Sunday, July 6, 2014

AFG: The CRC Pad


So, for whatever reason, I decided to go to a warzone generally and Afghanistan specifically. The journey began in Georgia at what's affectionately called the CRC or CONUS Replacement Center -- note that "CONUS" is Department of Defense (DoD) terminology for "The Continental United States." The journey begins at a large cement pad with a roof to protect people from the sun and other elements. Note that while I was there, in July and August, there were no other elements. I had this fleeting idea that rain might also bring some much needed cooler air, but all it did was increase the humidity, if that was possible. 

We mustered there on our first day to check our paperwork because without proper paperwork, nobody was going anywhere. I had procured our paperwork only a few hours before heading down Georgia, which was a minor miracle. I wonder what would have happened had I not got the paperwork finalized, but luckily I didn't have to find out. I also wondered how many of the guys there didn't have their paperwork in order, but I didn't really care. I just wanted to ensure my situation was squared away, and it was. 

I was there with equal parts contractors and military, but the military had little love for the contractors and there was good reason for that -- we were a pretty slovenly bunch. I was there as an international relations scholar (call me a "recovering academic") who had done some analysis work for DARPA (the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency), but most were mechanics and workers who had other skills necessary to the US military war effort. Being "the DARPA guy" had the advantage of being interestingly different but the military guys figured that I was smart but overpaid and of dubious utility. Perhaps they were right. 

Friday, July 4, 2014

Tradition, Complexity, and Social Value

I confess that I find modern politics confusing. However, there are a few theories that I find helpful to explain political dynamics. I find that whenever a liberal – which is basically a Democrat, or a progressive, or a socialist – gets angry about a subject, I take that as an invitation to think more seriously, deeply, and logically about the topic. So when Joshua Cohen – the Martha Sutton Weeks Professor of Ethics in Society at Stanford University, though when I knew him he was at MIT – took offense at my referring to his philosophy of law class as “radical,” Joshua’s anger presents an invitation for further inquiry in hopes of revealing political insights.

The inquiry begins with a simple review of the definition of the word “radical,” which means, “very new and different from what is traditional or ordinary.” My working definition becomes, “seeking or favoring fundamental change.” So the question then becomes, why might changing the political order be fundamentally problematic? Or conversely, what value is there in social arrangements that are ‘traditional’ or ‘ordinary’?  

The observation that provides insight into this question derives from complexity theory generally and software engineering specifically. When I was a computer science student, I spent a summer creating 10,000 lines of computer code – object-oriented C specifically. It was hard, and so it’s worth considering how I treated that code. Did I “seek or favor fundamental change,” or did I pursue a more conservative course of action? I pursued the second course because, even though I created all 10,000 lines of code, and I new that code better than anybody on the planet, I didn’t know was going to happen when I changed that code. I changed the code with a plan about what I thought was going to happen, but I was frequently surprised and needed to go back. There were times that I would implement two or three changes together, which would end up breaking what was already working, and then I would have undo my changes and then test each one carefully and individually. Consequently, I undertook changes to this system very carefully. This is actually a key engineering lesson: build on what’s known because radical changes tend not to work.

There is a lesson to be learned here for politics. That is, if you treat social systems as complex systems, and there are good reasons for doing so, then this argues against making fundamental changes. Why? Because those implementing the changes DO NOT KNOW what is going to happen. People generally are bad at predicting and confirming that promised changes actually occur. This is why science – predicting what will happen, creating an experiment, and then confirming the prediction – is so important and so hard. The fundamental insight then is this: social systems are even more complex than the software I built that summer, so these so-called experts have even less of an idea of what will happen with their policy changes than I did changing my software because they didn’t create the system, they have only studied it.

Logically then, it would make sense to study social system significantly before attempting to change them. I have studied complex social systems significantly in my monograph, Environmental Impacts of Globalization and Trade, but most policies are not subject to that level of rigor. In fact, I would say that most are not given the level of study that they deserve. And why is that? It’s because these so-called experts are not experts at social systems and their analysis, which would be logical, but they’re expert at self-promotion and seeming like experts. Moreover, the consideration of policy consequences is anathema. Finally, people who are capable of actual analysis would be demonized because they are capable of revealing the charlatanism of the pseudo-experts, who revel in the make-believe world of the media. These charlatans are expert at crafting and selling compelling stories, but the ultimate question is, “Do they work?” That is the value of proven technologies and tradition: they have been proven to work. These stories purveyed by the pseudo-experts? These innovations are designed to enrich the charlatans, not to work as advertised.  


This is a very old tension, which was explained in Plato’s Gorgias in his parable about the pilot. That is, Plato says there is a big difference between somebody who knows how to drive a ship and somebody who looks and talks like they know how to drive a ship. To conclude, let me review the MIT Seal, where Joshua Cohen was a professor and where I was a student. The seal features a both a scholar and an engineer with the phrase “mens et manus,” which is Latin for, “head and hand.” The way I interpret this is that there are lots of ideas from the head or “mens,” but very few that are proven workable over the long-term by experience, the hand, or “manus.” To conclude, there is a tension between our understanding and reality – we may want to believe in the possibility and benefits of radical change, but experience and reality show that most radical changes do not work and that tradition is undervalued and traditional solutions underappreciated.