Safety versus the illusion of safety

In 1755 Benjamin Franklin penned the now well-known quote (which is strangely, often misquoted): “Those who would give up essential Liberty, to purchase a little temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety [capitalization of Liberty and Safety seen in context]”.

Today, like many times before, I flew domestically within the United States, and as such necessarily passed through a TSA checkpoint. As always, it was an interesting experience.

First off, I was selected for my hands to be tested for traces of precursors to explosives. This is the first time that this has ever happened to me, and I was quite curious to see if I’d fail or not. I passed. Why might I have failed? Well, being a graduate student in the sciences, I’m frequently in contact with various laboratory chemicals, and I have a pretty good idea what kind of trace might have been on my hands. Given that, I’m also pretty sure that I should have failed the screening. Might this be a case of trading liberty for safety, or worse yet, the illusion of safety?

I’ve always been aware of the possibility of failing that particular screening before, and from others who it’s happened to, it turns out to not be a very big deal. You get subjected to some additional screening, and so long as nothing is awry and you’re perfectly compliant, you’re sent on your way. You’d never know this from the TSA website, though. Take for example, this post http://blog.tsa.gov/2010/02/what-happens-if-my-hands-alarm-during.html on the TSA’s blog that features the very question being posed here, which is, what happens if I fail? You’ll notice that throughout the entire post, the question is never answered. The question of refusing to be tested is answered, but actually failing? Nope. This is noted in the comments, and of course there hasn’t been any actual reply from the TSA at all.

Next comes the boarding pass and identification check. This is completely unremarkable, other than the fact that depending on the airport you’re flying out of, some will ask you questions such as your name (and other questions in other airports) every single time, obviously as part of the screening process. At certain airports, however no questions are ever asked. Why isn’t this standardized if it helps security? Why aren’t the questions randomized, too? After all, the questions are always exactly the same at each airport. Am I flying out of [insert airport here]? Well then, I better know when I was born as per my ID. Again, the lack of real thought and standardization again reinforces the question in the back of your mind… is this security, or is it security theater?

Then comes putting your items into bins so that they can be x-rayed… If you’re flying with an iPad, can it remain in its case, or does it need to be put in a separate bin and not inside of a case like a laptop does? The TSA website says one thing, but that is irrelevant. Do your shoes need to go directly on the belt, or can they go in a bin? What’s the current policy as per the website? Also irrelevant. The reason the policy is irrelevant is because if you ever mention such a thing, the TSO in question will almost certainly just tell you that the website is out of date, and that they’re correct. Run into an issue? Just pretend like you’re some dumb, ignorant, compliant person that’s so grateful to be informed of what’s correct, and you won’t run into problems.

Having my items x-rayed this time was mildly eventful. I “learned” that in addition to having to have my laptop outside of its case and in a separate bin with nothing else in it, that my laptop case (as it is a sleeve) also needs to be placed in that bin now, apparently. Also, it can’t be placed just anywhere, mind you; it must be placed on top of the laptop. Anywhere else is unacceptable. Don’t bother looking for any of this “new” stuff on the TSA website, though.

I also learned that I don’t need to put my shoes directly on the belt anymore. This is of course correct, but the last time I flew out of the exact same airport (and the policy is still bin or belt is fine, as it was then, and has been for a very long time), I was verbally chastised for putting my shoes in a bin. Do the TSA screeners not even know what rules they’re supposed to be enforcing? Do they not pay attention to rule updates, and do they randomly make stuff up as they go along? This is the case with at least some screeners.

On the other side of the x-ray machines, while my stuff was going through, someone screamed at the top of their lungs “WHO THE FUCK BROUGHT THE METAL LAPTOP?”, as if a laptop that has an aluminum body (like many) is prohibited (it’s not, and never has been). The person with the metal laptop was presumably me. I didn’t say a word, because another TSO immediately corrected the first with “[Name], metal laptops are OK”. At which point, the person pretended to have never asked screamed the question. This raises an interesting question, though, why did this person think metal-bodied laptops weren’t OK, and if they’ve apparently never seen one before, how much training and experience does one need to independently operate the x-ray machine?

Anyone can look at various tests of the effectiveness of the TSA, and criticism of their failure to implement various screening measures. For example, all passenger luggage isn’t even searched yet, despite this being a supposed top priority of the TSA. This is public knowledge. Their failure rate when tested is abysmal, too. Heck, even the simple measure of "Do TSO's know what the regulations they're enforcing are" is almost certainly not one that's overwhelmingly in favor of TSA competence.

It seems fairly obvious to me that the TSA isn’t about security, it’s about security theater; this thought is fairly scary, and at the same time it’s a bit outrageous. Trading unessential liberty (and depending on your interpretation of the 4^th amendment, essential liberty) for temporary safety is one thing, but trading unessential liberty for a poorly constructed illusion of temporary safety is something that I’ll pass on any day.

ROI and College Choice

One way to think about picking a college, and even picking a major within a college, is to think about them as a financial investment. Obviously, considering things as purely a financial investment is naïve, as there are a lot of other benefits to attending college and earning a degree, although those benefits are considerably more difficult to quantify. Money, however, is pretty easy to quantify.

One way of determining how good a particular investment is to look at what’s known as Return on Investment (ROI), which is defined mathematically as:

ROI = (Gain from investment – Cost of investment) / (Cost of investment)

This is a broad definition of course, and depending on the specific inputs you consider as both gain and cost, the result can vary a bit. However, if you consider the same factors for everything you’re comparing, then you can get a useful comparison between the financial benefit of one option versus another option.

Let’s say you’re trying to decide between school A and school B. You know how much each school will cost you to attend, you know roughly how much you’ll need to take out in loans and at what interest rate, and you can estimate how much money you’ll generally be making after you graduate from each school. Knowing all of this, you can calculate ROI for each option. Know the graduation rates for both schools? You can factor that into your calculation as well. Can you estimate the percentage raise you can expect every year? Factor that in as well.

You can use this same idea for comparing different majors within any given school, too, or even different career paths. This can be especially useful in cases that aren’t quite intuitive, such as say, whether or not you should pick a major with a higher starting salary but generally lower income growth, or a major with a lower starting salary but generally higher income growth.

I’m not saying to make your decision based entirely on the financial aspect, but given that you can quantify that aspect, you really should actually quantify it instead of just guessing as to what it’ll probably be. The results might surprise you, either showing a bigger cost to one option than you had expected, or less cost to one option than you had expected.

Heart Attack Symptoms in Women

The typical signs of a heart attack in women are different than they are in men. This isn't known widely enough.

The symptoms, as per heart.org, in women are:

1. Uncomfortable pressure, squeezing, fullness or pain in the center of your chest. It lasts for more than a few minutes, or goes away and comes back.

2. Pain or discomfort in one or both arms, the back, neck, jaw, or stomach.

3. Shortness of breath with or without chest discomfort.

4. Breaking out in a cold sweat, nausea, or lightheadedness.

5. Chest pain or discomfort. (As in men)

Women are much more likely than men to experience the first 4 points in the list.

If you or someone you know are experiencing some or all of the above symptoms, call 911 (or whatever the emergency number in your country happens to be). Do not ignore your symptoms.

I plan to run in the 2014 (or 2015) Boston Marathon

For those that don't know, the Boston Marathon this year was attacked by a currently unknown bomber, with a currently unknown ideology. The purpose of this post isn't to recap the horror and tragedy of the events that took place, or to endlessly speculate as to who might have perpetrated the attack and why; you can turn to any U.S. news website for that. The purpose of this post is to announce that I plan to try and run in the Boston Marathon in 2014.

The main reason for this is simple: the best way to deal with terrorism is to ignore it, while simultaneously standing up to it. I'm not going to let the attack change my life, nor am I going to live in fear. There would be no point in either of those things, and both of those things is evidently what the perpetrator desires. Instead, I'm going to train for my (first ever) marathon, in hopes of qualifying for Boston. Maybe I'll qualify for next year, maybe I won't. The odds aren't fantastic; only 7.9% of all marathon runners under 34 years of age qualify, and a slightly less percentage of men under 34 manage to qualify. With that said, I'm pretty sure that if I can't manage to qualify for the 2014 Boston Marathon, I can at least manage to qualify by 2015, at least maybe.

And of course, because my readership is extremely small, I'll even let you in on part of my strategy. I plan to run in marathons in greater than 5 months time that have the highest percentage of qualifiers for the Boston Marathon, at least, those that I can reasonably manage to run in, like the Inland Trail marathon in Elyria, Ohio, or the California International marathon in Sacramento, California, or some that are in New York. (You might be wondering how these geographic locations could possibly be easy for me to participate in. It's a secret.)

Seven steps to cut down on the amount of TV you watch

As a disclaimer, my process worked for me, and it might not work for you. It'll likely be (more) helpful if the shows you tend to watch are serialized (or procedural with a substantial serialized element), and not strictly procedural, and if they tend to be more drama-oriented, as opposed to being comedy-oriented or documentaries (or god forbid, "reality" TV).

Step 1

 

Make a list of all of the TV shows that you currently watch. Make sure not to just include shows from the current TV season, but all the shows coming up in future seasons that you've watched in the past and plan to watch in the future.

If you're having trouble making the list comprehensive, you should consult your DVR (if you have one). Or, if you are a person that pirates shows, consult your torrent client.

I recently made such a list, and I ended up with 37 entries. It was absolutely shocking to me how high that number was.

Step 2

 

Go over your list of TV shows, and try and recall what happened in the show during the last few episodes that aired. If you can't remember, especially if the show is currently in season, cross the show off your list. If you're pretty hazy and don't remember very much, also cross it off your list.

My reasoning behind this step was that, the shows I most enjoy are easily memorable, even those that haven't been on the air for awhile. It was trivially easy to remember where Game of Thrones left off last season (before watching any of the current season), for example, but Franklin & Bash? Easily forgettable.

Step 3

 

Continuing from Step 2, consider all of the most memorable events that occurred on a particular show; events that shocked you, had you on the edge of your seat, or made you deeply feel for the characters. Of course, include moments where you burst into laughter and the like as well.

For shows that have run a long time, consider how these moments are distributed.  If it turns out that these moments are mostly all located at a point in time well before the last season or seasons aired, then cross the show off your list. Doing this might be extremely difficult, because there are shows that are initially so good that you fall in love, and keep watching them well past their prime. It seriously pained me to cross off Supernatural, Sons of Anarchy, and a few more from my list here, in part because of how much I enjoyed the first few seasons of each. As I was writing this, it occurred to me that if I had applied this test to Lost while it was still on their air, I never would have made it much farther than the initial season (but, that first season was absolutely masterful).

For all of the other shows, subdivide the number of memorable moments into kind of memorable moments, and spectacularly memorable moments. Write both numbers beside the show on your list, for use in future steps. Your numbers don't need to be exact, of course, just write down how many you can think of.

Step 4

 

Now that you've written your memorable moments numbers down, compare the different numbers you've given to different shows. Are there any that just seem extremely lackluster to you? There were on my list, and I promptly crossed most of them off. I noticed a huge trend here, too, in that most of the shows that were lackluster I was a bit "on the fence" with as far as the distribution of memorable moments went, or at least, I should have been. I crossed out Beauty and The Beast here, as well as Arrow here, as two examples.

Step 5

 

Are there any shows you haven't crossed off yet, where there's no sense of jeopardy for any of the characters at all (and/or you're just not emotionally invested in anymore), or where the lack of realism has built to the point of lunacy? I crossed out Pretty Little Liars here, as an example. I crossed out Dexter as well. Heck, I even put an extra cross through Arrow and Beauty and The Beast here, too. I honestly had a hard time believing that I was still watching some of the shows I crossed out here. I had a hard time believing that I didn't turn Beauty and The Beast off during the first episode, even, without the temptation to ever watch it again.

Step 6

 

Count how many shows that you haven't yet crossed off. Divide by 3. Write some other stuff that you enjoy, and which you can do in approximately one hour of time. How many things should you write? Whatever number you got when you divided, and then add 3 more things to it (yeah, so this is just kind of arbitrary--just don't write too few things down, and don't write too many down either). Really think about how much you enjoy these activities, why you enjoy them, and especially how you'd like to do them more.

Step 7

 

For all of the remaining shows on your list, compare the enjoyment and benefit you get from watching them versus all of the other things you just wrote down in Step 6. Cross off all of the shows where you'd rather be doing something else, as opposed to watching them.

I crossed out a bunch of shows here (actually, I had a huge number of shows on my list, so I crossed out a bunch at every step, haha), and I was a little sad to see some of them go, but at the same time it was obvious that it was time to stop watching those shows.

In Conclusion

All in all, I managed to whittle my list of shows down from a gigantic 37 to a much more respectable 5. Then, I decided to save Lost Girl as it was kind of on the bubble, and see where the current season goes. I decided to save Continuum while I was at it, and see how the new season goes. Finally, I very recently watched the premier of Da Vinci's Demons, and think I'll add it to my list of shows to watch as well.

List of shows I'll be watching (all of which are tentative of course, as I plan to periodically re-evaluate shows now, and you should too!):

• Lost Girl -- on the bubble
• Continuum -- on the bubble
• Breaking Bad
• True Blood
• Game of Thrones
• Homeland
• Doctor Who
• Da Vinci's Demons -- going to see where it goes

37 to 8 is pretty good, when all is said and done. Assuming an average of 20 episodes per season for everything I watched, and that the average show had 45 minutes of content that means I'll be saving about 26,100 minutes per year, or 435 hours per year. That's an absurd amount of time, and I actually double and triple checked the math (and the assumptions I poured into it). To put this into context, in an average year of 365 days (yeah, I'm not including leap years and getting an average with a fractional day tacked on) there are 8,760 hours, with approximately 5,840 of them being waking hours. 435 hours is about 7.4% of the total waking hours in a year.

As such, here's another "hidden" (because I'm not explicitly listing it) step: re-evaluate your list at this point in terms of hours per year spent watching each show. You might just be able to cross some more shows off the list, or, alternatively, you might be able to rationalize how fantastic of a time investment what you've left on your list is.

Guns versus Cars (not about gun control)

This is a classic example of why arguments from analogy are bad, often fallacious, and not the best way to arrive at a reasonable position.

Non-U.S. readers might not be aware of the gun control debate taking place here, and that has been taking place here for a very long time. It is a political debate, and neither side is much concerned with having a position that's data-driven and actually based on the sum of reliable data, just like most political debates.

A fairly common analogy used by both sides in the debate is that of guns versus cars.

One side might say that guns should be licensed like cars. One would need to get a learners permit at a certain age, and after a period of learning, need to take a formal test composed of both a written and practical portion. No one should be allowed to operate a firearm without a license, or a learners permit (and then under appropriate supervision). Often times, this analogy is extended into territory where it's not even an attempt at an analogy anymore, like making sure the tests are very comprehensive, or requiring a license to own a gun (when one isn't required to own a car), and so on and so forth.

The other side might say... that guns should be licensed like cars. That one wouldn't need a license at all unless they were operating the gun in public. That the written test would be extremely trivial, and with all of the answers contained within a fairly short packet, with virtually no delay period to retake the test if it is failed. The practical test would also be extremely trivial, and the people who were so abysmally bad they couldn't pass it could always pay an unscrupulous third party about $500 (bribe included) to bribe the person administering the practical test. The license would be honored under the full faith and credit clause of the United States Constitution, and thus would be valid in all 50 states. Often times, this analogy is further extended as well, like adding bits about "expanded capacity fuel tanks" and the like (which is OK in some instances, but not OK in others).

Both sides overextend the analogy, and both sides fail to realize that they're arguing by analogy. Both are quick to point out how bad the analogy actually is, or how guns aren't anything like cars, when confronted with the other side using the analogy. One side will point out how there is no second amendment for cars and invoking emotionally charged patriotic rhetoric, whereas the other side will point out that cars are designed for transportation and not killing, also invoking emotionally charged rhetoric.

Certain points of comparison will be ignored by either side. For example, one side will mention a tax on ammunition (analogous to a tax on gasoline), whereas the other side will never mention anything about a tax on ammunition. However, they'll probably mention the rate at which cars can expend gasoline, and the other side won't. They'll naturally both have rebuttals to both points, that generally point out where the analogy of the other side is flawed or overextended. In the examples mentioned, one side will note the justifications regarding why there's a tax on gasoline, and how that wouldn't or shouldn't apply to ammunition. The other will note how there are fuel economy and emissions regulations that vehicle manufactures and owners must adhere to.

There are a couple points of observation that I think are worth noting here:

1. Arguments from analogy are almost always bad arguments. If you notice yourself using them, you're probably wrong, or at least you should find a way to better substantiate your own position. OK, so you're not probably wrong, but you are probably wrong if you can't find a better way to substantiate your own position other than an argument by analogy. Sometimes analogies work, like representing atomic bonds as springs connecting two respective atoms, but the only reason we know those analogies work in the specific instances that they do work is because it's been verified in some other more rigorous way. Just because they work in one respect, like pretending a bond is like a spring connecting two atoms for the purposes of explaining IR Spectroscopy, doesn't mean they'll work when explaining something else, like say, reaction mechanisms.

2. Ideological bias is blinding. People on either side generally can't see, or don't want to see or acknowledge when their arguments are bad. They're often not even interested if their arguments are convincing to the other side, or even potentially convincing; it's more about parroting, and trying to influence people who are yet undecided. This bias can be avoided by not identifying with a particular ideology, though, but instead identify with taking a scientific or realist approach to such things, and holding that truth and accuracy are more important than any ideology.

3. Arguments from analogy can be replaced fairly easily, but at the cost of taking a step or two back form the analogy. It's perfectly valid to examine the different regulatory structures for cars and guns (and even include more items), considering everything, and have a debate not about gun regulations need to tighten or loosen (or both), but instead about the principles by which we should go about regulating inanimate objects. It's even possible to make such a debate based primarily or at least in large part on actual evidence, like say comparing objective measures of benefit versus objective measures of cost or harm. Making a debate about actual facts that are accurately represented is not convenient, though, unless one is more interested in accuracy than ideology.

P.S. This article from a blog I follow does a good job at illustrating my point, both in the actual article, and some of the reverse in the comments section. While not the most "rabid" example, it's probably better than those examples, because virtually everyone participating has a graduate degree and should be well aware of the problems of arguing from an analogy.

Intoxication, Consent, Analogies, & Fallacies

I received a question on my ask.fm account (www.ask.fm/mattinnominate) which warrants a response that’s a lot more detailed than the character limit at ask.fm provides for. The question was as follows:

“Why is it my fault if they're drunk and we chose have sex, but there fault if they're drunk and choose to drive a car?”

Grammar aside, the first thing that jumps out to me with this question is how bad the analogy is. The two things the analogy is comparing are not at all alike.

In scenario #1, we have two people, presumably in a private space. One person is intoxicated, and the other person may or may not be intoxicated. There is not imminent risk to other people, aside from the two parties involved.

In scenario #2, we have a person and a car (an inanimate object), with the car presumably being driven in a public space. The person driving the car is intoxicated. There is imminent risk to other people, aside from the person driving the car.

The analogy could be made a bit better if scenario #2 were different. For example, I think it would be a bit more analogous if a potentially sober potentially intoxicated person egged an intoxicated person into driving the car. It'd be even better if that person hopped in the passenger seat, and the car was being driven in a private space where only the two aforementioned parties were in actual danger.

Even this better analogy leads to a false comparison, though, which is a prime example why making an argument from an analogy can be a fallacy.

To even begin to analyze scenario #1, we need to know how intoxicated the first person is, how intoxicated the second person is (if at all), and how intoxicated they are relative to each other. Depending on the answers to those questions, having sex with the person might be rape, or it might be ethically fine, or it might not be rape but be in an ethically and/or legally grey area. Even worse, there are more questions to consider, because the impairment effects of alcohol are not instantaneous upon consuming it; what if at the start of the act, both parties are capable of consent from a legal standpoint (more on this later), but partway through the act one of the parties is no longer capable of consent from a legal standpoint; obviously, there is some dividing line between legal and not legal, rape and note rape due to lack of ability to consent, and that dividing line is unknowable right at its limits, but when you get far enough from the limits, is quite obvious.

It's not the intent of my post to determine what is rape and what isn't rape in this scenario, because that's not possible, as it's determined after the fact, the determination is partially subjective, and rests highly on a lot of other factors that shouldn't matter (or shouldn't matter as much as they do) like how well acquainted the two parties were (i.e. total strangers versus friends versus dating versus married), how various laws are specifically written, precedents, the gender(s) of the respective parties, and so on and so forth.

I will offer the advice, which is not in any way legal advice, that you shouldn't have sex with someone if you'd be *at all* nervous about either your or their ability to safely perform an action that might be dangerous to others or to themselves. Examples might include driving a car, splitting firewood, operating a firearm, or any number of other things. If there's even a small fraction of a chance their judgment is too impaired to consent, don't have sex. Rape isn't cool, and not being a rapist isn't difficult.

The main reason I thought this question deserved a longer reply was not because it was actually any good (A simple "yes, it's your fault if they're too impaired to consent, and your analogy sucks" might have been sufficient). It's because it raises some interesting questions on its own.

The first question is that, legally or ethically speaking, how is it that a person who intoxicated at a certain level can be held responsible for exercising the judgment to drive a car, recklessly endangering other people and themselves in the process, but simultaneously be deemed incapable of exercising the judgment to have sex? The only real answer here is that there's a compelling state interest to protect the public, and one way of doing that is holding drunk drivers accountable for their actions. Quite by accident (and also interestingly), this is almost entirely consistent with how we might expect a system that operates without the presupposition of free will to behave, unlike how much of the rest of our justice system behaves (although, punishment versus rehabilitation is where the rest of the system generally diverges).

The second question is that given the impairment effects of alcohol are continuous (or at least, continuous at every level until death occurs, so continuous for everything we're talking about), how is it there can be any kind of clear delineation between too impaired and not too impaired? There isn't really a good answer here. One answer is that there's a dividing line, perhaps arbitrary, but that it's impossible to know for certain where that line actually falls. It's not a very satisfying answer, though, is it? Wherever that line falls, is it reasonable to assume that a single less alcohol molecule in the total blood volume of the person would then put the person into the "able to consent" category again? No, it's not, so that unknowable dividing line seems to be an inconsistently placed unknowable dividing line, at that. There is at least tiering of drunk driving offenses, based on blood alcohol concentration. There appears to be no such parity as far as sex goes, at least as far as I can tell based on my searches on the topic. There also appears to be no real standard for when both parties involved in a sex act are too intoxicated to consent, especially if there's a different level of intoxication between them. I have no idea why there aren't any (that I was able to find) attempt to codify such things into the law, but my guess is that the reason is purely political, which is somewhat unfortunate, although simultaneously enlightening about some governmental dysfunction.

 A third question, closely related to the first question, is regarding differing levels of intoxication in two parties who are both too intoxicated to consent. Did they both rape each other?  Is there no crime? Is the less intoxicated party guilty of rape, but not the more intoxicated party? There's of course no definite answer to the question (unlike there is when we're not talking about inability to consent due to intoxication, but instead when we're talking about inability to consent due to age).