Florida has a fantastic network of airports, each of which comes with a full complement of long runways, instrument approaches, gas stations, maintenance shops, etc.  It all makes sense until you ask the question “Why would someone want to go from one town in Florida to another?”


Town A:  flat landscape, warm humid climate, strip malls, Walmart, chain restaurants, gated communities.


Town B: flat landscape, warm humid climate, strip malls, Walmart, chain restaurants, gated communities.


Why would a Floridian go through the trouble of moving from one place to another?

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Why do kids in Florida have any work ethic?

Back in Cambridge now.  It was warm and sunny in South Dakota (T-shirt in the sun) and even nicer down in Florida.  Here in Massachusetts the sky and the leftover snow are the same grey color.  Light from the sun is but feebly perceptible.  Thoughts are turning back to Florida…


In most parts of the country the nicest houses and fanciest restaurants are filled with people who have jobs.  The crummy houses and fast-food joints are filled with the unemployed.  Florida is exactly the opposite.  The nicer houses in Vero Beach, where I was taking flying lessons, cost $1-5 million (and there are endless quantities of such houses in gated communities strewn up and down the hurricane-lashed barrier island).  Entrees at the Ocean Grill are $25ish.  The hotels, restaurants, Walmarts, etc. in town don’t pay salaries anywhere near large enough to make these things affordable.  If you see someone in a fancy house or a good restaurant chances are he or she is a stranger to employment.


Given this example one wonders why a young Floridian would bother to seek education and a job.

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Piper Malibu Mirage Transition Training in Vero Beach, Florida

I’m just finishing up transition training for the Piper Malibu Mirage airplane down in Vero Beach, Florida.  Vero Beach is the home of New Piper Aircraft, manufacturer of the Malibu, and is located on the SE Atlantic coast of Florida, halfway between Cape Canaveral and Miami/Ft. Lauderdale.


The Malibu is interesting because it is a personal airplane that actually can do most of the things that non-pilots believe any personal airplane ought to be able to do.  Imagine telling Joe Random that you own a small airplane.  He will imagine that this machine could get you from any place in the U.S. to any other place within a day or two.  Joe’s imagination would conjure up an airplane that could fly through clouds, fly above the clouds, keep the occupants comfortable inside, and not inflict too much noise on the passengers.  An actual small airplane, e.g., a brand new $250,000 Cessna 172 or $400,000 Piper Saratoga (JFK, Jr’s plane), can’t do any of these things.  A basic airplane will have a basic piston engine that loses power the higher one climbs into the thin air of high altitudes, which contains fewer molecules of oxygen for combustion per unit volume.  Thus the little Cessna, for example, goes slower and slower as it climbs higher until finally it is using almost all of its feeble power to climb rather than to move forward.  A 172 isn’t practical to operate above about 14,000′.  Clouds typically extend up to around 20,000′ and therefore the Cessna is condemned to fly through the clouds rather than above them.


What’s wrong with flying through the clouds?  In the summer the clouds contain embedded thunderstorms that can make an airplane impossible to control and it is difficult for a cloud-bound pilot to avoid those thunderstorms because one can’t see out of a cloud.  In the winter the clouds contain ice that alters the airfoil and weighs down the airframe to the point that the airplane doesn’t have enough power to hold altitude.  At all times of year clouds are typically bumpier than the air above the clouds.  A small plane can still get you places but you may have to wait many days for hazardous weather to clear.  Even with the best weather the average small plane is incredibly noisy, is unpressurized so passengers are exposed to the discomforts of breathing thin air or having an oxygen system stuck up their noses, and has no air conditioning.


The Piper Malibu has two turbochargers attached to its engine, making a total of 350 horsepower nearly up to its service ceiling of 25,000′.  This is high enough to get above most clouds most of the time.  Bleed air from the turbos is fed into the cabin for pressurization.  Two heaters cope with the -40 C temps at altitude while an air conditioner keeps folks cool closer to the ground.  At 25,000′ it is so cold that the air isn’t capable of holding much water and therefore the risk of accumulating ice is minimal.  However, one might have to climb up or descend down through an icing layer and therefore the Malibu comes with a heated propeller, some heated sensors for the instruments, and rubber boots on the leading edges of the wings and tail.  These rubber boots can be inflated by the pilot to crack ice off.


Basically the Malibu does everything that a jet-powered airplane does without the fuel consumption of a jet or the high initial cost of a jet (the same airframe is available with a jet engine driving a propeller; it is called a Piper Meridian and is about $700,000 more than the Malibu).  Introduced in 1984 only about 1000 have been built, including jet-powered versions.  It is difficult to get insurance for the Malibu because so many have been crashed.  These crashes fall into two categories:  (a) pushing weather, and (b) mechanical failure.  Because the airplane is so capable guys attempt getting through ice and around thunderstorms in a way that would never occur to them in a simpler airplane.  Because the airplane is so complex it is prone to failures that are simply not possible in a basic airplane.  If either turbocharger fails, for example, the engine oil can leak out and the engine will stop.  My old Diamond Star didn’t have turbochargers, by comparison.  The Malibu does what an airliner does but without the redundancy.  So you have to be prepared to land the airplane in a field or on a road.  Because of these accidents the insurance companies require professional training before writing a policy.


Half of the training involves ground school in which one learns as much as possible about all of the airplane’s systems, e.g., the hydraulic pump and lines that drive the landing gear up and down.  This is important in case you’re flying around and the landing gear won’t come down or the magic three green lights that indicate “down and locked” won’t come on.  This actually happened to me a few times in the last two weeks.  Twice I put the gear lever down and nothing happened.  It turned out that the hydraulic pump circuit breaker had popped.  One, after a 6.5-hour flight at high altitude, I put the gear down and only two of the three lights went on.  A little in-the-air debugging and the last light lit up but the gear might have been down all the time and the switch frozen.


Most of the flight training involves the student wearing special googles or a hood that obscures everything except the instruments on the panel.  This simulates instrument meteorological conditions (IMC), which is where things tend to get challenging.  My instructor was Ron Cox, former head of training for Piper Aircraft and then Simcom and previously a helicopter pilot in Vietnam.  Ron covered up all the instruments with a chart and had me do some turns climbs and descents purely by feel.  “Now you’re JFK, Jr.,” he noted (kind of odd that JFK, Jr. is the canonical example of a confused pilot even among long-time aviation nerds), and whisked the chart away.  I was supposed to be straight and level.  My body was uncertain as to its orientation relative to gravity.  The instruments showed the airplane in a steep climbing turn, an “unusual attitude” that needed to be corrected with a combination of throttle and yoke.  Many hours were spent doing instrument approaches to various airports on Florida’s Atlantic coast.  An instrument approach involves flying to a specified point in space and then flying a specified path in three dimensions down to a point where the pilot either sees the runway or executes a “missed approach” procedure by climbing up and proceeding to a published holding position and driving the airplane around in ovals.


Because so many Malibu engines have quit in flight, a great emphasis is placed on practicing engine failures in the clouds.  You wear the hood and the instructor pulls back the throttle and you have to figure out if there are any airports within gliding distance then set up the airplane for best gliding performance (90 knots) and make it down to a runway without pulling the hood off until the last 1000′ or so.  One great thing about the Malibu is that it glides better than 10:1, i.e., if you’re up at 25,000′ (5 miles) you can glide more than 50 miles horizontally.


I came away from the training with some improved flying skills and an appreciation for all the things that can wrong in a Malibu.  My personal summary:  the airplane can do just about everything that an airliner can do but there isn’t much redundancy so it isn’t wise to do the things that the airlines do, e.g., overfly truly horrible weather or fly into low instrument conditions.  An airliner will have multiple engines, hydraulic pumps, etc. and will be piloted by two full-time professionals in front.


[Incidentally, last year’s hurricanes hit Vero Beach very hard.  It appears that all pedestrian streets were destroyed, along with most sidewalks.  All the bookstores are gone as well as every classical music radio station.  Every person under age 55 not employed in the service industry was apparently killed.  The only things that are left here are gated communities full of rather old rather rich people, strip malls, real estate brokers, urology offices and MRI scanning centers.]

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Biography of Che Guevara

While down in Chile, I read a biography of Che Guevara by Jon Lee Anderson, the New Yorker magazine writer.  I recommend this book highly not only because it is so well-researched and written but also because Che was so far ahead of his time, which is possibly why he remains a hero for so many millions of people today.


Ernesto “Che” Guevara was born in 1928 to a socially prominent Argentine family.  He was good-looking, averse to bathing, and suffered badly from asthma.  Anderson recounts dozens if not hundreds of sexual liaisons in the first 200 pages.  Che and his dreams of social justice were irresistible to rich girls:  “One night, she and a friend, Blanca Mendez, the daughter of Guatemala’s director of petroleum reserves, tossed a coin to see which of them would ‘get’ Ernesto.” (pg 131)  Sadly for the U.S., Che was rejected by his one great love, a 15-year-old old rich Argentine girl who might have forced him to go straight.


Although Che graduated from medical school he never completed a medical internship and almost never had anything that looked like standard employment.  Until he become an official in Castro’s dictatorship of Cuba, Che lived off women with jobs: “A nurse named Julia Mejia had arranged a house at Lake Amatitlan where Ernesto could go and spend the weekends” (pg 138); “In March, … Hilda paid off part of his pension bill” (pg 139); “With some jewelry Hilda gave him for the purpose, he paid off part of his pension bill” (pg 141); “Ernesto now needed Hilda again for the occasional loan” and, as he had written in his diary, to satisfy his ‘urgent need for a woman who will fuck’.” (pg 166).


Che was afflicted by wanderlust from an early age though generally his travels involved some suffering for others.  From his cousin Mario he stole three new silk shirts and sold them for travel expenses.  Che was a difficult house guest: “Staying for a night in the barn of an Austrian family, Ernesto awoke to hear scratching… he aimed the Smith & Wesson … and fired a single shot.  The noises stopped, and he went back to sleep.  But in the morning he and Alberto awoke to discover that Ernesto had bagged not a puma, but their hosts’ beloved Alsatian dog, Bobby.” [This was the first lethal gunshot fired by Che Guevara.]  Some of his travel diaries and experiences show how little South America has changed:  “The bloodshed [in Colombia] was called simply ‘La Violencia,’ the euphemism for what had become a national plague, and in 1952 there was no still no end in sight” (pg 91).


Che did a bit of glider flying with his uncle and the book includes a photo of him, the “oddball uncle”, and a sailplane with a tail number of “LV-DAY”.  Che appreciated fine optics: “he tried out a new toy he had bought himself with half of his remaining funds–a 35mm Zeiss camera” (pg 162).  At his death, “several Rolex watches [were] found in Che’s possession” (pg 741).  Che kept programmer hours: “Stories abounded in Havana of foreign dignitaries who, after being granted interviews with Che at three o’clock, showed up at his offices at that hour of the afternoon, only to be informed by Manresa that their appointment was for 3:00 am.” (pg 446)


Africa defied Che’s efforts.  “Che was stunned by the number of cases of venereal disease among the rebels… ‘Almost nobody had the least idea of what a firearm was,’ Che recalled.  ‘They shot themselves by playing with them, or by carelessness.’ The rebels also drank a local corn- and yucca-based brew called pombe, and the spectacle of reeling men having fights or disobeying orders was distressingly commonplace.” (pg 642).  “In a ludicrous sideshow, the boat captain had also brought over forty new Congolese rebel ‘graduates,’ fresh from a training course in the Soviet Union.  LIke their Bulgarian- and Chinese-trained predecessors, they immediately requested two weeks of vacation, while also complaining that they had nowhere to put their luggage.” (pg 666)


Richard Nixon, Vice President at the time, comes off as perhaps the only intelligent American in the book.  His own CIA was supporting Castro because they thought that he was anti-Communist.  Nixon met with Castro, however, and reported to Eisenhower that Castro was in fact a Communist (pg 416).


Fidel Castro earns his status as modern hero in this book.  On page 295, Castro, out in the sierra with a small army, responds to a call for compromise with U.S. and bourgeois interests: “These are our conditions… If they are rejected, then we will continue the struggle on our own… To die with dignity does not require company.”.  One of the first things that Castro’s regime did was introduce affirmative action to the university:  “Che told the gathered faculty and students [at University of Las Villas] that the days when education was a privilege of the white middle class had ended.  ‘The University,’ he said, ‘must paint itself black, mulatto, worker, and peasant.’  If it didn’t, he warned, the people would break down its doors ‘and paint the University the colors they like.'” (pg 449)  Castro ended up being somewhat at odds with Che.  At the beginning of the struggle Castro doesn’t care what form of government Cuba ends up with as long as he and his brother are in charge.  After Castro has secured power he realizes that retaining lifetime ownership of Cuba will require Soviet support.  This leads to a rift between Castro and Che.  Che wants to foment violent revolution in other Latin American countries.  The Soviets want to avoid military confrontation with the U.S. and Castro is willing to do anything the Soviets say as long as he can keep his job.


American military adventures abroad and foreigners’ response to them have changed little.  “In 1951, both [Fidel Castro] and his brother Raul (echoing Ernesto Guevara’s own stance in distant Argentina) had vocally opposed the Prio government’s intention of sending Cuban troops to find in the ‘American war’ in Korea.”  In the summer of 1956 Che picks up his infant daughter and says “My dear little daughter, my little Mao, you don’t know what a difficult world you’re going to have to live in.  When you grow up this whole continent, and maybe the whole world, will be fighting against the great enemy, Yankee imperialism.  You too will have to fight.  I may not be here anymore, but the struggle will inflame the continent.” (pg 202)


When Che left Cuba for Africa he left behind a “Message to the Tricontinental” that demonstrates his faith in any kind of violence against the U.S., an anticipation of Osama bin-Laden:



In it he appealed to revolutionaries everywhere to create “two, three, many Vietnams” as part of an international war against imperialism.  Che … demanded a “long and cruel” global confrontation to bring about the “destruction” of imperialism in order to bring about a “Socialist revolution” as the new world order.”


And in a litany of the qualities that would be required for this battle, he cited: “Hatred as an element of the struggle; a relentless hatred of the enemy, impelling us above and beyond the natural limitations that man is heir to… a people without hatred cannot vanquish a brutal enemy.”


It would be a “total war,” to be carried out against the Yankees first in their imperial outposts and eventually in their own territory.  The war had to be waged in “his home,” his “centers of entertainment”; he should be made to feel like a “cornered beast,” until his “moral fiber begins to decline,” … He urged men everywhere to take up their brothers’ just causes, as part of a global war against the U.S.


“Our every action is a battle cry against imperialism, and a battle hymn for the peoples’ unity against the great enemy of mankind: the United States of America.  Wherever death may surprise us, let it be welcome, provided that this, our battle car, may have reached some receptive ears and another hand may be extended to wield our weapon and other men may be ready to intone the funeral dirge with the staccato singing of the machine guns.” (pg 719)


The “fight first, decide on what to do once power has been attained” strategy had worked well in Cuba and Fidel Castro’s continued ownership of that country is testament to Che’s success.  But it didn’t work in Bolivia where Che spent his last couple of years trying to convince bewildered peasants to take up arms against the U.S.  Che was taken prison by the Bolivian army in October 1967 and the U.S. government tried to drag him back to Panama for interrogation.  But the Bolivians were angry and President Barrientos ordered Guevara executed in the field where he was being held.


Reading this book in Chile inspired some reflection.  No Latin American country has rejected Che Guevara’s philosophy more definitively than Chile.  While their neighbors put energy into bemoaning and trying to escape American commercial domination, the Chileans quietly go to university, accept American investments, build farms, mines, and factories, and load goods onto ships for export.  Chile, along with Costa Rica, probably best represents the opposite of Castro’s Cuba.  Have any of our readers been to both Chile and Cuba?  How do they compare?  The Chileans are certainly richer but I wonder if the Cubans are happier (their music is certainly happier).


Another reflection that occurred to me is how much less hope there is in today’s world.  Quite a few Latin Americans in the 1950s felt that if they could only overthrow their governments they would enter some sort of paradise of freedom and prosperity.  Women would yield their bodies if a man only hinted at dreams of a brave new world with a different government.  It seems as though these hopes have been dashed by the failure of the Soviet Union and the Starbuckification of China.  Now it seems that there is only one form of government from which to choose.  It will be more or less corrupt.  It will be more or less efficient.  It will be more or less tolerant of opposition.  But basically the path to prosperity involves investment and hard boring work rather than a moment of glorious political change.  How depressing is that?

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