Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GyVHrGLiTcc (46m20s)

Transcript: https://medium.com/what-to-build/is-anything-worth-maximizing-d11e648eb56f (10,314 words with footnotes and references)

Excerpt:

...for simple maximizers, its choices are just about numbers. That means its choices are in the numbers. Here, the choice between two desserts is just a choice between numbers. We could say its choice is already made. And that it has no responsibility, since it’s just following what the numbers say.

Reason-based maximizers don’t just see numbers, though, they also see values. Here, there’s a choice between two desserts — but it isn’t a choice between two numbers. See, it’s also a choice between two values. One option means being a seize-the-day, intensity kind of person. The other means being a foody, aristocratic, elegance kind of person.

My personal thoughts about this talk: it's a kind of strange, kind of dubious philosophical and multi-disciplinary reflection on metrics for organizations, especially metrics for tech companies, and on the pitfalls of optimizing for metrics in what the speaker argues is too "simple" a way.

I don't entirely trust the speaker or the argument, but there was enough in the talk to stimulate curiosity and reflection that I thought it was worth watching.

I recently visited the fire department museum in Marietta, GA (outside ATL). There were very many interesting things to look at, but one of the things that caught my eye were the gauges on the 19th century fire engine. I experienced them on an emotional level as works of art. The faces and the hands were exquisite, and were no doubt created by hand, by someone dedicated to doing their very best job.

I couldn’t see it with old eyes, but I bet an optics assisted examination would reveal that a similar analogue gaguges on the 80’s style fire engines had a much higher degree of precision, smoother lines, more accuracy and consistency in measurement. But there was something ineffable about the dial, profound and unmistakable. The old timey dial adds to life, the mass produced dial, no matter how well produced, perform a function but otherwise just take up space.

One interesting thing about this quality, which I’ve called Wu after Dick’s book, is how immeasurable and subjective it is. Does that make it less real? I can’t even really define the quality, all I can do is acknowledge my experience of it. Another interesting quality is that it is only available to me in human creations. I don’t experience anywhere in nature, as much as I cherish wilderness.

Dick’s examination is often delivered in the context of distinguishing between original and counterfeit jewelry, which is apt. Another place I experience it is in audio equipment. Even modern ultra high fidelity equipment lacks wu for me, largely because so much of it is produced by machines. There’s a reason musicians who can afford any equipment often opt for old gear.

I wonder if a deliberate effort to restore wu, especially to everyday items, could benefit society at a fundamental level. Craft markets have hardly gone away, and we see a great many side hustle type products in sectors like soap and baby onesies and other home goods and fashion. But wouldn’t it be cool if your stove had wu? Your car? Your mobile?

No idea how we could decide to do that as a global population, let alone implement it. Perhaps it will be a side benefit of the apocalypse.

I promised @chocobean that I would talk about my recent turn to Christianity, so here goes.

The short, trite answer is that I’m taking a leap of faith on a few mystical experiences, and because I’ve run out of spiritual options. Everything else I have tried to do with my life has come up short. A lot of this outcome results from a traumatic early childhood formed, perhaps ironically, in part from Christian religious abuse. In some way perhaps I am trying to synthesize and re-narrate that experience. But also, I really want to go to a Church that is fun, fulfilling, challenging, and does progressive good in the world. There just ain’t a lot of those to choose from, so I figure I need to start my own. For a little more detail, read on. You can skip to the last two paragraphs for a little more reasoned “why Christianity here and now,” independent of my experience.

I was born into a fundamentalist family. Lots of rules, hell, purity, that sort of thing. Very traumatic, and I mean clinical trauma. I left the church in high school thanks to drugs and some smart people, but I maintained a kind of love affair (infatuation?) with good preaching. Something deep inside me responds to the gospel message. I cry when I listen to Jesus Christ Superstar, and a passionate preacher with a good heart, and great gospel music. This is likely tied to suffering-religion at its best helps us grieve and carry on, find joy in a broken world.

One time in college, after a psychedelic party, I found myself unable to sleep, a common side effect I experienced from LSD. I turned on the local gospel station, and suddenly was struck with the urge to go to church. This was black folks gospel, and so I wanted to go to a black church. There was one I knew about, and I have no idea how it was in my consciousness. It was called Life Community Church in Durham, NC. I put on my best suit, tied my tie, and with dilated eyes and doughy disposition I set off. I arrived at precisely 10:30, the service time identified on the marquee.

You may be familiar with black folks time, which is often most evident at church. Black folks time is about moving when the spirit moves you. When I arrived, on white folks time, the church was half-full. It met in an old movie theater, the kind with hundreds of seats. I was ushered to a seat, which was basically the next available seat, they were filled sequentially from the front. This was different from other churches I attended, where members generally seat themselves in their customary location, a respectful distance from others.

There was a large, energetic gospel ensemble delivering the real gospel goods. Large choir, lots of electric instruments, percussion. Everybody dressed better than I was. And I did my best to keep up, clapping hands and shouting and grinning. I was all in.

After a while, the pastor came on stage, a 6’8 Nigerian native. He made a few comments, and invited us to pass the peace. In a white church, this takes a couple minutes, and you politely smile and shake the hands of the people around you. At Life Community, however, everybody left their seats and wandered around giving hugs and smiles and lots of time to each other. No idea how long we were at that, but I did notice that space was now standing room only.

Then the preacher was joined by his 5’4 (at most) Guatemalan wife, who greeted us cheerfully before the pastor began his sermon. It was all mostly about leading a decent life, strong families, moderation, godliness, fairly conservative socially. I was riveted to every word, I clapped and shouted and prayed.
When everything was finally over, and I had been repeatedly and warmly welcomed and invited to come back, I finally made it to my car and noted the time: 3:30 p.m.! And I knew then, this was what I wanted to do with my life-bring this kind of joy, and be a channel of this kind of power.

I didn’t have any real religion then, however, wrongly thinking that was some kind of requirement, and so I left the dream on the table. I went on to become a drug addict, get clean, get married, have kids and begin life as a lawyer.

When the kids started to get mobile, their mom and I decided we ought to go to church, that it would be good for the kids morals, provide community, that sort of thing. I was buddhist/atheist/soft new age, not really in on the Jesus thing, but it seemed right. We found a church with a great garden out front and a pride sticker on the door, and headed in. Compared to Life Community Church, the preaching was good, but not as passionate, though the message more closely aligned with my values.

The best part of the experience was Sunday school, however, and I even taught a couple classes, really enjoyed doing the bible study part of it. I started paying more attention and getting more involved. We brought in Nadia Bolz-Weber as guest preacher one Sunday. Nadia is a powerful preacher, and her work in Colorado was very promising for a time. While she was preaching, I had a mystical experience, a feeling of lightness and an urgent awareness that I should be up there doing that same thing. My (now Ex) wife was surprisingly into the idea, and so were the pastors. I went and toured a seminary in pursuit of the call. But at the seminary I was like, there is no way I can spend three years with these people, and I still wasn’t really a believer, so I let the moment pass. It’s one of the few regrets I have in life, following the call then may have led to my marriage having a very different outcome. Alas for life choices.

Come forward a few years, the marriage has dissolved bitterly, I have come out of denial about how awful my childhood was and how dysfunction of a human I had become, and how much my kids suffered as a result. Among my many ongoing efforts to remedy this, I found myself at a spiritual retreat in what is known in some circles (mainly Quaker) as a “Clearness Committee.” It’s a space where someone with some kind of intractable problem becomes the subject of a conclave of caring folks. I was there to figure out career transition. There were some q and a, some breathwork, and in the middle of a silent spot someone asked the shockingly straightforward question, “what do you really want to do?”

The answer in my mind was immediately, “I want to preach.” And almost as immediately, a voice came into mind “you can’t do that,” coupled with a profound fear of saying so out loud. I knew from previous spiritual work this was a sign that I should immediately take the contrary action, and so spoke it out.

Now, this was not a Christian gathering, but as it happened, the person who asked the question was a Christian pastor, and she gave me some names and numbers of people to talk to. As it also happened, she used to work for a guy in my current Church, who, as it further happened, was the past president of a prestigious divinity school. This was my favorite guy in Church, and so I talked to him, and here we are. A lot of yes all in a row.

So, it’s really a gamble on a set of experiences I don’t fully understand about a God I barely believe in. But I knew almost instantly as soon as I arrived in divinity school that I was doing the right thing. I still don’t believe, but I have made a decision to act in faith anyway. From an intellectual point of view, I have a strong impulse to do something, anything, to try and bring some goodness to the world. And since, in my estimation, for better or worse, America is a Christian nation, it seems Church could be an effective vehicle for that. Plus, I really do want to be a preacher.

I was about to end there because it sounded cool, but I want to say a little more about why Christianity might be especially good for my values, and for the West. More than just custom and tradition, I’m discovering that a lot of the way I think about the existence of the world is really Christian in nature. Most intellectuals since the 18th century or so would point to Plato, or more recently, to chaos as the proper way to order a mind. But in practice, most people are espousing a neo-Platonist Christian kind of justice and morality. In a super short sentence, this is that creation and humanity were made for each other. Ten years ago I would have said, and a large part of me still believes, the truth is more a kind of Manifestatum ex Chao of both together, and perhaps there is nothing particularly special about humanity. However, most people, practically at least, seem to recognize that rational ordering exists uniquely in the human mind alongside a more programmatic animal nature. They also seem to believe in the notion of goodness. Many humanists argue that we can be “good without God,” however, as far as I can tell they arguing about a goodness which is derived from Christian scholarship (love your neighbor). Even if I’m wrong on that, and/or they are right about the uselessness of God for good, most people in the way they act suggest an assumption that true compassion flows from the Christian God. As a result, I think the best way to foment good for most people here where I am geographically is within the Christian religious framework.

Finally, I’m partial to the notion of classical (medieval?) professionalism: a professional is one who professes a noble principle, i.e. clergy profess goodness, educators profess truth, military officers, peace, lawyers, justice, physicians, health, and artists, beauty.

I often tell myself that I'm "already dead". I lost my ego long ago and I often don't mind looking dumb or making mistakes, because at the end of the day, why does it matter? We're all going to die and my existence will not change the earth's future.

Thinking this way has GREATLY helped me look forward to the future and reach true happiness. It feels like whatever happens, I've already reached rock bottom so I can only go ahead.

Having said that, ever since 2016, every year has been better than the last. I now have a good fulfilling career, I have a very good group of friends, I'm good financially and I have all the freedom in the world.

Why do I live? I live for experiences, I live to create memories, I live to explore, I live to create, I live to better myself.

So, what are your reasons? I'm always curious about other people's life stories.

Oftentimes I find myself feeling overwhelmed when listening to music that speaks to me. I feel vivid imagery cover the landscape in my mind's eye, as if a custom made music video was being created on the spot to accompany the sound.

I encounter a frustrating obstacle when considering how to best translate this surge of inspiration into art. I know exactly what I want to create but feel limited by a lack of experience in animation, modeling, illustration etc. and the time it would take to approximate my vision. Altogether, it becomes discouraging and the idea withers before it has a chance to blossom.

My question to the creatively-minded is this—what strategies are deployed to counteract your self-doubt before it undermines your inspiration?

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Thank you for any wisdom offered. The tildes community is special and dear to my heart ♡