Tools of Thought
May 11, 2012
I am famous at home and office for my lack of keyboarding skills. The only “C” grade I received in high school was a summer school course in what was then called “typing.” At Dartmouth I paid a woman who worked at the dining hall to type my college papers. In an early job at the University of Wisconsin I typed the play-by-play of Badger football and basketball games with a clumsy “hunt-and-peck” approach.
Today, with the same lack of style, I pound out dozens of emails daily, hammering the keys like my first manual typewriter required four decades ago.
But for any document of great length or importance, I do as I’ve always done: take up pencil (my software) and legal pad (my hardware). There is no question that, for me, the nature of the equipment I’m using for writing affects the nature of the thinking.
With his eyesight failing late in his life, Freidrich Nietzsche bought his first typewriter, changing from pen and paper to the new technology of the 1800s. According to a 2008 article in Atlantic Monthly by Nichols Carr, a friend wrote to Nietzsche in a letter that, since adapting to the telegraphic style, Nietzsche’s terse prose had become even tighter. To which Nietzsche replied: “You are right, our writing equipment takes part in the forming of our thoughts.”
Which makes one wonder where all today’s tweeting and texting may take us.
Sweating the Small Stuff - #3
June 5, 2018
I’m sure it discouraged some of our state’s high school football coaches to learn that the Representative Council of the Michigan High School Athletic Association did not approve at its May 6-7 meeting what some people refer to as the “enhanced strength of schedule proposal” for determining 256 qualifiers to the MHSAA’s 11-player football playoffs.
There was desire among some Council members to appease those who keep trying to reduce the difficulties that a football tournament causes for regular season scheduling and conference affiliations. Others noted that the proposal, as presented, could cause as much harm to some schools and conferences as it would help others, that it did not solve the scheduling problem but shifted it.
During spirited discussion, some Council members resurrected two ideas that have been rejected previously, such as (1) doubling the playoffs once again (and shortening the regular season to eight games), and (2) coupling a six- or seven-win minimum with the revised strength of schedule criteria. The pros and cons of each idea flowed freely.
And therein is the problem. If one digs down into the details of proposals, both old and new, there are both positive and negative aspects apparent, both intended and unintended consequences likely.
There can be paralysis in analysis; but when we are dealing with more than 600 high school programs and a physically demanding sport with fewer regular-season contests permitted than in any other sport, one cannot be too careful. Eliminating one of just nine regular-season games? Increasing first-round tournament mismatches? Disadvantaging larger schools locked in leagues or areas of the state where smaller schools predominate? These are not minor matters.
And until there are sensible answers, these are not trivial questions.