The latest batch
Saturday, 25 October 2025
Tuesday, 10 June 2025
Why does it cry and resist before it is hurt?
I came across this recently:
Unjust laws exist: shall we be content to obey them, or shall we endeavor to amend them, and obey them until we have succeeded, or shall we transgress them at once? Men generally, under such a government as this, think that they ought to wait until they have persuaded the majority to alter them. They think that, if they should resist, the remedy would be worse than the evil. But it is the fault of the government itself that the remedy is worse than the evil. It makes it worse. Why is it not more apt to anticipate and provide for reform? Why does it not cherish its wise minority? Why does it cry and resist before it is hurt? Why does it not encourage its citizens to be on the alert to point out its faults, and do better than it would have them? Why does it always crucify Christ, and excommunicate Copernicus and Luther, and pronounce Washington and Franklin rebels?
— Henry David Thoreau (1849) Civil Disobedience, p367
Saturday, 7 June 2025
Monday, 23 December 2024
sequestering carbon, several books at a time CXLVII
The latest batch before the Christmas presents drop (which means I'm up-to-date on databasing, for a day or so at least!):
Saturday, 23 November 2024
book review: What are Universities For?
Stefan Collini. What are Universities For?
Penguin. 2012
This book may be over a decade old, and some of the essays included even older, but it is more relevant today than ever. The first half is a thoughtful discussion of the history and purpose of universities in general. This is followed by a series of reprinted essays, dissecting various governmental initiatives in higher education.
The historical overview of the role, size and funding of universities from their inception is fascinating. My personal experience is confined to being a student in the late 70s and early 80s, and an academic during the 2000s. Collini points out most people tend to think that universities had always been the way they experienced them as a student, and only changed since then. But of course, they have always been changing. I am myself guilty of this view! My seven year tenure as a student was during the time of no fees and full grant (and fewer students and universities overall): so no student debt, and only vacation-time jobs. I would almost certainly not have gone to university under the current scheme, as getting into any debt, let alone that much, would have been too terrifying. I feel very lucky, but not guilty: I have certainly since paid enough in taxes from good jobs to cover the costs! I do think that current students should be similarly lucky, particularly as the number of good jobs has not kept pace with the increase in student numbers. (Even jobs that in the past would have required A-levels now seem to require not just a Bachelors, but even a Masters degree: surely they are not that much more complex? I often wonder if this degree-inflation is deliberately used to force people to go to university and get into debt, so making them more willing to take rubbish jobs, or if it is merely an unanticipated side-effect benefical to corporations and governments.)
Collini has a wide ranging and thoughtful discussion of what universities should be for. What should students be taught? How should they be educated? And why? He comes from the Humanities, which some argue are not “useful” subjects, because they do not contribute directly to the economic health of the country. I’m a scientist, and he thinks the arguments for these subjects are easier there. They may be easier, but I think that makes them more damaging, as it tends to encourage a focus on the economic, rather than educational or intellectual, benefits: graduate employability, rather than better, more thoughtful, well-rounded citizens. (If it’s just about job-specific skills, why not raise the status of apprenticeships instead?) Caving to that economic focus can unintentionally strengthen the argument against the humanities.
In particular, Collini’s point is that at university, the student should “study”, rather than be taught, or learn, a subject. This perspective puts the onus on the student to do the work, in depth, and not be a mere passive recipient of whatever the lecturer deems important, merely regurgitating it for assessment. The current insistence on increased “contact hours” (rather than private study) and ever-increasingly detailed assessment encourages this attitude of regurgitation, which helps parrots, but not growth. We are now encouraged to treat students as “customers”, where they pay a fee for the product of a degree certificate. Many students will focus on the certificate outcome, not the process they need to go through to get it. Rather than certificate seller, I prefer the metaphor of “personal trainer”: the lecturers are providing opportunities, resources, and direction, but the student has to do the (sometimes painful) work to achieve the desired goal. No-one goes to a gym to get a certificate (maybe some do? I’ve never been to a gym!), but rather to achieve fitness, understanding that this will require effort on their part.
After this excellent review of the state of universities, and their goals, Collini fills the rest of the book with reprints of earlier articles, which eviscerate various government schemes to measure the “quality” of universities’ performance. These essays are also excellent, and pull no punches. Collini argues that we should not measure (rigid metrics designed by unqualified beancounters), but rather judge (thoughtful analysis by qualified peers), performance.
There is a lot more excellent, thoughtful (and very well-written) material here. I have just pulled out a few points that resonate most strongly with me. Read this, and have good arguments to support universities beyond mere economic gain.
Sunday, 10 November 2024
sequestering carbon, several books at a time CXLIII
Our Edinburgh bookshops purchases: (yes, I am very behind in databasing new books, but hoping to catch up soon!)
Amusingly, on that one morning we bought two different books, in two different bookshops, by two different Daniel Chandlers. Neither appears to have a disambiguating middle name.
Monday, 25 December 2023
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.
Tuesday, 11 July 2023
Sunday, 30 January 2022
book review: The Cunning of Uncertainty
[p.98] The term [revolution] points to events by overthrowing the old order and ushering in a new order with the promise of a better life for the hitherto disadvantaged. In science, revolution usually means a new scientific way of seeing the world, undermining certainties that are taken for granted and opening exciting paths for more and better understanding that comes from manipulation and intervention.
[p.143] Should we worry at all? Yes, we should. Worrying is not the luxurious privilege of the global elites or some intellectuals, nor is it reserved for scientists working at the cutting edge. It is yet another cunning move of uncertainty to nudge us into pondering what might happen if warning signals continue to be disregarded and latent, largely invisible and subterranean processes are ignored. Science can help detect the warning signals, but so can the sensors of the life world. Together, they tell us about the processes that are the gradual carriers of risks. They warn us not to let complacency win the day. And not to mistake what looks seductive and beautiful for goodness just because it can be seen and heard, even if it is presented to us as a gift – if not by the gods, then by those who want us to believe that they can master complexity.
[p.165] the possible, this vast potential of promises laced with visionary fantasies and a knack for new business opportunities, begins to crowd out the actual. The reach of social networks has extended beyond imagination, yet imagined connections also continue to expand. Instant delivery and the seemingly effortless achievable abundance of technological gadgets privilege immediacy […]. When the sheer abundance of choices promotes arbitrariness as a default mode, the sense of timing is lost. When decisions are taken on a whim, kairos turns into a lottery. When anything seems possible, the actual becomes residual.
For all my book reviews, see my main website.
Sunday, 13 June 2021
book review: Doughnut Economics
Doughnut Economics: seven ways to think like a 21st-century economist.
Penguin. 2017
Modern economics is clearly not fit for purpose. It is based on false axioms like unbounded rationality, and individual optimisation. It is too narrow a model, not including many important and linked systems, like the family, the state, and the biosphere. It requires continual exponential growth, which is physically impossible, and is destroying the planet. And its predictions have been repeatedly falsified, from repeated financial crashes to ever-increasing wealth inequalities. So what to do?
Raworth lays out a plan for a better economics, based on the visual image of the doughnut. The outer edge represents an upper level of activity, beyond which activity is unsustainable, due to climate change, biodiversity and habitat loss, pollution, etc. And the inner edge represents a baseline activity, below which people cannot thrive: the need for food, water, shelter, healthcare, education, equality, justice, etc. (I would have liked some acknowledgement that it is necessary to demonstrate that the inner edge is indeed inside the outer edge!)
The doughnut forms a useful image to illustrate the goal of the new economics; Raworth then carefully unpicks the requirements to achieve this, identifying seven facets of the new approach. Each chapter digs into a particular facet, such as the goal of economics, the need for systems thinking, the issue of growth, and more. Starting with a brief review of the historical development of the current theories, Raworth shows how they came about, how that often the originators emphasised they were mere approximations or idealisations, yet that they have subsequently come to be been set in stone. This background serves to demonstrate that changing the models is not somehow going counter to some established truth, but is rather correcting old fundamental errors. So next Raworth outlines how to correct the errors, giving a new model and new requirements. And just when each chapter gets to the point where you are thinking “yes, this is all very well and good, but it would never be possible to make that change”, Raworth gives examples of how that change is already happening in certain (albeit often small and local) cases.
So this is informative, constructive, and hopeful. Everyone should read it, and act on it.
For all my book reviews, see my main website.
Sunday, 23 May 2021
Sunday, 2 May 2021
Sunday, 21 March 2021
Saturday, 23 January 2021
Sunday, 1 November 2020
Thursday, 1 October 2020
Wednesday, 27 May 2020
Covid-19 diary: eye tests
Dominic Cummings has said that he drove to Barnard Castle with his wife and child at the end of his lockdown-busting trip to County Durham in order to test his eyesight before making the long drive home to London.
- Cummings is lying about his reason for his actions
- Cummings is telling the truth about his reasons for his actions
Saturday, 23 May 2020
Friday, 8 May 2020
Covid-19 diary: VE day
The rise of the Nazis is an important lesson of history. It didn’t happen overnight; it was a gradual process. Not everyone subscribed to the ideology, but as its grip strengthened, it became increasingly difficult, and dangerous, to resist.
The lesson is that we should watch out for similar processes happening today, and nip them in the bud. There are currently distressing parallels of the rise of nationalism and fascism around the world, from nationalistic groups arising in European and other countries, including the nationalistic underpinnings of Brexit, to the nibbling away of the rule of law, of checks and balances, in other countries.
Crises can tend to amplify nationalism, as people pull together locally, but apart globally. And necessary measures put in place during crises can be difficult to remove after the crisis has passed (is it really over? better be safe than sorry!)
VE day reminds us of the utter horrors of fascism.
Don’t let Covid-19 help them return through the back door.














