While Hayek regarded some advocates of social justice as cynically aware that they were really engaged in a concentration of power, the greater danger he saw in those sincerely promoting the concept with a zeal which unconsciously prepares the way for others—totalitarians—to step in after the undermining of ideological, political, and legal barriers to government power makes their task easier.
This is one of the key dangers of centralizing power, and why I’m always interested in how people pursue goals versus what specifically they’re after. If, to achieve your objective, you have to bash down existing separations of power to get the work done, you have to be prepared for a successor (with whom you don’t agree) to deploy the same overconcentration of power to pursue ends you dislike. If you approve of presidential executive orders and the executive branch overriding legislative controls to “get things done”, you shouldn’t be surprised when your enemy does the same in the next term. But it’s less important whether you feel bad about or disagree strongly with a successor using the hammer. The lesson is to avoid centralizing authority as much as possible.
A system designed with constraining barriers — like the American system of checks and balances — optimizes for something many people don’t realize. It’s not about enabling us to pursue maximum upside at all costs. Bureacracy is meant to slow things down, sometimes idealistic ends take decades. It’s about limiting catastrophic downsides: the tyranny of the majority, the slide into totalitarianism.
Sowell’s constrained vs. unconstrained vision model describes a framework for thinking about how certain psychologies will approach a problem solving or policy decision. The “constrained” has just that, a constrained view of what’s possible — of the innate intractability of the universe, of human fallibility. An environment defined by trade-offs. The “unconstrained” sees trade-offs as in our way, things to be disposed of or ignored to pursue our optimal path. Limited appreciation for the fact that we have no idea if what we think is optimal is actually so.
Constrained = seek first to explain the encountered Chesterton Fence.
Unconstrained = get annoyed by said fence, declare it an irritating obstruction, bulldoze.
This post appeared in issue #36 of my newsletter, Res Extensa, where I write about the intersection of product design, bottoms-up systems, innovation, and what we can learn from the history of technology. I’d love it if you subscribed.
The older I get, the more I appreciate two fundamental skills in every line of work:
A respect for and ability to assess trade-offs, and
Knowing how and when to make decisions
Notice it doesn’t say what decision to make. Effective decision-making means knowing which resources to bring to bear, who to involve, and how to zoom out on the upsides and downsides (number 1). And just as critically, it’s knowing when a decision is necessary. On most things, the faster decision is better. Whether we acknowledge it or not, most decisions are two-way doors: we can recover from the downsides. But surprisingly often it’s about knowing when we don’t really need a decision right now. Not deciding is itself a decision.
Austin Yang says it this way:
What most people aren’t aware of is that indecision in itself is a decision. You are essentially choosing to stick with the status quo for the time being.
A key factor to how we think about a decision is what action follows. “Indecision” only feels bad if we keep harping on the subject, if we continue deliberating even after we decided to stick with the status quo.
He raises another all-too-common problem where the follow-on action makes the decision problematic: the “fake decision”:
There is one type of decision that doesn’t get talked about enough. These are decisions that get made, but never acted on. I call them “fake decisions.” Technically speaking, they cannot be called decisions at all. They are simply feel-good exercises to fool yourself into thinking that something has changed.
Economic historian Anton Howes writes a newsletter devoted to the topic: what gave rise to the “improving mentality”? For some reason — a combination of timing, the weird semi-isolated, evolved culture of England, access to natural resources, political freedom — the British Isles was a petri dish of innovation in the 18th and 19th centuries.
Anton tells the story of Robert Bakewell, a cattle farmer that set out, through experimentation, trial and error, to improve his cattle herd.
Bakewell’s story could have been an unremarkable one. He was born, farmed, and died at Dishley, much like his father before him. But Bakewell, unlike most people, caught the improving mentality, or attitude — the one thing all inventors, both then and now, have in common — which had him viewing everything around him in terms of its capacity for betterment. The improving mentality was a reframing the status quo as a problem to solve. A habit of optimisation. A compulsion to perfect.
Through dozens of adjustments and a constant drive to improve, his cows were special. But it took active effort, experimentation, and drive to improve. He selectively bred his cattle to have larger backs, with the more expensive sirloin and filets, and smaller mid and lower sections, with their cheaper cuts.
Bakewell’s cows and sheep became extraordinarily valuable when sold for meat, though he soon discovered he could make even more money by leasing out the young males of his breeds to other farmers so that they could improve their own — “but never as good as that of Mr Bakewell who has both the male and the female”. Recognising how essential it was that he not lose his competitive advantage, he even set up his own abattoir and sold only dead meat, for fear that an unscrupulous butcher might be tempted to breed from the live animals sent to slaughter.
From Dwarkesh Patel’s excellent podcast, this is a masterclass in how learning works. I love how Andy is always essentially thinking out loud, as he’s in conversation, about the topic. Even a guy with his pedigree realizes that a subject like this is a confoundingly complex, with no “best” way of understanding it.
One of the biggest learnings from Andy is how to be purposeful when you read. You should ask questions of the text! I know this technique and still too often I read something knowing — sometimes consciously, usually subconciously — that I don’t truly understand what I just read. Just take a look at this session where Andy reads and makes notes on a paper in real-time, and you’ll see this in action.
The obvious benefit to working quickly is that you’ll finish more stuff per unit time. But there’s more to it than that. If you work quickly, the cost of doing something new will seem lower in your mind. So you’ll be inclined to do more.
The converse is true, too. If every time you write a blog post it takes you six months, and you’re sitting around your apartment on a Sunday afternoon thinking of stuff to do, you’re probably not going to think of starting a blog post, because it’ll feel too expensive.
Also at work, the better you get, the better you better get:
It is a truism, too, in workplaces, that faster employees get assigned more work. Of course they do. Humans are lazy. They want to preserve calories. And it’s exhausting merely thinking about giving work to someone slow. When you’re thinking about giving work to someone slow, you run through the likely quagmire in your head; you visualize days of halting progress. You imagine a resource—this slow person—tied up for awhile. It’s wearisome, even in the thinking. Whereas the fast teammate—well, their time feels cheap, in the sense that you can give them something and know they’ll be available again soon. You aren’t “using them up” by giving them work. So you route as much as you can through the fast people. It’s ironic: your company’s most valuable resources—because they finish things quickly—are the easiest to consume.
Feedback loops, both positive and negative, are a helluva thing.
Architect Christopher Alexander articulated the notion of “pattern languages” in his 1977 book of the same name. You devise a library of rules of thumb for designing (in his case, living spaces — neighborhoods, buildings, rooms) that work well together. Rather than rigid top-down design with hard specs, a well-thought-out pattern language gives the designer room to be creative while still working from thoughtful, functional constraints. An effective pattern language is a hierarchical scheme of composable building blocks: in Alexander’s original language, “Cozy Half-Enclosed Corner” works well with “Light on Two Sides”, or with “Seat Spots in Light and Dark”.
Pattern languages are meant to be sets of general principles. No neighborhood conforms to “The Pattern Language” as a standard.
In the world of software, Ted Nelson’s Project Xanadu is both an epic failure and wild success. It started as a proposal in 1960, and still doesn’t exist.
But as Maggie Appleton points out here, many of the project’s proposed “patterns” have been embraced and implemented in the distributed ecosystem of Internet specifications and software features over the past few decades:
People are building Xanadu without knowing what Xanadu is. Which is the essence of a good pattern language; true patterns evolve naturally within systems, and are found rather than crafted.
We should think of Xanadu as a successful pattern language, rather than a failed software project.
The past couple weeks I’ve been experimenting tons with ChatGPT and Midjourney, figuring out how to make practical use of this new wave of products.
Tinkering around, I asked ChatGPT:
Write about some creative anachronistic historical events.
‘Viking Age Space Telescopes’, according to Midjourney
And here’s a brief sampling of what I got:
Aztec Airborne Armada (1400s): The Aztecs develop an array of helium-filled airships, forming an airborne armada to defend their empire and launch surprise attacks on neighboring civilizations.
Socrates’ Philosophical Podcast (399 BCE): Instead of written dialogues, Socrates engages in thought-provoking discussions through an ancient form of podcasting, spreading his philosophical ideas through the airwaves of Athens.
Marco Polo’s Transcontinental Railroad (1271-1295): Marco Polo’s extensive travels result in a collaborative effort among the nations he encountered to construct a massive transcontinental railroad network connecting Europe, Asia, and Africa centuries ahead of its time.
Appetite comes when you eat. Nibble and your appetite will grow.
Appetite can be the hunger for any kind of thing, not just food. Some days I wish I had the appetite to write, to read, to exercise, or even go outside.
Procrastination is the state of waiting for motivation to come. Paradoxically, the most reliable way to create motivation is to start doing the thing.
In Herculaneum, twenty meters of hot mud and ash bury an enormous villa once owned by the father-in-law of Julius Caesar. Inside, there is a vast library of papyrus scrolls.
The scrolls are carbonized by the heat of the volcanic debris. But they are also preserved. For centuries, as virtually every ancient text exposed to the air decays and disappears, the library of the Villa of the Papyri waits underground, intact.
Seales and his team have been working for years to develop a process to decode the scrolls without physical manipulation. Because they’re carbonized (think paper-thin charcoal), handling them pulverizes them into shards and dust. The latest AI boom shows promise to enable methods to finally decode the writing on these documents, using imaging techniques and CV.
Nat talked about this in depth during his interview a few months back with Dwarkesh Patel.
HBR: You and Larry David wrote Seinfeld together, without a traditional writers’ room, and burnout was one reason you stopped. Was there a more sustainable way to do it? Could McKinsey or someone have helped you find a better model?
Jerry: Who’s McKinsey?
HBR: It’s a consulting firm.
Jerry: Are they funny?
HBR: No.
Jerry: Then I don’t need them. If you’re efficient, you’re doing it the wrong way. The right way is the hard way. The show was successful because I micromanaged it—every word, every line, every take, every edit, every casting. That’s my way of life.
We should all ask ourselves fundamental questions like this more often. First principles, and whatnot.
Write about some creative anachronistic historical events.
The results don’t disappoint. Every single one is gold, big-budget film caliber material we got here. Scroll down and enjoy…
Marco Polo’s Transcontinental Railroad, according to Midjourney
Leonardo’s Electric Canvas (1492): Leonardo da Vinci, known for his ingenious inventions, unveils the world’s first electrically powered canvas projector, allowing him to showcase his artwork in vibrant colors and dynamic animations, centuries ahead of its time.
Napoleon’s Moon Landing (1801): In a bid to establish a new world order, Napoleon Bonaparte orchestrates a daring expedition to the Moon using steam-powered spacecraft, setting the stage for lunar colonization and a galactic French empire.
Medieval Internet Symposium (1220): Scholars from across the medieval world gather for an “Internet Symposium,” where they discuss ideas through telepathic communication devices, resembling a rudimentary version of the internet.
Genghis Khan’s Airship Campaigns (1206-1227): Genghis Khan’s vast empire extends beyond land as his horde launches airborne campaigns using intricately designed airships, enabling swift conquests across continents with unprecedented speed.
Renaissance Era Robotics (1565): As a culmination of Renaissance curiosity, artisans and scientists collaborate to create a series of clockwork automatons that exhibit human-like intelligence and serve as precursors to modern robotics.
Cleopatra’s Underwater Expedition (50 BCE): Cleopatra, fascinated by the sea, leads a team of engineers and divers on an underwater archaeological expedition to explore the sunken city of Atlantis, unraveling ancient mysteries beneath the waves.
World War I: Age of Steampunk (1914-1918): The First World War takes on a different tone with both sides utilizing advanced steam-powered machinery, elaborate mechanical exosuits, and ornate weaponry, in a steampunk-inspired alternate history.
Marco Polo’s Transcontinental Railroad (1271-1295): Marco Polo’s extensive travels result in a collaborative effort among the nations he encountered to construct a massive transcontinental railroad network connecting Europe, Asia, and Africa centuries ahead of its time.
Industrial Revolution of Magic (1700s): The Industrial Revolution ushers in a new era of magic, where steam-driven wands power factories and alchemical engines replace conventional machines, driving technological progress through mystical means.
Joan of Arc’s Space Exploration (1429): Inspired by visions of the cosmos, Joan of Arc leads a celestial expedition using a fantastical flying fortress, journeying through the stars to bring harmony to distant planets.
Da Vinci’s Cyberspace Designs (1500): Leonardo da Vinci sketches out intricate plans for a virtual reality world using a combination of mirrors, lenses, and mechanical devices, offering a glimpse into a digital realm centuries ahead of its time.
Socrates’ Philosophical Podcast (399 BCE): Instead of written dialogues, Socrates engages in thought-provoking discussions through an ancient form of podcasting, spreading his philosophical ideas through the airwaves of Athens.
Ancient Egyptian Steam-Powered Pyramids (2500 BCE): The ancient Egyptians harness steam power to build their pyramids, using massive steam engines to lift and transport colossal stone blocks with astonishing precision.
Shakespearean Space Odyssey (1601): William Shakespeare’s play “Space Odyssey” tells the story of intrepid explorers venturing beyond Earth, grappling with cosmic conflicts and celestial dramas in a performance that takes theater to the stars.
Gutenberg’s Digital Printing Press (1450): Johannes Gutenberg invents a digital version of the printing press, allowing for instant creation and dissemination of books and manuscripts, revolutionizing information distribution long before the digital age.
Aztec Airborne Armada (1400s): The Aztecs develop an array of helium-filled airships, forming an airborne armada to defend their empire and launch surprise attacks on neighboring civilizations.
Ancient Greek Teleportation Symposium (300 BCE): Greek philosophers convene a “Teleportation Symposium,” discussing the ethics and implications of instantaneous travel across vast distances, shaping the course of human exploration.
Einstein’s Quantum Social Media Theory (1915): Albert Einstein introduces a theory of “Quantum Social Media,” predicting that interconnected networks of thoughts and ideas will shape the fabric of reality, long before the development of modern social platforms.
Viking Age Space Telescopes (800): Vikings construct massive, ornate space telescopes atop their ships, enabling them to explore distant planets and navigate the cosmos with extraordinary accuracy during their seafaring expeditions.
Caveman’s Cave-Painted Animation (10,000 BCE): Prehistoric artists create animated sequences on cave walls, employing ingenious mechanisms to bring their paintings to life and share stories through early forms of motion pictures.
If you don’t follow Cultural Tutor on Twitter, I’d highly recommend. One of the few threadposters who consistently sends me down unrequested-but-fascinating rabbit holes. Architecture, classical history, music, art — always something interesting.
And if you like the social media feed, check out Areopagus, his weekly newsletter that goes deeper on a few topics each week.
Appetite comes when you eat. Nibble and your appetite will grow.
Appetite can be the hunger for any kind of thing, not just food. Some days I wish I had the appetite to write, to read, to exercise, or even go outside.
Procrastination is the state of waiting for motivation to come. Paradoxically, the most reliable way to create motivation is to start doing the thing.
So great. The ultimate paradox of human productivity. For some reason when we’ve done nothing is when we’re the most overwhelmed with a task, a project, a hobby, a habit. Once we start doing things, those things get easier. They become more enjoyable. The tangible movement and progress motivates us for more. Another excellent example of the benefits of keeping things simple — of getting to basics before you overthink your work.
Google has released a massive dataset of building footprints, extracted from high resolution satellite imagery:
The dataset contains 1.8 billion building detections, across an inference area of 58M km2 within Africa, South Asia, South-East Asia, Latin America and the Caribbean.
1.8 billion features is enormous, and it doesn’t even cover North America, Western Europe, most of China, Japan, or Australia. Incredible stuff, licensed under CC-BY-4 and ODbL.
I miss Eugene Wei’s epic tech analyses. His latest serves as a sort of eulogy for Twitter. He’s of the opinion that “peak Twitter” is in the rear view, and the platform seems to be on a continuous decline over the past year, for the reasons I’m sure you suspect even if you don’t agree.
He makes some interesting points on the failings of Elon and the directional changes in culture and resourcing. While the product was obviously stagnant and incredibly slow at innovation, there have been some, let’s say questionable major changes in the last 12 months. Shipping is great. But shipping for shipping’s sake? Maybe not so much. Many of the changes when viewed from the outside — the yoyo-ing around with Twitter Blue subscriptions, the mind-bending rate limiting decisions, blocking whole domains from being linked to, then unblocking them — we’ve got a nice little list of bizarre experiments that seem unmoored from its success as a business.
No one has been able to explain exactly how Twitter could grow continuously (though slower than your typical unicorn startup) for the past 15 years, especially with so little in the way of new capabilities of the product. 15 years is multiple lifetimes in the tech universe.
I think the key observation is that Twitter found generational product-market fit over a decade ago, but hasn’t been able to explain or understand how that PMF exactly works. What ingredients and magic alchemy came together to create such an unkillable product? As the newfound czar of the product, Elon hasn’t decoded it either. Tinkering with the timeline algorithm has made it demonstrably worse, as I’m sure most power users agree. I like how Eugene puts it:
The changes to the Twitter algorithm bulldozed over a decade’s worth of Chesterton fences in a few months.
It’s not that the old algo was perfect. But something about its particular tuning methodology was clearly desirable, which we appreciated once it was taken away.
Here’s Eugene again, in summary:
For this reason, Twitter won’t ever fully vanish unless management pulls the plug. None of the contenders to replace Twitter has come close to replicating its vibe of professional and amateur intellectuals and jesters engaged in verbal jousting in a public global tavern, even as most have lifted its interface almost verbatim. Social networks aren’t just the interface, or the algorithm, they’re also about the people in them. When I wrote “The Network’s the Thing” I meant it; the graph is inextricable from the identity of a social media service. Change the inputs of such a system and you change the system itself.
I’m not going anywhere. Threads is uninteresting to me. Twitter is mostly still fine. And Farcaster is my second home and exit strategy.
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