Showing posts with label TED. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TED. Show all posts

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Best of TED: Business

The TED talks that have really stuck with me, really gotten under my skin, that deal with the realm of business:



Dan Pink talks about how to motivate people in jobs that require creativity. The "monetary rewards fail miserably at motivating people to be creative" theme recurs among several talks at TED, including Tom Wujec's analysis of the Marshmallow Challenge:



The Marshmallow Challenge (one of two marshmallow-centered TED talks; not to be confused with the other one) forces people to collaborate constructively in a very tight timeframe, and there are all sorts of interesting lessons to be gleaned from who tends to do well at the challenge and under what circumstances.

Here's my favorite talk that's specifically about marketing and branding:



Simon Sinek makes a lot of sense. Still, it's hard not to be cynical about his mention of Apple Computers. "Everything we do, we believe in challenging the status quo." Simon Sinek gave this talk in 2009, I'm writing this in 2011, and while Apple would dearly like to have us believe that they are challenging the status quo, the truth is that for the last few years they have been the status quo.

Finally, Jason Fried's great talk. I've had a lot of fun showing this to Taiwanese office workers. Ordinary office workers generally agree with everything he says. One student of mine, a senior VP at the Taiwan Stock Exchange, found quite a bit to quibble with, but it was great to see he still engaged with the talk fully.



I like Fried's style. Not a single PowerPoint slide, or indeed any visuals whatsoever. I think this talk should be required viewing by everyone in a position of authority at large organizations. You can disagree with points he makes, but at least you'll have to think about his message.

Friday, March 4, 2011

Best of TED: Education

Over the past year or so, I've watched a huge chunk of the online talks at TED.com. Not all of them, but many, and some more than once.

All are worth your time. Many were interesting to watch, but didn't affect me much in the long run. But some lodged themselves in my mind, tenacious, not letting go.

Here are some of the ones that never let go. In this post, I'll look at a few about education.







Sir Ken Robinson gave the above two talks several years apart, but there is one running theme throughout. Think of them as two halves of one talk.

The case he makes that school reform is necessary is, to me, so intuitive, so obvious, that I wish every country's school system could be disassembled, reduced to its component parts, and then rebuilt according to the dictates of Sir Ken and some like-minded friends.

The idea that there are many children who are very bright, very creative, very capable, but don't do well on standardized tests, is an easy one for me to grasp. Because that's basically me, just in reverse. Okay, am I saying I'm not bright? I'm not creative and capable? Not exactly.

But I do seem to have one special talent. One thing that I excel at. One thing that I do really, really, really well. And that is taking standardized tests. Especially the kind where you have to fill in the correct bubble with your #2 pencil. I do great on those.

I don't deserve to.

I wasn't a great student. By that, I don't mean I was a naturally bright kid who found the material really easy to grasp and as a result didn't pay attention to teachers and didn't bother with homework. I know there are lots of kids like that being served badly by their schools, but that wasn't me.

No, I found many classes difficult, including classes I should have found easy. I seem to have a natural aptitude for mathematics, but I crashed and burned in physics and calculus courses. (I blame myself, but that's a whole different story.) I find it absolutely believable that there are many, many kids out there now who are bright and creative and yet struggle horribly on standardized tests.

Also, let's face it: a university education is right for many people, but it's not necessary for everybody, and people who don't have a bachelor's degree are of no less worth than those who do. I'm all for vocational education gaining more respect in society. I'm not good with my hands. I can't build or repair things. I have awe and respect for those who can. Let's get rid of this phony-baloney animosity in our society between university-educated people and so-called blue-collar workers. That time when a whole class of human beings spent their days mindlessly filling slots on an assembly line is over. Okay, in many parts of the world it's not over yet, but it ought to be made over as soon as possible. All human workers ought to have jobs that call for creativity and skill.

Speaking of education, let's talk about math education.




Arthur Benjamin here points out that math education in our schools is organized in a procession that looks something like this: Arithmetic, algebra, geometry, advanced algebra, CALCULUS! All hail calculus! Calculus, the crowning glory of all mathematics!

Yeah, right.

I haven't used what I learned in calculus class since my last day of calculus class. Which is not to knock calculus -- it's incredibly important in many fields -- but it shouldn't be considered basic cultural literacy. Calculus isn't something every adult with a functioning cortex ought to know.

Statistics is.

Don't believe me? We all use statistics in our everyday lives, generally without even realizing it. Our news media constantly bombard us with information presented in the form of statistics, and we're just expected to understand it. Arthur Benjamin has just enough time in his talk to sing the glory of statistics, but he doesn't have time for specifics.

Which brings us to Peter Donnelly's talk.



Statistics. Is. Important. After initially demonstrating that most people don't know much about the subject, he delivers some absolutely devastating evidence for its importance.

And yet I've never taken a statistics course in my life. Oh, I know the difference between 5 percent and 5 percentage points. I understand that if you raise a number by 20%, and then lower it by 20%, you don't have the same number that you started with. And I can read (most) graphs. But I'm still pitifully ignorant. There are plenty of grown-ups out there who know as little as me AND seem to have no intellectual curiosity, who still go out and vote and serve on juries.

If we're going to have a society that presents information statistically, then let's try to get people to understand that information, 'kay?

Monday, March 15, 2010

Lesson with a Needle


Eric Mead's TED talk on the magic of the placebo has spawned some interesting comments. The site's top 3 adjectives to describe it are "Confusing", "Funny", "OK". As I write this, there are still very few comments and every one is a variation on "Huh. That was interesting, but I'm not sure what he's trying to say."

Here's my take on it, written in full ignorance of any comments that came along later that explain Mead's talk.

First, a quick summary. Mead comes out, shows the audience a simple magic trick where he makes it look like he's got a knife stuck to his hand. In reality, as he shows us, he's holding it up with a finger. But people's brains don't notice that not all of his fingers are visible and accounted for; they only see the knife hanging there like magic.

Then he talks a bit about placebos and what he finds fascinating about them. A little blue pill with writing on it is more effective than a plain white pill, even if they're both placebos. And a placebo injection is most effective of all.

So then he repeats his knife trick, with a twist. Instead of a knife, he produces a long needle, which he purportedly sticks through the skin of his forearm. He leaves it hanging there, and removes his other hand, showing that he couldn't be using the same trick that he used for the knife.

Then he shows us the alleged wound, and it looks like he's really pushed the needle through his skin and a bit of flesh, leaving it firmly attached to his arm. (The audience squirms in discomfort.) Then he goes so far as to wriggle it around, producing some realistic-looking "blood." (Several audience members cover their eyes and peek out from between fingers.)

And then -- he doesn't remove the needle, he doesn't show us how it's done like he did with the knife, he just leaves us to think about his message.

Here's what I think his message was:

Why are injections more effective placebos than pills? Because we human beings naturally respond much more strongly to needles and blood than to something innocuous like swallowing a pill. This is a reaction that occurs very deep in our unconscious minds.

Mead demonstrates this through his two magic tricks. The audience applauds politely when he makes the knife stick to his skin. But if he'd ended there, even if he hadn't explained how he did it, it probably wouldn't have stuck in their minds for very long. So he got something to stick to his wrist when it ought to have fallen to the floor. Big whoop. Everybody knows an 8-year-old who can do that.

Compare the audience's reaction when he brings out the needle. Even before we see the "wound", when for all we know it's being held there with his finger, there's already a strong "squick" reaction. Needles and the idea of piercing flesh gets people's hindbrains involved.

And when Mead shows us the "wound" dripping "blood" and never lets on how he did it, he insures that the people in the audience won't forget his performance for a long, long time. (I won't either. I mean, I know it's all a trick, but I thought he sounded somewhat dazed at the very end. Which is just what you'd expect to hear if he really had pierced his arm through with a needle...)

That's his lesson. He doesn't just tell us that our unconscious reacts more strongly when these visceral feelings excite our hindbrains. He tells us and shows us.