Saturday 30 December 2023

review: Designing Freedom

Stafford Beer.
Designing Freedom: Massey lectures.
Canadian Broadcasting Company. 1974


This slim book (100 paperback-sized pages) is a transcript of a series of six radio lectures given in 1973, with some additional illustrative sketches.

Stafford Beer was a renowned systems thinker, in the field of operations research and management cybernetics. These lectures outline his view of what the severe problems with management and governmental practices are, and how to solve them by taking Ashby’s Law of Requisite Variety seriously.

His point is that these human systems are dynamic systems of parts and connections, not static fixed monoliths, and they need to be thought of as such to even ask the right questions. In particular, he points out that what we typically observe as the entity, the system, are actually outputs of that system, products of the system organised to produce them. Focussing on the outputs as if they were the system itself then leads to problems when we try to modify or stabilise things. In particular, societal properties like crime, poverty, immorality and the like are outputs of a society organised to produce these (“the cruelty is the point”), not mere unfortunate “blemishes” that can be ironed out by doubling down on our current practices. If we want liberty, say, then we need to design a system of government where liberty is an output.

And how do we interact with, and modify, such tremendously complex and dynamic systems as organisations, governments, and society? Here is where the Law of Requisite Variety comes in. If a system has a lot of variety (a large number of possible states) then we need to match and “absorb” that variety with an equal amount of variety in our interactions and interventions. But we can’t actually do that in practice, since the resources producing system variety greatly outweigh and outnumber our resources to intervene (eg, there are more and various people in the population producing variety than there are government ministers and civil servants responding). So what to do?

If the system has too much variety for regulation, then its variety must be attenuated, or regulatory variety must be increased, to make them match. However, many variety attenuators (low variety models, aggregation, long and set time periods, etc) are not appropriate for faster moving dynamic systems. Beer discusses several approaches from the point of view of operations research, but his main emphasis is on the use of computers as variety matchers. He mentions that common use of computers is counter-productive, attenuating when they should increase, and vice versa, however. He talks about his Chilean experiment in cybernetic government, cut short by the military coup that overthrew the Allende regime, as an example of the kind of computational use he says is needed.

He points out a serious issue: that there is a lot of variety attenuation going on to match the capability of the human brain, but that we have no control over the forms of attenuation. Education is one form, often enforcing the “right” answer, attenuating the student’s creativity. Publishing is another, with the editor providing the attenuation. Beer suggests an alternative to these: personalised education via the computer, and personalised computerised search of recorded information.

These lectures were given 50 years ago. How well have they stood the test of time? Well, civilisation hasn’t collapsed, contrary to Beer’s prediction. Maybe this is because his ideas for personalised education and search have been realised: the Internet and search engines have made vast quantities of information available at the click of a few keys, allowing self-education. Unfortunately, he was too optimistic: these technologies have also enabled the self-publication of, and self-education from, “information” by flat earthers, creationists, anti-vaxxers, science denialists, and full-blown conspiracy theorists. So, things have got a lot better, and also a lot worse, in the intervening half century. I find myself reminded of Ada Palmer’s discussion of the “Ever-So-Much-More-So” powder, which increases the intensity of everything, good and bad alike: “Sprinkle it on the Middle Ages and you get the Renaissance”. The Internet is today’s Ever-So-Much-More-So powder, sprinkled on civilisation.

Despite its age, this book is an excellent introduction to the ideas of management cybernetics, and requisite variety, and how variety may be attenuated and increased beneficially. Well worth the read, even 50 years later.




For all my book reviews, see my main website.

Saturday 16 December 2023

traditional tree

We got our Christmas tree a little earlier than last year, so we had more choice, and could get a somewhat bushier one.





Wednesday 13 December 2023

signs of the times

Christmas cards have started arriving. There are two obvious changes in the stamps.


First is the barcodes.  I used to collect stamps as a child, and remember looking carefully at the phosphor bands on them, used so that the sorting machines could tell the difference between first and second class stamps.  Barcodes are the 21st century version of making life easier for machines.


Second is a new head.  For my entire life, the only time I have seen a UK stamp with a head other than the queen's was while looking in my stamp album, or at antique postcards and letters.  So when I saw the first new king's head stamp, I had a weird flashback to this period.



Monday 11 December 2023

my first root canal

I used to have an NHS dentist.  I last went to them during Covid, for an emergency repair of a broken filling.  This May, I realised I hadn’t been since then, so I phoned up to make an appointment, as I have been doing for the last two decades.  “You’ve been deregistered”.  “Why?!?” “Because you haven’t come for a while.” “But, but, you were closed for Covid, and never said when you reopened.” “Tough, you should have called earlier.” (I paraphrase, but not much.)

The next nearest dentist taking NHS patients was over 70 miles, or two counties, away.  So, after much grumbling about the government's failure to fund the NHS dentistry service properly (or basically, at all), I reluctantly had to go private.  At least this gave me the opportunity to find one closer to home than before. 

The first dentist I tried wasn’t taking new patients, even private ones. The second was, so I registered in May, yet the first appointment I could get for a check-up was in August.  (Well, to be fair, I could have had one in July, but I was travelling a lot for conference season then.)  At the check-up, it was noted I needed a couple of fillings replacing: they had been giving me some mild discomfort, which is what reminded me I was due a check-up in the first place.  The next appointment available was October, at which point I was told one of the fillings being replaced was quite deep, and might not “take”. Sure enough, it never really settled, and a month later it started actively hurting. I got an emergency appointment (after sitting on hold for ages, listening to adverts about how convenient it was to go private, because you could get appointments whenever you needed).  An X-ray revealed that root canal was needed.  The earliest appointment available with the root canal specialist: 3 weeks.

So, lots of ibuprofen later, today was root canal day.  Now, I've only ever heard of this process used as a metaphor for something extremely unpleasant, so I was a little concerned.  The NHS website helpfully says Root canal treatment is not painful, which was mildly reassuring, however.

The NHS website is correct.  The procedure was less painful (although considerably longer) than the original filling that was done in October.  I do have to wait with a rough tooth surface until a crown can be fixed, in February.  This time, though, the wait is deliberate, it to let things “settle”.

So, why does root canal have this scary reputation?  I suspect what has happened is that dentistry technology has just improved drastically since I was young.  I was already aware that fillings are nothing like as traumatic as they used to be.  In particular, anaesthetics are faster to take (essentially instant; no sitting in the waiting room for 20 minutes until fully numb, or not quite as numb as it needs to be), and faster to wear off (about an hour after the procedure is over, rather than the rest of the day).  And the fillings themselves set faster and better: I was told not to eat on the tooth, or drink anything hot, for an hour, and that was only because I might bite or burn myself while numb; no more waiting a couple of days for things to set properly.  I have been told not to bite on hard or crunchy food on the tooth until it has been crowned, though, which seems fair enough.  The most painful part was the cost: an order of magnitude more expensive than on the NHS.

So, hugely better technology over the years. And hugely inferior access.



Saturday 9 December 2023

sequestering carbon, several books at a time CXXXV

 The latest, pre-Christmas, batch:


A third Checquy book!  I didn't know there was another one. Yay!

Sunday 26 November 2023

review: Being You

Anil K. Seth.
Being You: a new science of consciousness.
Faber and Faber. 2021


I confess that I have a problem with the problem of consciousness: most descriptions implicitly assume that consciousness itself is a well-defined concept. But I’ve never really come across a precise definition that could be a satisfactory starting point for examining it. Wikipedia starts off with “awareness of internal and external existence”; okay, but what is “awareness” in this context? Many definitions assume it is a human property, which begs the question of possible animal consciousness. And so on.

In this book on state of the art studies of consciousness, Seth also doesn’t give a precise definition. He is tackling the issue from a somewhat different direct, and describes consciousness as “something that it is like to be you”. Then we can allow for the possibility of animal consciousness: there might be something it is like to be a dog, or a bat, or a mouse, or an octopus, but presumably there is nothing it is like to be a rock, or a river, or a car. Is there something it is like to be a tree, or a carrot, or a bacterium? Could there be something it is like to be a robot?

I’m still struggling, though: I’m not really sure what it specifically is like to be me, because I’ve never been anything else, so have nothing to compare it with. Maybe I should just go with “something that it is like to be”?

Lack or precise definitions aside, this is an excellent and thought-provoking book. Seth links consciousness to sensing and acting in the world, at many different levels. Essentially, the brain “hallucinates” different possibilities of what is happening, and uses what we sense to choose the best possibility, which can change as we get more sensory input (such as from the world changing, or from us changing things in the world, including our own position in it). This is accompanied by descriptions of a variety of interesting experiments, and leads to possible criteria for detecting consciousness in patients in comas.

There is lots of great detail here to back up the various claims, and the model explains senses, actions, emotions, and more. Seth uses this model to argue that machines (robots, computers) can never be conscious, that only “wet” organisms have the essential grounded linkages between their hallucinations, senses, and bodily processes, to be fully conscious. I’m not sure I agree with this conclusion, but it is certainly food for thought.





For all my book reviews, see my main website.

Tuesday 21 November 2023

levelled up


100,000 miles isn't bad.  However, it's put to shame by some friends of mine who only got rid of their car with over 250,000 miles on the clock because someone ran into it, making it an insurance write-off.

Friday 17 November 2023

soon

Just about to set off for home.  The car will pass a mileage milestone soon.



Saturday 11 November 2023

sequestering carbon, several books at a time CXXXIV

 The latest batch:


The Systems Engineering book is a bit weird.  On the spine it says "Blanchard et al", implying at least two more authors; on the front cover it says "Blanchard Fabrycky", which sounds like a single author.  It's actually by Benjamin S. Blanchard and Wolter J. Fabrycky, who are multiply credited in the table of contents as the authors of every individual chapter (so, 25 times).


Sunday 29 October 2023

uninterrupted

At home, we have sufficiently frequent (several times a year) micro power cuts (lasting only a few seconds) to be irritating: the computers all crash, and when they turn back on, there are lots of little passive-aggressive complaints about having been switched off incorrectly, and not to do it again, naughty, naughty.

So the latest toy is a UPS, now set up and sitting behind my desk:


It has six sockets on the UPS part (used by my computer and screens, and bits of the network), and two sockets that are just surge protected (scanner and a Raspberry Pi).  It's essentially a lead acid battery, hence sat on a piece of wood rather than directly on the floor, just in case.

We tested it by switching off its mains connection: my system and the network kept running.  The monitoring software claims the battery has about half an hour of capacity; moreover, it will shut the computer down properly if that is needed.

So we'll probably never have another power cut.  But that means it's working one way or the other!



Saturday 28 October 2023

home from Hanover

The NNPC conference was a delight: great invited speakers, great contributed talks, great poster discussions (and I'm not just saying that because I was one of the organisers: all the contributors did a fantastic job).  I learned a lot.  I'm looking forward to the next one; hopefully it will be sooner than 5 years next time!

The conference catering was good, too.  A constant flow of tea and coffee, accompanied by fantastic little hazelnut biscuits (each small biscuit had four or five whole hazelnuts!), and rhubarb fruit juice.  Many of us tentatively tried the latter, then agreed we rather liked it: not overly sweetened, but sweet enough to be a refreshing drink.

The lunches and dinners were all vegetarian, as provided by the sponsors.  This was all very flavoursome, but lacked a certain something.  After the conference finished yesterday afternoon, a colleague and I went out for a steak dinner.

This morning I rolled up to the train station to catch the 7am train to the airport.  On the departure board, in the space reserved for the platform number, were three surprisingly short German words.  I typed these in to Google translate.  "Train is cancelled".  Oh dear, but I had allowed enough time to be able to get the next train if necessary.  I went to the information desk.  The woman there tapped at a keyboard, then told me the next train to the airport was in half an hour.  I don't know what made me check further, but I asked if that one was running.  More keyboard tapping.  A lot more keyboard tapping.  Then she said, oh, the next train that is running is the 8am one.  That would have left very little time before boarding, which I wasn't willing to risk.  I asked if there was another way to the airport.  Yes, I could catch a different train, change to a bus, then change to a further train.  I looked at her, she looked at me, and then she said, but a taxi would probably be easier.  I agreed.  Fortunately, I was travelling with another colleague from the conference, so we shared a taxi, and ended up at the airport earlier than we would have got there by the original 7am train.  Time for a leisurely breakfast of coffee and warm cinnamon bun.

The flight was fine.  The train journey from Heathrow to home metamorphosed into a bus journey for part of the way, due to weekend engineering works, which made the trip a little longer than it should have been: about eight and a half hours door-to-door, for an approximately 560 mile journey.  Considerably better progress than the seven hours for what should have been a 180 mile journey last Saturday.

  

Tuesday 24 October 2023

view from a hotel window

I flew in to Hanover today, for NNPC 2023, the second international conference on Neuromorphic, Natural and Physical Computing.  The first conference, which had a different name but the same concept and venue, was back in December 2018.  (There wasn't supposed to be a five-year gap between them, but the one initially planned for 2020 never happened; I wonder why?)

This time I am in a more central hotel, directly opposite the rail station.

all the windows have boxes of these little pink flowers; I think they are Calluna

What's with the small duvets?  I've seen this style before.

I asked colleagues about this at the welcome social event this evening.  Apparently, in Germany each person gets their own single duvet, even with a double bed.  And if there's only one of you, you still get a single duvet.  Warm and fluffy, with icy draughts round the edges.  

The conference starts tomorrow at 9am, and I'm looking forward to it.  But first, to bed. I've anchored one side of the duvet with the large pillows. Let's see if it stays put.


Sunday 22 October 2023

hot compost

We've been composting all our garden waste, plus most of our food waste.  But not cooked food waste.  We don't have much of that, but there are always things like trimmed fat, fish skins, and the odd over-catered potato that shouldn't be put in ordinary compost, lest it attract rats.  We've always been a bit annoyed at having to wrap this up and put it in the "green recycling bin": couldn't we recycle it ourselves?

So recently we bought a "hot bin".  This is essentially a big polystyrene box that keeps the heat in, allowing a high enough temperature that cooked food can be composted.  To install it, we needed to move the old kitchen waste compost bin (garden waste has it own complex of three large bins elsewhere.)  Interesting, we had been filling, but not emptying, this bin for 10 years.  When we tipped it up, a glorious brick of very dense, very black, very fine compost slid out from it; not quite coal, but close!

The hot bin needs more care than the standard compost bins, in order to maintain a sufficiently high temperature, and a proper mix of materials.  Today it was full enough, and composted enough, that we could remove some of its contents.

the hot bin, with the output door opened, sited next to the old kitchen waste compost bin
 (right) and a small green waste top-up bin (left)

close up of the yummy compost

So now, even less stuff to put out for council recycling.


Saturday 21 October 2023

travel in the time of Storm Babet

Storm Babet hit the UK and other parts of northern Europe this week.  I was due to travel by train from York to Ely yesterday (Friday), a journey I've done many times, scheduled to take just over two and a half hours.  I wasn't optimistic, given the news, but my phone app said my 4pm train was "on time".  Hmm, maybe not as bad as being suggested?  I arrived at York rail station.  Nothing going south.  I enquired about the departure board, which was also saying "on time".  Apparently that's set somewhere else, and the station has no control over what it says, and those who do ... hadn't updated it.  The very helpful LNER rep suggested I try again tomorrow.  So I left the station.

This morning, I arrived at York rail station.  Nothing going south.  But I had a plan, and a whole day to execute it.  I got on a train to Manchester Victoria (which was packed), then walked from there to Manchester Piccadilly, where I got on a train to London Euston (also packed).  On that trip, at one point looking out the window, I thought: "It's not too bad; that river doesn't look very high. Oh.  It's a road."

From Euston I walked to Kings Cross, to find the station shut, with a huge crowd milling about inside.  A crowd started growing outside as we waited for the doors to open.  The doors did not open, even after the crowd inside had dwindled.  I was wondering if I should try going to Liverpool Street instead.  But then, someone discovered there was an open door around the side, so we all flowed round to that one.  I got into the concourse area just as the train to Ely departed.  

So I got on the next train to Cambridge (reasonably full), and there got a train to Ely (empty).  Finally. 

The train to Ely wants me to "text British"?  As opposed to texting foreign?  A bit peculiar!  Oh, the next screen starts "Transport Police..."

I had my ticket checked a few times along this route, on trains, and at gates.  I'm not sure what the point was, given I was not only on the wrong train going to the wrong station, I was travelling on the wrong day.  None of the people doing the checking batted an eye at this.  Maybe they were just checking I had a ticket?

Four trains, 7 stations, 7 hours start to finish.  But I made it.




Saturday 7 October 2023

review: The Order of Time

Carlo Rovelli.
The Order of Time.
Penguin. 2017


In his previous book, Reality Is Not What It Seems, Rovelli emphasises the need to remove the Newtonian model of a separately existing time from physical theories. In this new similarly slim and equally lucid volume, he delves deeper into what is this time thing, anyway.

He carefully picks apart the many different models of time in physics. Newtonian time has been replaced by many different models of time, all of which remove one or more ‘obvious’ properties. Special relativistic time depends on your speed, and asking what is now somewhere else “is like asking ‘What is here, in Peking?’”[p.37]: the present is defined just in a local bubble whose size depends on our precision. General relativistic time depends on the curvature of space, and so is different everywhere, and things fall because “the movement of things inclines to where time passes more slowly” [p.12]. Thermodynamics is the only basic physical theory that has an ‘arrow’ of time, of entropy increase, the existence of which depends on your scale; that “entropy exists because we describe the world in a blurred fashion”, and if we “observe the microscopic state of things the difference between past and future vanishes” [p.30]. Quantum mechanical (space)time is not continuous, but granular, as is everything else, and different times can coexist in superpositions.

Rovelli provides an interesting historical perspective on our current everyday intuitions of it being the same time in different places, and time always passing at the same speed: we didn’t always have these ideas. Clocks didn’t start started regulating our hours until around the 14th century. But these clocks were synchronised to local noon, not to each other. Then train timetables in the 19th century required synchronisation across distances. Time zones were invented in 1883, and cities gradually synchronised their clocks with each other. Then, in 1905, Einstein destroyed the idea of universal synchronicity. (I had known Einstein worked in a patent office; I was not aware he dealt specifically with patents related to synchonising clocks!) So, ironically:

[p56] only a few years passed between the moment at which we agreed to synchronize clocks and the moment at which Einstein realized that it was impossible to do so exactly.

Another interesting historical perspective: today we are accustomed to the idea the Newton’s view of an independently flowing absolute time, and think that Leibniz was some maverick suggesting relational time, of time being change. But actually, this view of time being dependent on change was the orthodox Aristotelian view, and it was Newton who was the maverick. We are just nowadays more used to the Newtonian view. Einstein synthesised the Aristotelian and Newtonian views: yes, spacetime is something real, yet it is relative, not absolute. And its reality is like other kinds of things that are real:

[p67] Spacetime is the gravitational field – and vice versa. It is something that exists by itself, as Newton intuited, even without matter. But it is not an entity that is different from the other things in the world – as Newton believed – is a field like the others. More than a drawing on a canvas, the world is like a superimposition of canvases, of strata, where the gravitational field is only one among others. Just like the others, it is neither absolute nor uniform, not is it fixed: it flexes, stretches and jostles with the others, pushing and pulling against them. Equations describe the reciprocal influences that all the fields have on each other, and spacetime is one of these fields.

Having spent the first part of the book bringing us up to date with current physics, Rovelli moves into more a speculative realm, a different view of time in terms of change. This is heady stuff. We should think of the world as a network of events, and “the simple fact that nothing is: that things happen instead” [p.85]. In this world there is no time as we currently understand it; instead it is

[p86] a world in which change is ubiquitous, without being ordered by Father Time; without innumerable events being necessarily distributed in good order, or along the single Newtonian timeline, or according to Einstein’s elegant geometry.

This gives a different perspective of what the world is made of:

[p86-7] We can think of the world as made up of things. Of substances. Of entities. Of something that is. Or we can think of it as made up of events. Of happenings. Of processes. Of something that occurs. Something that does not last, and that undergoes continual transformation, that is not permanent in time. The destruction of the notion of time in fundamental physics is the crumbling of the first of these two perspectives, not of the second. It is the realization of the ubiquity of impermanence, not of stasis in a motionless time.

In terms of events and processes, things are just (possible very) long-lived events: “‘Things’ in themselves are only events that for a while are monotonous.” [p.92]

Rovelli explains how some of the problems we have with this new physics is down to grammar: the human languages we use to talk about the world, with their simple past, present and future tenses, do not fit well with our current view of a more complex structure to physical time. But just because natural language, developed before we knew about this complexity, can’t cope, doesn’t mean our physical models are wrong: we just have to work harder.

Rovelli concludes his discussion with some thoughts on the origins of time: how it might emerge from the underlying granular, complex structure of spacetime events; from a particular blurring (ignorance) of macroscopic state; from non-commutative quantum operations imposing a natural (partial) order; from the fact that we have a point of view observing the universe while situated within it.

This is a beautifully written book, explaining complex concepts with great clarity and style. It is a translation. There is an amusing translation error on p193, which talks of “a degree of liberty”: after a moment of thought, I decided that this should be “a degree of freedom”. Despite the book’s slimness, there is a great deal to think about here; I have merely scraped the surface in my summary above. It is a wonderfully rich concoction of deep ideas and lucid explanation. Recommended.




For all my book reviews, see my main website.


Sunday 1 October 2023

box woes, northern edition

We had an infestation of box-tree moths in our garden near Cambridge.  But they have moved even further north.  When I arrived in York this evening, here's what I saw on (the outside of) my window:

has the recent warm weather let them move into the not-so-frozen north?


Monday 25 September 2023

the age of the tree

We have a couple of fastigiate hornbeams in the garden, planted about 20 years ago.  We've had them trimmed a few times, but they had got rather large again.  Since we are planning on get some more solar panels, to go on the garage roof right next to them, we got them severely trimmed so they wouldn't cast shadows.  This involved "trimming" some quite large branches, and we realised we could see the tree rings!

so yes, it's about 20 years old...



Friday 22 September 2023

Covid-19 diary: booster 2023

I had my Covid autumn booster and my flu jab today.  My GP surgery is no longer doing the jabs, so I had to drive to a pharmacy in the next town to get it.  I had booked the Covid jab via the NHS website, and when I arrived at the pharmacy for it, they asked if I wanted a flu jab as well.  Yes please!

As before, Covid jab in left arm, flu in right.

Superpowers, engage!



Saturday 9 September 2023

box woes

We have quite a lot of box hedging in our garden, and are dreading the day box blight afflicts us.  Last week we noticed lots of bare patches, and thought it had finally arrived.  But on closer inspection it didn't look like blight.

That's not blight.  It's been munched!  Even closer inspection revealed caterpillars...

Some googling suggested these might be due to invasive box-tree moth caterpillars.  Further googling suggested a pheromone trap might help if that was the case.  Off to buy a pheromone trap...

After hanging it in the garden for only a couple of days, the diagnosis was confirmed:

my god, it's full of moths!

Hopefully that's stopped any further caterpillars this year.  If we hang it out next spring, we should be able to stop a recurrence.  And the box has grown back a bit.  So that's all good.  Until the box blight eventually hits...




Saturday 19 August 2023

review: Or What You Will

Jo Walton.
Or What You Will.
Tor. 2020


Sylvia is a renowned fantasy author, coming to the end of her life. This is a problem for her muse, who doesn’t want to die with her. He has a cunning plan.

This is simply amazing. It is wonderfully imaginative, very meta, and deeply moving. Each of the worlds is fully realised: Walton’s love affair with Italy is evident, and the weaving together of various Shakespearean characters in their lives after the plays and Sylvia’s subsequent tales, is fascinating. In particular, the consequences of Sylvia’s authorial choices about immortality and change play out in complex and satisfying ways.

Walton just gets better and better. Highly recommended.




For all my book reviews, see my main website.


Saturday 12 August 2023

Anglesey Abbey

We went with some friends to visit Anglesey Abbey.  We met up for lunch in the nice cafe, then set off to look round the house.  The house itself is rather fine.

Although actually old, it was occupied up until the middle of the 20th century, when it was left to the National Trust.  The interior is a mix of the old and the (relatively) new.  The library is particularly fine.

The Library, with about 6000 bound books

One of our friends who knows we have a lot of books, but not quite how many, jokingly asked how our collection compared.  He was somewhat startled when we said we had about two and a half times as many as this.  But not all in one room, of course!

A close-up of the central shelves above, showing the curious uniform binding of different height books, under a wibbly-wobbly paper dust cover.

Once we'd finished with the house (and its surprising number of moonscape paintings), we went to walk round the gardens.  There were a variety of styles.

formal garden with statues and triffids

woodland walk: the contrast of all the silver bark against the dark hedge was stunning

more science fictional vegetation

Then we rounded off the day with another trip to the cafe, and a cream scone tea.  An enjoyable excursion.




Sunday 30 July 2023

atypical Kings Cross

My flight back from Japan landed at Heathrow at 6:30am, and my luggage was off very quickly.  Because I was in no rush, everything was very efficient, and I found myself at Kings Cross station at 7:50am, with over an hour to kill until the first train home.  Time for breakfast!

At 7:50 on a Sunday morning, Kings Cross is spookily deserted:

I don't think I've ever seen the concourse floor before...

Even Platform 9¾ was virtually empty:


Everything was back to the normal organised chaos by the time my train arrived, though.



Saturday 29 July 2023

Nakajima Park

My flight home today is a late evening one, so I had most of the day to kill first.  I had a look at a map, and decided to visit Nakajima Park, a few stops south on the metro from my hotel.

One reason I chose the park is the map showed it contains Sapporo City Observatory.

Aha! I spied an open door!  I walked up to it, and yes, it was open for viewing.  Not only that, but the telescope was configured to see the sun.  A Japanese gentleman welcomed me in, and indicated I should take a look.  It was a great view of a quite spotty sun.  Then he pointed to another eyepiece.  This had another filter enabling me to see several prominences.  Once he realised I knew what I was looking at, we had a nice little conversation about the telescope and some pictures on the wall taken with it.

After that pleasant interlude I continued my walk around the park.  There were many good views across the lake.


And there were more formal garden arrangements.

this must look magnificent when the wisteria is in bloom

It was very hot, so I found an ice cream place, and sat enjoying it, while being regales with 1970s pop music.  Then, of course, I needed to find a public convenience.  I had discovered there are two styles: the over-the-top luxurious loos with heated seats and built in everything, and the holes in the ground.  The park had only the more primitive option.

the romance of travel

Then it was time for lunch, then back to the hotel to talk about neuromorphic computing with another colleague over iced coffee.

Ready to fly home tonight.



Thursday 27 July 2023

Sapporo Art Park

The ALife conference is great!  I'm really enjoying the workshops, the presentations, and catching up with colleagues who I haven't seen in person since 2019.  (I'm not enjoying the heat so much, though.)

Today we got a break from the hard work, with an excursion to the Sapporo Art Park.  There were lots of things to view, but I (and many of my colleagues) spent quite a while in the interactive "Animals of Flowers" room.

Here, wriggling lizards and geckos and flowers and snakes and more were projected on to the walls and floor.  If you stamped on one, it emitted a load of flowers.

a projected critter

What I didn't realise at first, until I saw some surprising creatures, was that this was truly interactive: there were pieces of paper with outlines of the critters that you could colour in, give to a staff member to be scanned in, then watch your design come to life!

seems I'm not the only one who went to GECCO and ALife back to back!

It was surprisingly engaging: I found myself grinning widely at all the critters moving around and the exploding flowers.

They had closed the ice cream stall just before we left the installation.  Oh well.

Then it was off to the conference dinner and awards ceremony.




Sunday 23 July 2023

view from a hotel window

Another day, another hotel in another country.  I barely had 36 hours at home after getting back from the GECCO conference in Lisbon, before leaving to travel to the Artificial Life conference in Sapporo, Japan.  I thought long and hard about whether this was a sensible thing to do, but I really really wanted to go to ALife: it's one of my favourites, and it hasn't been held in person since 2019.  So here I am, having arrived late last night, with a day off to recover from the 17 hours of flight (having to fly the long way keeping south to avoid flying over Russia; and with a change in Tokyo).

the hotel room, while about the same price as the one in Lisbon, is about a quarter the size

A colleague and I decided to find where the conference venue was, ready for the start tomorrow.  (This conference does not run over a weekend!)  It's a short walk form the hotel to the campus, which has a museum and cafe.  So we visited the museum too (and, obviously, the cafe).

This large mural tells the stories of some field trips to gather specimens.  These people were clearly bonkers.


The mural had an English translation, as did several of the exhibits, but not all.  So it wasn't often clear what the significance of some exhibits was.  That just added to the interest.

only just fits!

I'm looking forward to the conference starting tomorrow.



Saturday 15 July 2023

view from a hotel window

I took the train down from Porto to Lisbon last night.  Having managed to avoid all the train strikes in the UK so far, I fell foul of one in Portugal, and the train I had booked wasn't running.  My hosts went online to book me on a later one that was running (so I had more time with them: great!)  They very worriedly said they could only get me a first class ticket, however.  I asked how much it would be. 33 Euros. For a three-hour journey most of the length of the country.  I nearly fell off my chair laughing.  I reassured them that would be fine.

Because I arrived late, it was too dark to take the traditional photo from the window, so here it is from this morning:

I'm here in Lisbon at The Genetic and Evolutionary Computation Conference, GECCO 2023, as I'm co-chair of the Complex Systems track.

At registration, I got the usual bits of paper, plus a nice conference bag.  However, I am using a bag I got at an earlier GECCO conference:

the tote bag I got at GECCO 2003, Chicago

Today (yes, the conference runs Saturday to Wednesday) I went to great tutorials on Quality-Diversity Optimisation and on Lexicase Selection, plus a couple of interesting workshops.  It's been a great start to what promises to be a very interesting conference.


Wednesday 12 July 2023

Porto bookshop and station

I'm visiting some friends near Porto, Portugal for a couple of days before going down to Lisbon for a conference.  They came to pick me up from the airport, so we could do a bit of tourism before going to their place.

First lunch, then a walk around a park, with great views.

a view over the river

Then to a famous bookshop (they know me so well), the Livraria Lello.  It is such a tourist attraction that you have to buy a ticket to go in!  I bought a book about the bookshop.

the staircase at the Livraria Lello; the place was packed

Then afternoon tea, a bit more walking around, then off to the train station with its amazing tiles.


A short train ride later, and a short walk, we arrive at their place.  They have a fantastic view over the sea:


Then dinner and lots of good conversation.





Sunday 9 July 2023

review: Project Hail Mary

Andy Weir.
Project Hail Mary.
Penguin. 2021

Ryland Grace wakes up in a spaceship. He’s lost his memory. He doesn’t know who he is, where he is, or why he’s there. The fate of the entire planet Earth hangs on him completing his mission. But he doesn’t know what the mission is, or even that there is one.

This is The Martian on steroids. The problem to solve is bigger, less understood, and more important. The setting is more claustrophobic. The setbacks are more catastrophic. The revelations as he slowly regains his memory are shattering. And the resolution is more emotional.

Great stuff.





For all my book reviews, see my main website.

Saturday 8 July 2023

review: A Memory Called Empire

Arkady Martine.
A Memory Called Empire.
Tor. 2019

Mahit Dazur has admired and studied the Teixcalaanli Empire all her life, so when she is posted as Ambassador to its capital planet, this should have been a dream come true. But her predecessor appears to have been up to his neck in possibly treasonous politics that led to his murder, everyone else is playing different dangerous games, her technological backup has been sabotaged, the Emperor is dying, a war is brewing, and her poetry is just not up to scratch. She is swept up in events, and needs all her wits to save herself and her homeland; fortunately, she is well endowed with those.

This is gorgeous. We suffer culture shock and alienation along with Mahit, as we gradually discover what is going on. The Aztec-like names and Chinese-style poetry games add an exotic feel, mixed as they are with AIs, brain implants, and hints of alien invasions. The action takes place over only a handful of days, and much of that action occurs through conversations; the descriptions are rich and detailed and never dull; the contrast between Mahit’s acid internal monologues and what she says out loud are beautiful.

I enjoyed this tremendously. Highly recommended.




For all my book reviews, see my main website.