Dale Corson

It appears a new book and DVD has come out on the life of Cornell President Dale Corson. I look forward to reading this.


http://www.news.cornell.edu/stories/Sept09/CorsonLegacy.html

I had the opportunity to interview Dale a couple times at the Kendall retirement community in preparation for a 50th anniversary Sputnik panel discussion. He is, today, at 95 years young, a bright and wonderful conversationalist. I began to understand WHY there are jokes about Kendal having a better physics department than Cornell - there are a lot of brilliant people there.

I think the book focuses on his tenure as Cornell President and controversies centered around the Vietnam protests. But I'm actually more interested in his earlier years. From what I gathered, Corson was a figure in the Presidential Science Advisory Council and was party to the remarkable post-Sputnik efforts in science education. He was also a key figure in creating Cornell's Science and Technology Studies department.

If you're interested in science policy or the history of science in postwar America get a chance, try to get a chance to speak with him. His legacy continues to be written - as are all of ours - by simple words and stories that, unknown to the speaker, sticks with the listener for a long time.

Old Words

I recently sent out some tutoring applications, which gave me an opportunity to peruse some dusty files from my academic career. I stumbled across an essay I had written for the National Science Foundation Graduate Research Fellowship Program.

I'm a little surprised how much my perception of the essay, and myself, has changed since late 2005. As late as 2007, I had thought it was a pretty good essay, and that by writing it, I was holding myself to the standards I had outlined. I had spent a couple months working on it, passing drafts back and forth with my adviser. To this day, I'm grateful for his tremendous insights into the grant application process, as well as the time and effort he expended on my behalf.

Now I'm just embarrassed by it - it does come across as an odd combination of naive and arrogant. Then again, I think I have trouble accepting the need to sell myself as much as it is required to effectively land a job and be promoted.

I think I'm posting this, partly because I think there are a couple people who were curious WHY I got an NSF fellowship. I think I'm also posting it because I do believe there are principles I espoused that I did believe, but haven't made the effort to follow through with actions. And the more people who know about that, and hold me accountable to that, the better.

The comments I got back indicated that it was my application, and not my academic record, that got me the fellowship. The reviews also suggest that it was this essay - perhaps a compelling narrative with some good principles and ideas - that might have been the decisive factor. (Concerns were raised that my research plan was a bit vague.)

Energy and vision paper over many limitations, at least initially. I'm reminded that vision is a critical component to transformational leadership. A vision is needed at an individual level to move from what is to what will be, what must be. Khrushchev, for all of his failings, had those in spades.

So here's to solidifying- but not ossifying- vague principles into a still ethereal, but more manageable vision. I'll start with personal matters - a renewed Office of Technology Assessment will have to wait for many, many years.


***
Essay 1 prompt

NSF Fellows are expected to become knowledge experts and leaders who can contribute significantly to research, education, and innovations in science and engineering. The purpose of this essay is to demonstrate your potential to satisfy this requirement. Your ideas and examples do not have to be confined necessarily to the discipline that you have chosen to pursue. Describe any personal, professional, or educational experiences or situations that have prepared you or contributed to your desire to pursue advanced study in science, technology, engineering, or mathematics. Describe your competencies and evidence of leadership potential. Discuss your career aspirations and how the NSF fellowship will enable you to achieve your goals. Provide specific details in the narrative that address the NSF Merit Review Criteria of Intellectual Merit and Broader Impacts as described in the program announcement.

I was six years old when Voyager sent its final images of the solar system. I was enchanted by the dramatic, mysterious blues of Neptune and the icy volcanoes of Triton. Voyager taught me about the solar system, but it also taught me about the human need to understand the universe and our place in it. Each Voyager spacecraft carried a record titled the Sounds of Earth, filled with music, images, and greetings from across the globe. Even then, I understood the important symbolism of that message of peace and hope floating to the stars as the Berlin Wall crumbled and a new generation dared to dream. This is a vision that still inspires me and drives me, one that experience and education have refined but never tamed or diminished.

Voyager was just the beginning. I loved learning physics, and enjoyed my coursework at Harvey Mudd College. I'm still amazed by the power of physics to explain a wide variety of systems, from neurons to sunsets to black hole accretion disks. My coursework and research taught me how to think critically and reject half-hearted comprehension. I learned to focus, work hard, and push myself to learn concepts and do projects that I thought were beyond my grasp. It is beautiful to see so much science I have studied--solid state physics, fluid mechanics, thermodynamics, quantum mechanics, relativity, optics, and chemistry--come together in astronomy. I draw upon all of my training to solve research problems, and I treasure that breadth of background and experience that I received as an undergraduate. Research continues to test my understanding, my creativity, and my patience, but I have learned to approach problems with quiet confidence and humility.

While studying science, I met people who were were themselves complex and fascinating. Harvey Mudd boasts students and professors marked by their passion and creativity in all aspects of life; it was as if studying the natural world gave all of us a greater appreciation of life's rich beauty. The astronomers I met in courses and at conferences were broad-minded, independent individuals, experts in their field but also able to use their minds to understand the wider world. It is an honor to be part of this community of truly extraordinary people.

When I was young, I was fortunate to have relatives, teachers, and clergy who encouraged my interest in space. Now, with a group of Cornell astronomy students, I am trying to do the same by answering questions from the public on our astronomy website (http://curious.astro.cornell.edu). It's a fun and rewarding way to encourage public interest in astronomy. I've learned a lot from these questions, and feel they really help me understand astronomy. A friend once told me that if I can't explain my research to a child in kindergarten, then I don't really understand it.

I've learned that it is important to convince senators as well as six-year olds. This summer I attended an international seminar on the European Union in Rome and presented a paper on European space policy. I was impressed by my brilliant and friendly peers. But I was also shocked by how little they knew about their domestic research programs or the implications of science on their field. Italian scientists told me not only about their research; they also described frustration and difficulties stemming from a national freeze on tenure and low research budgets. Scientists know how to reach across continents to solve common research problems. We must make sure we reach out with equal ardor to policymakers, not only to ensure the vitality of our research, but also to help all people better enjoy the benefits of modern science.

I also know that scientists must always remember that we work within a larger society. I spent a good part of my free time in college coordinating volunteer activities. I enjoy working with people who can see beyond the ``bubble world" of deadlines and dorm life to work for positive change in the community. With the help of many wonderful friends, I encouraged our scientific community to think about the world we want for ourselves and the future. We donated blood, organized canned food drives, volunteered with a food pantry, sent books and letters to prisoners, worked on Habitat for Humanity houses, and shared laughter and stories with homeless men during our Saturday Brunch program. These experiences taught me about project management, budget fights, and even corporate liability, and will be helpful when I lead a research team. But more importantly, these actions made a tangible difference in our community. We connected with people beyond the safe world of middle-class familiarity, and I believe we are better for it. We found balance and perspective, and now see both our duty and capacity to build a more just and compassionate world.

I look forward to research in extrasolar planets, to the excitement and recognition that will come with the discovery of other Earths. Yet I am also mindful of the debt I owe to those who helped me get here, and to those who weren't so fortunate. I remember the world I left behind when I graduated from a poor public high school. I remember the critical importance of those few great teachers who fought standardization and indifference to bring passion and inspiration to the classroom. As a member of the Harvey Mudd chapter of the Society of Hispanic Professional Engineers, I mentored students interested in science from my high school district, located in a low-income, first-generation Hispanic and Asian community. Our shared experiences--problems with principals, crime on campus, and a consistently bad football team--helped us connect and understand each other. It scared me to think how close I came to forgetting our shared history, our community, while I pursued personal glory and curiosity. It took the daylight drive-by shooting of a student two blocks from my house to remind me that the situation is urgent and grave. To these men and women we mentor, science is not only a beautiful subject and a way to serve mankind, but also a source of freedom from the poverty and violence that grips our community. I owe it to them to help them bring honor and a better life for their families, find freedom from violence, and restore dignity and hope to our hometown.

The opportunities and challenges of science in the twenty-first century will call upon the visionary ambition, technical brilliance, and personal character of the citizen-scientist. We need people who will exemplify the excellent and somewhat paradoxical meld of tradition and revolution that characterizes scientific inquiry. It is a difficult thing to ask of anyone, but I know I am not alone. I have the inspiring example and fellowship of other brilliant, compassionate scientists. Together, we will push the frontiers of research, serve our communities, and engage a quickly-changing world with passion, determination, humility, and conscience.

Willy Brandt and Barack Obama

I spent a bit of time this morning reading about former West German Chancellor Willy Brandt, prompted by comparisons with Obama on receiving the Peace Prize. (Brandt received it in 1971 after articulating a policy of Neue Ostpolitik - engagement with the Communist East, but before substantial tangible progress had been made.)

From the Time "Man of the Year" story on him in 1971:

The setting: The Old Jewish Ghetto, Warsaw, December, 1970: His broad, ruggedly handsome face etched with lines of concern, West Germany's Chancellor Willy Brandt walks slowly to the simple granite slab that memorializes the 500,000 Jews from the city's ghetto who were massacred by the Germans during World War II. For a moment he stands with bowed head, enveloped in silence except for the soft hiss of two gas-fed candelabra. Then, as if to atone for Germany's sins against its neighbors, Brandt falls to his knees. "No people," as Willy Brandt has said, "can escape from their history."

For Obama's sake, I hope neither his near-term political situation nor longer-term career do not mirror Brandt's. Brandt's chancellorship was the most dramatic of postwar Germany. Following the Peace Prize and efforts to implement Neue Ostpolitik, he faced a number of defections from his party and barely survived a vote of no confidence, thanks in part to bribery by Stasi agents. He was ultimately forced to resign when his long-term assistant and close friend was outed as a spy for the East Germans. The Guillaume affair makes the Lewinsky affair look like, well, just a day in the life of Silvio Berlusconi.

Frank Rich as a model 21st century columnist

I'm linking to Frank Rich's most recent Op-Ed piece on the dangers of escalating the war in Afghanistan ("Two Wrongs Make Another Fiasco"). But before going into the content, I wanted to highlight that Mr. Rich, perhaps better than any other Op-Ed contributor at a print publication, makes liberal use of embedded links. I find this an incredibly useful tool to those of us who read the NYTimes online.

It's not that we can't google an item of interest on our own - we can, and do, depending on the limits of time and intellectual laziness. But it's handy to have links.

There's another reason - it provides information on where the author is getting his or her information. It is ironic that it is in my post-academic career that I am appreciating the role and value of references, those obscure notes tucked at the bottom of a page or in the back of a text. With the web, they are front and center, and offer insight into whether or not the author draws from overly convenient and familiar sources. (Note: I accept the criticism that I draw almost all of my news from the NYTimes. I'm trying to get into the Washington Post more, but time and energy are limited.)

Now, on to the substance. I reported on Stephen Biddle's comments in August 2008 that Iraq remained the key front. To appropriate Rich's appropriation of McCain's comments, the US could "muddle through" Afghanistan for years, while a deterioration in Iraq could lead to disaster in a matter of weeks.

Granted, these comments were made at a particular stage in Iraq's history, and definitely prior to what has been a year of progress toward a stable, secure state. But I conjecture that it has as much to do with the understanding that Afghanistan's history of weak or nonexistent central government and graveyard of empires sets the reference point of expectations for Afghan citizens.

In other words, Afghanistan won't collapse because institutions, economies, and relationships are built upon the structure of what we in nation-states might regard as stateless anarchy.

Note that both Rich and Biddle highlight the Anbar Awakening as a necessary ingredient to make the "surge" work - and Biddle notes that it might not have happened had Al-Qaeda in Iraq not damaged the existing economic and political patronage systems used by local leaders.

It might not be politically wise to explicitly state that America has to settle for something less than a Jeffersonian democracy in Afghanistan before it leaves. But it is strategically necessary to define, or redefine, what victory in Afghanistan would look like. And once that's done, I think everyone might make a better judgment on whether it's worth the price.

Modern Protest

This post was initiated by an interesting article in today's NYTimes:

Legal Cost for Throwing Monkey Wrench Into the System

Briefly, a man is facing charges of fraud for intentionally placing bids for oil and gas rights on federally owned land near national parks and monuments.

This case is fascinating for a number of reasons. I recently met a young law student from Yale who wanted to become a federal prosecutor, partly because he wanted to make sure that he could sleep at night. He said that most of the defendants brought before federal court are guilty. (I did remind him that, while probably correct, the high conviction rate could mean other things.) Cases like this, where it is clear that the defendant broke the letter of the law, but the government's actions are also suspect and conflicting, do not lend themselves to easy moral resolution.

Perhaps less philosophically, and more practically, I think this is a fine example of how protest and dissent has evolved. In the last couple years, journalists noticed the difference between Vietnam-era protests by soldiers and today's professional lobbying, permitted by existing military regulation, used by active servicemen seeking an end to the Iraq War.

Every generation is heterogeneous. But I think enough of us see opportunities to use either (or both) Alinsky-esque tactics of disruption and reform efforts using existing institutions and structures.

Though he is guilty of breaking the law, I salute Tim DeChristopher for using an innovative, effective and nonviolent method of protest, and wish him well in his defense.

Review of Capitalism: A Love Story

Blog link: http://sunburntsky.blogspot.com/2009/10/review-of-capitalism-love-story.html

I just saw Michael Moore's new film, Capitalism: A Love Story. His most recent film explores a timely theme - America's relationship with American-style capitalism, and the chief architects of the system.

It wasn't my plan to watch it opening day - I'd actually forgotten about it, until I stumbled across Thursday's Tonight Show with Conan O'Brien interview with Michael Moore.

Capitalism: A Love Story is not an examination of who knew what, and when they knew it. Like his other films, it's more of an indictment of our elected leaders, our institutions, and our culture.

His style shows. In all his movies, there's some background, a lot of emotional moments with ordinary people caught in the maelstrom, humorous failed attempts to enter the halls of power, and even connections with Flint, Michigan, his hometown.

The opening is a masterful mix of a 1950s era documentary on the Roman Empire, cut with images from modern life. America as Rome has been a recurring leitmotif, especially among the scholars and jeremiads of domestic militarism. But I don't remember seeing such a concise and wry illustration of the similarities.

Even though Flint, GM, and his father's career at an auto parts plant come up, they are used as symptoms and clues, and not as a sustained metaphor for America's relationship with capitalism as both ideology and economic system in the postwar era.

As with Michael Moore's other films, his best footage is of ordinary Americans who are casualties in the battle between masters of the universe. One chapter, dealing with the existence and prevalence of insurance policies taken out on employees by an employer -- literally called "dead peasant" insurance in official correspondence by the banks -- is particularly chilling. The practice, while legal, is more insidious and creepy than the outrages documented by Moore in other movies.

I am grateful that the movie highlighted two things of which I was not previously aware:

1. Leaked Citigroup memos discussing America as a plutonomy and potential dangers from populist protest over a grossly inequitable wealth distribution

2. Floor speeches made by Rep. Marcy Kaptur (D-OH) screaming holy hell about the bailout bill.

Overall, the movie seemed to lack the energy that the other films had. He closes his film not with a stirring jeremiad, or a call to arms, but rather a somewhat resigned and tired plea for people to join him. "I can't keep doing this," he says, unless others somehow get involved.

Maybe it wasn't him. Maybe I'm the one who is exhausted, depressed, and numb to what has happened over the last year, or the last decade. I am a different person than I was in 2007. I'd like to get feedback from people who watch the movie on whether it felt noticeably different from Sicko and Fahrenheit 9/11.

Is it a must-watch? I'd have to say no, mostly because I'm not sure who would get something from the movie.

Those well versed in politics, economics and finance might find it breathtakingly and dangerously oversimplified. Similarly, someone completely ignorant of current events and the dismal science might embrace his message wholeheartedly, but be still left with a lack of agency and ultimately resignation that the issues are too big and, yes, inconceivable*, to do anything about it. And someone reasonably well-educated but not an expert on the issues might, with his or her friends, know just enough to have a long, fruitless, and confused argument about the movie afterwards.

Aside: We need to stop attributing vast mystery and power behind the word "derivative". I've included my somewhat simple, but hopefully clear, definition at the end of this.**

Perhaps it best serves not as a primer, but as a reminder that this last year was born from actions taking place over decades, by administrations from both parties, and by people who retain positions of great wealth and political power. We say, "Never forget," but we do. Films like this help us remember, even if we disagree on what precisely happened, or what to do about it.

Shameless plug: I'm still proud of my Dr. Seuss-like parody of the financial crisis, "TARP Funds in Hand".

Capitalism: A Love Story is rated R, and opened nationally on Friday.

*One of the interviewees is Wallace Shawn, most famous for his antics and frequent use of this word as Vizzini in The Princess Bride.

**Finally, for the record, a derivative's pricing may involve complicated mathematical models, but a derivative itself should not be too difficult a concept to grasp. As I understand it, it's a contract that derives its value from the value of whatever the contract is about. So, a contract to buy oil in September for $70 a barrel changes in value depending on how, and how much, the value of a barrel of oil changes (and as the time to expiration approaches).

Yes, the math can get damn complicated, but conceptually, people need to stop getting freaked out about them. Incidentally, the first futures contracts for agricultural goods were essentially used as insurance policies by farmers. So it might help to view derivatives as insurance contracts with so many terms and conditions that have morphed into speculative investment vehicles.

Finance-types: please feel free to point out the deficiencies in my definition and example

Today was a good day. I went to Irina and Brian's wedding, and had a wonderful time. It was good to see them again, but of course, I had to share them with the rest of the eager visitors and wellwishers.

It was wonderful to discover that the people there were bright, charismatic, and wonderfully conversant on a number of topics. I was sandwiched between two people - a blast from the past - back when I was a neophyte Europhile (or Eurosceptic, depending on the day of the week). Inbetween comments on how the four-year old boy was having more success meeting women than me, I had a couple great discussions on the financial crisis in Central and Eastern Europe and nuclear nonproliferation.

It was like water to a thirsty man in the desert.

Speaking of nuclear nonproliferation, I've got some homework from a professor I knew in Rome, now joining SAIS. She encouraged me to contact her so she can connect me with individuals working on making Obama's commitment to ratify the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty a reality. Key dates appear to be October 1, when the six-party talks with Iran will test whether recent considerations granted to Russia on missile shield issues will translate into Russian willingness to encourage Iran to abandon its nuclear program. As I recall, December was another key point - I forget why. The concern is that the Democrats would likely lose seats, making the already difficult two-thirds vote (67 senators) required nearly impossible.

I haven't looked at CTBT in a very long time. But the professor seemed to think that someone with a decent technical background and some interest and ability on the policy side could benefit from some experience, if not actually be somewhat helpful.

List of things to look at:
text of CTBT
history of CTBT
OTA and CTBT
projections for healthcare bill voting, and subsequent realignments
national lab districts, and positions held by representatives of those districts
updated projections on Iran's time to completion
early Cold War evolution of nuclear diplomacy - it was VERY different from what are now regarded as axioms of current nuclear diplomacy

and, of course

who I need to talk to to find work in this - I'll start with some people I know at Cornell and MIT

More generally, the night was wonderful. Dancing, hilarious conversation, beautiful people. Weddings are fun - I regret missing a few in the last couple years, and look forward to more.

Days like today remind me what I miss by disconnecting. The world is filled with bright, fascinating people, filled with passion and conviction and compassion. Damn complicated, but better than the simplicity of self-inflicted exile.

Last, but definitely first, congratulations to Brian and Irina for finding and building love, brick by brick, into a building that encompasses us all.

Eulogy for Robert F Kennedy, delivered by Edward Kennedy

Consistently ranked as one of the finest speeches in American politics, the eulogy Ted Kennedy gave for his brother, Robert, is worth reading, and worth hearing. I may have more to write about Ted Kennedy later, but I encourage everyone to give this speech a listen.

Eulogy for Robert F Kennedy

Yamada Nagamasa

On a narcissistic impulse, I decided to do a search for famous Yamadas. There appears to be a modest mix of names, especially given that it's the 13th most common surname in Japan. I found a retainer for the Shimazu clan, a comedian/governor of Osaka prefecture later disgraced by a sexual harassment conviction, some pop stars and models, and one general from Imperial Japan.

Yamada Nagamasa caught my eye because he was listed as an "adventurer; ruler of a province of Thailand".




It appears that Yamada was one of many Japanese exiles that found themselves in Thailand after losing key battles to Toyotomi and Tokugawa forces during Sengoku Jidai. Many of them were also exiled Christians, fleeing Japan in the wake of massive crackdowns on Christians and missionaries.

It appears Yamada made his fortune by being a pirate, preying on Dutch East India Company (VOC) ships around Java. The Japanese colony was also noted for its military expertise. He received his governorship and noble status by successfully leading a Japanese force of volunteers on behalf of the Thai King Songtham.

He was ultimately killed in 1630 during the battles of succession following Songtham's death. It's reported he was wounded, then poisoned. The new ruler, Prasat Thong, destroyed the Japanese settlement in the Thai capital, causing many to flee into Cambodia. Following this, Siam lost its trade rights with Japan, with the latter closing itself off from most outside contact. The VOC expanded into the power vacuum and profited handsomely, and that, as they say, is history.

Am I related? He spent three years in Japan, probably mostly in the Kyushu area, since that's where outside traders were permitted. My family is said to be from Southern Japan. A stretch, but not impossible, that I might be the descendant of an illegitimate child.

I've linked this note to my Thai friends. I always wondered how we got along so well - I attributed it to the spectacular charm and hospitality of the Thai people in general, and my friends in particular. But maybe I'm more Thai than I knew...

Science Friday - Food security and Science in America

I've had a head cold all week. It's terrible, and entering into the achy, can't-drive-so-I'll-nap-and-drink-coffee-at-Starbucks-in-Virginia-because-I-needed-to-get-out-of-the-house-but-underestimated-my-fatigue phase. I should at least be no longer contagious by the time Mom stops by on Sunday, giving me a chance to acquire whatever contagions she picked up flying through O'Hare.

One good thing came of this trip. (It wasn't the Mexican food in Leesburg - what the hell was I thinking?) I listened to parts of both hours of Science Friday, hosted by Ira Flatow. Ann, it's taken me four years to actually getting around to sampling the program. And I can safely say that your enthusiasm for the show wasn't just your characteristic enthusiasm for life in general. It's an excellent program that discusses substantive issues in an easy-to-understand way.

One of the programs discussed the future of food production in the developed and developing world (and provided the fabulous phrase "fundamentalist locovore"). It's a must-listen for those who care about local food, yet may find themselves scratching their heads about how imported grass-fed mutton from New Zealand could be better for the world than locally grown beef. Don't worry - (sadly) the program shied away from becoming a quant fest with lots of numbers, though there were some distressing statistics on the significant drain on our resources due to meat production.

The other part I listened into covered the newest Chris Mooney book, co-authored with Sheril Kirshenbaum, titled Unscientific America . (For those of you who don't know, this is likely a play on the title of a prominent science magazine, Scientific American. I look forward to reading this book - Ms. Kirshenbaum provided an interesting exposition in the radio interview.

I hope the book covers the issue of competing legitimacy. In a previous post on California Proposition 8/gay marriage, science, and religion in America, I mentioned how a part of Mike Huckabee's talk at Cornell hammered home that the assumptions governing a lot of scientists frustrated by public skepticism of evolution and global warming are probably incorrect. With a different set of starting assumptions, the position of the skeptics of science becomes not only understandable, but reasonable and legitimate. Recognizing that a different system of trust is operating is important for anyone who wants something more than an excuse to yell and berate the ignorance of the other.

I hope to pick up the book and do a review in the coming weeks.

In any event, I'll have to add Science Friday to my regular media consumption. Next on the list - last week's podcast including an interview by my representative, Roscoe Bartlett (R-MD) about smart energy grids and potential concerns/dangers with them.

A letter to myself

Dear Ryan,

I'm writing this letter because you seem to be adrift, lost, in desperate need of some encouragement, advice, chastisement, and even, more fundamentally, company. You seem unsatisfied with the words and actions of others, and so, since I have some unique insight and stake in the matter, I will give it a try.

It's time for you to speak plainly, and be spoken plainly to.

Here is where you are: you are with your back to your wall, emotionally, intellectually, physically, professionally, socially, and financially. There is nowhere to run, no more lies to tell yourself or others. You have failed to run from life, and now life has come to find you.

What you do next will be as telling as anything you've done in the last seven years; indeed, it will be used to help others understand and interpret your past actions and inactions.

This letter will not be a kick in the ass or a slap to the face.Maybe you're looking for that negative reinforcement - maybe that's the only sort of care and concern you recognize and value. It would demonstrate emotional investment by another person in you.

But the likely result will be a reactionary mindset, a temperament built on responding to stimulus, instead of planning for and executing my own destiny. Bullying yourself hasn't gotten you anywhere, and you've fought and beat naysayers your entire life.

The common theme among the content and moderately successful individuals I have met - successful by so many metrics, but definitely by their own - is the ability to move beyond selfishness and live for something more. For some, it's God. For some, it's Country. Many try to live for Love, but few enough succeed. But all gave up the luxury and fiction of sole importance.

You have not. You have changed your geography, educational status, and professed professional goals. But ultimately, you haven't been willing to give this up.

Case in point - in your 26 years of life, you haven't really had a girlfriend. You haven't really tried very hard, either. A significant other doesn't translate into a significant life. But it is a bit curious - unusual, if not necessarily bad in itself.

It's not that you lack a modicum of good looks, wit, charm, and grace, all alleged to be good qualities in a boyfriend. And God knows you've met enough fuck-ups who are in relationships to know that they aren't prerequisites. But the obsession with self, which ultimately leads to a hatred of self, blinds you of what you could build in this world with others, and perhaps, one special Other.

Let's venture another proposition. You let yourself be defined solely by your academic achievement and alleged brain power. In the face of alternative ways of viewing the world, or even contravening evidence, you maintained a facade of being somehow extraordinary by simply being. When that failed, your ego and identity collapsed.

I tell you truly, you forgot that resting on laurels, deserved or not, is completely antithetical to what you respect. Furthermore, the measure of a man is what is done, what is said, what is loved, and not properties divorced from a living, dynamic, and complicated world of other people.

You cannot replace one lie with another and expect rapid improvement. So you are no longer the golden child of your family, the wunderkind of Rosemead, someone who seemed blessed with the mind and soul of Einstein.

But you never were.

Similarly, though you have done your best to bring it about, you will never be a worthless idiot.

Yes, you have sabotaged your career, your finances, your very mind through blunt instruments of mindless tedium and a semi-conscious exile from the people of earlier times. But even as you have ceded your judgment and sense, you retain a mind capable of rational analysis, a heart not too easily swayed by violent swings in either anger, joy, or sorrow. The world still has need of someone like you, of your temperament, background, insight, and, perhaps, courage. You gain nothing by further missteps, and those who love you and need you will suffer for any ill-fated attempts at metaphorical self-immolation. Martyrs need a cause, and you have none.

There are no stochastic rises or falls in fortune. Not for you, and not for those you have known. Your family history is filled with stories of valor and tragedy. Your grandfather fought and triumphed over his demons and the vicissitudes of war. Your father succumbed to the arrogance that comes with a rapid rise and a chip on your shoulder, and found peace only after he lost everything. Little enough can be controlled, and less predicted.

Yet you are still master of your own ship, if not of the sea and the wind. There are themes to notice, processes to learn and incorporate, and an awareness of potential problems and opportunities to cultivate. And you are no longer a child; no matter how far you run, you have a responsibility to this world, to those you share it with, and to yourself.

Remember your training. You have been trained to look at complicated problems, to break them down piece by piece, to respect the limits of knowledge without accepting that they are eternally insurmountable, and to know that some problems do not have optimal solutions, or solutions at all. They simply have various degrees of responses and resulting consequences.

Remember your character. At one time you held yourself to be a scientist and a Christian. Each carries special responsibilities; each is strict in its standards. Your goal was moral courage, not moral perfection, and you possessed judgment without passing it.

And most of all, remember those you love and live for. They are your last, best guard against excesses that would destroy you. They are your counselors, philosophers, and friends. They do not always offer words, or love on your terms. But recognize it for what it is. They are worth a hundred Eisenhowers, a hundred Marshalls, because they live, because they yet change themselves and their surroundings through the many small acts of courage that constitute a day lived. They will teach you more about yourself and life than the dusty books you scan desperately for some way out of your predicament. Let them in and bury your fears - that's the one battle that has yet to be joined, and the one battle you must win.

Remember these things. Recognize how your goals and opportunities have changed. But do not give up on that which was, simply because there is enough good there worth salvaging that it's worth the hard work of sifting and incremental improvement. It is hard work, harder than anything you may have known. It's your life's work. There's no way to know how it will turn out.

But just by trying, by really, really trying, and working, and not giving up on yourself, you will respect yourself more, and be respected more, than at any other time in your life. You will finally be worthy of whatever it is you've sought, for so many years, with driving insecurity and speechless rage.

Best wishes,

Ryan

The Worst Mistake

The Worst Mistake

I made a lot of mistakes when I was at Cornell. I didn't seek out help when I felt myself hitting intellectual walls. I wasn't organized with my time, both academically and personally, as I needed to be.

But the worst mistake? I let myself get intimidated.

Even after I decided to leave, even after I knew, at some level, that the individuals in my department, or at the university, would have at best a modest professional impact on my future, I was still intimidated, to the point of being scared. I was intimidated by my boss. I was intimidated by my mentors. I was intimidated by the place, by the damn history and brand of the Ivy League.

And when I got intimidated, I started doubting the value of your ideas, and of your very self. It's the worst possible slippery slope out there.

To be driven by fear is to cede the reins of character and destiny to another, or to no one at all, even if, ultimately, we are the ones to choose to fear - even if, as was my case, I alone held the proverbial gun to my head.

I have seen myself, and those I love, driven by fear on many occassions. We may respond to it differently - some bluster and grow angry when discussing topics beyond their understanding, as if anger was a sufficient armor against self-imposed ignorance.

Some grow even more timid and withdrawn, further handicapping their ability to deal with a changing and hysteretic world.

Some turn the handicap of ignorance into a standard, by which to rally other fearful men and women. When they grow powerful enough, they create their own courage, and their own truth.


A quote from Edward R. Murrow, "A Report on Senator Joseph R. McCarthy".

We will not be driven by fear into an age of unreason, if we dig deep in our history and our doctrine, and remember that we are not descended from fearful men -- not from men who feared to write, to speak, to associate and to defend causes that were, for the moment, unpopular. (1)

I take this quote not because my circumstances at Cornell were in no way like the McCarthy era, but simply because it's one of the finest quotes I've come across on the place for dissent and intellectual bravery.

While I was at Cornell, I learned that the best lead not through fear of intimidation, behind a cordon of specialized language and memes that, as in many other professions, serve more as barriers to entry and identifiers of class and station than as important concepts and shortcuts that facilitate discussion among professionals.

The best lead through a different sort of fear. We who look up to them fear disappointing them, fear falling short of their crisply gauged expectations of our potential. Mountains have been moved, and wars have been won, by individuals motivated by such fear, that, with enough time and confidence building, develops into a full-blown respect of self, of their mentor, and of that common cause that provides both goal and environment for the development of character.

In other words, the best lead not through intimidation, but by being beacons so worthy of respect that we would drive ourselves out of an ancient need to be close to those who best embody tribe and honor.

We are but men and women, all of us. But few enough remember that, and choose to at least live as men and women. Whatever we do, whatever we have been, we must never, never, give in to the temptation to settle for less than that.

(1) From http://www.lib.berkeley.edu/MRC/murrowmccarthy.html.