-Malin
Donnerstag, 12. Juli 2012
How Do We Link Words to Their Meanings?
The Weight Problem
Overweight and obesity might not only be individual problems anymore but
also collective ones. Biologists have calculated the human biomass as an
additional means to measure the impact – and in this case the word “impact” can
be taken quite literally – of the human race on our planet and have found out,
that out of the total human biomass of 287 million tonnes, 15 million tonnes can
be traced back to overweight and 3.5 million tonnes to obesity. This is quite a
lot, especially considering the fact that this additional mass of 15 million
tonnes is equivalent to 242 million humans with an average weight of 62 kg.
That sheds light not only on the problem of “population growth” but also
on the problem of “overconsumption” as epidemiologist Ian Robert states.
Yet, what might or should be the consequences of this finding? The more
someone weighs, the more energy input his body needs. The more energy is
needed, the more the planet is exploited. When following this argument, obviously
human weight should be reduced in order to save the planet. Yet, implementing
policies that help solving this problem can lead to absurd and problematic
decisions like the one-child-policy in China. In addition, overweight and obesity
have different causes in the range from overeating to genetic defects, which
makes it difficult to implement any law that would regulate the weight of each
individual. Only the diet industry can rejoice: now they have one argument more
to convince people to buy their products. The possible slogan could be: save
the planet – drink (insert name of protein drink here)!
-Malin
No More Bites
What predators do we have? It seems, that we as human race got rid of
all animals that could possibly do us harm: we either hunted them to death or put them
behind bars. The few accidents like crocodile or bear attacks that happen
occasionally don’t threaten us on a big scale. Yet, there is a species – no,
even worse: 3500 species – that is able to kill millions of people with just a
sting: the mosquito. That answers the question from the beginning: we do have a
predator, but it is tiny.
Nature, an
international science journal, put out the questions to scientists working in
the field: “So what would happen if there were none? Would anyone or anything
miss them?” Or differently put: would any ecosystem become unstable because one
link in the food chain was missing? What sounds like pure curiosity in the
beginning can easily turn into an ethical matter, because the suggestion behind
the question points at an eradication of 3500 species in favor of one. The
answers from the specialists point in different directions and reach from concerns
about the ecosystem in the Arctic tundra to utterances such as: “[the]
ecological effect of eliminating harmful mosquitoes is that you have more
people. That’s the consequence.” What Daniel Strickman from the US Department
of Agriculture in Beltsville, Maryland points out here could be turned around
in asking: what harm would humans do to our ecosystem if they lost their main
predator?
This question, however, doesn’t appear to feel itchy to any of the
scientists mentioned in the article – on the contrary. To seek a way of getting
rid of an annoying discomfort seems to be the common viewpoint, which the
writer of the article, Janet Fang, puts in a nutshell by stating that “[it] is
the limitations of mosquito-killing methods, not the limitations of intent,
that make a world without mosquitoes unlikely.”
Can Chimpanzees See Numbers in Colors?
Although we as human beings tend to preen ourselves on our perceived
superior memory ability in comparison to ‘other’ animals, test results gained
at Kyoto University’s Primate Research Institute suggest otherwise. Chimpanzees
appear to be far better in memorizing than any human when it comes to numbers. Tetsuro Matsuzawa, professor of language and
intelligence at the aforementioned institute, has conducted several studies
with chimpanzees, in which he let them order numbers in consecutive progression
from one to nine. These numbers appeared on a computer touch screen for only
split seconds, leaving white squares, which the chimpanzees were supposed to
touch in the right succession. Especially Ayumu, a chimpanzee that gained
stardom through the studies, was able to fulfill the task with an amazing
reliability. So far, no human was able to surpass Ayumu in his performance.
Matsuzawa sees the reason for Ayumu’s success in the chimpanzee’s good
memory skills – a view that is challenged by psychologist Nicholas Humphrey who
suggests a different explanation: Ayumu could experience what is called
“synesthesia”, the ability to see numbers in colors. This way, the after-effect
of the ‘colored’ numbers could show on the white squares, which then would make
it easy for the chimpanzee to tap on the ‘colors’ in a learned order. So far, this
ability has been only linked to humans due to their capacity of building chains
of numbers or letters, but why should it not also apply to a chimpanzee that
has learned how to count?
To date, however, Matsuzawa hasn’t shown any interest in testing this
possibility, although the test Humphrey proposes sounds simple: color the
squares to begin with and then observe, if the chimpanzee scores the same test
results as he usually does with black numbers on white squares.
The Mystery of Self
Argentine writer Jorge Luis Borges introduces
in his essay “Borges and I” his sense of self, which oscillates between two
seemingly contradictory poles: the “I”, whom Rhodes interprets as the “private”
one, and “Borges”, the “public” figure. Whereas these two people couldn’t be
more apart from each other in Borges view, they still need each other to not
only be able to produce, but also to share their work. In fact, these ‘selves’
are one person.
In her
article “Ignorance and Mystery”, structural biologist Gale Rhodes states, that
science has the function to tell ignorance apart from mystery with the latter,
in contrary to the former, eluding scientific description. She exemplifies the
difference between the two by describing the notion of “feeling” in scientific
terms, which in her opinion falls short of also giving an explanation of the
self that is feeling these sensations in the first place. Drawing on Borges’
idea of two selves, Rhodes assigns the scientist to one and the artist to the
other self, claiming, that only the clearance of ignorance in combination with
acknowledging the essential mystery of life can constitute a complete human being.
Rhodes
displays her idea of science versus art assuming that both are contradictory to
each other as well as complementing each other. But what if you follow the
scientific path and come to the conclusion, that there really is no such thing
as a “self”? What kind of sentimentality makes her think, that there has to be
more to a human being, something “mysterious” even?
Although I like her humble approach to science as not the only way to
explaining life, I think, reducing the arts to the sole act of experiencing and
communicating feeling doesn’t suffice. Either it is necessary to change the
paradigms of science or the meaning of art to come to a conclusion that is
consistent in itself. What she essentially does, is explaining religion,
because religion works the same way: what we cannot explain, we have to
believe. Yet, this belief is always dependent on how far we are willing to
investigate life, which can mean that we have to take the risk of disenchanting
it. But is that so horrible? Neither the “self” nor “feelings” are fixed
entities – they are constantly changing. Maybe Rhodes is afraid of losing the
romantic in her life and therefore tries to protect it by creating a somewhat
‘holy’ category that is impossible to attack. Acknowledging, however, that
there is no “self” does not have to be contradictory to the experience of love
and happiness.
-Malin
Mittwoch, 4. Juli 2012
The ‘New Amadeus’: Computer Composing Classical Music That 'Rocks'
Photograph: Gautier Deblonde[1]
Often have I heard of
modernist music being subject to a controversial debate, but never before have
I encountered a computer – Iamus, ‘named after the son of Apollo who could
understand the language of birds’, - being responsible for music critics
racking their heads. Iamus’ composition ’Transits – Into an Abyss’, created in
the modernist style of Bartók, Ligeti, and Penderecki will be released in
September, while the devisor of the computer program, Francisco Vico from
Malaga University, is lucky to report that among the performers will be
high-class musicians such as the London Symphony Orchestra. He promises that
‘it’s going to be disturbing’, that is for sure.
Question is and remains, how
can artificial intelligence be distinguished from human intelligence? How does
Iamus actually proceed and can his compositions be considered ‘good’, maybe
even ‘better than human’? Where are the differences and can they be perceived? Readers
are invited to take a test and judge for themselves on http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2012/jul/01/iamus-computer-composes-classical-music
where they are offered five examples of which four pieces are composed by
humans while Iamus wrote exactly one. I can tell, because I took the test, that
it is recognizable, indeed, there is something that cannot be named that distinguishes
the computer example from Mahler, Ligeti, Penderecki and Strockhausen. Fortunately.
Now, how does Iamus work? He ‘composes by
mutating simple starting material in a manner analogous to biological evolution,
the compositions each have a musical core, a "genome", that gradually
becomes more complex’, it says in the corresponding article. Iamus does so automatically
and exclusively do the researchers intervene by specifying the rough length of the
piece and the set of instruments. This idea works for all instruments, all genomes,
and even for producing variations of popular pieces. Composer Gustavo Díaz-Jerez
explains that this single genome can generate a great number of melodies, similar
to western music. ‘That’s why the music makes sense’.
Using computers for music compositions
is not new. There have already been algorithms like GenJam, GenBebop, and the Continuator
that knew how to improvise in the style of Charlie Parker-which is admirable
since many humans would not get the gist of it-but with Iamus it ‘seems to be the first
time music composed by computer has been deemed good enough for top-class performers
to play’, author Phillip Ball reports. While the LSO was skeptical about the music
at first, the quality and expressiveness of the lines Iamus composed were convincing.
Díaz-Jerez even pronounces some of Iamus’ works ‘better than those produced by some
avant-garde composers’. Whatever our opinion might be, I think we could agree
on that at least. Nina
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