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The treadmill's dark and twisted past | null | TED-Ed | The constant thud underneath your feet, the constrained space, and the monotony of going nowhere fast. It feels like hours have gone by, but it's only been eleven minutes, and you wonder, "Why am I torturing myself? This thing has got to be considered a cruel and unusual punishment." Actually, that's exactly what it is, or was. You see, in the 1800s, treadmills were created to punish English prisoners. At the time, the English prison system was abysmally bad. Execution and deportation were often the punishments of choice, and those who were locked away faced hours of solitude in filthy cells. So social movements led by religious groups, philanthropies, and celebrities, like Charles Dickens, sought to change these dire conditions and help reform the prisoners. When their movement succeeded, entire prisons were remodeled and new forms of rehabilitation, such as the treadmill, were introduced. Here's how the original version, invented in 1818 by English engineer Sir William Cubitt, worked. Prisoners stepped on 24 spokes of a large paddle wheel. As the wheel turned, the prisoner was forced to keep stepping up or risk falling off, similar to modern stepper machines. Meanwhile, the rotation made gears pump out water, crush grain, or power mills, which is where the name "treadmill" originated. These devices were seen as a fantastic way of whipping prisoners into shape, and that added benefit of powering mills helped to rebuild a British economy decimated by the Napoleonic Wars. It was a win for all concerned, except the prisoners. It's estimated that, on average, prisoners spent six or so hours a day on treadmills, the equivalent of climbing 5,000 to 14,000 feet. 14,000 feet is roughly Mount Everest's halfway point. Imagine doing that five days a week with little food. Cubitt's idea quickly spread across the British Empire and America. Within a decade of its creation, over 50 English prisons boasted a treadmill, and America, a similar amount. Unsurprisingly, the exertion combined with poor nutrition saw many prisoners suffer breakdowns and injuries, not that prison guards seemed to care. In 1824, New York prison guard James Hardie credited the device with taming his more boisterous inmates, writing that the "monotonous steadiness, and not its severity...constitutes its terror," a quote many still agree with. And treadmills lasted in England until the late 19th century, when they were banned for being excessively cruel under the Prison's Act of 1898. But of course the torture device returned with a vengeance, this time targeting the unsuspecting public. In 1911, a treadmill patent was registered in the U.S., and by 1952, the forerunner for today's modern treadmill had been created. When the jogging craze hit the U.S. in the 1970s, the treadmill was thrust back into the limelight as an easy and convenient way to improve aerobic fitness, and lose unwanted pounds, which, to be fair, it's pretty good at doing. And the machine has maintained its popularity since. So the next time you voluntarily subject yourself to what was once a cruel and unusual punishment, just be glad you can control when you'll hop off. |
What "Orwellian" really means | null | TED-Ed | If you've watched the news or followed politics chances are you've heard the term Orwellian thrown around in one context or another. But have you ever stopped to think about what it really means, or why it's used so often? The term was named after British author Eric Blair known by his pen name George Orwell. Because his most famous work, the novel "1984," depicts an oppressive society under a totalitarian government, "Orwellian" is often used simply to mean authoritarian. But using the term in this way not only fails to fully convey Orwell's message, it actually risks doing precisely what he tried to warn against. Orwell was indeed opposed to all forms of tyranny, spending much of his life fighting against anti-democratic forces of both the left-wing and the right. But he was also deeply concerned with how such ideologies proliferate. And one of his most profound insights was the importance that language plays in shaping our thoughts and opinions. The government of "1984"'s Oceania controls its people's actions and speech in some ways that are obvious. Their every move and word is watched and heard, and the threat of what happens to those who step out of line is always looming overhead. Other forms of control are not so obvious. The population is inundated with a constant barrage of propaganda made up of historical facts and statistics manufactured in the Ministry of Truth. The Ministry of Peace is the military. Labor camps are called "Joycamps." Political prisoners are detained and tortured in the Ministry of Love. This deliberate irony is an example of doublespeak, when words are used not to convey meaning but to undermine it, corrupting the very ideas they refer to. The regime's control of language goes even further, eliminating words from the English language to create the official dialect of Newspeak, a crudely limited collection of acronyms and simple concrete nouns lacking any words complex enough to encourage nuanced or critical thought. This has an effect on the psyche Orwell calls, "Doublethink," a hypnotic state of cognitive dissonance in which one is compelled to disregard their own perception in place of the officially dictated version of events, leaving the individual completely dependent on the State's definition of reality itself. The result is a world in which even the privacy of one's own thought process is violated, where one may be found guilty of thoughtcrime by talking in their sleep, and keeping a diary or having a love affair equals a subversive act of rebellion. This might sound like something that can only happen in totalitarian regimes, but Orwell was warning us about the potential for this occurring even in democratic societies. And this is why "authoritarian" alone does not "Orwellian" make. In his essay, "Politics and the English Language," he described techniques like using pretentious words to project authority, or making atrocities sound acceptable by burying them in euphemisms and convoluted sentence structures. But even more mundane abuses of language can affect the way we think about things. The words you see and hear in everyday advertising have been crafted to appeal to you and affect your behavior, as have the soundbites and talking points of political campaigns which rarely present the most nuanced perspective on the issues. And the way that we use ready-made phrases and responses gleaned from media reports or copied from the Internet makes it easy to get away with not thinking too deeply or questioning your assumptions. So the next time you hear someone use the word Orwellian, pay close attention. If they're talking about the deceptive and manipulative use of language, they're on the right track. If they're talking about mass surveillance and intrusive government, they're describing something authoritarian but not necessarily Orwellian. And if they use it as an all-purpose word for any ideas they dislike, it's possible their statements are more Orwellian than whatever it is they're criticizing. Words have the power to shape thought. Language is the currency of politics, forming the basis of society from the most common, everyday interactions to the highest ideals. Orwell urged us to protect our language because ultimately our ability to think and communicate clearly is what stands between us and a world where war is peace and freedom is slavery. |
How sugar affects the brain | null | TED-Ed | Picture warm, gooey cookies, crunchy candies, velvety cakes, waffle cones piled high with ice cream. Is your mouth watering? Are you craving dessert? Why? What happens in the brain that makes sugary foods so hard to resist? Sugar is a general term used to describe a class of molecules called carbohydrates, and it's found in a wide variety of food and drink. Just check the labels on sweet products you buy. Glucose, fructose, sucrose, maltose, lactose, dextrose, and starch are all forms of sugar. So are high-fructose corn syrup, fruit juice, raw sugar, and honey. And sugar isn't just in candies and desserts, it's also added to tomato sauce, yogurt, dried fruit, flavored waters, or granola bars. Since sugar is everywhere, it's important to understand how it affects the brain. What happens when sugar hits your tongue? And does eating a little bit of sugar make you crave more? You take a bite of cereal. The sugars it contains activate the sweet-taste receptors, part of the taste buds on the tongue. These receptors send a signal up to the brain stem, and from there, it forks off into many areas of the forebrain, one of which is the cerebral cortex. Different sections of the cerebral cortex process different tastes: bitter, salty, umami, and, in our case, sweet. From here, the signal activates the brain's reward system. This reward system is a series of electrical and chemical pathways across several different regions of the brain. It's a complicated network, but it helps answer a single, subconscious question: should I do that again? That warm, fuzzy feeling you get when you taste Grandma's chocolate cake? That's your reward system saying, "Mmm, yes!" And it's not just activated by food. Socializing, sexual behavior, and drugs are just a few examples of things and experiences that also activate the reward system. But overactivating this reward system kickstarts a series of unfortunate events: loss of control, craving, and increased tolerance to sugar. Let's get back to our bite of cereal. It travels down into your stomach and eventually into your gut. And guess what? There are sugar receptors here, too. They are not taste buds, but they do send signals telling your brain that you're full or that your body should produce more insulin to deal with the extra sugar you're eating. The major currency of our reward system is dopamine, an important chemical or neurotransmitter. There are many dopamine receptors in the forebrain, but they're not evenly distributed. Certain areas contain dense clusters of receptors, and these dopamine hot spots are a part of our reward system. Drugs like alcohol, nicotine, or heroin send dopamine into overdrive, leading some people to constantly seek that high, in other words, to be addicted. Sugar also causes dopamine to be released, though not as violently as drugs. And sugar is rare among dopamine-inducing foods. Broccoli, for example, has no effect, which probably explains why it's so hard to get kids to eat their veggies. Speaking of healthy foods, let's say you're hungry and decide to eat a balanced meal. You do, and dopamine levels spike in the reward system hot spots. But if you eat that same dish many days in a row, dopamine levels will spike less and less, eventually leveling out. That's because when it comes to food, the brain evolved to pay special attention to new or different tastes. Why? Two reasons: first, to detect food that's gone bad. And second, because the more variety we have in our diet, the more likely we are to get all the nutrients we need. To keep that variety up, we need to be able to recognize a new food, and more importantly, we need to want to keep eating new foods. And that's why the dopamine levels off when a food becomes boring. Now, back to that meal. What happens if in place of the healthy, balanced dish, you eat sugar-rich food instead? If you rarely eat sugar or don't eat much at a time, the effect is similar to that of the balanced meal. But if you eat too much, the dopamine response does not level out. In other words, eating lots of sugar will continue to feel rewarding. In this way, sugar behaves a little bit like a drug. It's one reason people seem to be hooked on sugary foods. So, think back to all those different kinds of sugar. Each one is unique, but every time any sugar is consumed, it kickstarts a domino effect in the brain that sparks a rewarding feeling. Too much, too often, and things can go into overdrive. So, yes, overconsumption of sugar can have addictive effects on the brain, but a wedge of cake once in a while won't hurt you. |
Why do cats act so weird? | null | TED-Ed | Why do cats do that? They're cute, they're lovable, and judging by the 26 billions views of over 2 million YouTube videos of them pouncing, bouncing, climbing, cramming, stalking, clawing, chattering, and purring, one thing is certain: cats are very entertaining. These somewhat strange feline behaviors, both amusing and baffling, leave many of us asking, "Why do cats do that?" Throughout time, cats were simultaneously solitary predators of smaller animals and prey for larger carnivores. As both predator and prey, survival of their species depended on crucial instinctual behaviors which we still observe in wild and domestic cats today. While the feline actions of your house cat Grizmo might seem perplexing, in the wild, these same behaviors, naturally bred into cats for millions of years, would make Grizmo a super cat. Enabled by their unique muscular structure and keen balancing abilities, cats climbed to high vantage points to survey their territory and spot prey in the wild. Grizmo doesn't need these particular skills to find and hunt down dinner in her food bowl today, but instinctually, viewing the living room from the top of the bookcase is exactly what she has evolved to do. As wild predators, cats are opportunistic and hunt whenever prey is available. Since most cat prey are small, cats in the wild needed to eat many times each day, and use a stalk, pounce, kill, eat strategy to stay fed. This is why Grizmo prefers to chase and pounce on little toys and eat small meals over the course of the day and night. Also, small prey tend to hide in tiny spaces in their natural environments, so one explanation for Grizmo's propensity to reach into containers and openings is that she is compelled by the same curiosity that helped ensure the continuation of her species for millions of years before. In the wild, cats needed sharp claws for climbing, hunting, and self-defense. Sharpening their claws on nearby surfaces kept them conditioned and ready, helped stretch their back and leg muscles, and relieve some stress, too. So, it's not that Grizmo hates your couch, chair, ottoman, pillows, curtains, and everything else you put in her environment. She's ripping these things to shreds and keeping her claws in tip-top shape because this is exactly what her ancestors did in order to survive. As animals that were preyed upon, cats evolved to not get caught, and in the wild, the cats that were the best at avoiding predators thrived. So at your house today, Grizmo is an expert at squeezing into small spaces and seeking out and hiding in unconventional spots. It also explains why she prefers a clean and odor-free litter box. That's less likely to give away her location to any predators that may be sniffing around nearby. Considering everything we do know about cats, it seems that one of their most predominate behaviors is still one of the most mysterious. Cats may purr for any number of reasons, such as happiness, stress, and hunger. But curiously, the frequency of their purrs, between 25 and 150 hertz, is within a range that can promote tissue regeneration. So while her purring makes Grizmo an excellent nap companion, it is also possible that her purr is healing her muscles and bones, and maybe even yours, too. They developed through time as both solitary predators that hunted and killed to eat, and stealthy prey that hid and escaped to survive. So cats today retain many of the same instincts that allowed them to thrive in the wild for millions of years. This explains some of their seemingly strange behaviors. To them, our homes are their jungles. But if this is the case, in our own cat's eyes, who are we? Big, dumb, hairless cats competing with them for resources? Terribly stupid predators they're able to outsmart every day? Or maybe they think we're the prey. |
The science of stage fright (and how to overcome it) | null | TED-Ed | Palms sweaty, heart racing, stomach in knots. You can't cry for help. Not only is your throat too tight to breathe, but it'd be so embarrassing. No, you aren't being stalked by a monster, you're speaking in public, a fate some deem worse than death. See, when you're dead, you feel nothing; at a podium, you feel stage fright. But at some point we've all had to communicate in front of people, so you have to try and overcome it. To start, understand what stage fright is. Humans, social animals that we are, are wired to worry about reputation. Public speaking can threaten it. Before a speech, you fret, "What if people think I'm awful and I'm an idiot?" That fear of being seen as an awful idiot is a threat reaction from a primitive part of your brain that's very hard to control. It's the fight or flight response, a self-protective process seen in a range of animals, most of which don't give speeches. But we have a wise partner in the study of freaking out. Charles Darwin tested fight or flight at the London Zoo snake exhibit. He wrote in his diary, "My will and reason were powerless against the imagination of a danger which had never been experienced." He concluded that his response was an ancient reaction unaffected by the nuances of modern civilization. So, to your conscious modern mind, it's a speech. To the rest of your brain, built up to code with the law of the jungle, when you perceive the possible consequences of blowing a speech, it's time to run for your life or fight to the death. Your hypothalamus, common to all vertebrates, triggers your pituitary gland to secrete the hormone ACTH, making your adrenal gland shoot adrenaline into your blood. Your neck and back tense up, you slouch. Your legs and hand shake as your muscles prepare for attack. You sweat. Your blood pressure jumps. Your digestion shuts down to maximize the delivery of nutrients and oxygen to muscles and vital organs, so you get dry mouth, butterflies. Your pupils dilate, it's hard to read anything up close, like your notes, but long range is easy. That's how stage fright works. How do we fight it? First, perspective. This isn't all in your head. It's a natural, hormonal, full body reaction by an autonomic nervous system on autopilot. And genetics play a huge role in social anxiety. John Lennon played live thousands of times. Each time he vomited beforehand. Some people are just wired to feel more scared performing in public. Since stage fright is natural and inevitable, focus on what you can control. Practice a lot, starting long before in an environment similar to the real performance. Practicing any task increases your familiarity and reduces anxiety, so when it's time to speak in public, you're confident in yourself and the task at hand. Steve Jobs rehearsed his epic speeches for hundreds of hours, starting weeks in advance. If you know what you're saying, you'll feed off the crowd's energy instead of letting your hypothalamus convince your body it's about to be lunch for a pack of predators. But hey, the vertebrate hypothalamus has had millions of years more practice than you. Just before you go on stage, it's time to fight dirty and trick your brain. Stretch your arms up and breath deeply. This makes your hypothalamus trigger a relaxation response. Stage fright usually hits hardest right before a presentation, so take that last minute to stretch and breathe. You approach the Mic, voice clear, body relaxed. Your well-prepared speech convinces the wild crowd you're a charismatic genius. How? You didn't overcome stage fright, you adapted to it. And to the fact that no matter how civilized you may seem, in part of your brain, you're still a wild animal, a profound, well-spoken wild animal. |
Who belongs in a city? | {0: 'Writing on urban development, sexual and reproductive rights, gender and queerness, OluTimehin Adegbeye resists marginalization by reminding her audiences of the validity of every human experience.'} | TEDGlobal 2017 | Cities are like siblings in a large polygamous family. Each one has a unique personality and is headed in a distinct direction. But they all have somewhat shared origins. Sometimes I think postcolonial cities are like the children of the two least-favorite wives, who are constantly being asked, "Ah, why can't you be more like your sister?" (Laughter) The "why" of cities is largely the same, no matter where they are: an advantageous location that makes trade and administration possible; the potential for scalable opportunities for the skilled and unskilled alike; a popular willingness to be in constant flux and, of course, resilience. The "how" of cities, however, is a whole other story. How are they run? How do they grow? How do they decide who belongs and who doesn't? Lagos is my home. You can always find the Nigerians by following the noise and the dancing, right? (Laughter) Like any major city, that place is a lot of things, many of which are highly contradictory. Our public transportation doesn't quite work, so we have these privately owned bright yellow buses that regularly cause accidents. Luxury car showrooms line badly maintained and often flooded roads. Street evangelism is only slightly less ubiquitous than street harassment. Sex workers sometimes have two degrees, a bank job and a prominent role in church. (Laughter) On any given day, there can be either a party or a burned body in the middle of a street. There is so much that is possible in Lagos and so much that isn't, and very often the difference between possibility and impossibility is simply who you are, and if you're lucky enough, who you're connected to. Belonging in Lagos is a fluid concept determined by ethnic origin, sexual orientation, gender, but most visibly and often most violently, class. Before Nigeria became a country, fisherpeople from the inland creeks started to come down the Lagos lagoon and establish villages along the coast. About 60 years later, my grandfather, Oludotun Adekunle Kukoyi, also arrived in Lagos. Like me, he was an alumnus of the University of Ibadan, a young member of the educated elite in the independence era. Over time, he built an illustrious career as a land surveyor, mapping out now-bustling neighborhoods when they were just waist-high wild grass. He died when I was nine. And by that time, my family, like the families of those fisherpeople, knew Lagos as home. Among the Yoruba, we have a saying, "Èkó gb’olè, ó gb’ọ̀lẹ," which can be translated to mean that Lagos will welcome anyone. But that saying is becoming less and less true. Many Lagosians, including the descendants of those fisherpeople who arrived generations before my grandfather, are now being pushed out to make room for an emergent city that has been described as "the new Dubai." You see, Lagos inspires big dreams, even in its leaders, and successive governments have declared aspirations towards a megacity where poverty does not exist. Unfortunately, instead of focusing on the eradication of poverty as you would expect, the strategy of choice focuses on eliminating the poor. Last October, the Governor announced plans to demolish every single waterfront settlement in Lagos. There are more than 40 of these indigenous communities all over the city, with over 300,000 people living in them. Otodo Gbame, a hundred-year-old fishing village with a population about three-quarters that of Monaco and similar potential for beachfront luxury — (Laughter) was one of the first to be targeted. I first heard of Otodo Gbame after the demolition started. When I visited in November 2016, I met Magdalene Aiyefoju. She is a now-homeless woman whose surname means, "the world is blind." Magdalene's son Basil was one of over 20 people who were shot, drowned or presumed dead in that land grab. Standing outside her shelter, I saw the two white-sand football fields where Basil used to play. Spread all around us were the ruins of schools, churches, a primary health center, shops, thousands of homes. Young children enthusiastically helped to put up shelters, and about 5,000 of the residents, with nowhere else to go, simply stayed put. And then in April, state security personnel came back. This time, they cleared the community out completely, with beatings, bullets and fire. As I speak, there are construction crews preparing Otodo Gbame's beaches for anyone who can afford a multi-million-dollar view. The new development is called "Periwinkle Estate." Forced evictions are incredibly violent and, of course, unconstitutional. And yet, they happen so often in so many of our cities, because the first thing we are taught to forget about poor people is that they are people. We believe that a home is a thing a person absolutely has a right to, unless the person is poor and the home is built a certain way in a certain neighborhood. But there is no single definition of the word "home." After all, what is a slum besides an organic response to acute housing deficits and income inequality? And what is a shanty if not a person making a home for themselves against all odds? Slums are an imperfect housing solution, but they are also prime examples of the innovation, adaptability and resilience at the foundation — and the heart — of every functional city. You don't need to be the new Dubai when you're already Lagos. (Applause) We have our own identity, our own rhythm, and as anyone who knows Lagos can tell you, poor Lagosians are very often the source of the city's character. Without its poor, Lagos would not be known for its music or its endless energy or even the fact that you can buy an ice cold drink or a puppy through your car window. (Laughter) The conditions that cause us to define certain neighborhoods as slums can be effectively improved, but not without recognizing the humanity and the agency of the people living in them. In Lagos, where public goods are rarely publicly available, slum dwellers are often at the forefront of innovating solutions. After being disconnected from the grid for months because the power company couldn't figure out how to collect bills, one settlement designed a system that collectivized remittances and got everyone cheaper rates into the bargain. Another settlement created a reform program that hires local bad boys as security. They know every trick and every hideout, so now troublemakers are more likely to get caught and reported to police and fewer of the youth end up engaging in criminal activity. Yet another settlement recently completed a flood-safe, eco-friendly communal toilet system. Models like these are being adopted across Lagos. Informal settlements are incorrectly named as the problem. In fact, the real problems are the factors that create them, like the entrenchment of poverty, social exclusion and state failures. When our governments frame slums as threats in order to justify violent land grabs or forced evictions, they're counting on those of us who live in formal housing to tacitly and ignorantly agree with them. Rather, we must remind them that governments exist to serve not only those who build and live in luxury homes, but also those who clean and guard them. Our — (Applause) our realities may differ, but our rights don't. The Lagos state government, like far too many on our continent, pays lip service to ideas of inclusion, while acting as though progress can only be achieved by the erasure, exploitation and even elimination of groups it considers expendable. People living with disabilities who hawk or beg on Lagos streets are rounded up, extorted and detained. Women in low-income neighborhoods are picked up and charged with prostitution, regardless of what they actually do for a living. Gay citizens are scapegoated to distract from real political problems. But people, like cities, are resilient, and no amount of legislation or intimidation or violence can fully eliminate any of us. Prostitutes, women and women who work as prostitutes still haven't gone extinct, despite centuries of active suppression. Queer Africans continue to exist, even though queerness is now criminalized in most parts of the continent. And I'm fairly certain that poor people don't generally tend to just disappear because they've been stripped of everything they have. We are all already here, and that answers the question of whether or not we belong. When those fisherpeople started to sail down the lagoon in search of new homes, it could not have occurred to them that the city that would rise up around them would one day insist that they do not belong in it. I like to believe that my grandfather, in mapping new frontiers for Lagos, was trying to open it up to make room for other people to be welcomed by the city in the same way that he was. On my way here, my grandma called me to remind me how proud she was, how proud [my grandfather] and my mother would have been. I am their dreams come true. But there is no reason why their dreams — or mine, for that matter — are allowed to come true while those of others are turned to nightmares. And lest we forget: the minimum requirement for a dream is a safe place to lay your head. It is too late now for Basil, but not for Magdalene, not for the hundreds of thousands, the millions still under threat in Lagos or any of our cities. The world does not have to remain blind to the suffering that is created when we deny people's humanity, or even to the incredible potential for growth that exists when we recognize and value all contributions. We must hold our governments and ourselves accountable for keeping our shared cities safe for everyone in them, because the only cities worth building — indeed, the only futures worth dreaming of — are those that include all of us, no matter who we are or how we make homes for ourselves. Thank you. (Applause) |
How our friendship survives our opposing politics | null | TEDxMileHigh | Caitlin Quattromani: The election of 2016 felt different. Political conversations with our family and friends uncovered a level of polarization that many of us had not previously experienced. People who we always thought were reasonable and intelligent seemed like strangers. We said to ourselves, "How could you think that? I thought you were smart." Lauran Arledge: Caitlin and I met in the summer of 2011, and we bonded around being working moms and trying to keep our very energetic boys busy. And we soon found out we had almost everything in common. From our love of Colorado to our love of sushi, there wasn't much we didn't agree on. We also discovered that we share a deep love of this country and feel a responsibility to be politically active. But no one's perfect — (Laughter) and I soon found out two disappointing things about Caitlin. First, she hates camping. CQ: I think camping is the worst. LA: So there would not be any joint camping trips in our future. The second thing is that she's politically active all right — as a conservative. CQ: I may hate camping, but I love politics. I listen to conservative talk radio just about every day, and I've volunteered for a few different conservative political campaigns. LA: And I'd say I'm a little to the left, like all the way to the left. (Laughter) I've always been interested in politics. I was a political science major, and I worked as a community organizer and on a congressional campaign. CQ: So as Lauran and I were getting to know each other, it was right in the middle of that 2012 presidential campaign, and most of our early political conversations were really just based in jokes and pranks. So as an example, I would change Lauran's computer screen saver to a picture of Mitt Romney, or she would put an Obama campaign magnet on the back of my car. (Laughter) LA: Car, not minivan. CQ: But over time, those conversations grew more serious and really became a core of our friendship. And somewhere along the line, we decided we didn't want to have any topic be off limits for discussion, even if those topics pushed us way outside of our friendship comfort zone. LA: And so to most of us, political conversations are a zero-sum game. There's a winner and there's a loser. We go for the attack and we spot a weakness in someone's argument. And here's the important part: we tend to take every comment or opinion that's expressed as a personal affront to our own values and beliefs. But what if changed the way we think about these conversations? What if, in these heated moments, we chose dialogue over debate? When we engage in dialogue, we flip the script. We replace our ego and our desire to win with curiosity, empathy and a desire to learn. Instead of coming from a place of judgment, we are genuinely interested in the other person's experiences, their values and their concerns. CQ: You make it sound so simple, Lauran. But getting to that place of true dialogue is hard, especially when we're talking about politics. It is so easy to get emotionally fired up about issues that we're passionate about, and we can let our ego get in the way of truly hearing the other person's perspective. And in this crazy political climate we're in right now, unfortunately, we're seeing an extreme result of those heated political conversations, to the point where people are willing to walk away from their relationships. In fact, Rasmussen released a poll earlier this year that said 40 percent of people reported that the 2016 election negatively impacted a personal relationship, and the Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience tells us that people tend to feel their way to their beliefs rather than using reasoning, and that when reason and emotion collide, it's emotion that invariably wins. So no wonder it's hard to talk about these issues. LA: And look, we're just two regular friends who happen to think very differently about politics and the role that government should play in our lives. And I know we were all taught not to talk about politics because it's not polite, but we need to be able to talk about it, because it's important to us and it's a part of who we are. CQ: We have chosen to avoid political debate and instead engage in dialogue in order to maintain what we fondly call our bipartisan friendship. (Laughter) LA: And this election and all of the craziness that has followed has given us several opportunities to practice this skill. (Laughter) Let's start with January and the Women's March. At this point, you can probably guess which one of us participated. (Laughter) CQ: Oh, the Women's March. I was annoyed and irritated that entire day, really because of two things. Number one, the name "Women's March." As a conservative woman, the march's platform of issues didn't represent me, and that's OK, but hearing it talked about as this demonstration of sisterhood and solidarity for all women didn't ring true for me. The other piece was the timing of the event, the fact that it was the day after the presidential inauguration. It felt like we weren't even giving the new administration to actually do anything, good or bad, before people felt the need to demonstrate against it. LA: And under normal circumstances, I would agree with Caitlin. I think an administration does deserve the benefit of the doubt. But in this case, I was marching to show my concern that a man with such a poor track record with women and other groups had been elected as president. I had to be part of the collective voice that wanted to send a clear message to the new president that we did not accept or condone his behavior or rhetoric during the election. CQ: So I'm already feeling kind of aggravated, and then I see this Facebook from Lauran pop up in my social media feed. (Laughter) Seeing Lauran's sons at the march and holding signs took it to a new level for me, and not in a good way, because I know these boys, I love these boys, and I didn't feel they were old enough to understand what the march stood for. I didn't understand why Lauran would choose to have them participate in that way, and I assumed it wasn't a choice that the boys made for themselves. But I also know Lauran. You're an incredible mom who would never exploit your boys in any way, so I had to stop and check myself. I had a decision to make. I could take the easy way out and just choose not to say anything to her, and instead just kind of simmer in my frustration, or I could ask her to learn more about her motivations. LA: And I shared with Caitlin that we actually started talking about the March weeks before we participated. And my boys were curious as to why the event was being organized, and this led to some very interesting family conversations. We talked about how in this country, we have the right and the privilege to demonstrate against something we don't agree with, and my husband shared with them why he thought it was so important that men joined the Women's March. But the most significant reason we marched as a family is that it was a way for us to honor my parents' legacy. They spent their careers working to defend the rights of some of our most vulnerable citizens, and they passed these values down to me and my brother, and we want to do the same with our sons. CQ: After talking to Lauran, I really understood not only why she felt it was so important to march, but why she had her boys with her. And frankly, my assumptions were wrong. It was the boys who wanted to march after they talked about the issues as a family. But what's most important about this example is to think about the alternative. Had Lauran and I not talked about it, I would have been annoyed with her, and it could have resulted in an undercurrent of disrespect in our friendship. But by asking Lauran questions, it allowed us to use dialogue to get to a place of true understanding. Now, to be clear, our conversation didn't really change my mind about how I felt about the March, but it absolutely changed my thinking around why she brought her boys with her. And for both of us, that dialogue allowed us to understand each other's perspective about the Women's March even though we disagreed. LA: The second topic that challenged our ability to engage in dialogue was around my need to understand how Caitlin could vote for Trump. (Laughter) Caitlin is a successful professional woman who is deeply caring and compassionate, and the Caitlin I know would never excuse any man from talking about women the way that Trump did during the campaign. It was hard for me to reconcile these two things in my mind. How could you overlook the things that were said? CQ: So I'm guessing I may not be the only one here that thought we didn't have the best choices for the presidential election last year. (Laughter) The Republican candidate who I did support didn't make it out of the primary, so when it came time to vote, I had a decision to make. And you're right, there were some terrible things that came out during the Trump campaign, so much so that I almost decided to just abstain rather than voting for president, something I had never even considered doing before. But ultimately, I did vote for Donald Trump, and for me it was really a vote for party over person, especially recognizing how important that presidential pick is on influencing our judicial branch. But I shared with Lauran it was a decision I really wrestled with, and not one that I made lightly. LA: And so after our conversation, I was struck by a few things. First, I had fallen victim to my own confirmation bias. Because of my strong feelings about Trump, I had given all Trump voters the same attributes, and none of them forgiving. (Laughter) But knowing Caitlin, I started to ask questions. What were Trump voters really concerned about? Under all the divisive language, what was really going on? What could we learn about ourselves and our country from this unlikely event? I also learned that we shared a deep disappointment in this election, and that we have growing concerns about our two-party political system. But the most important thing about this conversation is that it happened at all. Without an open and honest dialogue between the two of us, this election would have been the elephant in the room for the next four years, pun intended. (Laughter) CQ: So, look — (Applause) So, look — we know it takes work to get past the difficult, frustrating and sometimes emotional parts of having discussions about issues like the Women's March or why your friend may have voted for a candidate that you can't stand. But we need to have these conversations. Our ability to move past political debate into true dialogue is a critical skill we should all be focused on right now, especially with the people that we care about the most. LA: And it's not just as adults that we need to bottle this behavior. It's critical that we do it for our children as well. My sons were inundated with this election. We were listening to the news in the morning, and they were having conversations with their friends at school. I was concerned that they were picking up so much polarizing misinformation, and they were growing really fearful of a Trump presidency. Then one day, after the election, I was taking my sons to school, and my younger son, completely out of the blue, said, "Mom, we don't know anybody who voted for Trump, right?" (Laughter) And I paused and I took a deep breath. "Yes, we do." (Laughter) "The Quattromanis." And his response was so great. He kind of got this confused look on his face, and he said ... "But we love them." (Laughter) And I answered, "Yes, we do." (Laughter) And then he said, "Why would they vote for him?" And I remember stopping and thinking that it was really important how I answered this question. Somehow, I had to honor our own family values and show respect for our friends. So I finally said, "They think that's the right direction for this country." And before I had even gotten the whole sentence out, he had moved on to the soccer game he was going to play at recess. CQ: So life with boys. (Laughter) So what Lauran and I have discovered through our bipartisan friendship is the possibility that lives in dialogue. We have chosen to be genuinely curious about each other's ideas and perspectives and to be willing to listen to one another even when we disagree. And by putting aside our ego and our preconceived ideas, we've opened ourselves up to limitless learning. And perhaps most importantly for our relationship, we have made the commitment to each other that our friendship is way more important than either of us being right or winning a conversation about politics. So today, we're asking you to have a conversation. Talk to someone outside of your political party who might challenge your thinking. Make an effort to engage with someone with whom you might typically avoid a political conversation. But remember, the goal isn't to win, the goal is to listen and to understand and to be open to learning something new. LA: So let's go back to election night. As the polls were closing and it became clear that Trump was going to be our new president, I was devastated. I was sad, I was confused, and I'll be honest — I was angry. And then just before midnight, I received this text message from Caitlin. [I know this is a hard night for you guys. We are thinking of you. Love you.] And where there so easy could have been weeks or months of awkwardness and unspoken hostility, there was this — an offering of empathy rooted in friendship. And I knew, in that moment, that we would make it through this. CQ: So we must find a way to engage in meaningful conversations that are going to move us forward as a nation, and we can no longer wait for our elected officials to elevate our national discourse. LA: The challenges ahead are going to require all of us to participate in a deeper and more meaningful way ... and it starts with each one of us building connection through dialogue — in our relationships, our communities and as a country. Thank you. (Applause) |
What really motivates people to be honest in business | {0: "Alexander Wagner balances two passions: the thrill of seeking knowledge about fundamentals of human behavior for knowledge's sake, and the desire to apply insights in the real world and to improve the workings of markets and organizations."} | TEDxZurich | How many companies have you interacted with today? Well, you got up in the morning, took a shower, washed your hair, used a hair dryer, ate breakfast — ate cereals, fruit, yogurt, whatever — had coffee — tea. You took public transport to come here, or maybe used your private car. You interacted with the company that you work for or that you own. You interacted with your clients, your customers, and so on and so forth. I'm pretty sure there are at least seven companies you've interacted with today. Let me tell you a stunning statistic. One out of seven large, public corporations commit fraud every year. This is a US academic study that looks at US companies — I have no reason to believe that it's different in Europe. This is a study that looks at both detected and undetected fraud using statistical methods. This is not petty fraud. These frauds cost the shareholders of these companies, and therefore society, on the order of 380 billion dollars per year. We can all think of some examples, right? The car industry's secrets aren't quite so secret anymore. Fraud has become a feature, not a bug, of the financial services industry. That's not me who's claiming that, that's the president of the American Finance Association who stated that in his presidential address. That's a huge problem if you think about, especially, an economy like Switzerland, which relies so much on the trust put into its financial industry. On the other hand, there are six out of seven companies who actually remain honest despite all temptations to start engaging in fraud. There are whistle-blowers like Michael Woodford, who blew the whistle on Olympus. These whistle-blowers risk their careers, their friendships, to bring out the truth about their companies. There are journalists like Anna Politkovskaya who risk even their lives to report human rights violations. She got killed — every year, around 100 journalists get killed because of their conviction to bring out the truth. So in my talk today, I want to share with you some insights I've obtained and learned in the last 10 years of conducting research in this. I'm a researcher, a scientist working with economists, financial economists, ethicists, neuroscientists, lawyers and others trying to understand what makes humans tick, and how can we address this issue of fraud in corporations and therefore contribute to the improvement of the world. I want to start by sharing with you two very distinct visions of how people behave. First, meet Adam Smith, founding father of modern economics. His basic idea was that if everybody behaves in their own self-interests, that's good for everybody in the end. Self-interest isn't a narrowly defined concept just for your immediate utility. It has a long-run implication. Let's think about that. Think about this dog here. That might be us. There's this temptation — I apologize to all vegetarians, but — (Laughter) Dogs do like the bratwurst. (Laughter) Now, the straight-up, self-interested move here is to go for that. So my friend Adam here might jump up, get the sausage and thereby ruin all this beautiful tableware. But that's not what Adam Smith meant. He didn't mean disregard all consequences — to the contrary. He would have thought, well, there may be negative consequences, for example, the owner might be angry with the dog and the dog, anticipating that, might not behave in this way. That might be us, weighing the benefits and costs of our actions. How does that play out? Well, many of you, I'm sure, have in your companies, especially if it's a large company, a code of conduct. And then if you behave according to that code of conduct, that improves your chances of getting a bonus payment. And on the other hand, if you disregard it, then there are higher chances of not getting your bonus or its being diminished. In other words, this is a very economic motivation of trying to get people to be more honest, or more aligned with the corporation's principles. Similarly, reputation is a very powerful economic force, right? We try to build a reputation, maybe for being honest, because then people trust us more in the future. Right? Adam Smith talked about the baker who's not producing good bread out of his benevolence for those people who consume the bread, but because he wants to sell more future bread. In my research, we find, for example, at the University of Zurich, that Swiss banks who get caught up in media, and in the context, for example, of tax evasion, of tax fraud, have bad media coverage. They lose net new money in the future and therefore make lower profits. That's a very powerful reputational force. Benefits and costs. Here's another viewpoint of the world. Meet Immanuel Kant, 18th-century German philosopher superstar. He developed this notion that independent of the consequences, some actions are just right and some are just wrong. It's just wrong to lie, for example. So, meet my friend Immanuel here. He knows that the sausage is very tasty, but he's going to turn away because he's a good dog. He knows it's wrong to jump up and risk ruining all this beautiful tableware. If you believe that people are motivated like that, then all the stuff about incentives, all the stuff about code of conduct and bonus systems and so on, doesn't make a whole lot of sense. People are motivated by different values perhaps. So, what are people actually motivated by? These two gentlemen here have perfect hairdos, but they give us very different views of the world. What do we do with this? Well, I'm an economist and we conduct so-called experiments to address this issue. We strip away facts which are confusing in reality. Reality is so rich, there is so much going on, it's almost impossible to know what drives people's behavior really. So let's do a little experiment together. Imagine the following situation. You're in a room alone, not like here. There's a five-franc coin like the one I'm holding up right now in front of you. Here are your instructions: toss the coin four times, and then on a computer terminal in front of you, enter the number of times tails came up. This is the situation. Here's the rub. For every time that you announce that you had a tails throw, you get paid five francs. So if you say I had two tails throws, you get paid 10 francs. If you say you had zero, you get paid zero francs. If you say, "I had four tails throws," then you get paid 20 francs. It's anonymous, nobody's watching what you're doing, and you get paid that money anonymously. I've got two questions for you. (Laughter) You know what's coming now, right? First, how would you behave in that situation? The second, look to your left and look to your right — (Laughter) and think about how the person sitting next to you might behave in that situation. We did this experiment for real. We did it at the Manifesta art exhibition that took place here in Zurich recently, not with students in the lab at the university but with the real population, like you guys. First, a quick reminder of stats. If I throw the coin four times and it's a fair coin, then the probability that it comes up four times tails is 6.25 percent. And I hope you can intuitively see that the probability that all four of them are tails is much lower than if two of them are tails, right? Here are the specific numbers. Here's what happened. People did this experiment for real. Around 30 to 35 percent of people said, "Well, I had four tails throws." That's extremely unlikely. (Laughter) But the really amazing thing here, perhaps to an economist, is there are around 65 percent of people who did not say I had four tails throws, even though in that situation, nobody's watching you, the only consequence that's in place is you get more money if you say four than less. You leave 20 francs on the table by announcing zero. I don't know whether the other people all were honest or whether they also said a little bit higher or lower than what they did because it's anonymous. We only observed the distribution. But what I can tell you — and here's another coin toss. There you go, it's tails. (Laughter) Don't check, OK? (Laughter) What I can tell you is that not everybody behaved like Adam Smith would have predicted. So what does that leave us with? Well, it seems people are motivated by certain intrinsic values and in our research, we look at this. We look at the idea that people have so-called protected values. A protected value isn't just any value. A protected value is a value where you're willing to pay a price to uphold that value. You're willing to pay a price to withstand the temptation to give in. And the consequence is you feel better if you earn money in a way that's consistent with your values. Let me show you this again in the metaphor of our beloved dog here. If we succeed in getting the sausage without violating our values, then the sausage tastes better. That's what our research shows. If, on the other hand, we do so — if we get the sausage and in doing so we actually violate values, we value the sausage less. Quantitatively, that's quite powerful. We can measure these protected values, for example, by a survey measure. Simple, nine-item survey that's quite predictive in these experiments. If you think about the average of the population and then there's a distribution around it — people are different, we all are different. People who have a set of protected values that's one standard deviation above the average, they discount money they receive by lying by about 25 percent. That means a dollar received when lying is worth to them only 75 cents without any incentives you put in place for them to behave honestly. It's their intrinsic motivation. By the way, I'm not a moral authority. I'm not saying I have all these beautiful values, right? But I'm interested in how people behave and how we can leverage that richness in human nature to actually improve the workings of our organizations. So there are two very, very different visions here. On the one hand, you can appeal to benefits and costs and try to get people to behave according to them. On the other hand, you can select people who have the values and the desirable characteristics, of course — competencies that go in line with your organization. I do not yet know where these protected values really come from. Is it nurture or is it nature? What I can tell you is that the distribution looks pretty similar for men and women. It looks pretty similar for those who had studied economics or those who had studied psychology. It looks even pretty similar around different age categories among adults. But I don't know yet how this develops over a lifetime. That will be the subject of future research. The idea I want to leave you with is it's all right to appeal to incentives. I'm an economist; I certainly believe in the fact that incentives work. But do think about selecting the right people rather than having people and then putting incentives in place. Selecting the right people with the right values may go a long way to saving a lot of trouble and a lot of money in your organizations. In other words, it will pay off to put people first. Thank you. (Applause) |
There's more to life than being happy | {0: 'In her book "The Power of Meaning," Emily Esfahani Smith rounds up the latest research --\r\n and the stories of fascinating people she interviewed -- to argue that the search for meaning is far more fulfilling than the pursuit of personal happiness.'} | TED2017 | I used to think the whole purpose of life was pursuing happiness. Everyone said the path to happiness was success, so I searched for that ideal job, that perfect boyfriend, that beautiful apartment. But instead of ever feeling fulfilled, I felt anxious and adrift. And I wasn't alone; my friends — they struggled with this, too. Eventually, I decided to go to graduate school for positive psychology to learn what truly makes people happy. But what I discovered there changed my life. The data showed that chasing happiness can make people unhappy. And what really struck me was this: the suicide rate has been rising around the world, and it recently reached a 30-year high in America. Even though life is getting objectively better by nearly every conceivable standard, more people feel hopeless, depressed and alone. There's an emptiness gnawing away at people, and you don't have to be clinically depressed to feel it. Sooner or later, I think we all wonder: Is this all there is? And according to the research, what predicts this despair is not a lack of happiness. It's a lack of something else, a lack of having meaning in life. But that raised some questions for me. Is there more to life than being happy? And what's the difference between being happy and having meaning in life? Many psychologists define happiness as a state of comfort and ease, feeling good in the moment. Meaning, though, is deeper. The renowned psychologist Martin Seligman says meaning comes from belonging to and serving something beyond yourself and from developing the best within you. Our culture is obsessed with happiness, but I came to see that seeking meaning is the more fulfilling path. And the studies show that people who have meaning in life, they're more resilient, they do better in school and at work, and they even live longer. So this all made me wonder: How can we each live more meaningfully? To find out, I spent five years interviewing hundreds of people and reading through thousands of pages of psychology, neuroscience and philosophy. Bringing it all together, I found that there are what I call four pillars of a meaningful life. And we can each create lives of meaning by building some or all of these pillars in our lives. The first pillar is belonging. Belonging comes from being in relationships where you're valued for who you are intrinsically and where you value others as well. But some groups and relationships deliver a cheap form of belonging; you're valued for what you believe, for who you hate, not for who you are. True belonging springs from love. It lives in moments among individuals, and it's a choice — you can choose to cultivate belonging with others. Here's an example. Each morning, my friend Jonathan buys a newspaper from the same street vendor in New York. They don't just conduct a transaction, though. They take a moment to slow down, talk, and treat each other like humans. But one time, Jonathan didn't have the right change, and the vendor said, "Don't worry about it." But Jonathan insisted on paying, so he went to the store and bought something he didn't need to make change. But when he gave the money to the vendor, the vendor drew back. He was hurt. He was trying to do something kind, but Jonathan had rejected him. I think we all reject people in small ways like this without realizing it. I do. I'll walk by someone I know and barely acknowledge them. I'll check my phone when someone's talking to me. These acts devalue others. They make them feel invisible and unworthy. But when you lead with love, you create a bond that lifts each of you up. For many people, belonging is the most essential source of meaning, those bonds to family and friends. For others, the key to meaning is the second pillar: purpose. Now, finding your purpose is not the same thing as finding that job that makes you happy. Purpose is less about what you want than about what you give. A hospital custodian told me her purpose is healing sick people. Many parents tell me, "My purpose is raising my children." The key to purpose is using your strengths to serve others. Of course, for many of us, that happens through work. That's how we contribute and feel needed. But that also means that issues like disengagement at work, unemployment, low labor force participation — these aren't just economic problems, they're existential ones, too. Without something worthwhile to do, people flounder. Of course, you don't have to find purpose at work, but purpose gives you something to live for, some "why" that drives you forward. The third pillar of meaning is also about stepping beyond yourself, but in a completely different way: transcendence. Transcendent states are those rare moments when you're lifted above the hustle and bustle of daily life, your sense of self fades away, and you feel connected to a higher reality. For one person I talked to, transcendence came from seeing art. For another person, it was at church. For me, I'm a writer, and it happens through writing. Sometimes I get so in the zone that I lose all sense of time and place. These transcendent experiences can change you. One study had students look up at 200-feet-tall eucalyptus trees for one minute. But afterwards they felt less self-centered, and they even behaved more generously when given the chance to help someone. Belonging, purpose, transcendence. Now, the fourth pillar of meaning, I've found, tends to surprise people. The fourth pillar is storytelling, the story you tell yourself about yourself. Creating a narrative from the events of your life brings clarity. It helps you understand how you became you. But we don't always realize that we're the authors of our stories and can change the way we're telling them. Your life isn't just a list of events. You can edit, interpret and retell your story, even as you're constrained by the facts. I met a young man named Emeka, who'd been paralyzed playing football. After his injury, Emeka told himself, "My life was great playing football, but now look at me." People who tell stories like this — "My life was good. Now it's bad." — tend to be more anxious and depressed. And that was Emeka for a while. But with time, he started to weave a different story. His new story was, "Before my injury, my life was purposeless. I partied a lot and was a pretty selfish guy. But my injury made me realize I could be a better man." That edit to his story changed Emeka's life. After telling the new story to himself, Emeka started mentoring kids, and he discovered what his purpose was: serving others. The psychologist Dan McAdams calls this a "redemptive story," where the bad is redeemed by the good. People leading meaningful lives, he's found, tend to tell stories about their lives defined by redemption, growth and love. But what makes people change their stories? Some people get help from a therapist, but you can do it on your own, too, just by reflecting on your life thoughtfully, how your defining experiences shaped you, what you lost, what you gained. That's what Emeka did. You won't change your story overnight; it could take years and be painful. After all, we've all suffered, and we all struggle. But embracing those painful memories can lead to new insights and wisdom, to finding that good that sustains you. Belonging, purpose, transcendence, storytelling: those are the four pillars of meaning. When I was younger, I was lucky enough to be surrounded by all of the pillars. My parents ran a Sufi meetinghouse from our home in Montreal. Sufism is a spiritual practice associated with the whirling dervishes and the poet Rumi. Twice a week, Sufis would come to our home to meditate, drink Persian tea, and share stories. Their practice also involved serving all of creation through small acts of love, which meant being kind even when people wronged you. But it gave them a purpose: to rein in the ego. Eventually, I left home for college and without the daily grounding of Sufism in my life, I felt unmoored. And I started searching for those things that make life worth living. That's what set me on this journey. Looking back, I now realize that the Sufi house had a real culture of meaning. The pillars were part of the architecture, and the presence of the pillars helped us all live more deeply. Of course, the same principle applies in other strong communities as well — good ones and bad ones. Gangs, cults: these are cultures of meaning that use the pillars and give people something to live and die for. But that's exactly why we as a society must offer better alternatives. We need to build these pillars within our families and our institutions to help people become their best selves. But living a meaningful life takes work. It's an ongoing process. As each day goes by, we're constantly creating our lives, adding to our story. And sometimes we can get off track. Whenever that happens to me, I remember a powerful experience I had with my father. Several months after I graduated from college, my dad had a massive heart attack that should have killed him. He survived, and when I asked him what was going through his mind as he faced death, he said all he could think about was needing to live so he could be there for my brother and me, and this gave him the will to fight for life. When he went under anesthesia for emergency surgery, instead of counting backwards from 10, he repeated our names like a mantra. He wanted our names to be the last words he spoke on earth if he died. My dad is a carpenter and a Sufi. It's a humble life, but a good life. Lying there facing death, he had a reason to live: love. His sense of belonging within his family, his purpose as a dad, his transcendent meditation, repeating our names — these, he says, are the reasons why he survived. That's the story he tells himself. That's the power of meaning. Happiness comes and goes. But when life is really good and when things are really bad, having meaning gives you something to hold on to. Thank you. (Applause) |
A forgotten ancient grain that could help Africa prosper | {0: 'Pierre Thiam shares the cuisine of his home in Senegal through global restaurants and highly praised cookbooks.'} | TEDGlobal 2017 | I was born and raised in Dakar, Senegal, and through a combination of accidents and cosmic justice, became a chef in the US. (Laughter) When I first arrived in New York, I began working in these restaurants — different types of restaurants — from French bistro to Italian, global ethnic to modern American. At the time, New York was already well-established as a food capital of the world. However ... with the exception of a few West African and Ethiopian mom-and-pop eateries, there was no such thing as African cuisine in the entire city. Early in my life, I was influenced by Senegal's first president, Léopold Sédar Senghor, nicknamed, "the poet president," who talked about a new humanism, a universal civilization, in which all cultures would come together around a communal table as equals, each bringing its own beautiful contribution to share. He called it "the rendezvous of giving and receiving." That concept resonated with me, and it has guided my career path. After years of working in restaurants, I yearned for my work to have a deeper impact that would go beyond the last meal I had served. I wanted to give back, both to New York — the city that allowed me the opportunity to follow my calling — but also to my origins and ancestors in Senegal. I wanted to contribute to that universal civilization Senghor had described. But I didn't know how to make a measurable impact as a cook and writer. While I was writing my first cookbook, I often traveled to different regions of Senegal for research. During one of those trips, in the remote, southeast region of Kédougou I rediscovered an ancient grain called fonio that had all but disappeared from the urban Senegalese diet. It turns out that fonio had been cultivated for more than five thousand years and is probably the oldest cultivated cereal in Africa. Once a popular grain on much of the continent, fonio was grown all the way to ancient Egypt, where archaeologists found grains inside pyramids' burial grounds. Today it is mostly cultivated in the western part of the Sahel region, from Senegal to Mali, Burkina Faso, Togo, Nigeria. The Sahel region is that semiarid area south of the Sahara desert that extends from the Atlantic in the west to the Red Sea in the east. I became more interested in this grain that was deemed worth taking to the afterlife by early Egyptians. As I continued my research, I found out that fonio was actually — wherever it was cultivated — there was always some myth, or some superstition connected to it. The Dogon, another great culture in Mali, called it "po," or, "the seed of the universe." In that ancient culture's mythology, the entire universe sprouted from a seed of fonio. Aside from its purported mystical properties, fonio is a miracle grain in many aspects. It is nutritious, particularly rich in methionine and cysteine, two amino acids that are deficient in most other major grains: barley, rice or wheat to name a few. In addition, fonio cultivation is great for the environment. It tolerates poor soil and needs very little water, surviving where nothing else will grow. As a chef, what first struck me was its delicate taste and its versatility. Similar to couscous, fonio has a delicious, nutty and earthy flavor. It can be turned into salad, served as noodles, used in baking or simply as a substitute for any other grains in your favorite recipes. I am happy to share some of my fonio sushi and sweet potato sushi with some of you right now. (Audience) Oh! (Applause) And okra. (Audience murmurs) In Kédougou it is also nicknamed "ñamu buur," which means "food for royalty," and it's served for guests of honor. Located at the border with Guinea and Mali, Kédougou first strikes visitors with its stunning vistas and views of the Fouta Djallon Mountains. Sadly, it is also one of the poorest regions of Senegal. Because of desertification and lack of job prospects, much of Kédougou's young population has left. They chose the deadly path of migration in search of "better" opportunities. Often, they risk their lives trying to reach Europe. Some leave by crossing the Sahara desert. Others end up on inadequate wooden canoes in desperate attempts to reach Spain. According to a recent "Guardian" article, by 2020 more that 60 million people from sub-Saharan Africa are expected to migrate due to desertification. This is the biggest global wave of migration since the Second World War, and it's only set to grow. So far this year, more that 2,100 migrants have lost their lives on their way to Europe. This is the reality of Kédougou and of much of the Sahel today. Scary future, scarce food and no opportunities to change their situation. If life in your village weren't so precarious, if there was a way to having enough food to get by, or having a paying job — if you and your sisters didn't have to spend 30 percent of their waking hours fetching water, if conditions were just a little more hospitable ... could the solution be right here in our soil? Could bringing fonio to the rest of the world be the answer? Ancient grains are getting more popular, and sales of gluten-free items are growing in the US — 16.4 percent since 2013, making it a 23.3-billion-dollar industry. How could fonio partake in this market share? There are many challenges in turning fonio into food. Traditional processing is laborious and time-consuming, especially when compared to other grains. Well, thankfully, technology has evolved. And there are now machines that can process fonio in a more efficient way. And as a matter of fact, a few years ago, Sanoussi Diakité, a Senegalese engineer, won a Rolex prize for his invention of the first mechanized fonio processor. Today, such machines are making life much easier for producers around the whole Sahel region. Another challenge is the colonial mentality that what comes from the west is best. This tendency to look down on our own products and to see crops like fonio as simply "country peoples' food," therefore substandard, explains why even though we don't produce wheat in Senegal traditionally, it is far easier to find baguettes or croissants in the streets of Dakar than it is to find any fonio products. This same mindset popularized the overprocessed, leftover rice debris known as "broken rice," which was imported to Senegal from Indochina and introduced by the colonial French. Soon, broken rice became a key ingredient in our national dish, thiéboudienne, replacing our own traditional, more nutritious African rice, Oryza glaberrima. Ironically, the same African rice despised at home was hailed abroad. Indeed, during the Atlantic slave trade, this rice became a major crop in the Americas ... particularly in the Carolinas where it was nicknamed, "Carolina gold." But let's return to fonio. How can we turn its current status of "country-people food" into a world-class crop? Last year, a business partner and I secured a commitment from Whole Foods Market, the US's largest natural food store chain, to carry fonio. And we got a large American ingredient importer interested enough to send a team of executives to West Africa with us to explore the supply chain's viability. We found ourselves observing manual operations in remote locations with few controls over quality. So we started focusing on processing issues. We drew up a vision with a beneficial and commercially sustainable supply chain for fonio, and we connected ourselves with organizations that can help us achieve it. Walking backwards from the market, here is what it looks like. Imagine that fonio is consumed all across the globe as other popular ancient grains. Fonio touted on the levels of cereals, breads, nutrition bars, cookies, pastas, snacks — why not? It's easier to say than quinoa. (Laughter) (Applause) To get there, fonio needs to be readily available at a consistent quality for commercial users, such as food manufacturers and restaurant chains. That's the part we're missing. To make fonio available at a consistent quality for commercial use, you need a commercial-scale fonio mill that adheres to international quality standards. Currently, there is no such mill in the whole world, so in our vision, there is an African-owned and operated fonio mill that processes efficiently and in compliance with the requirements of multinational food companies. It is very difficult for the fonio producers today to sell and use fonio unless they devote a huge amount of time and energy in threshing, winnowing and husking it. In our vision, the mill will take on those tasks, allowing the producers to focus on farming rather than processing. There is untapped agricultural capacity in the Sahel, and all it takes is changing market conditions to activate that capacity. By relieving fonio producers of manual operations, the mill will free up their time and remove the production bottleneck that limits their output. And there are other benefits as well in using Sahel land for agriculture. More benefits, higher employment, climate change mitigation by reversing desertification and greater food security. Nice vision, right? Well, we are working towards getting it done. Last month we introduced fonio to shoppers in New York City and online, in a package that makes it attractive and desirable and accessible. (Applause) We are talking with operators and investors in West Africa about building a fonio mill. And most importantly, we have teamed with an NGO called SOS SAHEL to recruit, train and equip smallholders in the Sahel to increase their fonio production. Hunger levels are higher in sub-Saharan Africa than any other place in the world. The Sahel population is set to grow from 135 million to 340 million people. However, in that drought- and famine-prone region, fonio grows freely. This tiny grain may provide big answers, reasserting its Dogon name, "po," the seed of the universe, and taking us one step closer to the universal civilization. Thank you. (Applause) |
The real reason manufacturing jobs are disappearing | {0: 'Augie Picado is the country manager for UPS Mexico. '} | TED@UPS | When someone mentions Cuba, what do you think about? Classic, classic cars? Perhaps good cigars? Maybe you think of a famous baseball player. What about when somebody mentions North Korea? You think about those missile tests, maybe their notorious leader or his good friend, Dennis Rodman. (Laughter) One thing that likely doesn't come to mind is a vision of a country, an open economy, whose citizens have access to a wide range of affordable consumer products. I'm not here to argue how these countries got to where they are today. I simply want to use them as an example of countries and citizens who have been affected, negatively affected, by a trade policy that restricts imports and protects local industries. Recently we've heard a number of countries talk about restricting imports and protecting their local, domestic industries. Now, this may sound fine in a sound bite, but what it really is is protectionism. We heard a lot about this during the 2016 presidential election. We heard about it during the Brexit debates and most recently during the French elections. In fact, it's been a really important topic being talked about around the world, and many aspiring political leaders are running on platforms positioning protectionism as a good thing. Now, I could see why they think protectionism is good, because sometimes it seems like trade is unfair. Some have blamed trade for some of the problems we've been having here at home in the US. For years we've been hearing about the loss of high-paying US manufacturing jobs. Many think that manufacturing is declining in the US because companies are moving their operations offshore to markets with lower-cost labor like China, Mexico and Vietnam. They also think trade agreements sometimes are unfair, like NAFTA and the Trans-Pacific Partnership, because these trade agreements allow companies to reimport those cheaply produced goods back into the US and other countries from where the jobs were taken. So it kind of feels like the exporters win and the importers lose. Now, the reality is output in the manufacturing sector in the US is actually growing, but we are losing jobs. We're losing lots of them. In fact, from 2000 to 2010, 5.7 million manufacturing jobs were lost. But they're not being lost for the reasons you might think. Mike Johnson in Toledo, Ohio didn't lose his jobs at the factory to Miguel Sanchez in Monterrey, Mexico. No. Mike lost his job to a machine. 87 percent of lost manufacturing jobs have been eliminated because we've made improvements in our own productivity through automation. So that means that one out of 10 lost manufacturing jobs was due to offshoring. Now, this is not just a US phenomenon. No. In fact, automation is spreading to every production line in every country around the world. But look, I get it: if you just lost your job and then you read in the newspaper that your old company just struck up a deal with China, it's easy to think you were just replaced in a one-for-one deal. When I hear stories like this, I think that what people picture is that trade happens between only two countries. Manufacturers in one country produce products and they export them to consumers in other countries, and it feels like the manufacturing countries win and the importing countries lose. Well, reality's a little bit different. I'm a supply chain professional, and I live and work in Mexico. And I work in the middle of a highly connected network of manufacturers all collaborating from around the world to produce many of the products we use today. What I see from my front-row seat in Mexico City actually looks more like this. And this is a more accurate depiction of what trade really looks like. I've had the pleasure of being able to see how many different products are manufactured, from golf clubs to laptop computers to internet servers, automobiles and even airplanes. And believe me, none of it happens in a straight line. Let me give you an example. A few months ago, I was touring the manufacturing plant of a multinational aerospace company in Querétaro, Mexico, and the VP of logistics points out a completed tail assembly. It turns out the tail assemblies are assembled from panels that are manufactured in France, and they're assembled in Mexico using components imported from the US. When those tail assemblies are done, they're exported via truck to Canada to their primary assembly plant where they come together with thousands of other parts, like the wings and the seats and the little shades over the little windows, all coming in to become a part of a new airplane. Think about it. These new airplanes, before they even take their first flight, they have more stamps in their passports than Angelina Jolie. Now, this approach to processing goes on all around the world to manufacture many of the products we use every day, from skin cream to airplanes. When you go home tonight, take a look in your house. You might be surprised to find a label that looks like this one: "Manufactured in the USA from US and foreign parts." Economist Michael Porter described what's going on here best. Many decades ago, he said that it's most beneficial for a country to focus on producing the products it can produce most efficiently and trading for the rest. So what he's talking about here is shared production, and efficiency is the name of the game. You've probably seen an example of this at home or at work. Let's take a look at an example. Think about how your house was built or your kitchen renovated. Typically, there's a general contractor who is responsible for coordinating the efforts of all the different contractors: an architect to draw the plans, an earth-moving company to dig the foundation, a plumber, a carpenter and so on. So why doesn't the general contractor pick just one company to do all the work, like, say, the architect? Because this is silly. The general contractor selects experts because it takes years to learn and master how to do each of the tasks it takes to build a house or renovate a kitchen, some of them requiring special training. Think about it: Would you want your architect to install your toilet? Of course not. So let's apply this process to the corporate world. Companies today focus on manufacturing what they produce best and most efficiently, and they trade for everything else. So this means they rely on a global, interconnected, interdependent network of manufacturers to produce these products. In fact, that network is so interconnected it's almost impossible to dismantle and produce products in just one country. Let's take a look at the interconnected web we saw a few moments ago, and let's focus on just one strand between the US and Mexico. The Wilson Institute says that shared production represents 40 percent of the half a trillion dollars in trade between the US and Mexico. That's about 200 billion dollars, or the same as the GDP for Portugal. So let's just imagine that the US decides to impose a 20 percent border tax on all imports from Mexico. OK, fine. But do you think Mexico is just going to stand by and let that happen? No. No way. So in retaliation, they impose a similar tax on all goods being imported from the US, and a little game of tit-for-tat ensues, and 20 percent — just imagine that 20 percent duties are added to every good, product, product component crossing back and forth across the border, and you could be looking at more than a 40 percent increase in duties, or 80 billion dollars. Now, don't kid yourself, these costs are going to be passed along to you and to me. Now, let's think about what impact that might have on some of the products, or the prices of the products, that we buy every day. So if a 30 percent increase in duties were actually passed along, we would be looking at some pretty important increases in prices. A Lincoln MKZ would go from 37,000 dollars to 48,000. And the price of a Sharp 60-inch HDTV would go from 898 dollars to 1,167 dollars. And the price of a 16-ounce jar of CVS skin moisturizer would go from 13 dollars to 17 dollars. Now, remember, this is only looking at one strand of the production chain between the US and Mexico, so multiply this out across all of the strands. The impact could be considerable. Now, just think about this: even if we were able to dismantle this network and produce products in just one country, which by the way is easier said than done, we would still only be saving or protecting one out of 10 lost manufacturing jobs. That's right, because remember, most of those jobs, 87 percent, were lost due to improvements in our own productivity. And unfortunately, those jobs, they're gone for good. So the real question is, does it make sense for us to drive up prices to the point where many of us can't afford the basic goods we use every day for the purpose of saving a job that might be eliminated in a couple of years anyway? The reality is that shared production allows us to manufacture higher quality products at lower costs. It's that simple. It allows us to get more out of the limited resources and expertise we have and at the same time benefit from lower prices. It's really important to remember that for shared production to be effective, it relies on efficient cross-border movement of raw materials, components and finished products. So remember this: the next time you're hearing somebody try to sell you on the idea that protectionism is a good deal, it's just not. Thank you. (Applause) |
The fascinating physics of everyday life | {0: 'Dr. Helen Czerski investigates the physics of ocean bubbles and spends a lot of time sharing the big scientific ideas hidden in the small objects around us.'} | TEDxManchester | As you heard, I'm a physicist. And I think the way we talk about physics needs a little modification. I am from just down the road here; I don't live here anymore. But coming from round here means that I have a northern nana, my mum's mom. And Nana is very bright; she hasn't had much formal education, but she's sharp. And when I was a second-year undergraduate studying physics at Cambridge, I remember spending an afternoon at Nana's house in Urmston studying quantum mechanics. And I had these folders open in front of me with this, you know, hieroglyphics — let's be honest. And Nana came along, and she looked at this folder, and she said, "What's that?" I said, "It's quantum mechanics, Nana." And I tried to explain something about what was on the page. It was to do with the nucleus and Einstein A and B coefficients. And Nana looked very impressed. And then she said, "Oh. What can you do when you know that?" (Laughter) "Don't know, ma'am." (Laughter) I think I said something about computers, because it was all I could think of at the time. But you can broaden that question out, because it's a very good question — "What can you do when you know that?" when "that" is physics? And I've come to realize that when we talk about physics in society and our sort of image of it, we don't include the things that we can do when we know that. Our perception of what physics is needs a bit of a shift. Not only does it need a bit of a shift, but sharing this different perspective matters for our society, and I'm not just saying that because I'm a physicist and I'm biased and I think we're the most important people in the world. Honest. So, the image of physics — we've got an image problem, let's be honest — it hasn't moved on much from this. This is a very famous photograph that's from the Solvay Conference in 1927. This is when the great minds of physics were grappling with the nature of determinism and what it means only to have a probability that a particle might be somewhere, and whether any of it was real. And it was all very difficult. And you'll notice they're all very stern-looking men in suits. Marie Curie — I keep maybe saying, "Marie Antoinette," which would be a turn-up for the books — Marie Curie, third from the left on the bottom there, she was allowed in, but had to dress like everybody else. (Laughter) So, this is what physics is like — there's all these kinds of hieroglyphics, these are to do with waves and particles. That is an artist's impression of two black holes colliding, which makes it look worth watching, to be honest. I'm glad I didn't have to write the risk assessment for whatever was going on there. The point is: this is the image of physics, right? It's weird and difficult, done by slightly strange people dressed in a slightly strange way. It's inaccessible, it's somewhere else and fundamentally, why should I care? And the problem with that is that I'm a physicist, and I study this. This — this is my job, right? I study the interface between the atmosphere and the ocean. The atmosphere is massive, the ocean is massive, and the thin layer that joins them together is really important, because that's where things go from one huge reservoir to the other. You can see that the sea surface — that was me who took this video — the average height of those waves by the way, was 10 meters. So this is definitely physics happening here — there's lots of things — this is definitely physics. And yet it's not included in our cultural perception of physics, and that bothers me. So what is included in our cultural perception of physics? Because I'm a physicist, there has to be a graph, right? That's allowed. We've got time along the bottom here, from very fast things there, to things that take a long time over here. Small things at the bottom, big things up there. So, our current cultural image of physics looks like this. There's quantum mechanics down in that corner, it's very small, it's very weird, it happens very quickly, and it's a long way down in the general ... on the scale of anything that matters for everyday life. And then there's cosmology, which is up there; very large, very far away, also very weird. And if you go to some places like black holes in the beginning of the universe, we know that these are frontiers in physics, right? There's lots of work being done to discover new physics in these places. But the thing is, you will notice there's a very large gap in the middle. And in that gap, there are many things. There are planets and toasts and volcanoes and clouds and clarinets and bubbles and dolphins and all sorts of things that make up our everyday life. And these are also run by physics, you'd be surprised — there is physics in the middle, it's just that nobody talks about it. And the thing about all of these is that they all run on a relatively small number of physical laws, things like Newton's laws of motion, thermodynamics, some rotational dynamics. The physics in the middle applies over a huge range, from very, very small things to very, very big things. You have to try very hard to get outside of this. And there is also a frontier in research physics here, it's just that nobody talks about it. This is the world of the complex. When these laws work together, they bring about the beautiful, messy, complex world we live in. Fundamentally, this is the bit that really matters to me on an everyday basis. And this is the bit that we don't talk about. There's plenty of physics research going on here. But because it doesn't involve pointing at stars, people for some reason think it's not that. Now, the cool thing about this is that there are so many things in this middle bit, all following the same physical laws, that we can see those laws at work almost all the time around us. I've got a little video here. So the game is, one of these eggs is raw and one of them has been boiled. I want you to tell me which one is which. Which one's raw? (Audience responds) The one on the left — yes! And even though you might not have tried that, you all knew. The reason for that is, you set them spinning, and when you stop the cooked egg, the one that's completely solid, you stop the entire egg. When you stop the other one, you only stop the shell; the liquid inside is still rotating because nothing's made it stop. And then it pushes the shell round again, so the egg starts to rotate again. This is brilliant, right? It's a demonstration of something in physics that we call the law of conservation of angular momentum, which basically says that if you set something spinning about a fixed axis, that it will keep spinning unless you do something to stop it. And that's really fundamental in how the universe works. And it's not just eggs that it applies to, although it's really useful if you're the sort of person — and apparently, these people do exist — who will boil eggs and then put them back in the fridge. Who does that? Don't admit to it — it's OK. We won't judge you. But it's also got much broader applicabilities. This is the Hubble Space Telescope. The Hubble Ultra Deep Field, which is a very tiny part of the sky. Hubble has been floating in free space for 25 years, not touching anything. And yet it can point to a tiny region of sky. For 11 and a half days, it did it in sections, accurately enough to take amazing images like this. So the question is: How does something that is not touching anything know where it is? The answer is that right in the middle of it, it has something that, to my great disappointment, isn't a raw egg, but basically does the same job. It's got gyroscopes which are spinning, and because of the law of conservation of angular momentum, they keep spinning with the same axis, indefinitely. Hubble kind of rotates around them, and so it can orient itself. So the same little physical law we can play with in the kitchen and use, also explains what makes possible some of the most advanced technology of our time. So this is the fun bit of physics, that you learn these patterns and then you can apply them again and again and again. And it's really rewarding when you spot them in new places. This is the fun of physics. I have shown that egg video to an audience full of businesspeople once and they were all dressed up very smartly and trying to impress their bosses. And I was running out of time, so I showed the egg video and then said, "Well, you can work it out, and ask me afterwards to check." Then I left the stage. And I had, literally, middle-aged grown men tugging on my sleeve afterwards, saying, "Is it this? Is it this?" And when I said, "Yes." They went, "Yes!" (Laughter) The joy that you get from spotting these patterns doesn't go away when you're an adult. And that's really important, because physics is all about patterns, and a small number of patterns give you access to almost all of the physics in our everyday world. The thing that's best about this is it involves playing with toys. Things like the egg shouldn't be dismissed as the mundane little things that we just give the kids to play with on a Saturday afternoon to keep them quiet. This is the stuff that actually really matters, because this is the laws of the universe and it applies to eggs and toast falling butter-side down and all sorts of other things, just as much as it applies to modern technology and anything else that's going on in the world. So I think we should play with these patterns. Basically, there are a small number of concepts that you can become familiar with using things in your kitchen, that are really useful for life in the outside world. If you want to learn about thermodynamics, a duck is a good place to start, for example, why their feet don't get cold. Once you've got a bit of thermodynamics with the duck, you can also explain fridges. Magnets that you can play with in your kitchen get you to wind turbines and modern energy generation. Raisins in [fizzy] lemonade, which is always a good thing to play with. If you're at a boring party, fish some raisins out of the bar snacks, put them in some lemonade. It's got three consequences. First thing is, it's quite good to watch; try it. Secondly, it sends the boring people away. Thirdly, it brings the interesting people to you. You win on all fronts. And then there's spin and gas laws and viscosity. There's these little patterns, and they're right around us everywhere. And it's fundamentally democratic, right? Everybody has access to the same physics; you don't need a big, posh lab. When I wrote the book, I had the chapter on spin. I had written a bit about toast falling butter-side down. I gave the chapter to a friend of mine who's not a scientist, for him to read and tell me what he thought, and he took the chapter away. He was working overseas. I got this text message back from him a couple of weeks later, and it said, "I'm at breakfast in a posh hotel in Switzerland, and I really want to push toast off the table, because I don't believe what you wrote." And that was the good bit — he doesn't have to. He can push the toast off the table and try it for himself. And so there's two important things to know about science: the fundamental laws we've learned through experience and experimentation, work. The day we drop an apple and it goes up, then we'll have a debate about gravity. Up to that point, we basically know how gravity works, and we can learn the framework. Then there's the process of experimentation: having confidence in things, trying things out, critical thinking — how we move science forward — and you can learn both of those things by playing with toys in the everyday world. And it's really important, because there's all this talk about technology, we've heard talks about quantum computing and all these mysterious, far-off things. But fundamentally, we still live in bodies that are about this size, we still walk about, sit on chairs that are about this size, we still live in the physical world. And being familiar with these concepts means we're not helpless. And I think it's really important that we're not helpless, that society feels it can look at things, because this isn't about knowing all the answers. It's about having the framework so you can ask the right questions. And by playing with these fundamental little things in everyday life, we gain the confidence to ask the right questions. So, there's a bigger thing. In answer to Nana's question about what can you do when you know that — because there's lots of stuff in the everyday world that you can do when you know that, especially if you've got eggs in the fridge — there's a much deeper answer. And so there's all the fun and the curiosity that you could have playing with toys. By the way — why should kids have all the fun, right? All of us can have fun playing with toys, and we shouldn't be embarrassed about it. You can blame me, it's fine. So when it comes to reasons for studying physics, for example, here is the best reason I can think of: I think that each of us has three life-support systems. We've got our own body, we've got a planet and we've got our civilization. Each of those is an independent life-support system, keeping us alive in its own way. And they all run on the fundamental physical laws that you can learn in the kitchen with eggs and teacups and lemonade, and everything else you can play with. This is the reason, for example, why something like climate change is such a serious problem, because It's two of these life-support systems, our planet and our civilization, kind of butting up against each other; they're in conflict, and we need to negotiate that boundary. And the fundamental physical laws that we can learn that are the way the world around us works, are the tools at the basis of everything; they're the foundation. There's lots of things to know about in life, but knowing the foundations is going to get you a long way. And I think this, if you're not interested in having fun with physics or anything like that — strange, but apparently, these people exist — you surely are interested in keeping yourself alive and in how our life-support systems work. The framework for physics is remarkably constant; it's the same in lots and lots of things that we measure. It's not going to change anytime soon. They might discover some new quantum mechanics, but apples right here are still going to fall down. So, the question is — I get asked sometimes: How do you start? What's the place to start if you're interested in the physical world, in not being helpless, and in finding some toys to play with? Here is my suggestion to you: the place to start is that moment — and adults do this — you're drifting along somewhere, and you spot something and your brain goes, "Oh, that's weird." And then your consciousness goes, "You're an adult. Keep going." And that's the point — hold that thought — that bit where your brain went, "Oh, that's a bit odd," because there's something there to play with, and it's worth you playing with it, so that's the place to start. But if you don't have any of those little moments on your way home from this event, here are some things to start with. Put raisins in [fizzy] lemonade; highly entertaining. Watch a coffee spill dry. I know that sounds a little bit like watching paint dry, but it does do quite weird things; it's worth watching. I'm an acquired taste at dinner parties if there are teacups around. There are so many things you can do to play with teacups, it's brilliant. The most obvious one is to get a teacup, get a spoon, tap the teacup around the rim and listen, and you will hear something strange. And the other thing is, push your toast off the table because you can, and you'll learn stuff from it. And if you're feeling really ambitious, try and push it off in such a way that it doesn't fall butter-side down, which is possible. The point of all of this is that, first of all, we should all play with toys. We shouldn't be afraid to investigate the physical world for ourselves with the tools around us, because we all have access to them. It matters, because if we want to understand society, if we want to be good citizens, we need to understand the framework on which everything else must be based. Playing with toys is great. Understanding how to keep our life-support systems going is great. But fundamentally, the thing that we need to change in the way that we talk about physics, is we need to understand that physics isn't out there with weird people and strange hieroglyphics for somebody else in a posh lab. Physics is right here; it's for us, and we can all play with it. Thank you very much. (Applause) |
Living sculptures that stand for history's truths | {0: 'Sethembile Msezane deconstructs the act of public commemoration -- how it creates myths, constructs histories, includes some and excludes others.'} | TEDGlobal 2017 | I'd like for you to take a moment to imagine this with me. You're a little girl of five years old. Sitting in front of a mirror, you ask yourself, "Do I exist?" In this space, there is very little context, and so you move into a different one, one filled with people. Surely, now you know you're not a figment of your own imagination. You breathe their air. You see them, so they must see you. And yet, you still can't help but wonder: Do I only exist when people speak to me? Pretty heavy thoughts for a child, right? But through various artworks that reflect upon our society, I came to understand how a young black girl can grow up feeling as if she's not seen, and perhaps she doesn't exist. You see, if young people don't have positive images of themselves and all that remains are negative stereotypes, this affects their self-image. But it also affects the way that the rest of society treats them. I discovered this having lived in Cape Town for about five years at the time. I felt a deep sense of dislocation and invisibility. I couldn't see myself represented. I couldn't see the women who've raised me, the ones who've influenced me, and the ones that have made South Africa what it is today. I decided to do something about it. What do you think when you see this? If you were a black girl, how would it make you feel? Walking down the street, what does the city you live in say to you? What symbols are present? Which histories are celebrated? And on the other hand, which ones are omitted? You see, public spaces are hardly ever as neutral as they may seem. I discovered this when I made this performance in 2013 on Heritage Day. Cape Town is teeming with masculine architecture, monuments and statues, such as Louis Botha in that photograph. This overt presence of white colonial and Afrikaner nationalist men not only echoes a social, gender and racial divide, but it also continues to affect the way that women — and the way, particularly, black women — see themselves in relation to dominant male figures in public spaces. For this reason, among others, I don't believe that we need statues. The preservation of history and the act of remembering can be achieved in more memorable and effective ways. As part of a year-long public holiday series, I use performance art as a form of social commentary to draw people's attention to certain issues, as well as addressing the absence of the black female body in memorialized public spaces, especially on public holidays. Women's Day was coming up. I looked at what the day means — the Women's March to the union buildings in 1956, petitioning against the pass laws. Juxtaposed with the hypocrisy of how women are treated, especially in public spaces today, I decided to do something about it. Headline: [Women in miniskirt attacked at taxi rank] How do I comment on such polar opposites? In the guise of my great-grandmother, I performed bare-breasted, close to the taxi rank in KwaLanga. This space is also called Freedom Square, where women were a part of demonstrations against apartheid laws. I was not comfortable with women being seen as only victims in society. You might wonder how people reacted to this. (Video) Woman: (Cheering) Woman 2 (offscreen): Yes! Sethembile Msezane: Pretty cool, huh? (Applause) So I realized that through my performances, I've been able to make regular people reflect upon their society, looking at the past as well as the current democracy. (Video) Man (offscreen): She's been there since three o'clock. Man 2 (offscreen): Just before three. About an hour still? Man 1: Yeah. It's just a really hot day. Man 1: It's very interesting. It's very powerful. I think it's cool. I think a lot of people are quick to join a group that's a movement towards something, but not many people are ready to do something as an individual. Man 2: So it's the individual versus the collective. Man 1: Yeah. So I think her pushing her own individual message in performance ... it's powerful. Yeah, I think it's quite powerful that she's doing it on her own. I'd be interested to know why she's using hair extensions as wings, or whatever those things are meant to be. They are wings, yes? Woman 3: With her standing there right now, I think it's just my interpretation that we are bringing the statue down and bringing up something that's supposed to represent African pride, I think. Or something like that. Something should stand while Rhodes falls, I think that's what it's saying. Yeah. Yes. Thank you. Man 3: What is behind me represents the African culture. We can't have the colonialist law, so we need to remove all these colonial statues. We have have our own statues now, our African leaders — Bhambatha, Moshoeshoe, Kwame Nkrumah — all those who paid their lives for our liberation. We can't continue in the 21st century, and after 21 years of democracy, have the colonizers in our own country. They belong somewhere. Maybe in a museum; not here. I mean learning institutions, places where young people, young minds are being shaped. So we cannot continue to have Louis Botha, Rhodes, all these people, because they're representing the colonialism. (Applause) Sethembile Msezane: On April 9, 2015, the Cecil John Rhodes statue was scheduled to be removed after a month of debates for and against its removal by various stakeholders. This caused a widespread interest in statues in South Africa. Opinions varied, but the media focused on problematizing the removal of statues. On that — well, that year, I had just begun my master's at the University of Cape Town. During the time of the debate of the statue, I had been having reoccurring dreams about a bird. And so I started conjuring her mentally, spiritually and through dress. On that day, I happened to be having a meeting with my supervisors, and they told me that the statue was going to fall on that day. I told them that I'd explain later, but we had to postpone the meeting because I was going to perform her as the statue came down. Her name was Chapungu. She was a soapstone bird that was looted from Great Zimbabwe in the late 1800s, and is still currently housed in Cecil John Rhodes's estate in Cape Town. On that day, I embodied her existence using my body, while standing in the blazing sun for nearly four hours. As the time came, the crane came alive. The people did, too — shouting, screaming, clenching their fists and taking pictures of the moment on their phones and cameras. Chapungu's wings, along with the crane, rose to declare the fall of Cecil John Rhodes. (Applause) Euphoria filled the air as he became absent from his base, while she remained still, very present, half an hour after his removal. Twenty-three years after apartheid, a new generation of radicals has arisen in South Africa. The story of Chapungu and Rhodes in the same space and time asks important questions related to gender, power, self-representation, history making and repatriation. From then on, I realized that my spiritual beliefs and dreams texture my material reality. But for me, Chapungu's story felt incomplete. This soapstone bird, a spiritual medium and messenger of God and the ancestors, needed me to continue her story. And so I dabbled in the dream space a little bit more, and this is how "Falling" was born. [A film by Sethembile Msezane] (Video) (A capella singing) [FALLING] (Applause) In the film, Zimbabwe, South Africa and Germany share a common story about the soapstone birds that were looted from Great Zimbabwe. After Zimbabwe gained its independence, all the birds except for one were returned to the monument. "Falling" explores the mythological belief that there will be unrest until the final bird is returned. Through my work, I have realized a lot about the world around me: how we move through spaces, who we choose to celebrate and who we remember. Now I look in the mirror and not only see an image of myself, but of the women who have made me who I am today. I stand tall in my work, celebrating women's histories, in the hope that perhaps one day, no little black girl has to ever feel like she doesn't exist. Thank you. (Applause) |
How digital DNA could help you make better health choices | {0: 'At iCarbonX, Jun Wang aims to establish a big data platform for health management.'} | TED2017 | Today I'm here, actually, to pose you a question. What is life? It has been really puzzling me for more than 25 years, and will probably continue doing so for the next 25 years. This is the thesis I did when I was still in undergraduate school. While my colleagues still treated computers as big calculators, I started to teach computers to learn. I built digital lady beetles and tried to learn from real lady beetles, just to do one thing: search for food. And after very simple neural network — genetic algorithms and so on — look at the pattern. They're almost identical to real life. A very striking learning experience for a twenty-year-old. Life is a learning program. When you look at all of this wonderful world, every species has its own learning program. The learning program is genome, and the code of that program is DNA. The different genomes of each species represent different survival strategies. They represent hundreds of millions of years of evolution. The interaction between every species' ancestor and the environment. I was really fascinated about the world, about the DNA, about, you know, the language of life, the program of learning. So I decided to co-found the institute to read them. I read many of them. We probably read more than half of the prior animal genomes in the world. I mean, up to date. We did learn a lot. We did sequence, also, one species many, many times ... human genome. We sequenced the first Asian. I sequenced it myself many, many times, just to take advantage of that platform. Look at all those repeating base pairs: ATCG. You don't understand anything there. But look at that one base pair. Those five letters, the AGGAA. These five SNPs represent a very specific haplotype in the Tibetan population around the gene called EPAS1. That gene has been proved — it's highly selective — it's the most significant signature of positive selection of Tibetans for the higher altitude adaptation. You know what? These five SNPs were the result of integration of Denisovans, or Denisovan-like individuals into humans. This is the reason why we need to read those genomes. To understand history, to understand what kind of learning process the genome has been through for the millions of years. By reading a genome, it can give you a lot of information — tells you the bugs in the genome — I mean, birth defects, monogenetic disorders. Reading a drop of blood could tell you why you got a fever, or it tells you which medicine and dosage needs to be used when you're sick, especially for cancer. A lot of things could be studied, but look at that: 30 years ago, we were still poor in China. Only .67 percent of the Chinese adult population had diabetes. Look at now: 11 percent. Genetics cannot change over 30 years — only one generation. It must be something different. Diet? The environment? Lifestyle? Even identical twins could develop totally differently. It could be one becomes very obese, the other is not. One develops a cancer and the other does not. Not mentioning living in a very stressed environment. I moved to Shenzhen 10 years ago ... for some reason, people may know. If the gene's under stress, it behaves totally differently. Life is a journey. A gene is just a starting point, not the end. You have this statistical risk of certain diseases when you are born. But every day you make different choices, and those choices will increase or decrease the risk of certain diseases. But do you know where you are on the curve? What's the past curve look like? What kind of decisions are you facing every day? And what kind of decision is the right one to make your own right curve over your life journey? What's that? The only thing you cannot change, you cannot reverse back, is time. Probably not yet; maybe in the future. (Laughter) Well, you cannot change the decision you've made, but can we do something there? Can we actually try to run multiple options on me, and try to predict right on the consequence, and be able to make the right choice? After all, we are our choices. These lady beetles came to me afterwards. 25 years ago, I made the digital lady beetles to try to simulate real lady beetles. Can I make a digital me ... to simulate me? I understand the neural network could become much more sophisticated and complicated there. Can I make that one, and try to run multiple options on that digital me — to compute that? Then I could live in different universes, in parallel, at the same time. Then I would choose whatever is good for me. I probably have the most comprehensive digital me on the planet. I've spent a lot of dollars on me, on myself. And the digital me told me I have a genetic risk of gout by all of those things there. You need different technology to do that. You need the proteins, genes, you need metabolized antibodies, you need to screen all your body about the bacterias and viruses covering you, or in you. You need to have all the smart devices there — smart cars, smart house, smart tables, smart watch, smart phone to track all of your activities there. The environment is important — everything's important — and don't forget the smart toilet. (Laughter) It's such a waste, right? Every day, so much invaluable information just has been flushed into the water. And you need them. You need to measure all of them. You need to be able to measure everything around you and compute them. And the digital me told me I have a genetic defect. I have a very high risk of gout. I don't feel anything now, I'm still healthy. But look at my uric acid level. It's double the normal range. And the digital me searched all the medicine books, and it tells me, "OK, you could drink burdock tea" — I cannot even pronounce it right — (Laughter) That is from old Chinese wisdom. And I drank that tea for three months. My uric acid has now gone back to normal. I mean, it worked for me. All those thousands of years of wisdom worked for me. I was lucky. But I'm probably not lucky for you. All of this existing knowledge in the world cannot possibly be efficient enough or personalized enough for yourself. The only way to make that digital me work ... is to learn from yourself. You have to ask a lot of questions about yourself: "What if?" — I'm being jet-lagged now here. You don't probably see it, but I do. What if I eat less? When I took metformin, supposedly to live longer? What if I climb Mt. Everest? It's not that easy. Or run a marathon? What if I drink a bottle of mao-tai, which is a Chinese liquor, and I get really drunk? I was doing a video rehearsal last time with the folks here, when I was drunk, and I totally delivered a different speech. (Laughter) What if I work less, right? I have been less stressed, right? So that probably never happened to me, I was really stressed every day, but I hope I could be less stressed. These early studies told us, even with the same banana, we have totally different glucose-level reactions over different individuals. How about me? What is the right breakfast for me? I need to do two weeks of controlled experiments, of testing all kinds of different food ingredients on me, and check my body's reaction. And I don't know the precise nutrition for me, for myself. Then I wanted to search all the Chinese old wisdom about how I can live longer, and healthier. I did it. Some of them are really unachievable. I did this once last October, by not eating for seven days. I did a fast for seven days with six partners of mine. Look at those people. One smile. You know why he smiled? He cheated. (Laughter) He drank one cup of coffee at night, and we caught it from the data. (Laughter) We measured everything from the data. We were able to track them, and we could really see — for example, my immune system, just to give you a little hint there. My immune system changed dramatically over 24 hours there. And my antibody regulates my proteins for that dramatic change. And everybody was doing that. Even if we're essentially totally different at the very beginning. And that probably will be an interesting treatment in the future for cancer and things like that. It becomes very, very interesting. But something you probably don't want to try, like drinking fecal water from a healthier individual, which will make you feel healthier. This is from old Chinese wisdom. Look at that, right? Like 1,700 years ago, it's already there, in the book. But I still hate the smell. (Laughter) I want to find out the true way to do it, maybe find a combination of cocktails of bacterias and drink it, it probably will make me better. So I'm trying to do that. Even though I'm trying this hard, it's so difficult to test out all possible conditions. It's not possible to do all kinds of experiments at all ... but we do have seven billion learning programs on this planet. Seven billion. And every program is running in different conditions and doing different experiments. Can we all measure them? Seven years ago, I wrote an essay in "Science" to celebrate the human genome's 10-year anniversary. I said, "Sequence yourself, for one and for all." But now I'm going to say, "Digitalize yourself for one and for all." When we make this digital me into a digital we, when we try to form an internet of life, when people can learn from each other, when people can learn from their experience, their data, when people can really form a digital me by themselves and we learn from it, the digital we will be totally different with a digital me. But it can only come from the digital me. And this is what I try to propose here. Join me — become we, and everybody should build up their own digital me, because only by that will you learn more about you, about me, about us ... about the question I just posed at the very beginning: "What is life?" Thank you. (Applause) Chris Anderson: One quick question for you. I mean, the work is amazing. I suspect one question people have is, as we look forward to these amazing technical possibilities of personalized medicine, in the near-term it feels like they're only going to be affordable for a few people, right? It costs many dollars to do all the sequencing and so forth. Is this going to lead to a kind of, you know, increasing inequality? Or do you have this vision that the knowledge that you get from the pioneers can actually be pretty quickly disseminated to help a broader set of recipients? Jun Wang: Well, good question. I'll tell you that seven years ago, when I co-founded BGI, and served as the CEO of the company there, the only goal there for me to do was to drive the sequencing cost down. It started from 100 million dollars per human genome. Now, it's a couple hundred dollars for a human genome. The only reason to do it is to get more people to benefit from it. So for the digital me, it's the same thing. Now, you probably need, you know, one million dollars to digitize a person. I think it has to be 100 dollars. It has to be free for many of those people that urgently need that. So this is our goal. And it seems that with all this merging of the technology, I'm thinking that in the very near future, let's say three to five years, it will come to reality. And this is the whole idea of why I founded iCarbonX, my second company. It's really trying to get the cost down to a level where every individual could have the benefit. CA: All right, so the dream is not elite health services for few, it's to really try and actually make overall health care much more cost effective — JW: But we started from some early adopters, people believing ideas and so on, but eventually, it will become everybody's benefit. CA: Well, Jun, I think it's got to be true to say you're one of the most amazing scientific minds on the planet, and it's an honor to have you. JW: Thank you. (Applause) |
What we're missing in the debate about immigration | {0: 'Duarte Geraldino is working on a multi-year project that chronicles the lives of citizens who lose people to deportation.'} | TED Residency | So, Ma was trying to explain something to me about Grandma and when they grew up, but I couldn't pay attention to her because I was five years old, and I was petrified. I had just seen The Green Lady. Now, about a week earlier, I'd watched that movie "Godzilla," the one about that huge lizard-like beast storming a major city, and the thought of a green monster coming for me was stuck in my mind. And yet there I was, at the tip of Lower Manhattan with my mom, just staring at her: her horns, her muscles — all of it just frightened me. And I didn't know whether she was a monster or a hero. So I decided to consult the Google of the day — "Ma! Ma!" (Laughter) My mother explained that The Green Lady is actually the Statue of Liberty and that she was waving immigrants in. Now, the part of her explanation that really messed with my young head was the fact that, according to Ma, long before us, The Green Lady was actually brown, brown like me, and that she changed colors over the years, much like America. Now, the part that really is intriguing about this is that when she changed colors, she made me think about myself. It all made sense to me, because as a first-generation American, I was surrounded by immigrants. In fact, within my immediate social circle of the people who support me, who enrich my life, at least two are foreign-born. My life as a US citizen is in many ways shaped by newcomers, and chances are, so is yours. There are more than 40 million immigrants in the USA. According to census data, a quarter of the nation's children have at least one foreign-born parent. I know all these statistics because I study global migration patterns. I'm a journalist, and for the last few years, I've been documenting the lives of US citizens who've lost people to deportation. And the numbers are enormous. From 2008 to 2016, more than three million people were "ordered removed" — that's the technical term for being deported. There is an economic, a political, a psychological and an emotional cost to those deportations — the moments when these circles are broken. I once asked a US soldier, "Why did you volunteer to fight this war?" And she told me, "Because I'm proud to defend my country." But I pressed to know — "Really, when you're on base, and you hear bombs exploding in the distance, and you see soldiers coming back who are gravely injured, in that moment, when you know you could be next, what does 'my country' mean?" She looked at me. "My country is my wife, my family, my friends, my soldiers." What she was telling me is that "my country" is a collection of these strong relationships; these social circles. When the social circles are weakened, a country itself is weaker. We're missing a crucial aspect in the debate about immigration policy. Rather than focusing on individuals, we should focus on the circles around them, because these are the people who are left behind: the voters, the taxpayers, the ones who are suffering that loss. And it's not just the children of the deported who are impacted. You have brothers and sisters who are separated by borders. You have classmates, teachers, law enforcement officers, technologists, scientists, doctors, who are all scrambling to make sense of new realities when their social circles are broken. These are the real lives behind all these statistics that dominate discussions about immigration policy. But we don't often think about them. And I'm trying to change that. Here's just one of the real-life stories that I've collected. And it still haunts me. I met Ramon and his son in 2016, the same year both of them were being ordered out of the country. Ramon was being deported to Latin America, while his son, who was a sergeant in the US military, was being deployed. Deported ... deployed. If you just look at Ramon's case, it wouldn't be clear how deeply connected to the country he is. But consider his son: a US citizen defending a country that's banished his father. The social circle is what's key here. Here's another example that illustrates those critical bonds. A group of citizens in Philadelphia were concerned about their jobs, because the legal owner of the restaurant where they worked was an undocumented immigrant, and immigration officials had picked him up. They rallied behind him. An immigration lawyer argued he was too important to the local community to be deported. At the hearing, they even submitted restaurant reviews — restaurant reviews! In the end, a judge exercised what's called "judicial discretion" and allowed him to stay in the country, but only because they considered the social circle. There are 23 million noncitizens in the USA, according to verifiable federal data. And that doesn't include the undocumented, because numbers for that population are at best complex estimates. Let's just work with what we have. That's 23 million social circles — about 100 million individuals whose lives could be impacted by deportation. And the stress of it all is trickling down through the population. A 2017 poll by UCLA of LA County residents found that 30 percent of citizens in LA County are stressed about deportation, not because they themselves could be removed, but rather, because members of their social circle were at risk. I am not suggesting that no one should ever be deported; don't confuse me with that. But what I am saying is that we need to look at the bigger picture. If you are within the sound of my voice, I want you to close your eyes for a moment and examine your own social circle. Who are your foreign-born? What would it feel like if the circle were broken? Share your story. I'm building a global archive of first-person accounts and linking them with mapping technology, so that we can see exactly where these circles break, because this is not just an American issue. There are a quarter-billion migrants around the world; people living, loving and learning in countries where they were not born. And in my career, in my life, I've been one of them: in China, in Africa, in Europe. And each time I become one of these foreigners — one of these strange-looking guys in a new land — I can't help but think back to that day when I was in Lower Manhattan with my mom all those decades ago, when I was scared, and I had just spotted that green lady. And I guess the question that I keep on thinking about when I see her and all the younger replicas of her that are so obviously brown, and even the paintings that showcase her in the beginning as not quite green — when I look at all of that, the question that my research seeks to answer becomes, to me, the same one that confounded me all those years ago: Is she a monster or a hero? Thank you. (Applause) |
Why Africa must become a center of knowledge again | {0: 'Drawing on a rich cultural and personal history, Olúfẹ́mi Táíwò studies philosophy of law, social and political philosophy, Marxism, and African and Africana philosophy.'} | TEDGlobal 2017 | What stands between Africa's current prostrate condition and a future of prosperity and abundance for its long-suffering populations? One word: knowledge. If Africa is to become a continent that offers the best life for humans, it must become a knowledge society immediately. This is what I have called "Africa's knowledge imperative." Our universities must reduce emphasis on producing manpower for running our civil society, our economy and our political institutions. They should be dedicated mainly to knowledge production. What sense is there in producing civil engineers who are not supported by soil scientists and geologists, who make it their business to create knowledge about our soil and our rocks? What use is there in producing lawyers without juries who produce knowledge of the underlying philosophical foundations of the legal system? We must seek knowledge. We must approach the matter of knowledge with a maniacal commitment, without let or hindrance. Though we must seek knowledge to solve problems we know of, we must also seek knowledge when there is no problem in view — especially when there is no problem in view. We must seek to know as much of what there is to know of all things, limited only by the insufficiency of our human nature, and not only when the need arises. Those who do not seek knowledge when it is not needed will not have it when they must have it. The biggest crisis in Africa today is the crisis of knowledge: how to produce it, how to manage it, and how to deploy it effectively. For instance, Africa does not have a water crisis. It has a knowledge crisis regarding its water, where and what types it is, how it can be tapped and made available where and when needed to all and sundry. How does a continent that is home to some of the largest bodies of water in the world — the Nile, the Niger, the Congo, the Zambezi and the Orange Rivers — be said to have a water crisis, including in countries where those rivers are? And that is only surface water. While we wrongly dissipate our energies fighting the wrong crises, all those who invest in knowledge about us are busy figuring out how to pipe water from Libya's aquifers to quench Europe's thirst. Such is our knowledge of our water resources that many of our countries have given up on making potable water a routine presence in the lives of Africans, rich or poor, high and low, rural and urban. We eagerly accept what the merchants of misery and the global African Studies safari professoriat and their aid-addled, autonomy-fearing African minions in government, universities and civil society tell us regarding how nature has been to stinting towards Africa when it comes to the distribution of water resources in the world. We are content to run our cities and rural dwellings alike on boreholes. How does one run metropolises on boreholes and wells? Does Africa have a food crisis? Again, the answer is no. It is yet another knowledge crisis regarding Africa's agricultural resources, what and where they are, and how they can be best managed to make Africans live more lives that are worth living. Otherwise, how does one explain the fact that geography puts the source of the River Nile in Ethiopia, and its people cannot have water for their lives? And the same geography puts California in the desert, but it is a breadbasket. The difference, obviously, is not geography. It is knowledge. Colorado's aquifers grow California's pistachios. Why can't Libya's aquifers grow sorghum in northern Nigeria? Why does Nigeria not aspire to feed the world, not just itself? If Africa's land is so poor, as we are often told, why are outsiders, from the United Arab Emirates all the way to South Korea, buying up vast acreages of our land, to grow food, no less, to feed their people in lands that are truly more geographically stinting? The new landowners are not planning to import new topsoil to make their African acquisitions more arable. Again, a singular instance of knowledge deficiency. In the 19th century, our predecessors, just years removed from the ravages of slavery and the slave trade, were exploring the Niger and Congo Rivers with a view to turning Africa's resources to the advantage of its people and to the rest of humanity, and their 20th-century successors were dreaming of harnessing the powers of the River Congo to light up the whole continent. Now only buccaneer capitalists from Europe are scheming of doing the same, but for exports to Europe and South Africa. And they are even suggesting that Congolese may not benefit from this scheme, because, according to them, Congolese communities are too small to make providing them with electricity a viable concern. The solution? Africa must become a knowledge society, a defining characteristic of the modern age. We neither are, nor are we on the path to becoming, a knowledge society. Things have not always been this way when it comes to knowledge production and Africa. In antiquity, the world went to Africa for intellectual enrichment. There were celebrated centers of learning, attracting questers from all parts of the then-known world, seeking knowledge about that world. What happened then has implications for our present. For example, how Roman Africa managed the relationship between settlers and natives between the second and fourth centuries of our era might have something to teach us when it comes to confronting not-too-dissimilar problems at the present time. But how many classics departments do we have in our universities? Because we do not invest in knowledge, people come to Africa now not as a place of intellectual enrichment, but as a place where they sate their thirst for exotica. Yet for the last half-millennium, Africa has been hemorrhaging and exporting knowledge to the rest of the world. Regardless of the popular description of it as a trade in bodies, the European trans-Atlantic slave trade and slavery was one of the most radical and longest programs of African brains export in history. American slave owners may have pretended that Africans were mere brutes, beasts of burden, almost as inert and dumb as other farm implements they classified them with in their ledgers. And that's what they did. The enslaved Africans, on the other hand, knew their were embodiments of knowledge. They were smiths, they were poets, they were political counselors, they were princes and princesses, they were mythologists, they were herbologists, they were chefs. The list is endless. They, to take a single example, brought the knowledge of rice cultivation to the American South. They created some of the most original civilizational elements for which the United States is now celebrated. They deployed their knowledge, for the most part, without compensation. For the last half-millennium, beginning with the slave trade, Africa has been exporting brains while simultaneously breaking the chains of knowledge transmission on the continent itself, with dire consequences for the systems of knowledge production in Africa. Successive generations are cut off from the intellectual production of their predecessors. We keep producing for external markets while beggaring our own internal needs. At present, much of the best knowledge about Africa is neither produced nor housed there, even when it is produced by Africans. Because we are dominated by immediate needs and relevant solutions when it comes to what we should know, we are happy to hand over to others the responsibility to produce knowledge, including knowledge about, of and for us, and to do so far away from us. We are ever eager to consume knowledge and have but a mere portion of it without any anxiety about ownership and location. African universities are now all too content to have e-connections with libraries elsewhere, having given up ambitions on building libraries to which the world would come for intellectual edification. Control over who decides what should be stocked on our shelves and how access to collections should be determined are made to rest on our trust in our partners' good faith that they will not abandon us down the road. This must change. Africa must become a place of knowledge again. Knowledge production actually expands the economy. Take archaeological digs, for instance, and their impact on tourism. Our desires to unearth our antiquity, especially those remote times of which we have no written records, requires investment in archaeology and related disciplines, e.g., paleoanthropology. Yet, although it is our past we seek to know, by sheer serendipity, archaeology may shed light on the global human experience and yield economic payoffs that were no part of the original reasons for digging. We must find a way to make knowledge and its production sexy and rewarding; rewarding, not in the crass sense of moneymaking but in terms of making it worthwhile to indulge in the pursuit of knowledge, support the existence of knowledge-producing groups and intellectuals, ensuring that the continent becomes the immediate locus of knowledge production, distribution and consumption, and that instead of having its depositories beyond Africa's boundaries, people once more come from the rest of the world, even if in virtual space, to learn from us. All this we do as custodians on behalf of common humanity. Creating a knowledge society in Africa, for me, would be one way to celebrate and simultaneously enhance diversity by infinitely enriching it with material and additional artifacts — artifacts that we furnish by our strivings in the knowledge field. Thank you very much. (Applause) |
The most Martian place on Earth | {0: 'TED Fellow Armando Azua-Bustos studies how microbial life has adapted to survive in the Atacama Desert, the driest place on Earth.'} | TED2017 | This is a picture of a sunset on Mars taken by NASA's Curiosity rover in 2013. Mars is a very cold planet, flooded with high levels of UV radiation and extremely dry. In fact, Mars is considered to be too dry for life as we know it. I'm an astrobiologist. I try to understand the origin of life on Earth and the possibilities of finding life elsewhere in the universe. People sometimes ask me, how can you be an astrobiologist if you don't have your own spaceship? Well, what I do is that I study life in those environments on Earth that most closely resemble other interesting places in the universe. All life on Earth requires water, so in my case I focus on the intimate relationship between water and life in order to understand if we could find life in a planet as dry as Mars. But since I do not have the 2.5 billion dollars to send my own robot to Mars, I study the most Martian place on Earth, the Atacama Desert. Located in northern Chile, it is the oldest and driest desert on Earth. To give you an idea of how dry it is, consider here in Vancouver it rains over 1,000 millimeters of rain every year. In the Atacama, there are places with no reported rains in the last 400 years. How do I know this? Well, because I was born and raised in the Atacama — (Laughter) So I had a unique advantage when I started studying this desert. So let me tell you guys a few fantastic examples he has found on how life has adapted to live with almost no water at all. One of my first findings was in the entrance of a cave facing the Pacific Ocean. In this place, we reported a new type of microalgae that grew only on top of the spiderwebs that covered the cave entrance. Have you ever seen a spiderweb early in the morning? It's covered with dew, so this microalgae learned that in order to carry photosynthesis in the coast of the driest desert on Earth, they could use the spiderwebs. So here they may access the water from the fogs that regularly cover these areas in the morning. In another cave, we found a different type of microalgae. This one is able to use ocean mist as a source of water, and strikingly lives in the very bottom of a cave, so it has adapted to live with less than 0.1 percent of the amount of light that regular plants need. These type of findings suggest to me that on Mars, we may find even photosynthetic life inside caves. And by the way, that's me. (Laughter) Now, for almost 15 years this region of Yungay, discovered by NASA, was thought to be the driest place of this desert, but I knew that it was not. How? You already know the answer. Because I was born and raised in this desert. So I remembered that I usually see fogs in Yungay, so after setting sensors in a number of places, where I remember never seeing fogs or clouds, I reported four other sites much drier than Yungay, with this one, María Elena South, being the truly driest place on Earth, as dry as Mars, and amazingly, just a 15-minute ride from the small mining town where I was born. Now, in this search, we were trying to actually find the dry limit for life on Earth, a place so dry that nothing was able to survive in it. But even here, well hidden underground, we found a number of different microorganisms, which suggested to me that similarly dry places, like Mars, may be inhabited. We even have some preliminary evidences that these microorganisms may still be active in the desiccated state, like walking mummies all around us, and that they may be using UV radiation as a source of energy. If confirmed, this would have a huge impact on our definition of life, on how we look for life elsewhere in the universe. Due to its clear skies, by 2020, 60 percent of the biggest telescopes on Earth will be located in the Atacama, and while everyone else will be looking among the stars to answer the question, "Are we alone?" I will be looking down to the ground searching for this same answer in my own backyard. Thank you. (Applause) |
A black man goes undercover in the alt-right | {0: 'Theo E.J. Wilson encourages us to break through the divides that separate us.'} | TEDxMileHigh | I took a cell phone and accidentally made myself famous. (Laughter) I was just talking about the things that I cared about, but with the click of a button and an incendiary viral video I propelled myself into overnight stardom. When I say overnight, I mean I literally woke up the next morning with so many notifications on my phone, I thought I slept through a national tragedy. (Laughter) It was the craziest thing, guys, but when it came to my influence and my exposure, I literally took a quantum leap. So I made more videos and the subject matter of my videos was often the most divisive subject in American life, but it was the way that I articulated race that made me somewhat of a digital lightning rod. See, being a survivor myself of police brutality and having lost a childhood friend, Alonzo Ashley, at the hands of the police, I had a little something to say about the topic. You see, this was at the height of the Black Lives Matter furor and people seemed to be turning to me to articulate their viewpoints, and honestly, it was sort of overwhelming. You see, the internet has this interesting quality. In one way, it totally brought the world together, and I remember being a kid and all of this utopian propaganda was being dumped on us about how the World Wide Web was going to span the reaches of people across the globe. But as it turns out, people are people. (Laughter) And this magical superhighway also took the demons of our nature and gave them Ferraris. (Laughter) You see, technology, y'all, is a lot like money. It just brings out what's already inside you and amplifies it. And so I soon became familiar with the phenomenon of the internet troll. These guys seem to live beneath the bridges of said superhighway — (Laughter) And they also missed the memo about the enlightenment of the internet age. I remember being called highly colorful racial slurs by those who use the anonymity of the internet as a Klan hood. And some of them were pretty creative, actually, but others were pretty wounding, especially navigating the post-traumatic world of a police brutality survivor in the height of Black Lives Matter, with all of these people being killed on my timeline. To these trolls, I wasn't a human. I was an idea, an object, a caricature. Did I mention that this race stuff can be kind of divisive? You see, I'm an innately curious person and as I drew my sword to engage in epic battles in the comment section — (Laughter) I also began to notice that a few of my trolls actually had brains, which made me even more curious and what to understand them even further. And although these supposed morons engaged in what appeared to be original thought, I said to myself, "Um, these guys are highly misinformed, at least according to my knowledge." Where are these guys getting these arguments from? Like, was there some kind of alternative universe with alternative facts? (Laughter) (Applause) Was history and gravity optional over there? I don't know. But I needed to know. Like, I wanted to know. And as it turns out, I had no idea about digital echo chambers. That same target marketing algorithm that feeds you more of the products you like to buy also feeds you more of the news that you like to hear. I had been living in an online universe that just reflected my worldview back to me. So my timeline was pretty liberal. I had no Breitbart or Infowars or Fox News. No, no, I was all MSNBC and The Daily Show, CNN and theGrio, right? Well, these trolls were hopping the dimensional doorway and I needed to figure out how. (Laughter) So what I decided to do was trick the Facebook algorithm into feeding me more news that I didn't necessarily agree with, and this worked fine for a while, but it wasn't enough, because my online footprint already established the patterns that I like to hear. So with the anonymity of the internet, I went undercover. (Laughter) I set up this ghost profile and went crazy. Now, on a practical level, it was very simple, but on an emotional level, it was kind of daunting, especially with the racist vitriol that I had experienced. But what I didn't realize is that my trolls were inoculating me, thickening my skin, making me immune to viewpoints that I didn't necessarily agree with, and so I didn't react to the same things as I would have several months prior. All right? So I pressed on. Noticing that this stuff also worked on YouTube, I became Lucius25, white supremacist lurker — (Laughter) And digitally I began to infiltrate the infamous alt-right movement. Now, my doppelgänger was Edgar Rice Burroughs' John Carter character — (Laughter) a sci-fi hero who was once a Confederate soldier. And to think, like, years ago, I would have needed acting training and, like, makeup and a fake ID. Now I could just lurk. And so I started with a little Infowars, went on into some American Renaissance, National Vanguard Alliance, and, you know, I started commenting on videos, talking bad about Al Sharpton and Black Lives Matter. I started bemoaning race baiters like Eric Holder and Barack Obama and just mirroring the antiblack sentiments that were thrown at me. And to be honest, it was kind of exhilarating. (Laughter) Like, I would literally spend days clicking through my new racist profile — (Laughter) Goofing off at work in Aryan land. It was something else. (Laughter) And so I then started visiting some of the pages of my former trolls, and a lot of these guys were just regular Joes, a lot of outdoorsmen, hunters, computer nerds, some of them family guys with videos of their families. I mean, for all I know, some of y'all could be in this room right now. Right? (Laughter) But when I went undercover, I found a lovely plethora of characters, luminaries like Milo Yiannopoulos, Richard Spencer and David Duke. All of these guys were thought leaders in their own right, but over time, the alt-right movement ended up using their information to fuel their momentum. And I'm going to tell you what else led to the momentum of the alt-right: the left wing's wholesale demonization of everything white and male. If you are a pale-skinned penis-haver, you're in league with Satan. (Laughter) Now, would you believe, would you believe that some people find that offensive? And — (Laughter) And so, I mean, listen, the fact is that millennials get a lifetime of diet brand history. I mean, America seems to be hellbent on filling its textbooks with CliffsNotes versions of its dark past. This severely, severely decontextualizes race and the anger associated with it, and that is fertile ground for alt-facts to grow. Add in the wild landscape of the internet and it's easy to sell rebranded "Mein Kampf" ideas to a generation who has been failed by public schools. A lot of these ideas, easily debunked. Alt-facts have that quality. However, one theme kept screaming at me through the subtext of those arguments, and that was, why should I be hated for who I cannot help but be? Now, as a black man in America, that resonated with me. I have spent so much time defending myself against attempts to demonize me and make me apologize for who I am, trying to portray me as something that I'm not, some kind of thug or gangster, a menace to society. Unexpected compassion. Wow. Now, listen, the historical source of the demonization of black males and white males is highly different, and where you fall on this argument, sadly, tends to be an accident of birth. Now, you're probably surprised by this perspective, and so was I. Never in a billion years did I think that I could have some kind of compassion for people who hated my guts. Now, mind you, not enough compassion like I want to be friends. I don't have infinite olive branches to extend to people who, like, would not want to see me on this planet. Right? But just enough compassion to understand how they got to where they are. And to be honest, there were a couple of fair points. One of them was how liberals have this wide acceptance for everybody except for those with honestly held conservative viewpoints. (Laughter) Heaven forbid you love God, this country and mean it. Right? And another thing that they talked about was this fear that they had of something that they labeled as "white genocide," that diversity would be a force that would wipe them out. Now listen, I know what it is to fear for the fate of your people. Between crack, AIDS, gang violence, mass incarceration, gentrification, police shootings, black people have more than enough reasons to stay up at night. But if nature is into diversity and you are not, you're going to lose that fight, buddy. (Laughter) (Applause) You see, nature doesn't care about your race. That's man-made. Nature just cares about healthy organisms, and your precious ethnic features are expendable to that aim. So the moment that you let go of that racist identity and relatch onto humanity, all your problems go away. (Applause) I'm going to tell you what race ain't about to die out: the human race. Join the party. The water's great. Until the water gets too hot, but that's another TED Talk. (Laughter) The point is that to get to this point of understanding, you have to let go of that fear and embrace your curiosity, and sadly, too many people will not take that journey to see the world from the other side. And, I mean, let's be honest, that doesn't just go for progressives, but also to the right wing and conservatives. You know, as fair as some of their points were, they were still trapped in their own echo chambers, recycling old, outdated points of view, never getting a diversity in perspective, not making them well-rounded in their worldview. So they're not hearing certain anti-racist and political voices, voices like Tim Wise and Michelle Alexander, Dr. Joy DeGruy, Boyce Watkins, Tariq Nasheed. All of these voices have the answers to the questions that they want, but unfortunately they will not hear them due to the power of these echo chambers. We have got to break out of these digital divides, because as our technology advances, the consequences of our tribalism become more dangerous. And this whole experience taught me something: our gadgets ain't going to save us. All these technological devices are only mastery of the universe out there, not the one in here. And so that's all IQ, not EQ. That's a dangerous imbalance. Where do you get the emotional intelligence, the character development, the virtues of patience, forbearance, compassion, you know, the things that make sure that these devices, however advanced, become a blessing and not a curse? Seems to be me that humanity itself needs an upgrade. Now — (Applause) That's a big task, understandably, but I don't believe in any kind of unbeatable monster. There was no giant out there without perhaps a simple Achilles heel. And what if I told you that one of the best ways to actually overcome this is to have courageous conversations with difficult people, people who do not see the world the same way that you see the world? Oh yes, folks, conversations may be indeed the key to that upgrade, because remember, language was the first form of virtual reality. It is literally a symbolic representation of the physical world, and through this device, we change the physical world. Keep in mind, conversations stop violence, conversations start countries, they build bridges, and when the chips are down, conversations are the last tools that humans use before they pick up their guns. And I ain't talking about online safe conversations from the security of your laptop. No. I'm talking about in-your-face conversations with real, breathing people. And for me, this looks like running a community forum called Shop Talk Live. Now, in Shop Talk Live — somebody's been there, right? In Shop Talk Live, we have the conversations that change lives. We meet the community right where they are, and we've done everything from divert gang violence in real time to help find people jobs to mentoring homeless youth. And the reason why we needed to do this is because there was a severe lack of trust in the black community due to the violence of the crack era. And so we ended up taking agency into our own hands, solving our own problems, not waiting for anybody else. And the truth is, from the mayor to the felon, you're going to find them in that barber shop. And so what we did was just organize what was already going on. And so what I started doing was mining these alternative viewpoints from these alternative digital universes, dissecting them, breaking them down into controversial talking points. Then, with my cell phone, I flipped the internet against itself and began to broadcast these live conversations to my online followers. This made them want to leave the safety of their laptops and meet us in person to have real conversations with real people in real life. And we did this. Thank you. (Applause) Sometimes I sit back, and I reflect on the paradox of me just trying to solve the problems, us trying to solve the problems in our own communities — we build bridges to so many other communities, from the LGBTQ community to the Arab immigrant community and even sat down with somebody with a Confederate flag on their hat and talked about the things that actually matter. It is time that we stop trying to hack our way around the human experience. There is no way out of each other. Stop trying to find one. (Applause) We have to understand something. Human beings all want the same things and we have to go through each other to get these things. These courageous conversations are the way that these bridges are built. It's time that we start seeing people as people and not simply the ideas that we project onto them or react to. Human beings are not the barriers but the gateways to the very things that we want. This is a collective and conscious evolution. My journey began with a terribly popular cell phone video and a fallen friend. Your journey begins right about now. Join the renaissance in human connection. It is going to happen with or without you. My suggestion: pick a topic, and start a community dialogue in your neck of the woods. Meet folks back in real life. And I'm going to tell you, when you trick the algorithm of your existence, you will get some diversified experiences. It is time to grow, people. And when we do this, not if, it will be clear that the key to this upgrade was always our inner world, not some device that we create, and the doorways to this experience is now, and will forever be, each other. Thank you. (Applause) |
What intelligent machines can learn from a school of fish | {0: 'Taking cues from bottom-up biological networks like those of social insects, Radhika Nagpal helped design an unprecedented “swarm” of ant-like robots.'} | TED2017 | In my early days as a graduate student, I went on a snorkeling trip off the coast of the Bahamas. I'd actually never swum in the ocean before, so it was a bit terrifying. What I remember the most is, as I put my head in the water and I was trying really hard to breathe through the snorkel, this huge group of striped yellow and black fish came straight at me ... and I just froze. And then, as if it had suddenly changed its mind, came towards me and then swerved to the right and went right around me. It was absolutely mesmerizing. Maybe many of you have had this experience. Of course, there's the color and the beauty of it, but there was also just the sheer oneness of it, as if it wasn't hundreds of fish but a single entity with a single collective mind that was making decisions. When I look back, I think that experience really ended up determining what I've worked on for most of my career. I'm a computer scientist, and the field that I work in is artificial intelligence. And a key theme in AI is being able to understand intelligence by creating our own computational systems that display intelligence the way we see it in nature. Now, most popular views of AI, of course, come from science fiction and the movies, and I'm personally a big Star Wars fan. But that tends to be a very human-centric view of intelligence. When you think of a fish school, or when I think of a flock of starlings, that feels like a really different kind of intelligence. For starters, any one fish is just so tiny compared to the sheer size of the collective, so it seems that any one individual would have a really limited and myopic view of what's going on, and intelligence isn't really about the individual but somehow a property of the group itself. Secondly, and the thing that I still find most remarkable, is that we know that there are no leaders supervising this fish school. Instead, this incredible collective mind behavior is emerging purely from the interactions of one fish and another. Somehow, there are these interactions or rules of engagement between neighboring fish that make it all work out. So the question for AI then becomes, what are those rules of engagement that lead to this kind of intelligence, and of course, can we create our own? And that's the primary thing that I work on with my team in my lab. We work on it through theory, looking at abstract rule systems and thinking about the mathematics behind it. We also do it through biology, working closely with experimentalists. But mostly, we do it through robotics, where we try to create our own collective systems that can do the kinds of things that we see in nature, or at least try to. One of our first robotic quests along this line was to create our very own colony of a thousand robots. So very simple robots, but they could be programmed to exhibit collective intelligence, and that's what we were able to do. So this is what a single robot looks like. It's quite small, about the size of a quarter, and you can program how it moves, but it can also wirelessly communicate with other robots, and it can measure distances from them. And so now we can start to program exactly an interaction, a rule of engagement between neighbors. And once we have this system, we can start to program many different kinds of rules of engagement that you would see in nature. So for example, spontaneous synchronization, how audiences are clapping and suddenly start all clapping together, the fireflies flashing together. We can program rules for pattern formation, how cells in a tissue determine what role they're going to take on and set the patterns of our bodies. We can program rules for migration, and in this way, we're really learning from nature's rules. But we can also take it a step further. We can actually take these rules that we've learned from nature and combine them and create entirely new collective behaviors of our very own. So for example, imagine that you had two different kinds of rules. So your first rule is a motion rule where a moving robot can move around other stationary robots. And your second rule is a pattern rule where a robot takes on a color based on its two nearest neighbors. So if I start with a blob of robots in a little pattern seed, it turns out that these two rules are sufficient for the group to be able to self-assemble a simple line pattern. And if I have more complicated pattern rules, and I design error correction rules, we can actually create really, really complicated self assemblies, and here's what that looks like. So here, you're going to see a thousand robots that are working together to self-assemble the letter K. The K is on its side. And the important thing is that no one is in charge. So any single robot is only talking to a small number of robots nearby it, and it's using its motion rule to move around the half-built structure just looking for a place to fit in based on its pattern rules. And even though no robot is doing anything perfectly, the rules are such that we can get the collective to do its goal robustly together. And the illusion becomes almost so perfect, you know — you just start to not even notice that they're individual robots at all, and it becomes a single entity, kind of like the school of fish. So these are robots and rules in two dimensions, but we can also think about robots and rules in three dimensions. So what if we could create robots that could build together? And here, we can take inspiration from social insects. So if you think about mound-building termites or you think about army ants, they create incredible, complex nest structures out of mud and even out of their own bodies. And like the system I showed you before, these insects actually also have pattern rules that help them determine what to build, but the pattern can be made out of other insects, or it could be made out of mud. And we can use that same idea to create rules for robots. So here, you're going to see some simulated robots. So the simulated robot has a motion rule, which is how it traverses through the structure, looking for a place to fit in, and it has pattern rules where it looks at groups of blocks to decide whether to place a block. And with the right motion rules and the right pattern rules, we can actually get the robots to build whatever we want. And of course, everybody wants their own tower. (Laughter) So once we have these rules, we can start to create the robot bodies that go with these rules. So here, you see a robot that can climb over blocks, but it can also lift and move these blocks and it can start to edit the very structure that it's on. But with these rules, this is really only one kind of robot body that you could imagine. You could imagine many different kinds of robot bodies. So if you think about robots that maybe could move sandbags and could help build levees, or we could think of robots that built out of soft materials and worked together to shore up a collapsed building — so just the same kind of rules in different kinds of bodies. Or if, like my group, you are completely obsessed with army ants, then maybe one day we can make robots that can climb over literally anything including other members of their tribe, and self-assemble things out of their own bodies. Once you understand the rules, just many different kinds of robot visions become possible. And coming back to the snorkeling trip, we actually understand a great deal about the rules that fish schools use. So if we can invent the bodies to go with that, then maybe there is a future where I and my group will get to snorkel with a fish school of our own creation. Each of these systems that I showed you brings us closer to having the mathematical and the conceptual tools to create our own versions of collective power, and this can enable many different kinds of future applications, whether you think about robots that build flood barriers or you think about robotic bee colonies that could pollinate crops or underwater schools of robots that monitor coral reefs, or if we reach for the stars and we thinking about programming constellations of satellites. In each of these systems, being able to understand how to design the rules of engagement and being able to create good collective behavior becomes a key to realizing these visions. So, so far I've talked about rules for insects and for fish and for robots, but what about the rules that apply to our own human collective? And the last thought that I'd like to leave you with is that science is of course itself an incredible manifestation of collective intelligence, but unlike the beautiful fish schools that I study, I feel we still have a much longer evolutionary path to walk. So in addition to working on improving the science of robot collectives, I also work on creating robots and thinking about rules that will improve our own scientific collective. There's this saying that I love: who does science determines what science gets done. Imagine a society where we had rules of engagement where every child grew up believing that they could stand here and be a technologist of the future, or where every adult believed that they had the ability not just to understand but to change how science and technology impacts their everyday lives. What would that society look like? I believe that we can do that. I believe that we can choose our rules, and we engineer not just robots but we can engineer our own human collective, and if we do and when we do, it will be beautiful. Thank you. (Applause) |
How a video game might help us build better cities | {0: 'Inspired by classic city simulation games, Finnish designer Karoliina Korppoo and her fellow game developers at Colossal Order are infusing a venerable gaming genre with fresh perspectives.'} | TED2017 | We humans are becoming an urban species, so cities, they are our natural habitat. That is where we live. In 2014, over 54 percent of the world population was living in cities, and I can bet you that so many of these people have thought of how they would do things differently, like if I only had the tools to change things in my city, what would I do? What would my dream city be like? And these tools, this is just what we gave them. Two years ago, my team and I, we released a game, "Cities: Skylines." It is a game about building cities. So I have always been interested in cities as systems. It's something that I find immensely interesting. But what I didn't understand was that I am not alone in this. People love cities. They are interested. They have ideas. The game was an instant hit. So far, over three and a half million people have played it. And it's not just about playing. We also have really awesome sharing systems. So people play, they create cities and then they are sharing these creations, showing off what they have made. And what I will show you is some of these cities created by the players. So the game is about self-expression, creativity, not just overcoming the challenges posed by the simulation. It is about showing what your cities look like. So I have a couple of videos. These are from YouTube. And these are some of the most interesting city designs I have seen. So they are all different, and I hope you like all of these. This one is called The Netherlands. It's by Silvarret. And when you start the game, you have an empty piece of land. This land, it can be based on the real world, it can be hand-crafted in the map editor, or you can, of course, download a city made by someone else and play in that. But what Silvarret has done here is that what he wanted to make was not a real city. This is a fantasy city, even though it looks real. So what he wanted to do was a fantasy city that could be in the Netherlands. So he kind of investigated what are the characteristics of cities in the Netherlands and combined a couple of those, and this is what he created. So it is a city, but it is not a real city, but it could be. It looks just like the Netherlands. So the places are really densely populated. So what you need is highways, trains, anything connecting these small town centers together. Lots of people, lots of moving, so transportation is the key here. But then let's go even more on the fantasy side. Let's go into the future. This is one of my personal favorites. These city designs are what I love the most. So this is a tiered city by Conflictnerd, and the basic idea is that you have concentric circle routes. So the city is a big circle with tinier circles inside. And the thing is that you put all of the services in the center, and then people actually live on the outer ring, because there is less traffic, less noise, less pollution, so that is where you want to live. But the services are still really close by. They are in the center. And this is the soul of the game. The player has to understand what are the wishes, what are the needs of the tiny people living in the cities. So you need to know where you should put the things. Like, it's not enough to have a hospital. It needs to be accessible. Citizens need to reach the hospital. And this is one way to do it. So maybe this is something that we might be seeing someday. And then even more into the future. Astergea by Yuttho. So Yuttho does YouTube videos and plays the game. What he did here was actually a 12-point series of creating this city. So what he does is he plays the game, he records it and he explains as he's going what he's doing and why. And as a part of this series, he actually did an interview with an actual urban planner called Jeff Speck. And Speck is an expert on the concept of walkability. The basic idea is that if you want your citizens to walk, which is kind of beneficial, you actually need to have walking as a reasonable means of transportation. It should be a good way to reach places. So what Yuttho did was that he explained this concept, he had Speck explain it, too, and then he applied it to the city that he was building. So what we are seeing is Yuttho's vision of the future: lots of public transportation, walkways, plazas, connecting high-rise buildings. Maybe this is what the future might look like. And the game system works really well for this. We are seeing some real-world uses to this game. So we know that some urban planners are using it as a sketching tool, so while the simulation is not completely realistic, it is realistic enough that if something works in the game, it is highly likely that it will also work in the real world, so that you can actually try out things, see if this intersection might fit this kind of a situation. If we build a new road, would it help? And this is what you can do with this game. There was one really interesting contest held by the Finnish city of Hämeenlinna. So what they did was that they had a new area that they wanted to develop in the city. They made a map with the existing city, they left empty the area that they would want to develop and shared this map. So anyone could download the map, play the game, build the area and submit their creations to the city council. So they have not yet built anything, but it might just be that they use one of these plans made with the game to actually build the real city. And these videos that I have shown you, these are the people who are coming up with new kinds of solutions. We know that cities are growing. They're getting bigger as we go, and the percentage of population living in cities is projected to rise. So we need the solutions and these people, playing the game, they are trying out different kinds of solutions. They might have something that is really important. So what we are seeing here is dream cities that might be real one day. So it might be that this is not just a game. It might be a way to decide our own fate. Thank you. (Applause) |
The boost students need to overcome obstacles | {0: 'Anindya Kundu suggests all students can succeed if provided collective support systems and opportunities.'} | TED Residency | So, I teach college students about inequality and race in education, and I like to leave my office open to any of my students who might just want to see me to chat. And a few semesters ago, one of my more cheerful students, Mahari, actually came to see me and mentioned that he was feeling a bit like an outcast because he's black. He had just transferred to NYU from a community college on a merit scholarship, and turns out, only about five percent of students at NYU are black. And so I started to remember that I know that feeling of being an outsider in your own community. It's partially what drew me to my work. At my university, I'm one of the few faculty members of color, and growing up, I experienced my family's social mobility, moving out of apartments into a nice house, but in an overwhelmingly white neighborhood. I was 12, and kids would say that were surprised that I didn't smell like curry. (Laughter) That's because school is in the morning, and I had Eggo waffles for breakfast. (Laughter) Curry is for dinner. (Laughter) So when Mahari was leaving, I asked him how he was coping with feeling isolated. And he said that despite feeling lonely, he just threw himself at his work, that he built strategies around his grit and his desire to be successful. A mentor of mine is actually Dr. Angela Duckworth, the psychologist at UPenn who has defined this stick-to-itiveness of grit as being "the perseverance and passion for long-term goals." Angela's book has become a bestseller, and schools across the country, particularly charter schools, have become interested in citing "grit" as a core value. But sometimes grit isn't enough, especially in education. So when Mahari was leaving my office, I worried that he might need something more specific to combat the challenges that he mentioned to me. As a sociologist, I also study achievement, but from a slightly different perspective. I research students who have overcome immense obstacles related to their background. Students from low-income, often single-parent households, students who have been homeless, incarcerated or perhaps undocumented, or some who have struggled with substance abuse or lived through violent or sexual trauma. So let me tell you about two of the grittiest people I've met. Tyrique was raised by a single mother, and then after high school, he fell in with the wrong crowd. He got arrested for armed robbery. But in prison, he started to work hard. He took college credit courses, so when he got out, he was able to get a master's, and today he's a manager at a nonprofit. Vanessa had to move around a lot as a kid, from the Lower East Side to Staten Island to the Bronx. She was raised primarily by her extended family, because her own mother had a heroin addiction. Yet at 15, Vanessa had to drop out of school, and she had a son of her own. But eventually, she was able to go to community college, get her associate's, then go to an elite college to finish her bachelor's. So some people might hear these stories and say, "Yes, those two definitely have grit. They basically pulled themselves up by the bootstraps." But that's an incomplete picture, because what's more important is that they had factors in their lives that helped to influence their agency, or their specific capacity to actually overcome the obstacles that they were facing and navigate the system given their circumstances. So, allow me to elaborate. In prison, Tyrique was actually aimless at first, as a 22-year-old on Rikers Island. This is until an older detainee took him aside and asked him to help with the youth program. And in mentoring youth, he started to see his own mistakes and possibilities in the teens. This is what got him interested in taking college-credit courses. And when he got out, he got a job with Fortune Society, where many executives are people who have been formerly incarcerated. So then he was able to get a master's in social work, and today, he even lectures at Columbia about prison reform. And Vanessa ... well, after the birth of her son, she happened to find a program called Vocational Foundation that gave her 20 dollars biweekly, a MetroCard and her first experiences with a computer. These simple resources are what helped her get her GED, but then she suffered from a very serious kidney failure, which was particularly problematic because she was only born with one kidney. She spent 10 years on dialysis waiting for a successful transplant. After that, her mentors at community college had kept in touch with her, and so she was able to go, and they put her in an honors program. And that's the pathway that allowed her to become accepted to one of the most elite colleges for women in the country, and she received her bachelor's at 36, setting an incredible example for her young son. What these stories primarily indicate is that teaching is social and benefits from social scaffolding. There were factors pushing these two in one direction, but through tailored mentorship and opportunities, they were able to reflect on their circumstances and resist negative influences. They also learned simple skills like developing a network, or asking for help — things many of us in this room can forget that we have needed from time to time, or can take for granted. And when we think of people like this, we should only think of them as exceptional, but not as exceptions. Thinking of them as exceptions absolves us of the collective responsibility to help students in similar situations. When Presidents Bush, Obama and now even Trump, have called education "the civil rights issue of our time," perhaps we should treat it that way. If schools were able to think about the agency that their students have and bring to the table when they push them, what students learn can become more relevant to their lives, and then they can tap into those internal reservoirs of grit and character. So this here — My student Mahari got accepted to law school with scholarships, and not to brag, but I did write one of his letters of recommendation. (Laughter) And even though I know hard work is what got him this achievement, I've seen him find his voice along the way, which as someone who's grown up a little bit shy and awkward, I know it takes time and support. So even though he will rely a lot on his grit to get him through that first-year law school grind, I'll be there as a mentor for him, check in with him from time to time, maybe take him out to get some curry ... (Laughter) so that he can keep growing his agency to succeed even more. Thank you. (Applause) |
The fascinating secret lives of giant clams | {0: 'TED Fellow Mei Lin Neo is helping giant clams step out of their shells and show the world that they can be the heroes of the oceans, too.'} | TED2017 | Back home, my friends call me nicknames, such as "The Giant Clam Girl," "Clam Queen," or, "The Mother of Clams." (Laughter) This is because every time I see them, I talk nonstop about giant clams all day, every day. Giant clams are these massive and colorful shelled marine animals, the largest of its kind. Just look at this shell. The biggest recorded individual was four-and-a-half-feet long and weighed about 550 pounds. That is almost as heavy as three baby elephants. South Pacific legends once described giant clams as man-eaters that would lie in wait on the seabed to trap unsuspecting divers. A story goes that a diver had lost his legs while trying to retrieve a pearl from a giant clam. I thought, "Really?" So out of curiosity, I did an experiment using myself as bait. (Laughter) I carefully placed my hand into the clam's mouth and waited. Hmm ... I still have my hand. It seems that these gentle giants would rather retreat and protect their fleshy bodies than feed on me. So much for those killer clam myths! Unfortunately, the reality is, we are the giant clams' biggest threat. Considered a delicacy throughout the Western Pacific and Indian Oceans, giant clams have been traditionally fished as seafood. Fishermen are particularly interested in their adductor muscles, which are organs that hold the two shells together like a hinge. Just for their muscles, giant clams were almost hunted to extinction between the 1960s and 1980s. Clamshells are also popular in the ornamental trade as jewelry and for display. In the South China Sea, fishermen went out of their way to collect fossilized clamshells by digging through large areas of coral reefs. These were later carved and sold as so-called "ivory handicrafts" in China. Giant clams, dead or alive, are not safe from us. It's a "clamity!" (Laughter) (Applause) With the spotlight on more charismatic marine animals such as the whales and coral reefs, it is easy to forget that other marine life needs our help, too. My fascination with giant clams got me started on conservation research to fill in the knowledge gaps on their ecology and behavior. One of the discoveries that we made was that giant clams could walk across the seafloor. Yes, you heard me right: they can walk. To find out, we placed numerous baby clams on a grid. Now watch what happens over 24 hours. We think that walking is important for getting away from predators and finding mates for breeding. While it can hard to imagine any movement in these enormous animals, giant clams up to 400 pounds can still walk, they just move slower. During my PhD, I discovered more secrets about the giant clams. But there was something missing in my work. I found myself asking, "Why should people care about conserving giant clams?" — other than myself, of course. (Laughter) It turns out that giant clams have a giant impact on coral reefs. These multitasking clams are reef builders, food factories, shelters for shrimps and crabs and water filters, all rolled into one. In a nutshell, giant clams play a major contributing role as residents of their own reef home, and just having them around keeps the reef healthy. And because they can live up to 100 years old, giant clams make vital indicators of coral reef health. So when giant clams start to disappear from coral reefs, their absence can serve as an alarm bell for scientists to start paying attention, similar to the canary in a coal mine. But giant clams are endangered. The largest clam in the world is facing the threat of extinction, with more than 50 percent of the wild population severely depleted. And the ecological benefits of having giant clams on coral reefs are likely to continue only if populations are healthy, making their conservation paramount. So I stand here today to give a voice to the giant clams, because I care a whole lot for these amazing animals, and they deserve to be cared for. It is time for the giant clams to step out of their shells, and show the world that they, too, can be the heroes of the oceans. Thank you very much. (Applause) |
Why people of different faiths are painting their houses of worship yellow | {0: 'Nabila Alibhai leads inCOMMONS, a new cultural production lab focused on invigorating public spaces and inspiring collective responsibility for our cultural and environmental heritage.'} | TEDGlobal 2017 | We live in a time of fear, and our response to fear can either be to contract and attempt to guard ourselves or to extend ourselves, hold on to each other, and face our fears together. What is your instinct? What do you see more of in the world? The problem with the first approach is that in our mounting isolation, we divide ourselves from others. Our sense of isolation grows, because our imagination goes into overdrive about the people and the spaces that we no longer engage with. Our sense of otherness grows, and we lose empathy. Today I'm going to tell you about a group of people that took the global challenge of terrorism and began creating spaces where strangers connect in solidarity. My own obsession with what I see as irrational divisions began as a child. As a fourth-generation Kenyan Muslim of Indian origin, it bothered me that in four generations, there wasn't a single marriage in my family outside of my small religious community. And I wondered what that was about. Was it fear? Was it racism? Was it cultural preservation? Did it have something to do with colonialism? Certainly, we didn't share a lot of the same public spaces with others. These divisions bothered me deeply, and they drove my career choices. When I was 20, the US embassies in Kenya and Tanzania were bombed. A year later, I was on my way to the Middle East to study conflict resolution. And then from that point on, it wasn't very hard for me to find insecure environments to work in, because the world was quickly shifting in what we now know as the time of terrorism. I was in Washington, DC when 9/11 happened, and then I moved back home to Kenya to work with refugees and then later worked in Pakistan and in Afghanistan. In all of these places, what I noticed was how important physical spaces are to making us feel safe and well and like we belong. In 2013, I came back home to Nairobi from Afghanistan. Al-Shabaab operatives had besieged Westgate shopping center, killing 67 people in a day of utter horror. Soon after that, I could see how Nairobi was beginning to change, and it was beginning to feel more like the fear and terror-weary and war-torn cities that I had worked in. And Nairobi continues to grow in fear-driven ways. We see more walls, more barriers, more security. And like other parts of the world, we are experiencing an erosion of human connection. Divisions along religious lines are deepening, and we're doubting more and more how much we have in common. We are at a pivotal time when we need to restore our confidence in humanity and stand boldly and visibly together. So in 2014, I brought together a group of people in Nairobi to figure out what to do: public intellectuals, diplomats, artists, development workers. And the group articulated our challenge as threefold: one, to reclaim the city from the narrative of terrorism and back into the hands of the people that live there; two, introduce a language beyond race, tribe or religion that would help us transcend our differences; and three, provide a gesture that would help restore empathy and conversation and trust. One of the people in this group was an artist and architect, Yazmany Arboleda. He and I have collaborated in other parts of the world over many years. He has a history of disrupting urban environments and making strangers connect in incredible, beautiful and spectacular ways. He had an idea. The idea was to unite people of different faiths by getting them to paint each other's houses of worship, mosques, temples, synagogues, churches, paint them yellow in the name of love. By focusing on icons of faith, we would get people to reexamine the true essence of their faith, the common belief that we share in kindness, generosity and friendship. By creating pathways between houses of worship within one neighborhood, we would create islands of stability and networks of people that could withstand threats. And neighbors, by picking up a paintbrush with other neighbors, would engage not just with their heads but with their hands and with their hearts. And the painted buildings would become sculptures in the landscape that speak of people from very different backgrounds that stand together. We'd call the project "Colour in Faith." We loved the idea and we immediately began approaching houses of worship: churches, temples, mosques, synagogues. Door to door, we went to more than 60 rabbis, imams, pastors and priests. As you can imagine, bringing these communities together when prejudices are reinforced by a global pandemic of fear is not easy. It was complicated. We were confronted with the hierarchy of decision-making within religious establishments. For example, with Catholic churches, we were told that the archbishop would have to make the decision. And so we wrote a letter to the archbishop. We wrote a letter to the Vatican. We're still waiting to hear back. (Laughter) And with other houses of worship, we were told that the patrons, the people that pay for the building and the construction and the painting of the buildings would have to make a decision. And then we came head-to-head with the long legacy of missionary and donor dependence that so impedes unconditional civic action, and we learned this the hard way. There was one community that in our repeated conversations would keep asking us to appreciate them. And so we would keep going back and telling them that we appreciate them, and of course, if we didn't appreciate them, we wouldn't be here. And then we learned painfully late in the game that the word "appreciation" is code for getting paid to participate. And so we challenged them and we asked the question, "So what will it cost? How much could we pay you? And if we pay for your faith, is it really faith?" We started the project asking the question, "Where does your faith live?" And here we found ourselves asking the question, "How much does your faith cost?" But the most difficult issue was the perceived risk of standing apart. We had one synagogue that flat-out refused to participate because it feared drawing attention to itself and becoming a target. Similarly, we had a mosque that also feared becoming a target. And these fears are justified. And yet, there were 25 houses of worship that pledged to participate. (Applause) These bold leaders took the gesture and reinforced it with their own meaning. For some, it was to tell the world that they're not terrorists. For others, it was to welcome people through their doors to ask questions. And for some, it was to bridge the gap between the older and the younger generation, which by the way is something that many faiths are grappling with right now. And for some it was simply to build neighborhood solidarity in advance of feared election violence. When asked why yellow, one imam beautifully said, "Yellow is the color of the sun. The sun shines on us all equally. It does not discriminate." He and others spread the word through their congregations and over the radio. Municipal government officials stepped forward and helped with permits and with convening civil society organizations. A paint company donated a thousand liters of yellow paint mixed especially for us in what they now call "optimistic yellow." (Laughter) (Applause) And a poetry collective joined forces with a university and hosted a series of tweet chats that challenged the nation on issues of faith, our faith not just in the context of religion, but our faith in politicians and tribe and nation, our faith in the older generation and in the younger generation. And then Colour in Faith was launched at a gallery event that invited an incredible mix of gallerygoers and religious leaders and artists and businesspeople. Already, even before picking up a paintbrush, we had accomplished so much of the conversation and connection that we had hoped for. And then we began to paint. Muslims stood by Christians and atheists and agnostics and Hindus and painted a mosque yellow. And then they all came together again and painted a church yellow, and then another mosque, and then another church. Poets and musicians performed while we painted. We painted in Nairobi, and then we painted in Mombasa. The local and international press did features on Colour in Faith in English and French and Swahili and Spanish and Somali. CNN highlighted Colour in Faith as a way of bringing communities together. And our social media platforms lit up, connecting more and more people. And these neighbors continued to stay in touch. There are some that are pursuing politics with a platform of peace, and we have communities as far as Argentina and the US and as close as Mali and Rwanda that are asking for our help. And we would love to help. It's our dream that this project, this idea, spreads across the world, with or without our support. Colour in Faith is literally highlighting those who mean well in yellow. Colour in Faith is binding neighborhoods together, and it's our hope that when threats come knocking, they will collectively sift fact from rumor and stand in solidarity. We've proven that the human family can come together and send a message far brighter and more powerful than the voices of those that wish to do us harm. Though fear is infectious, we are showing that so is hope. Thank you. (Applause) |
Future tech will give you the benefits of city life anywhere | {0: "UPS's Julio Gil thinks that technology is flipping the equation on future cities, and that rural may soon become the new urban."} | TED@UPS | Today, more than half of the world's population lives in cities. The urbanization process started in the late 1700s and has been increasing since then. The prediction is that by 2050, 66 percent of the population will live in cities and the United Nations, the World Health Organization, the World Economic Forum, are warning us, if we don't plan for the increased density, current problems in our cities, like inequality, congestion, crime can only get worse. As a result, urban planners and city developers are putting a lot of effort and creativity in designing our future, denser, bigger cities. But I have a different opinion. I think urbanization is actually reaching the end of its cycle, and now people are going to start moving back to the countryside. And you may think, "But what about the trend?" Well, let me tell you, socioeconomic trends don't last forever. You know, 12,000 years ago everybody was perfectly happy roaming the land, hunting and gathering. And then, the trend changes, and the new thing is to live in a farm and have cattle, until it changes again. When we get to the industrial revolution. Actually, that is what started the urbanization process. And you know what triggered it? Steam power, machines, new chemical processes — in two words, technological innovation. And I believe technology can also bring the end of this cycle. I've been working on innovation for most of my career. I love it. I love my job. It allows me to work with drones, with 3D printers and smart glasses, and not just those you can buy in the shop but also prototypes. It's a lot of fun sometimes. Now, some of these technologies are opening new possibilities that will radically change the way we did things before and in a few years, they may allow us to enjoy the benefits of city life from anywhere. Think about it. If you could live in a place with a lower crime rate and more space and a lower cost of living and less traffic, of course many people would want that, but they feel they don't have a choice. You have to live in the city. Well, in the past, people moved to the cities not because they loved the city itself but for the things you could have in a city, more job opportunities, easier access to services and goods and a rich social life. So let's dive deeper. More jobs and career opportunities. Is that still true today, because the office people are starting to realize that working in the office and being in the office may not be the same thing anymore. According to a study by Global Workplace Analytics, more than 80 percent of the US workforce would like to work from home. And do you know how much it costs for a company to even have an office? 11,000 dollars per employee per year. If only half of those workers would telework even 50 percent of the time, the savings in the states would exceed 500 billion dollars, and it could reduce greenhouse gases by 54 million tons. That is the equivalent of 10 million cars off the streets for a whole year. But even though most people would want to telework, current technology makes the experience isolating. It's not comfortable. It doesn't feel like being there. But that is going to change by the convergence of two technologies: augmented reality and telepresence robots. Augmented reality already today allows you to take your office environment everywhere with you. All you need is a wearable computer, a pair of smart glasses, and you can take your emails and your spreadsheets with you wherever you go. And video conferences and video calls have become very common these days, but they still need improvement. I mean, all those little faces on a flat screen, sometimes you don't even know who is talking. Now, we already have something way better than static videocalls: your average telepresence robot. I call it tablet on a stick. (Laughter) You can control, you can move around, you can control what you're looking at. It's way better, but far from perfect. You know how they say that most human communication is nonverbal? Well, the robot doesn't give you any of that. It looks like an alien. But with advances in augmented reality, it will be easy to wrap the robot in a nice hologram that actually looks and moves like a person. That will do it. Or else, forget the robot. We go full VR, and everybody meets in cyberspace. Give it a couple of years and that will feel so real, you won't tell the difference. So what was the next reason why people move to cities? Access to services and goods. But today you can do all that online. According to a study made by comScore, online shoppers in the US last year did more than half of their retail purchases online, and the global market for e-commerce is estimated to be at two trillion dollars. And it's expected to reach 2.38 by the end of 2017, according to eMarketer. Now, from a logistics standpoint, density is good for deliveries. Supplying goods to a shopping mall is easy. You can send big shipments to the shop, and people will go there, pick it up and take it home themselves. E-commerce means we need to ship onesies and have them home delivered. That's more expensive. It's like the difference between having a birthday party for 20 people or bringing a piece of the cake to each of your 20 friends at their place. But at least in the city, they live close to each other. Density helps. Now, e-commerce deliveries in the countryside, those take forever. The truck sometimes needs to drive miles between one address and the next one. Those are the most expensive deliveries of all. But we already have a solution for that: drones. A vehicle carrying a squadron of drones. The driver does some of the deliveries while the drones are flying back and forth from the truck as it moves. That way, the average cost for delivery is reduced, and voila: affordable e-commerce services in the countryside. You will see: the new homes of our teleworkers will probably have a drone pod in the yard. So once the final mile delivery is not a problem, you don't need to be in the city to buy things anymore. So that's two. Now, what was the third reason why people move to cities? A rich social life. They would need to be in the city for that these days. Because people these days, they make friends, they chat, gossip and flirt from the comfort of their sofa. (Laughter) And while wearing their favorite pajamas. (Laughter) There are over two billion active social media users in the world. In a way, that makes you think like we are connected no matter where we are. But OK, not completely. Sometimes you still need some real human contact. Ironically, the city, with its population density, is not always the best for that. Actually, as social groups become smaller, they grow stronger. A recent study made in the UK by the Office for National Statistics showed a higher life satisfaction rating among people living in rural areas. So as people settle in the countryside, well, they will buy local groceries, fresh groceries, foodstuff, maintenance services. So handymen, small workshops, service companies will thrive. Maybe some of the industrial workers from the cities displaced by the automation will find a nice alternative job here, and they will move too. And as people move to the countryside, how is that going to be? Think about autonomous, off-the-grid houses with solar panels, with wind turbines and waste recycling utilities, our new homes producing their own energy and using it to also power the family car. I mean, cities have always been regarded as being more energy-efficient, but let me tell you, repopulating the countryside can be eco too. By now, you're probably thinking of all the advantages of country living. (Laughter) I did it myself. Six years ago, my wife and I, we packed our stuff, we sold our little apartment in Spain, and for the same money we bought a house with a garden and little birds that come singing in the morning. (Laughter) It's so nice there. And we live in a small village, not really the countryside yet. That is going to be my next move: a refurbished farmhouse, not too far from a city, not too close. And now we'll make sure to have a good spot for drones to land. (Laughter) But hey, that's me. It doesn't have to be you, because it would seem like I'm trying to convince somebody to come join us in the country. I'm not. (Laughter) I don't need more people to come. (Laughter) I just think they will once they realize they can have the same benefits the city has. But if you don't like the country, I have good news for you, too. Cities will not disappear. But as people move out, a lower density will help them recover a better flow and balance. Anyway, I guess now you have some thinking to do. Do you still think you need to live in the city? And more importantly, do you want to? Thank you very much. (Applause) |
The warmth and wisdom of mud buildings | {0: 'Anna Heringer’s sustainable designs lend breathtaking forms to easily-available local materials while developing the skills and consciousness of their builders.'} | TED2017 | It was the end of October in the mountains in Austria. I was there on a field trip with my architecture students from Zurich. And when we reached a high valley, I surprised them with the news that there was no hut or hotel booked for the night. It was not a mistake. It was totally on purpose. The challenge was to build our own shelter with whatever we could find. And we all survived. It was cold, it was really tough ... and it was a great learning experience to discover that there are a lot of resources given by nature for free, and all that we need is our sensitivity to see them ... and our creativity to use them. I found myself in a similar situation. When I was an architecture student about 13 years ago, I went to Bangladesh to a remote village called Rudrapur with the aim to design and build a school as my thesis project. I had lived in that village before when I was 19 and a volunteer at Dipshikha, a Bangladeshi NGO for rural development. And what I had learned from them was that the most sustainable strategy for sustainable development is to cherish and to use your very own resources and potential, and not get dependent on external factors. And this is what I tried to do with my architecture as well. In terms of suitable building materials for my school, I didn't have to look far. They were right under my feet: mud, earth, dirt, clay, however you call it ... and bamboo that was growing all around. Electricity in remote Bangladesh is rare, but we didn't need it. We had human energy and the people were happy to have the work. Tools were an issue, too, but we had these guys, water buffalos. We had also tried a bit cows, but interestingly, they were too intelligent. They were always stepping in the holes of the previous round. They wouldn't mix the mud, the straw — (Laughter) the sand, which are the ingredients in the walls. And except a small team of consultants like my partner for realization, Eike Roswag, and my basket-weaver cousin, Emmanuel, it was all built by craftsmen from the village. And this is the METI school after six months of construction. (Applause) Thank you. (Applause) Load-bearing earth walls that really ground the school, and large bamboo structures that bring the lightness in. That's the classroom on the ground floor. Attached to it are the caves. They're for reading, for snuggling, for solo work, for meditation, for playing ... and the classroom on the top. The children all signed with their names in Bengali the doors, and they did not only sign, they also helped building the school. And I'm sure you all had your hands in mud or clay before. It's wonderful to touch. I love it. The children loved it. And can you imagine the feeling of a small boy or a girl or an illiterate day laborer standing in front of that school building and knowing that you built this out of the ordinary bamboo and just the dirt underneath your feet, using nothing but your hands? That gives such an enormous boost of trust and confidence in yourself and the community. And in the material. Especially mud has a very poor image. When we think of mud, we think of dirt — it's ugly, it's nondurable — and this is the image I want to change. In fact, it's the 11th rainy season for this school now, really harsh, horizontal monsoon rains, and the walls are standing strong. (Applause) So how does it work? First rule, a good foundation that keeps the wall dry from the ground, and second rule, a good roof that protects from the top, and third rule, erosion control. Mud walls need speed breakers so that the rainwater cannot run down the wall fast, and these speed breakers could be lines of bamboo or stones or straw mixed into the mud, just like a hill needs trees or rocks in order to prevent erosion. It works just the same way. And people always ask me if I have to add cement to the mud, and the answer is no. There is no stabilizer, no coating on these walls, only in the foundation. So this is the close-up of the wall after 10 rainy seasons, and as much as I grew a bit older, the wall got some wrinkles as well. The edges my not be as sharp as before, but it still looks pretty good, and if it needs repairing, it is really easy to do. You just take the broken part, make it wet, and put it back on the wall, and it will look the same as before. Wish that would work on me, too. (Laughter) Yeah, and the great thing is, if an earth wall is not needed anymore, it can go back to the ground it came from, turn into a garden, or get fully recycled without any loss of quality. There's no other material that can do this, and this is why mud is so excellent in terms of environmental performance. What about the economic sustainability? When we built the school, I practically lived on the construction site, and in the evening, I used to go with the workers to the market, and I could see how they spent their money. And they would buy the vegetables from their neighbors, they would get a new haircut or a new blouse from the tailor. And because the main part of the building budget was spent on craftsmanship, the school wasn't just a building, it became a real catalyst for local development, and that made me happy. If I had designed the school in cement and steel, this money would have been exported and lost for those families. (Applause) The building budget at that time was 35,000 euros — it's probably doubled by now — and this is a lot of money for that region, and especially because this money is working within the community and rotating fast, and not on the stock market. So when it comes to the economic sustainability of my project, my main question is, who gets the profit? How many of you in here have some experience living in a mud house? Chris Anderson, where is your hand? (Laughter) You? OK. Yeah. It seems totally out of our focus, but approximately three billion people all around the planet are living in earth houses, and it is a traditional building material in Europe just as much as in Africa. Strangely enough, mud is not considered worthy of being studied at universities ... so I brought the dirt to Harvard, (Laughter) precisely 60 tons of dirt right in front of the main facade of the Graduate School of Design. Students and faculty rolled up their sleeves, got their hands dirty and transformed the front into a warm place for people to gather. Children would climb the structures, skaters would ride the ramp, students having lunch breaks, and it was particularly fascinating to see how many people were touching the wall, and we usually don't go around cities caressing our facades, right? (Laughter) (Laughter) Of course, this was a small-scale project, but in terms of awareness-building and in terms of education, it was like an acupuncture trigger point. And in fact, in more and more countries, load-bearing earthen structures are not allowed to be built anymore although they're traditional and have lasted for hundreds of years, and not because the material is weak, but because there are no architects and engineers who know how to deal with that material. So education on all levels, for craftsmen, engineers and architects, is really strongly needed. Equally important is technological development, like prefabrication developed by my colleague Martin Rauch, who is an Austrian artist and expert in earthen structures. And he has created technologies for rammed earth elements, for prefabrication of rammed earth elements that include insulation, wall heatings and coolings and all sorts of electrical fittings that can be layered to multistoried buildings, and this is important in order to scale up and in order to [speed] up the processes, like in the Ricola Herb Center in Switzerland. And finally, we need good built projects that prove you can build with an ancient material in a very modern way. It is not a matter of how old a material is; it's a matter of our creative ability to use it today. These, for example, are three hostels that I did in China in the village Baoxi, about six hours by bus from Shanghai. The outside shape is woven bamboo, and the inside core is stones and rammed earth. And it is a traditional building material. Even large parts of the Great Wall of China have been built with rammed earth, but it's getting replaced by concrete. And this trend is happening very fast. Within only a couple of years, China has consumed more cement than the United States in the entire 20th century. And this trend of replacing natural building materials with materials that require a lot of energy, that are energy-intensive, and that emit CO2 is really clearly contributing to climate change. And we have alternatives, such as mud, stones, timber, bamboo, earth, that are totally effective options for all sorts of purposes. This, for example, is an office building that we did for Omicron Electronics in Austria. Mud is healthy for the planet, but also for the human bodies, and the material is low-tech, but the performance is high-tech. The earth walls keep the highly sophisticated tools in the building safe by naturally regulating moisture. And this wall in my own home is our humidfier. We love our six tons of dirt at home not only because it's healthy and sustainable. Its archaic warmth is touching deep within. My personal dream is to build a mud skyscraper right in Manhattan. (Laughter) Yeah. (Applause) And this dream isn't so crazy if you think of the mud city of Shibam in Yemen that was built in the 16th century and has lasted now for 500 years. What was possible that long ago is possible today as well, and we can apply all our technical know-how to these ancient materials so that it meets our needs and our dreams. All around us, and just below our feet ... are wonderful natural building materials. Let's use them. And I deeply believe our homes, our work spaces, our cities would become more healthy and sustainable and more humane and beautiful. Thank you. (Applause) |
What I learned as a prisoner in North Korea | {0: 'Euna Lee strives to be a voice for the voiceless and a window for those with no access to outside information.'} | TEDxIndianaUniversity | I recently read about what the young generation of workers want in Harvard Business Review. One thing that stuck out to me was: don't just talk about impact, but make an impact. I'm a little bit older than you, maybe much older than you, but this is exactly the same goal that I had when I was in college. I wanted to make my own impact for those who live under injustice; it's the reason that I became a documentary journalist, the reason I became a prisoner in North Korea for 140 days. It was March 17, 2009. It is St. Patrick's Day for all of you, but it was the day that turned my life upside down. My team and I were making a documentary about North Korean refugees living below human life in China. We were at the border. It was our last day of filming. There was no wire fence or bars or sign to show that it is the border, but this is a place that a lot of North Korean defectors use as an escape route. It was still winter, and the river was frozen. When we were in the middle of the frozen river, we were filming about the condition of the cold weather and the environment that North Koreans had to deal with when they seek their freedom. And suddenly, one of my team members shouted, "Soldiers!" So I looked back, and there were two small soldiers in green uniforms with rifles, chasing after us. We all ran as fast as we could. I prayed that, please don't let them shoot my head. And I was thinking that, if my feet are on Chinese soil, I'll be safe. And I made it to Chinese soil. Then I saw my colleague Laura Ling fall on her knees. I didn't know what to do at that short moment, but I knew that I could not leave her alone there when she said, "Euna, I can't feel my legs." In a flash, we were surrounded by these two Korean soldiers. They were not much bigger than us, but they were determined to take us to their army base. I begged and yelled for any kind of help, hoping that someone would show up from China. Here I was, being stubborn towards a trained soldier with a gun. I looked at his eyes. He was just a boy. At that moment, he raised his rifle to hit me, but I saw that he was hesitating. His eyes were shaking, and his rifle was still up in the air. So I shouted at him, "OK, OK, I'll walk with you." And I got up. When we arrived at their army base, my head was spinning with these worst-case scenarios, and my colleague's statement wasn't helping. She said, "We are the enemy." She was right: we were the enemy. And I was supposed to be frightened, too. But I kept having these odd experiences. This time, an officer brought me his coat to keep me warm, because I lost my coat on the frozen river while battling with one of these soldiers. I will tell you what I mean by these odd experiences. I grew up in South Korea. To us, North Korea was always the enemy, even before I was born. South and North have been under armistice for 63 years, since the end of the Korean War. And growing up in the South in the '80s and '90s, we were taught propaganda about North Korea. And we heard so many graphic stories, such as, a little young boy being brutally killed by North Korean spies just because he said, "I don't like communists." Or, I watched this cartoon series about a young South Korean boy defeating these fat, big, red pig, which represented the North Koreans' first leader at the time. And the effect of hearing these horrible stories over and over instilled one word in a young mind: "enemy." And I think at some point, I dehumanized them, and the people of North Korea became equated with the North Korean government. Now, back to my detention. It was the second day of being in a cell. I had not slept since I was out at the border. This young guard came to my cell and offered me this small boiled egg and said, "This will give you strength to keep going." Do you know what it is like, receiving a small kindness in the enemy's hand? Whenever they were kind to me, I thought the worst case was waiting for me after the kindness. One officer noticed my nervousness. He said, "Did you think we were all these red pigs?" referring to the cartoon that I just showed you. Every day was like a psychological battle. The interrogator had me sit at a table six days a week and had me writing down about my journey, my work, over and over until I wrote down the confession that they wanted to hear. After about three months of detention, the North Korean court sentenced me to 12 years in a labor camp. So I was just sitting in my room to be transferred. At that time, I really had nothing else to do, so I paid attention to these two female guards and listened to what they were talking about. Guard A was older, and she studied English. She seemed like she came from an affluent family. She often showed up with these colorful dresses, and then loved to show off. And Guard B was the younger one, and she was a really good singer. She loved to sing Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On" — sometimes too much. She knew just how to torture me without knowing. (Laughter) And this girl spent a lot of time in the morning to put on makeup, like you can see in any young girl's life. And they loved to watch this Chinese drama, a better quality production. I remember Guard B said, "I can no longer watch our TV shows after watching this." She got scolded for degrading her own country's produced TV shows. Guard B had more of a free mind than Guard A, and she often got scolded by Guard A whenever she expressed herself. One day, they invited all these female colleagues — I don't know where they came from — to where I was held, and they invited me to their guard room and asked if one-night stands really happen in the US. (Laughter) This is the country where young couples are not even allowed to hold hands in public. I had no idea where they had gotten this information, but they were shy and giggly even before I said anything. I think we all forgot that I was their prisoner, and it was like going back to my high school classroom again. And I learned that these girls also grew up watching a similar cartoon, but just propaganda towards South Korea and the US. I started to understand where these people's anger was coming from. If these girls grew up learning that we are enemies, it was just natural that they would hate us just as I feared them. But at that moment, we were all just girls who shared the same interests, beyond our ideologies that separated us. I shared these stories with my boss at Current TV at the time after I came home. His first reaction was, "Euna, have you heard of Stockholm Syndrome?" Yes, and I clearly remember the feeling of fear and being threatened, and tension rising up between me and the interrogator when we talked about politics. There definitely was a wall that we couldn't climb over. But we were able to see each other as human beings when we talked about family, everyday life, the importance of the future for our children. It was about a month before I came home. I got really sick. Guard B stopped by my room to say goodbye, because she was leaving the detention center. She made sure that no one watched us, no one heard us, and quietly said, "I hope you get better and go back to your family soon." It is these people — the officer who brought me his coat, the guard who offered me a boiled egg, these female guards who asked me about dating life in the US — they are the ones that I remember of North Korea: humans just like us. North Koreans and I were not ambassadors of our countries, but I believe that we were representing the human race. Now I'm back home and back to my life. The memory of these people has blurred as time has passed. And I'm in this place where I read and hear about North Korea provoking the US. I realized how easy it is to see them as an enemy again. But I have to keep reminding myself that when I was over there, I was able to see humanity over hatred in my enemy's eyes. Thank you. (Applause) |
Lessons from the longest study on human development | {0: 'Helen Pearson\'s book, "The Life Project," tells the extraordinary story of the longest-running study of human development in the world.'} | TED2017 | Today I want to confess something to you, but first of all I'm going to ask you a couple of questions. How many people here have children? And how many of you are confident that you know how to bring up your children in exactly the right way? (Laughter) OK, I don't see too many hands going up on that second one, and that's my confession, too. I've got three boys; they're three, nine and 12. And like you, and like most parents, the honest truth is I have pretty much no idea what I'm doing. I want them to be happy and healthy in their lives, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do to make sure they are happy and healthy. There's so many books offering all kinds of conflicting advice, it can be really overwhelming. So I've spent most of their lives just making it up as I go along. However, something changed me a few years ago, when I came across a little secret that we have in Britain. It's helped me become more confident about how I bring up my own children, and it's revealed a lot about how we as a society can help all children. I want to share that secret with you today. For the last 70 years, scientists in Britain have been following thousands of children through their lives as part of an incredible scientific study. There's nothing quite like it anywhere else in the world. Collecting information on thousands of children is a really powerful thing to do, because it means we can compare the ones who say, do well at school or end up healthy or happy or wealthy as adults, and the ones who struggle much more, and then we can sift through all the information we've collected and try to work out why their lives turned out different. This British study — it's actually a kind of crazy story. So it all starts back in 1946, just a few months after the end of the war, when scientists wanted to know what it was like for a woman to have a baby at the time. They carried out this huge survey of mothers and ended up recording the birth of nearly every baby born in England, Scotland and Wales in one week. That was nearly 14,000 babies. The questions they asked these women are very different than the ones we might ask today. They sound really old-fashioned now. They asked them things like, "During pregnancy, did you get your full extra ration of a pint of milk a day?" "How much did you spend on smocks, corsets, nightdresses, knickers and brassieres?" And this is my favorite one: "Who looked after your husband while you were in bed with this baby?" (Laughter) Now, this wartime study actually ended up being so successful that scientists did it again. They recorded the births of thousands of babies born in 1958 and thousands more in 1970. They did it again in the early 1990s, and again at the turn of the millennium. Altogether, more than 70,000 children have been involved in these studies across those five generations. They're called the British birth cohorts, and scientists have gone back and recorded more information on all of these people every few years ever since. The amount of information that's now been collected on these people is just completely mind-boggling. It includes thousands of paper questionnaires and terabytes' worth of computer data. Scientists have also built up a huge bank of tissue samples, which includes locks of hair, nail clippings, baby teeth and DNA. They've even collected 9,000 placentas from some of the births, which are now pickled in plastic buckets in a secure storage warehouse. This whole project has become unique — so, no other country in the world is tracking generations of children in quite this detail. These are some of the best-studied people on the planet, and the data has become incredibly valuable for scientists, generating well over 6,000 academic papers and books. But today I want to focus on just one finding — perhaps the most important discovery to come from this remarkable study. And it's also the one that spoke to me personally, because it's about how to use science to do the best for our children. So, let's get the bad news out of the way first. Perhaps the biggest message from this remarkable study is this: don't be born into poverty or into disadvantage, because if you are, you're far more likely to walk a difficult path in life. Many children in this study were born into poor families or into working-class families that had cramped homes or other problems, and it's clear now that those disadvantaged children have been more likely to struggle on almost every score. They've been more likely to do worse at school, to end up with worse jobs and to earn less money. Now, maybe that sounds really obvious, but some of the results have been really surprising, so children who had a tough start in life are also more likely to end up unhealthy as adults. They're more likely to be overweight, to have high blood pressure, and then decades down the line, more likely to have a failing memory, poor health and even to die earlier. Now, I talked about what happens later, but some of these differences emerge at a really shockingly early age. In one study, children who were growing up in poverty were almost a year behind the richer children on educational tests, and that was by the age of just three. These types of differences have been found again and again across the generations. It means that our early circumstances have a profound influence on the way that the rest of our lives play out. And working out why that is is one of the most difficult questions that we face today. So there we have it. The first lesson for successful life, everyone, is this: choose your parents very carefully. (Laughter) Don't be born into a poor family or into a struggling family. Now, I'm sure you can see the small problem here. We can't choose our parents or how much they earn, but this British study has also struck a real note of optimism by showing that not everyone who has a disadvantaged start ends up in difficult circumstances. As you know, many people have a tough start in life, but they end up doing very well on some measure nevertheless, and this study starts to explain how. So the second lesson is this: parents really matter. In this study, children who had engaged, interested parents, ones who had ambition for their future, were more likely to escape from a difficult start. It seems that parents and what they do are really, really important, especially in the first few years of life. Let me give you an example of that. In one study, scientists looked at about 17,000 children who were born in 1970. They sifted all the mountains of data that they had collected to try to work out what allowed the children who'd had a difficult start in life to go on and do well at school nevertheless. In other words, which ones beat the odds. The data showed that what mattered more than anything else was parents. Having engaged, interested parents in those first few years of life was strongly linked to children going on to do well at school later on. In fact, quite small things that parents do are associated with good outcomes for children. Talking and listening to a child, responding to them warmly, teaching them their letters and numbers, taking them on trips and visits. Reading to children every day seems to be really important, too. So in one study, children whose parents were reading to them daily when they were five and then showing an interest in their education at the age of 10, were significantly less likely to be in poverty at the age of 30 than those whose parents weren't doing those things. Now, there are huge challenges with interpreting this type of science. These studies show that certain things that parents do are correlated with good outcomes for children, but we don't necessarily know those behaviors caused the good outcomes, or whether some other factor is getting in the way. For example, we have to take genes into account, and that's a whole other talk in itself. But scientists working with this British study are working really hard to get at causes, and this is one study I particularly love. In this one, they looked at the bedtime routines of about 10,000 children born at the turn of the millennium. Were the children going to bed at regular times, or did they go to bed at different times during the week? The data showed that those children who were going to bed at different times were more likely to have behavioral problems, and then those that switched to having regular bedtimes often showed an improvement in behavior, and that was really crucial, because it suggested it was the bedtime routines that were really helping things get better for those kids. Here's another one to think about. In this one, scientists looked at children who were reading for pleasure. That means that they picked up a magazine, a picture book, a story book. The data showed that children who were reading for pleasure at the ages of five and 10 were more likely to go on in school better, on average, on school tests later in their lives. And not just tests of reading, but tests of spelling and maths as well. This study tried to control for all the confounding factors, so it looked at children who were equally intelligent and from the same social-class background, so it seemed as if it was the reading which really helped those children go on and score better on those school tests later in their lives. Now at the start, I said the first lesson from this study was not to be born into poverty or into disadvantage, because those children tend to follow more difficult paths in their lives. But then I said that parenting matters, and that good parenting, if you can call it that, helps children beat the odds and overcome some of those early disadvantages. So wait, does that actually mean, then, that poverty doesn't matter after all? You could argue it doesn't matter if a child is born poor — as long as their parents are good parents, they're going to do just fine. I don't believe that's true. This study shows that poverty and parenting matter. And one study actually put figures on that, so it looked at children growing up in persistent poverty and how well they were doing at school. The data showed that even when their parents were doing everything right — putting them to bed on time and reading to them every day and everything else — that only got those children so far. Good parenting only reduced the educational gap between the rich and poor children by about 50 percent. Now that means that poverty leaves a really lasting scar, and it means that if we really want to ensure the success and well-being of the next generation, then tackling child poverty is an incredibly important thing to do. Now, what does all this mean for you and me? Are there lessons here we can all take home and use? As a scientist and a journalist, I like to have some science to inform my parenting ... and I can tell you that when you're shouting at your kids to go to bed on time, it really helps to have the scientific literature on your side. (Laughter) And wouldn't it be great to think that all we had to do to have happy, successful children was to talk to them, be interested in their future, put them to bed on time, and give them a book to read? Our job would be done. Now, as you can imagine, the answers aren't quite as simple as that. For one thing, this study looks at what happens to thousands and thousands of children on average, but that doesn't necessarily say what will help my child or your child or any individual child. In the end, each of our children is going to walk their own path, and that's partly defined by the genes they inherit and of course all the experiences they have through their lives, including their interactions with us, their parents. I will tell you what I did after I learned all this. It's a bit embarrassing. I realized I was so busy working, and ironically, learning and writing about this incredible study of British children, that there were days when I hardly even spoke to my own British children. So at home, we introduced talking time, which is just 15 minutes at the end of the day when we talk and listen to the boys. I try better now to ask them what they did today, and to show that I value what they do at school. Of course, I make sure they always have a book to read. I tell them I'm ambitious for their future, and I think they can be happy and do great things. I don't know that any of that will make a difference, but I'm pretty confident it won't do them any harm, and it might even do them some good. Ultimately, if we want happy children, all we can do is listen to the science, and of course, listen to our children themselves. Thank you. |
How LIGO discovered gravitational waves -- and what might be next | {0: 'Gabriela González is part of the collaboration of more than 1,000 scientists who measured for the first time the gravitational waves that Einstein predicted over 100 years ago. '} | TED2017 | A little over 100 years ago, in 1915, Einstein published his theory of general relativity, which is sort of a strange name, but it's a theory that explains gravity. It states that mass — all matter, the planets — attracts mass, not because of an instantaneous force, as Newton claimed, but because all matter — all of us, all the planets — wrinkles the flexible fabric of space-time. Space-time is this thing in which we live and that connects us all. It's like when we lie down on a mattress and distort its contour. The masses move — again, not according to Newton's laws, but because they see this space-time curvature and follow the little curves, just like when our bedmate nestles up to us because of the mattress curvature. (Laughter) A year later, in 1916, Einstein derived from his theory that gravitational waves existed, and that these waves were produced when masses move, like, for example, when two stars revolve around one another and create folds in space-time which carry energy from the system, and the stars move toward each other. However, he also estimated that these effects were so minute, that it would never be possible to measure them. I'm going to tell you the story of how, with the work of hundreds of scientists working in many countries over the course of many decades, just recently, in 2015, we discovered those gravitational waves for the first time. It's a rather long story. It started 1.3 billion years ago. A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away — (Laughter) two black holes were revolving around one another — "dancing the tango," I like to say. It started slowly, but as they emitted gravitational waves, they grew closer together, accelerating in speed, until, when they were revolving at almost the speed of light, they fused into a single black hole that had 60 times the mass of the Sun, but compressed into the space of 360 kilometers. That's the size of the state of Louisiana, where I live. This incredible effect produced gravitational waves that carried the news of this cosmic hug to the rest of the universe. It took us a long time to figure out the effects of these gravitational waves, because the way we measure them is by looking for effects in distances. We want to measure longitudes, distances. When these gravitational waves passed by Earth, which was in 2015, they produced changes in all distances — the distances between all of you, the distances between you and me, our heights — every one of us stretched and shrank a tiny bit. The prediction is that the effect is proportional to the distance. But it's very small: even for distances much greater than my slight height, the effect is infinitesimal. For example, the distance between the Earth and the Sun changed by one atomic diameter. How can that be measured? How could we measure it? Fifty years ago, some visionary physicists at Caltech and MIT — Kip Thorne, Ron Drever, Rai Weiss — thought they could precisely measure distances using lasers that measured distances between mirrors kilometers apart. It took many years, a lot of work and many scientists to develop the technology and develop the ideas. And 20 years later, almost 30 years ago, they started to build two gravitational wave detectors, two interferometers, in the United States. Each one is four kilometers long; one is in Livingston, Louisiana, in the middle of a beautiful forest, and the other is in Hanford, Washington, in the middle of the desert. The interferometers have lasers that travel from the center through four kilometers in-vacuum, are reflected in mirrors and then they return. We measure the difference in the distances between this arm and this arm. These detectors are very, very, very sensitive; they're the most precise instruments in the world. Why did we make two? It's because the signals that we want to measure come from space, but the mirrors are moving all the time, so in order to distinguish the gravitational wave effects — which are astrophysical effects and should show up on the two detectors — we can distinguish them from the local effects, which appear separately, either on one or the other. In September of 2015, we were finishing installing the second-generation technology in the detectors, and we still weren't at the optimal sensitivity that we wanted — we're still not, even now, two years later — but we wanted to gather data. We didn't think we'd see anything, but we were getting ready to start collecting a few months' worth of data. And then nature surprised us. On September 14, 2015, we saw, in both detectors, a gravitational wave. In both detectors, we saw a signal with cycles that increased in amplitude and frequency and then go back down. And they were the same in both detectors. They were gravitational waves. And not only that — in decoding this type of wave, we were able to deduce that they came from black holes fusing together to make one, more than a billion years ago. And that was — (Applause) that was fantastic. At first, we couldn't believe it. We didn't imagine this would happen until much later; it was a surprise for all of us. It took us months to convince ourselves that it was true, because we didn't want to leave any room for error. But it was true, and to clear up any doubt that the detectors really could measure these things, in December of that same year, we measured another gravitational wave, smaller than the first one. The first gravitational wave produced a difference in the distance of four-thousandths of a proton over four kilometers. Yes, the second detection was smaller, but still very convincing by our standards. Despite the fact that these are space-time waves and not sound waves, we like to put them into loudspeakers and listen to them. We call this "the music of the universe." I'd like you to listen to the first two notes of that music. (Chirping sound) (Chirping sound) The second, shorter sound was the last fraction of a second of the two black holes which, in that fraction of a second, emitted vast amounts of energy — so much energy, it was like three Suns converting into energy, following that famous formula, E = mc2. Remember that one? We love this music so much we actually dance to it. I'm going to have you listen again. (Chirping sound) (Chirping sound) It's the music of the universe! (Applause) People frequently ask me now: "What can gravitational waves be used for? And now that you've discovered them, what else is there left to do?" What can gravitational waves be used for? When they asked Borges, "What is the purpose of poetry?" he, in turn, answered, "What's the purpose of dawn? What's the purpose of caresses? What's the purpose of the smell of coffee?" He answered, "The purpose of poetry is pleasure; it's for emotion, it's for living." And understanding the universe, this human curiosity for knowing how everything works, is similar. Since time immemorial, humanity — all of us, everyone, as kids — when we look up at the sky for the first time and see the stars, we wonder, "What are stars?" That curiosity is what makes us human. And that's what we do with science. We like to say that gravitational waves now have a purpose, because we're opening up a new way to explore the universe. Until now, we were able to see the light of the stars via electromagnetic waves. Now we can listen to the sound of the universe, even of things that don't emit light, like gravitational waves. (Applause) Thank you. (Applause) But are they useful? Can't we derive any technology from gravitational waves? Yes, probably. But it will probably take a lot of time. We've developed the technology to detect them, but in terms of the waves themselves, maybe we'll discover 100 years from now that they are useful. But it takes a lot of time to derive technology from science, and that's not why we do it. All technology is derived from science, but we practice science for the enjoyment. What's left to do? A lot. A lot; this is only the beginning. As we make the detectors more and more sensitive — and we have lots of work to do there — not only are we going to see more black holes and be able to catalog how many there are, where they are and how big they are, we'll also be able to see other objects. We'll see neutron stars fuse and turn into black holes. We'll see a black holes being born. We'll be able to see rotating stars in our galaxy produce sinusoidal waves. We'll be able to see explosions of supernovas in our galaxy. We'll be seeing a whole spectrum of new sources. We like to say that we've added a new sense to the human body: now, in addition to seeing, we're able to hear. This is a revolution in astronomy, like when Galileo invented the telescope. It's like when they added sound to silent movies. This is just the beginning. We like to think that the road to science is very long — very fun, but very long — and that we, this large, international community of scientists, working from many countries, together as a team, are helping to build that road; that we're shedding light — sometimes encountering detours — and building, perhaps, a highway to the universe. Thank you. (Applause) |
The magic of Khmer classical dance | {0: 'TED Fellow Prumsodun Ok heals, empowers and advocates using the ancient art of Khmer classical dance.'} | TED2017 | "Robam kbach boran," or the art of Khmer classical dance, is more than 1,000 years old. It was developed as a prayer in movement for rain and fertility, and a prosperity that this meant for an agricultural society. Dancers who were both men and women were offered to temples where they served as living bridges between heaven and earth. Their dancing bodies carried the prayers of the people up to the gods, and the will of the deities was delivered back through them to the people and the land. There are a lot of curves in Khmer dance. Our backs are arched, our knees are bent, our toes are curled, our elbows are hyperflexed and our fingers are curved backwards. All of these curves create a serpentine impression, and this is important because before the introduction of major religions, Khmers, and people all over the world practiced animism. Serpents were especially important in this belief system because in their fluid, curvilinear movement, they mimicked the flow of water. So to invoke the serpent in your dancing body then was to conjure the image of rivers cutting across the earth: inspire the flow of life-giving waters. As you can see then, Khmer classical dance is a transformation of nature, of both the physical world around us and of our own internal universe. We have four primary hand gestures that we use. Can we do them together? Yeah? OK. This is a tree. That tree will grow, and then it will have leaves. After it has leaves, it'll have flowers, and after it has flowers, it'll have fruit. That fruit will drop and a new tree will grow. And in those four gestures is the cycle of life. These four gestures are then used to create a whole entire language with which dancers express themselves. So for example, I can say, "I." "I." In dance that would be ... "I." Or I can say ... "Hey you, come here, come here." In dance ... "Come here," or, "Go, go." (Laughter) "Go." And everything from ... love ... to sadness, to — (Stomping) anger can be expressed through the dance as well. There's a certain magic in the way that things are filtered, transformed and put together to create limitless possibilities in art. The Khmer word for art, silapak, in fact, at its root, means "magic." The artist — the silapakar, or the silapakarani, then, is nothing short of a magician. I am very proud to say that I belong to a long line of magicians, from my teacher, Sophiline Cheam Shapiro, to her teachers who were stars in the royal palace, to the ancient dancers of Angkor and to the primal villagers from which the art form originally took life. That said, our cherished heritage was once almost completely destroyed. If you are wearing glasses, please stand up. If you speak more than one language, please stand up. If you have light skin, please stand up. Your glasses meant that you could afford health care. That second or third language you spoke indicated your elite education. Your light skin meant you didn't have to work beneath the sun. Under the Khmer Rouge, who took over Cambodia from 1975 to 1979, we would all be dead now, targeted because of our assumed privilege. You see, the Khmer Rouge looked to Cambodia, and they saw centuries of rigid inequality. The king and the few elites around him had all the pleasures and comforts of the world while the mass majority suffered from backbreaking labor and harsh poverty. You don't need a history book to see that this is true. The Khmer word for "I," for "me," is khnhom. This very same word can also mean "slave" and dancers were in fact known as knhom preah robam, or "slaves of the sacred dance." The Khmer Rouge sought to end slavery in Cambodia, yet somehow they turned everyone into slaves to do it. They became the oppression that they sought to end. They evacuated the capital and forced people into labor camps. They tore families apart and brainwashed children against their own parents. Everywhere, people were dying and being killed, losing their lives from disease, overwork, execution and starvation. The result of this is that an entire third of Cambodia's population was lost in less than four years, and in that number were 90 percent of Khmer dance artists. In other words, nine out of 10 visions for the tradition and future were lost. Thankfully, however, it was my teacher's teachers, Chea Samy, Soth Sam On and Chheng Phon, who would lead the revival of the art form from the ashes of war and genocide: one student, one gesture, one dance at a time. They wrote the love, magic, beauty, history and philosophy of our lineage into the bodies of the next generation. Nearly 40 years later, Khmer classical dance has been revived to new heights. Yet somehow it still exists in a vulnerable environment. The disastrous effects of war still haunt Khmer people today. It is written in our bodies, manifested in a genetic passage of PTSD and in families facing cyclical poverty and immense cultural rifts and language barriers. Yet beauty is a most resilient thing. Beauty has this ability to grow anywhere and everywhere at any time. Beauty is what connects people through time and place. Beauty is a liberation from suffering. As Khmer artists work to revive our culture and country, we find that there are many paths in which to move forward into the future. And in a tradition where we often don't know the dancer's names, who they were, what their lives were like, what they felt, let me propose that we move forward honestly and openly from "khnhom." Khnhom not as in slave, but as in conscious service. Khnhom: "I," "me," "flowering." My name is Prumsodun Ok. I am Khmer, and I am American. I am the child of refugees, a creator, a healer, and a builder of bridges. I am my teacher's first male student in a tradition understood by many as female, and I founded Cambodia's first gay dance company. I am the incarnation of the beauty, dreams and power of those who came before me. The convergence of past, present and future, and of individual and collective. Let me then play that ancient and ageless role of the artist as messenger, by sharing the words of Chheng Phon "A garden with only one type of flower, or flowers of only one color, is no good." This is a reminder that our strength, growth, survival and very existence, lies in diversity. It is, however, a message of courage as well. For a flower does not ask for anyone's permission to bloom. It was born to offer itself to the world. Fearless love is its nature. Thank you. (Applause) |
Mind-blowing, magnified portraits of insects | {0: 'With his "Microsculpture" series, Levon Biss photographs the incredible details of insects.'} | TED2017 | So, I had been a photographer for 18 years before I began the Microsculpture Project. And in that time, I had shot global ad campaigns, I had the opportunity to photograph some of my generation's icons, and I was traveling the world. I got to a point in my career that I dreamed of getting to, and yet, for some reason, I still felt a little bit unfulfilled. Despite the extraordinary things I was shooting and experiencing, they'd started to feel a little bit ordinary to me. I was also getting concerned about how disposable photography had started to feel in the digital world, and I really wanted to produce images that had a sense of worth again. And I needed a subject that felt extraordinary. Sometimes I wish I had the eyes of a child. And by that I mean, I wish I could look at the world in the same as I did when I was a small boy. I think there is a danger, as we get older, that our curiosity becomes slightly muted or dulled by familiarity. And as a visual creator, one of the challenges for me is to present the familiar in a new and engaging way. Fortunately for me, though, I've got two great kids who are still curious about the world. Sebastian — he's still curious about the world, and in 2014, in spring, he brought in a ground beetle from the garden. There was nothing particularly special about this insect — you know, it was a common species. But he was still curious, and he brought it up to my office, and we decided to look at it under his microscope. He had a little science kit for Christmas. And this is what we saw. Now, when I first saw this, it blew me away. Up here — this is the back of the ground beetle. When I first saw it, it reminded me of a galaxy. And all the time, this had just been outside our window. You know, I was looking for this extraordinary subject, and it took Seb's eyes and curiosity to bring it in to me. So I decided to photograph it for him, and this is what I produced. I basically asked myself two simple questions. The first one: Could I take all my knowledge and skill of photographic lighting and take that onto a subject that's five millimeters long? But also: Could I keep creative control over that lighting on a subject that size? So I practiced on some other found specimens, and I approached the Oxford University Museum of Natural History to see if I could have access to their collection, to progress the project. And I went up there for a meeting, and I showed them some of the images that I'd been shooting, and they could see the kind of detail I was able to get. I don't think they'd ever really seen anything quite like it before, and from that point forward, they gave me open access to their entire collection and the assistance of Dr. James Hogan, their entomologist. Now, over the next two-and-a-half years, I shot 37 insects from their collection. And the way I work is that I essentially split the insect up into multiple sections, and I treat each one of those sections like a small still life. So for example, if I was photographing the eye of the insect, which is normally quite smooth and dome-shaped, then I'd use a light source that is large and soft and diffuse, so I don't get any harsh hot spots on that surface. But once my attention turns over to a hairy leg, that lighting setup will change completely. And so I make that one tiny section look as beautiful as I possibly can, and I work my way across the insect until I have about 20 or 25 different sections. The issue with photography at high magnification is that there is inherently a very shallow depth of field. So to get around that, what I do is, I put my camera on a rail that I can automate to move 10 microns in between each shot. That's about one-seventh the width of a human hair. And then that provides me with a deep stack of images. Each has a tiny sliver of focus all the way through. And I can squash that down to produce one image that is fully focused from front to back. So essentially, that gives me 25 sections that are fully focused and beautifully lit. Now, each one of my images is made up of anywhere between 8- and 10,000 separate shots. They take about three-and-a-half weeks to create, and the file sizes on average are about four gigabytes. So I've got plenty of information to play with when I'm printing. And the prints at the exhibition are around the three-meter mark. In fact, I had a show in Milan two weeks ago, and we had some prints there that were nine meters long. But, you know, I realize that these images still have to work in the digital world. There's no point in me putting all my blood, sweat and tears into these pictures if they're only going to be showing 500 pixels on a screen. So with the help of Rob Chandler and Will Cookson, we developed a website that enables the viewer to immerse themselves into the full four-gigabyte files, and they can explore all that microscopic detail. So if you have the time, and I encourage you, please visit microsculpture.net and go and have a play. It's good fun. I first showed the work at Oxford, and since then, it's moved on to the Middle East. It's now back in Europe and goes to Copenhagen this month. And the feedback has been great. You know, I get emails, actually, from all over the world — from teachers, at the moment, who are using the website in school. The kids are using them on the tablet. They're zooming into the pictures and using it for art class, biology class. And that's not something I planned. That's just a beautiful offshoot of the project. In fact, one of the things I like to do at the exhibitions is actually look at the kiddies' reactions. And, you know, standing in front of a three-meter insect, they could have been horrified. But they're not. They look in wonder. This little chap here, he stood there for five minutes, motionless. (Laughter) And at the end of the day, actually, at the end of the day at the exhibitions, we have to wipe down the lower third of the big prints — (Laughter) just to remove all those sticky handprints, because all they want to do is touch those big bugs. I do want to leave you with one final image, if that's OK. This has to do with Charles Darwin. One of the recent images that I photographed was this one here. I'm talking about the creature in the box, not my cat. And this is a shield bug that Charles Darwin brought back from Australia on the HMS Beagle in 1836. And when I got it home, I stood in my kitchen and stared at it for about 20 minutes. I couldn't believe I was in possession of this beautiful creature. And at that moment, I kind of realized that this validated the project for me. The fact that the museum was willing to risk me playing with this kind of showed me that my images had worth — you know, they weren't disposable. That's the image that I produced. I often wonder, still, when I look at this: What would Charles Darwin make of these images? Do you think he'd like his picture of his shield bug? I hope so. So — (Applause) You know, I think it's strange in a way. I'm a visual person, I'm a creative person, but I still needed the eyes of a child to find my extraordinary subject. That's the way it was. So all I can say is, thank you very much, Sebastian; I am very, very grateful. Thank you. (Applause) |
Don't suffer from your depression in silence | {0: 'Nikki Webber Allen is working to create a safe space for honest conversations about mental health in communities of color.'} | TED Residency | What are you doing on this stage in front of all these people? (Laughter) Run! (Laughter) Run now. That's the voice of my anxiety talking. Even when there's absolutely nothing wrong, I sometimes get this overwhelming sense of doom, like danger is lurking just around the corner. You see, a few years ago, I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety and depression — two conditions that often go hand in hand. Now, there was a time I wouldn't have told anybody, especially not in front of a big audience. As a black woman, I've had to develop extraordinary resilience to succeed. And like most people in my community, I had the misconception that depression was a sign of weakness, a character flaw. But I wasn't weak; I was a high achiever. I'd earned a Master's degree in Media Studies and had a string of high-profile jobs in the film and television industries. I'd even won two Emmy Awards for my hard work. Sure, I was totally spent, I lacked interest in things I used to enjoy, barely ate, struggled with insomnia and felt isolated and depleted. But depressed? No, not me. It took weeks before I could admit it, but the doctor was right: I was depressed. Still, I didn't tell anybody about my diagnosis. I was too ashamed. I didn't think I had the right to be depressed. I had a privileged life with a loving family and a successful career. And when I thought about the unspeakable horrors that my ancestors had been through in this country so that I could have it better, my shame grew even deeper. I was standing on their shoulders. How could I let them down? I would hold my head up, put a smile on my face and never tell a soul. On July 4, 2013, my world came crashing in on me. That was the day I got a phone call from my mom telling me that my 22-year-old nephew, Paul, had ended his life, after years of battling depression and anxiety. There are no words that can describe the devastation I felt. Paul and I were very close, but I had no idea he was in so much pain. Neither one of us had ever talked to the other about our struggles. The shame and stigma kept us both silent. Now, my way of dealing with adversity is to face it head on, so I spent the next two years researching depression and anxiety, and what I found was mind-blowing. The World Health Organization reports that depression is the leading cause of sickness and disability in the world. While the exact cause of depression isn't clear, research suggests that most mental disorders develop, at least in part, because of a chemical imbalance in the brain, and/or an underlying genetic predisposition. So you can't just shake it off. For black Americans, stressors like racism and socioeconomic disparities put them at a 20 percent greater risk of developing a mental disorder, yet they seek mental health services at about half the rate of white Americans. One reason is the stigma, with 63 percent of black Americans mistaking depression for a weakness. Sadly, the suicide rate among black children has doubled in the past 20 years. Now, here's the good news: seventy percent of people struggling with depression will improve with therapy, treatment and medication. Armed with this information, I made a decision: I wasn't going to be silent anymore. With my family's blessing, I would share our story in hopes of sparking a national conversation. A friend, Kelly Pierre-Louis, said, "Being strong is killing us." She's right. We have got to retire those tired, old narratives of the strong black woman and the super-masculine black man, who, no matter how many times they get knocked down, just shake it off and soldier on. Having feelings isn't a sign of weakness. Feelings mean we're human. And when we deny our humanity, it leaves us feeling empty inside, searching for ways to self-medicate in order to fill the void. My drug was high achievement. These days, I share my story openly, and I ask others to share theirs, too. I believe that's what it takes to help people who may be suffering in silence to know that they are not alone and to know that with help, they can heal. Now, I still have my struggles, particularly with the anxiety, but I'm able to manage it through daily mediation, yoga and a relatively healthy diet. (Laughter) If I feel like things are starting to spiral, I make an appointment to see my therapist, a dynamic black woman named Dawn Armstrong, who has a great sense of humor and a familiarity that I find comforting. I will always regret that I couldn't be there for my nephew. But my sincerest hope is that I can inspire others with the lesson that I've learned. Life is beautiful. Sometimes it's messy, and it's always unpredictable. But it will all be OK when you have your support system to help you through it. I hope that if your burden gets too heavy, you'll ask for a hand, too. Thank you. (Applause) |
A global food crisis may be less than a decade away | {0: 'Sara Menker is founder and CEO of Gro Intelligence, a tech company that marries the application of machine learning with domain expertise and enables users to understand and predict global food and agriculture markets.'} | TEDGlobal 2017 | Since 2009, the world has been stuck on a single narrative around a coming global food crisis and what we need to do to avoid it. How do we feed nine billion people by 2050? Every conference, podcast and dialogue around global food security starts with this question and goes on to answer it by saying we need to produce 70 percent more food. The 2050 narrative started to evolve shortly after global food prices hit all-time highs in 2008. People were suffering and struggling, governments and world leaders needed to show us that they were paying attention and were working to solve it. The thing is, 2050 is so far into the future that we can't even relate to it, and more importantly, if we keep doing what we're doing, it's going to hit us a lot sooner than that. I believe we need to ask a different question. The answer to that question needs to be framed differently. If we can reframe the old narrative and replace it with new numbers that tell us a more complete pictures, numbers that everyone can understand and relate to, we can avoid the crisis altogether. I was a commodities trader in my past life and one of the things that I learned trading is that every market has a tipping point, the point at which change occurs so rapidly that it impacts the world and things change forever. Think of the last financial crisis, or the dot-com crash. So here's my concern. We could have a tipping point in global food and agriculture if surging demand surpasses the agricultural system's structural capacity to produce food. This means at this point supply can no longer keep up with demand despite exploding prices, unless we can commit to some type of structural change. This time around, it won't be about stock markets and money. It's about people. People could starve and governments may fall. This question of at what point does supply struggle to keep up with surging demand is one that started off as an interest for me while I was trading and became an absolute obsession. It went from interest to obsession when I realized through my research how broken the system was and how very little data was being used to make such critical decisions. That's the point I decided to walk away from a career on Wall Street and start an entrepreneurial journey to start Gro Intelligence. At Gro, we focus on bringing this data and doing the work to make it actionable, to empower decision-makers at every level. But doing this work, we also realized that the world, not just world leaders, but businesses and citizens like every single person in this room, lacked an actionable guide on how we can avoid a coming global food security crisis. And so we built a model, leveraging the petabytes of data we sit on, and we solved for the tipping point. Now, no one knows we've been working on this problem and this is the first time that I'm sharing what we discovered. We discovered that the tipping point is actually a decade from now. We discovered that the world will be short 214 trillion calories by 2027. The world is not in a position to fill this gap. Now, you'll notice that the way I'm framing this is different from how I started, and that's intentional, because until now this problem has been quantified using mass: think kilograms, tons, hectograms, whatever your unit of choice is in mass. Why do we talk about food in terms of weight? Because it's easy. We can look at a photograph and determine tonnage on a ship by using a simple pocket calculator. We can weigh trucks, airplanes and oxcarts. But what we care about in food is nutritional value. Not all foods are created equal, even if they weigh the same. This I learned firsthand when I moved from Ethiopia to the US for university. Upon my return back home, my father, who was so excited to see me, greeted me by asking why I was fat. Now, turns out that eating approximately the same amount of food as I did in Ethiopia, but in America, had actually lent a certain fullness to my figure. This is why we should care about calories, not about mass. It is calories which sustain us. So 214 trillion calories is a very large number, and not even the most dedicated of us think in the hundreds of trillions of calories. So let me break this down differently. An alternative way to think about this is to think about it in Big Macs. 214 trillion calories. A single Big Mac has 563 calories. That means the world will be short 379 billion Big Macs in 2027. That is more Big Macs than McDonald's has ever produced. So how did we get to these numbers in the first place? They're not made up. This map shows you where the world was 40 years ago. It shows you net calorie gaps in every country in the world. Now, simply put, this is just calories consumed in that country minus calories produced in that same country. This is not a statement on malnutrition or anything else. It's simply saying how many calories are consumed in a single year minus how many are produced. Blue countries are net calorie exporters, or self-sufficient. They have some in storage for a rainy day. Red countries are net calorie importers. The deeper, the brighter the red, the more you're importing. 40 years ago, such few countries were net exporters of calories, I could count them with one hand. Most of the African continent, Europe, most of Asia, South America excluding Argentina, were all net importers of calories. And what's surprising is that China used to actually be food self-sufficient. India was a big net importer of calories. 40 years later, this is today. You can see the drastic transformation that's occurred in the world. Brazil has emerged as an agricultural powerhouse. Europe is dominant in global agriculture. India has actually flipped from red to blue. It's become food self-sufficient. And China went from that light blue to the brightest red that you see on this map. How did we get here? What happened? So this chart shows you India and Africa. Blue line is India, red line is Africa. How is it that two regions that started off so similarly in such similar trajectories take such different paths? India had a green revolution. Not a single African country had a green revolution. The net outcome? India is food self-sufficient and in the past decade has actually been exporting calories. The African continent now imports over 300 trillion calories a year. Then we add China, the green line. Remember the switch from the blue to the bright red? What happened and when did it happen? China seemed to be on a very similar path to India until the start of the 21st century, where it suddenly flipped. A young and growing population combined with significant economic growth made its mark with a big bang and no one in the markets saw it coming. This flip was everything to global agricultural markets. Luckily now, South America was starting to boom at the same time as China's rise, and so therefore, supply and demand were still somewhat balanced. So the question becomes, where do we go from here? Oddly enough, it's not a new story, except this time it's not just a story of China. It's a continuation of China, an amplification of Africa and a paradigm shift in India. By 2023, Africa's population is forecasted to overtake that of India's and China's. By 2023, these three regions combined will make up over half the world's population. This crossover point starts to present really interesting challenges for global food security. And a few years later, we're hit hard with that reality. What does the world look like in 10 years? So far, as I mentioned, India has been food self-sufficient. Most forecasters predict that this will continue. We disagree. India will soon become a net importer of calories. This will be driven both by the fact that demand is growing from a population growth standpoint plus economic growth. It will be driven by both. And even if you have optimistic assumptions around production growth, it will make that slight flip. That slight flip can have huge implications. Next, Africa will continue to be a net importer of calories, again driven by population growth and economic growth. This is again assuming optimistic production growth assumptions. Then China, where population is flattening out, calorie consumption will explode because the types of calories consumed are also starting to be higher-calorie-content foods. And so therefore, these three regions combined start to present a really interesting challenge for the world. Until now, countries with calorie deficits have been able to meet these deficits by importing from surplus regions. By surplus regions, I'm talking about North America, South America and Europe. This line chart over here shows you the growth and the projected growth over the next decade of production from North America, South America and Europe. What it doesn't show you is that most of this growth is actually going to come from South America. And most of this growth is going to come at the huge cost of deforestation. And so when you look at the combined demand increase coming from India, China and the African continent, and look at it versus the combined increase in production coming from India, China, the African continent, North America, South America and Europe, you are left with a 214-trillion-calorie deficit, one we can't produce. And this, by the way, is actually assuming we take all the extra calories produced in North America, South America and Europe and export them solely to India, China and Africa. What I just presented to you is a vision of an impossible world. We can do something to change that. We can change consumption patterns, we can reduce food waste, or we can make a bold commitment to increasing yields exponentially. Now, I'm not going to go into discussing changing consumption patterns or reducing food waste, because those conversations have been going on for some time now. Nothing has happened. Nothing has happened because those arguments ask the surplus regions to change their behavior on behalf of deficit regions. Waiting for others to change their behavior on your behalf, for your survival, is a terrible idea. It's unproductive. So I'd like to suggest an alternative that comes from the red regions. China, India, Africa. China is constrained in terms of how much more land it actually has available for agriculture, and it has massive water resource availability issues. So the answer really lies in India and in Africa. India has some upside in terms of potential yield increases. Now this is the gap between its current yield and the theoretical maximum yield it can achieve. It has some unfarmed arable land remaining, but not much, India is quite land-constrained. Now, the African continent, on the other hand, has vast amounts of arable land remaining and significant upside potential in yields. Somewhat simplified picture here, but if you look at sub-Saharan African yields in corn today, they are where North American yields were in 1940. We don't have 70-plus years to figure this out, so it means we need to try something new and we need to try something different. The solution starts with reforms. We need to reform and commercialize the agricultural industries in Africa and in India. Now, by commercialization — commercialization is not about commercial farming alone. Commercialization is about leveraging data to craft better policies, to improve infrastructure, to lower the transportation costs and to completely reform banking and insurance industries. Commercialization is about taking agriculture from too risky an endeavor to one where fortunes can be made. Commercialization is not about just farmers. Commercialization is about the entire agricultural system. But commercialization also means confronting the fact that we can no longer place the burden of growth on small-scale farmers alone, and accepting that commercial farms and the introduction of commercial farms could provide certain economies of scale that even small-scale farmers can leverage. It is not about small-scale farming or commercial agriculture, or big agriculture. We can create the first successful models of the coexistence and success of small-scale farming alongside commercial agriculture. This is because, for the first time ever, the most critical tool for success in the industry — data and knowledge — is becoming cheaper by the day. And very soon, it won't matter how much money you have or how big you are to make optimal decisions and maximize probability of success in reaching your intended goal. Companies like Gro are working really hard to make this a reality. So if we can commit to this new, bold initiative, to this new, bold change, not only can we solve the 214-trillion gap that I talked about, but we can actually set the world on a whole new path. India can remain food self-sufficient and Africa can emerge as the world's next dark blue region. The new question is, how do we produce 214 trillion calories to feed 8.3 billion people by 2027? We have the solution. We just need to act on it. Thank you. (Applause) |
How to seek truth in the era of fake news | {0: 'TV news legend Christiane Amanpour is known for her uncompromising approach to reporting and interviewing.', 1: 'After a long career in journalism and publishing, Chris Anderson became the curator of the TED Conference in 2002 and has developed it as a platform for identifying and disseminating ideas worth spreading.'} | TEDGlobal>NYC | Chris Anderson: Christiane, great to have you here. So you've had this amazing viewpoint, and perhaps it's fair to say that in the last few years, there have been some alarming developments that you're seeing. What's alarmed you most? Christiane Amanpour: Well, just listening to the earlier speakers, I can frame it in what they've been saying: climate change, for instance — cities, the threat to our environment and our lives. It basically also boils down to understanding the truth and to be able to get to the truth of what we're talking about in order to really be able to solve it. So if 99.9 percent of the science on climate is empirical, scientific evidence, but it's competing almost equally with a handful of deniers, that is not the truth; that is the epitome of fake news. And so for me, the last few years — certainly this last year — has crystallized the notion of fake news in a way that's truly alarming and not just some slogan to be thrown around. Because when you can't distinguish between the truth and fake news, you have a very much more difficult time trying to solve some of the great issues that we face. CA: Well, you've been involved in this question of, what is balance, what is truth, what is impartiality, for a long time. You were on the front lines reporting the Balkan Wars 25 years ago. And back then, you famously said, by calling out human right abuses, you said, "Look, there are some situations one simply cannot be neutral about, because when you're neutral, you are an accomplice." So, do you feel that today's journalists aren't heeding that advice about balance? CA: Well, look, I think for journalists, objectivity is the golden rule. But I think sometimes we don't understand what objectivity means. And I actually learned this very, very young in my career, which was during the Balkan Wars. I was young then. It was about 25 years ago. And what we faced was the wholesale violation, not just of human rights, but all the way to ethnic cleansing and genocide, and that has been adjudicated in the highest war crimes court in the world. So, we know what we were seeing. Trying to tell the world what we were seeing brought us accusations of bias, of siding with one side, of not seeing the whole side, and just, you know, trying to tell one story. I particularly and personally was accused of siding with, for instance, the citizens of Sarajevo — "siding with the Muslims," because they were the minority who were being attacked by Christians on the Serb side in this area. And it worried me. It worried me that I was being accused of this. I thought maybe I was wrong, maybe I'd forgotten what objectivity was. But then I started to understand that what people wanted was actually not to do anything — not to step in, not to change the situation, not to find a solution. And so, their fake news at that time, their lie at that time — including our government's, our democratically elected government's, with values and principles of human rights — their lie was to say that all sides are equally guilty, that this has been centuries of ethnic hatred, whereas we knew that wasn't true, that one side had decided to kill, slaughter and ethnically cleanse another side. So that is where, for me, I understood that objectivity means giving all sides an equal hearing and talking to all sides, but not treating all sides equally, not creating a forced moral equivalence or a factual equivalence. And when you come up against that crisis point in situations of grave violations of international and humanitarian law, if you don't understand what you're seeing, if you don't understand the truth and if you get trapped in the fake news paradigm, then you are an accomplice. And I refuse to be an accomplice to genocide. (Applause) CH: So there have always been these propaganda battles, and you were courageous in taking the stand you took back then. Today, there's a whole new way, though, in which news seems to be becoming fake. How would you characterize that? CA: Well, look — I am really alarmed. And everywhere I look, you know, we're buffeted by it. Obviously, when the leader of the free world, when the most powerful person in the entire world, which is the president of the United States — this is the most important, most powerful country in the whole world, economically, militarily, politically in every which way — and it seeks to, obviously, promote its values and power around the world. So we journalists, who only seek the truth — I mean, that is our mission — we go around the world looking for the truth in order to be everybody's eyes and ears, people who can't go out in various parts of the world to figure out what's going on about things that are vitally important to everybody's health and security. So when you have a major world leader accusing you of fake news, it has an exponential ripple effect. And what it does is, it starts to chip away at not just our credibility, but at people's minds — people who look at us, and maybe they're thinking, "Well, if the president of the United States says that, maybe somewhere there's a truth in there." CH: Presidents have always been critical of the media — CA: Not in this way. CH: So, to what extent — (Laughter) (Applause) CH: I mean, someone a couple years ago looking at the avalanche of information pouring through Twitter and Facebook and so forth, might have said, "Look, our democracies are healthier than they've ever been. There's more news than ever. Of course presidents will say what they'll say, but everyone else can say what they will say. What's not to like? How is there an extra danger?" CA: So, I wish that was true. I wish that the proliferation of platforms upon which we get our information meant that there was a proliferation of truth and transparency and depth and accuracy. But I think the opposite has happened. You know, I'm a little bit of a Luddite, I will confess. Even when we started to talk about the information superhighway, which was a long time ago, before social media, Twitter and all the rest of it, I was actually really afraid that that would put people into certain lanes and tunnels and have them just focusing on areas of their own interest instead of seeing the broad picture. And I'm afraid to say that with algorithms, with logarithms, with whatever the "-ithms" are that direct us into all these particular channels of information, that seems to be happening right now. I mean, people have written about this phenomenon. People have said that yes, the internet came, its promise was to exponentially explode our access to more democracy, more information, less bias, more varied information. And, in fact, the opposite has happened. And so that, for me, is incredibly dangerous. And again, when you are the president of this country and you say things, it also gives leaders in other undemocratic countries the cover to affront us even worse, and to really whack us — and their own journalists — with this bludgeon of fake news. CH: To what extent is what happened, though, in part, just an unintended consequence, that the traditional media that you worked in had this curation-mediation role, where certain norms were observed, certain stories would be rejected because they weren't credible, but now that the standard for publication and for amplification is just interest, attention, excitement, click, "Did it get clicked on?" "Send it out there!" and that's what's — is that part of what's caused the problem? CA: I think it's a big problem, and we saw this in the election of 2016, where the idea of "clickbait" was very sexy and very attractive, and so all these fake news sites and fake news items were not just haphazardly and by happenstance being put out there, there's been a whole industry in the creation of fake news in parts of Eastern Europe, wherever, and you know, it's planted in real space and in cyberspace. So I think that, also, the ability of our technology to proliferate this stuff at the speed of sound or light, just about — we've never faced that before. And we've never faced such a massive amount of information which is not curated by those whose profession leads them to abide by the truth, to fact-check and to maintain a code of conduct and a code of professional ethics. CH: Many people here may know people who work at Facebook or Twitter and Google and so on. They all seem like great people with good intention — let's assume that. If you could speak with the leaders of those companies, what would you say to them? CA: Well, you know what — I'm sure they are incredibly well-intentioned, and they certainly developed an unbelievable, game-changing system, where everybody's connected on this thing called Facebook. And they've created a massive economy for themselves and an amazing amount of income. I would just say, "Guys, you know, it's time to wake up and smell the coffee and look at what's happening to us right now." Mark Zuckerberg wants to create a global community. I want to know: What is that global community going to look like? I want to know where the codes of conduct actually are. Mark Zuckerberg said — and I don't blame him, he probably believed this — that it was crazy to think that the Russians or anybody else could be tinkering and messing around with this avenue. And what have we just learned in the last few weeks? That, actually, there has been a major problem in that regard, and now they're having to investigate it and figure it out. Yes, they're trying to do what they can now to prevent the rise of fake news, but, you know, it went pretty unrestricted for a long, long time. So I guess I would say, you know, you guys are brilliant at technology; let's figure out another algorithm. Can we not? CH: An algorithm that includes journalistic investigation — CA: I don't really know how they do it, but somehow, you know — filter out the crap! (Laughter) And not just the unintentional — (Applause) but the deliberate lies that are planted by people who've been doing this as a matter of warfare for decades. The Soviets, the Russians — they are the masters of war by other means, of hybrid warfare. And this is a — this is what they've decided to do. It worked in the United States, it didn't work in France, it hasn't worked in Germany. During the elections there, where they've tried to interfere, the president of France right now, Emmanuel Macron, took a very tough stand and confronted it head on, as did Angela Merkel. CH: There's some hope to be had from some of this, isn't there? That the world learns. We get fooled once, maybe we get fooled again, but maybe not the third time. Is that true? CA: I mean, let's hope. But I think in this regard that so much of it is also about technology, that the technology has to also be given some kind of moral compass. I know I'm talking nonsense, but you know what I mean. CH: We need a filter-the-crap algorithm with a moral compass — CA: There you go. CH: I think that's good. CA: No — "moral technology." We all have moral compasses — moral technology. CH: I think that's a great challenge. CA: You know what I mean. CH: Talk just a minute about leadership. You've had a chance to speak with so many people across the world. I think for some of us — I speak for myself, I don't know if others feel this — there's kind of been a disappointment of: Where are the leaders? So many of us have been disappointed — Aung San Suu Kyi, what's happened recently, it's like, "No! Another one bites the dust." You know, it's heartbreaking. (Laughter) Who have you met who you have been impressed by, inspired by? CA: Well, you talk about the world in crisis, which is absolutely true, and those of us who spend our whole lives immersed in this crisis — I mean, we're all on the verge of a nervous breakdown. So it's pretty stressful right now. And you're right — there is this perceived and actual vacuum of leadership, and it's not me saying it, I ask all these — whoever I'm talking to, I ask about leadership. I was speaking to the outgoing president of Liberia today, [Ellen Johnson Sirleaf,] who — (Applause) in three weeks' time, will be one of the very rare heads of an African country who actually abides by the constitution and gives up power after her prescribed term. She has said she wants to do that as a lesson. But when I asked her about leadership, and I gave a quick-fire round of certain names, I presented her with the name of the new French president, Emmanuel Macron. And she said — I said, "So what do you think when I say his name?" And she said, "Shaping up potentially to be a leader to fill our current leadership vacuum." I thought that was really interesting. Yesterday, I happened to have an interview with him. I'm very proud to say, I got his first international interview. It was great. It was yesterday. And I was really impressed. I don't know whether I should be saying that in an open forum, but I was really impressed. (Laughter) And it could be just because it was his first interview, but — I asked questions, and you know what? He answered them! (Laughter) (Applause) There was no spin, there was no wiggle and waggle, there was no spend-five-minutes- to-come-back-to-the-point. I didn't have to keep interrupting, which I've become rather renowned for doing, because I want people to answer the question. And he answered me, and it was pretty interesting. And he said — CH: Tell me what he said. CA: No, no, you go ahead. CH: You're the interrupter, I'm the listener. CA: No, no, go ahead. CH: What'd he say? CA: OK. You've talked about nationalism and tribalism here today. I asked him, "How did you have the guts to confront the prevailing winds of anti-globalization, nationalism, populism when you can see what happened in Brexit, when you could see what happened in the United States and what might have happened in many European elections at the beginning of 2017?" And he said, "For me, nationalism means war. We have seen it before, we have lived through it before on my continent, and I am very clear about that." So he was not going to, just for political expediency, embrace the, kind of, lowest common denominator that had been embraced in other political elections. And he stood against Marine Le Pen, who is a very dangerous woman. CH: Last question for you, Christiane. TED is about ideas worth spreading. If you could plant one idea into the minds of everyone here, what would that be? CA: I would say really be careful where you get your information from; really take responsibility for what you read, listen to and watch; make sure that you go to the trusted brands to get your main information, no matter whether you have a wide, eclectic intake, really stick with the brand names that you know, because in this world right now, at this moment right now, our crises, our challenges, our problems are so severe, that unless we are all engaged as global citizens who appreciate the truth, who understand science, empirical evidence and facts, then we are just simply going to be wandering along to a potential catastrophe. So I would say, the truth, and then I would come back to Emmanuel Macron and talk about love. I would say that there's not enough love going around. And I asked him to tell me about love. I said, "You know, your marriage is the subject of global obsession." (Laughter) "Can you tell me about love? What does it mean to you?" I've never asked a president or an elected leader about love. I thought I'd try it. And he said — you know, he actually answered it. And he said, "I love my wife, she is part of me, we've been together for decades." But here's where it really counted, what really stuck with me. He said, "It is so important for me to have somebody at home who tells me the truth." So you see, I brought it home. It's all about the truth. (Laughter) CH: So there you go. Truth and love. Ideas worth spreading. Christiane Amanpour, thank you so much. That was great. (Applause) CA: Thank you. CH: That was really lovely. (Applause) CA: Thank you. |
How Africa can use its traditional knowledge to make progress | {0: 'Working across disciplines, Chika Ezeanya-Esiobu explores homegrown and grassroots approaches to the sustainable advancement of Sub-Saharan Africa.'} | TEDGlobal 2017 | Some months back, I was visiting this East African city, and we were stuck in traffic. And this vendor suddenly approaches my window with a half-opened alphabet sheet. I took a quick look at the alphabet sheet, and I thought of my daughter, how it would be nice to spread it on the floor and just play all over it with her while getting her to learn the alphabet. So the traffic moved a bit, and I quickly grabbed a copy, and we moved on. When I had time to fully open the alphabet sheet and take a more detailed look at it, I knew I was not going to use that to teach my daughter. I regretted my purchase. Why so? Looking at the alphabet sheet reminded me of the fact that not much has changed in the education curricula in Africa. Some decades back, I was taught out of a similar alphabet sheet. And because of that, I struggled for years. I struggled to reconcile my reality with the formal education I received in school, in the schools I attended. I had identity crises. I looked down on my reality. I looked at my ancestry, I looked at my lineage with disrespect. I had very little patience for what my life had to offer around me. Why? "A is for apple." "A is for apple." "A is for apple" is for that child in that part of the world where apples grow out; who has an apple in her lunch bag; who goes to the grocery store with her mom and sees red, green, yellow — apples of all shapes and colors and sizes. And so, introducing education to this child with an alphabet sheet like this fulfills one of the major functions of education, which is to introduce the learner to an appreciation of the learner's environment and a curiosity to explore more in order to add value. In my own case, when and where I grew up in Africa, apple was an exotic fruit. Two or three times a year, I could get some yellowish apples with brown dots, you know, signifying thousands of miles traveled — warehouses storing — to get to me. I grew up in the city to very financially comfortable parents, so it was my dignified reality, exactly the same way cassava fufu or ugali would not regularly feature in an American, Chinese or Indian diet, apples didn't count as part of my reality. So what this did to me, introducing education to me with "A is for apple," made education an abstraction. It made it something out of my reach — a foreign concept, a phenomenon for which I would have to constantly and perpetually seek the validation of those it belonged to for me to make progress within it and with it. That was tough for a child; it would be tough for anyone. As I grew up and I advanced academically, my reality was further separated from my education. In history, I was taught that the Scottish explorer Mungo Park discovered the Niger River. And so it bothered me. My great-great-grandparents grew up quite close to the edge of the Niger River. (Laughter) And it took someone to travel thousands of miles from Europe to discover a river right under their nose? (Laughter) No! (Applause and cheers) What did they do with their time? (Laughter) Playing board games, roasting fresh yams, fighting tribal wars? I mean, I just knew my education was preparing me to go somewhere else and practice and give to another environment that it belonged to. It was not for my environment, where and when I grew up. And this continued. This philosophy undergirded my studies all through the time I studied in Africa. It took a lot of experiences and some studies for me to begin to have a change of mindset. I will share a couple of the remarkable ones with us. I was in the United States in Washington, DC studying towards my doctorate, and I got this consultancy position with the World Bank Africa Region. And so I remember one day, my boss — we were having a conversation on some project, and he mentioned a particular World Bank project, a large-scale irrigation project that cost millions of dollars in Niger Republic that was faltering sustainably. He said this project wasn't so sustainable, and it bothered those that instituted the whole package. But then he mentioned a particular project, a particular traditional irrigation method that was hugely successful in the same Niger Republic where the World Bank project was failing. And that got me thinking. So I did further research, and I found out about Tassa. Tassa is a traditional irrigation method where 20- to 30-centimeter-wide and 20- to 30-centimeter-deep holes are dug across a field to be cultivated. Then, a small dam is constructed around the field, and then crops are planted across the surface area. What happens is that when rain falls, the holes are able to store the water and appropriate it to the extent that the plant needs the water. The plant can only assimilate as much water as needed until harvest time. Niger is 75 percent scorched desert, so this is something that is a life-or-death situation, and it has been used for centuries. In an experiment that was conducted, two similar plots of land were used in the experiment, and one plot of land did not have the Tassa technique on it. Similar plots. The other one had Tassa technique constructed on it. Then similar grains of millet also were planted on both plots. During harvest time, the plot of land without Tassa technique yielded 11 kilograms of millet per hectare. The plot of land with Tassa technique yielded 553 kilograms of millet per hectare. (Applause) I looked at the research, and I looked at myself. I said, "I studied agriculture for 12 years, from primary to Senior Six, as we say in East Africa, SS3 in West Africa or 12th grade. No one ever taught me of any form of traditional African knowledge of cultivation — of harvesting, of anything — that will work in modern times and actually succeed, where something imported from the West would struggle to succeed. That was when I knew the challenge, the challenge of Africa's curricula, And I thus began my quest to dedicate my life, concern my life work, to studying, conducting research on Africa's own knowledge system and being able to advocate for its mainstreaming in education, in research, policy across sectors and industries. Another conversation and experience I had at the bank I guess made me take that final decision of where I was going to go, even though it wasn't the most lucrative research to go into, but it was just about what I believed in. And so one day, my boss said that he likes to go to Africa to negotiate World Bank loans and to work on World Bank projects. And I was intrigued. I asked him why. He said, "Oh, when I go to Africa, it's so easy. I just write up my loan documents and my project proposal in Washington, DC, I go to Africa, and they all just get signed. I get the best deal, and I'm back to base. My bosses are happy with me." But then he said, "I hate going to Asia or ..." and he mentioned a particular country, Asia and some of these countries. "They keep me for this, trying to get the best deal for their countries. They get the best deal. They tell me, 'Oh, that clause will not work for us in our environment. It's not our reality. It's just so Western.' And they tell me, 'Oh, we have enough experts to take care of this. You don't have enough experts. We know our aim.' And they just keep going through all these things. By the time they finish, yes, they get the best deal, but I'm so exhausted and I don't get the best deal for the bank, and we're in business." "Really?" I thought in my head, "OK." I was privileged to sit in on a loan negotiating session in an African country. So I would do these consultancy positions during summer, you know, since I was a doctoral student. And then I traveled with the team, with the World Bank team, as more like someone to help out with organizational matters. But I sat in during the negotiating session. I had mostly Euro-Americans, you know, with me from Washington, DC. And I looked across the table at my African brothers and sisters. I could see intimidation on their faces. They didn't believe they had anything to offer the great-great-grandchildren of Mungo Park — the owners of "apple" in "A is for apple." They just sat and watched: "Oh, just give us, let us sign. You own the knowledge. You know it all. Just, where do we sign? Show us, let us sign." They had no voice. They didn't believe in themselves. Excuse me. And so, I have been doing this for a decade. I have been conducting research on Africa's knowledge system, original, authentic, traditional knowledge. In the few cases where this has been implemented in Africa, there has been remarkable successes recorded. I think of Gacaca. Gacaca is Rwanda's traditional judicial system that was used after the genocide. In 1994, when the genocide ended, Rwanda's national court system was in shambles: no judges, no lawyers to try hundreds of thousands of genocide cases. So the government of Rwanda came up with this idea to resuscitate a traditional judicial system known as Gacaca. Gacaca is a community-based judicial system, where community members come together to elect men and women of proven integrity to try cases of crimes committed within these communities. So by the time Gacaca concluded its trial of genocide cases in 2012, 12,000 community-based courts had tried approximately 1.2 million cases. That's a record. (Applause) Most importantly is that Gacaca emphasized Rwanda's traditional philosophy of reconciliation and reintegration, as against the whole punitive and banishment idea that undergirds present-day Western style. And not to compare, but just to say that it really emphasized Rwanda's traditional method of philosophy. And so it was Mwalimu Julius Nyerere, former president of Tanzania — (Applause) who said that you cannot develop people. People will have to develop themselves. I agree with Mwalimu. I am convinced that Africa's further transformation, Africa's advancement, rests simply in the acknowledgment, validation and mainstreaming of Africa's own traditional, authentic, original, indigenous knowledge in education, in research, in policy making and across sectors. This is not going to be easy for Africa. It is not going to be easy for a people used to being told how to think, what to do, how to go about it, a people long subjected to the intellectual guidance and direction of others, be they the colonial masters, aid industry or international news media. But it is a task that we have to do to make progress. I am strengthened by the words of Joseph Shabalala, founder of the South African choral group Ladysmith Black Mambazo. He said that the task ahead of us can never, ever be greater than the power within us. We can do it. We can unlearn looking down on ourselves. We can learn to place value on our reality and our knowledge. Thank you. (Swahili) Thank you very much. (Applause) Thank you. Thank you. (Applause) |
Electrical experiments with plants that count and communicate | {0: 'TED Fellow Greg Gage helps kids investigate the neuroscience in their own backyards.'} | TED2017 | I'm a neuroscientist, and I'm the co-founder of Backyard Brains, and our mission is to train the next generation of neuroscientists by taking graduate-level neuroscience research equipment and making it available for kids in middle schools and high schools. And so when we go into the classroom, one way to get them thinking about the brain, which is very complex, is to ask them a very simple question about neuroscience, and that is, "What has a brain?" When we ask that, students will instantly tell you that their cat or dog has a brain, and most will say that a mouse or even a small insect has a brain, but almost nobody says that a plant or a tree or a shrub has a brain. And so when you push — because this could actually help describe a little bit how the brain actually functions — so you push and say, "Well, what is it that makes living things have brains versus not?" And often they'll come back with the classification that things that move tend to have brains. And that's absolutely correct. Our nervous system evolved because it is electrical. It's fast, so we can quickly respond to stimuli in the world and move if we need to. But you can go back and push back on a student, and say, "Well, you know, you say that plants don't have brains, but plants do move." Anyone who has grown a plant has noticed that the plant will move and face the sun. But they'll say, "But that's a slow movement. You know, that doesn't count. That could be a chemical process." But what about fast-moving plants? Now, in 1760, Arthur Dobbs, the Royal Governor of North Carolina, made a pretty fascinating discovery. In the swamps behind his house, he found a plant that would spring shut every time a bug would fall in between it. He called this plant the flytrap, and within a decade, it made its way over to Europe, where eventually the great Charles Darwin got to study this plant, and this plant absolutely blew him away. He called it the most wonderful plant in the world. This is a plant that was an evolutionary wonder. This is a plant that moves quickly, which is rare, and it's carnivorous, which is also rare. And this is in the same plant. But I'm here today to tell you that's not even the coolest thing about this plant. The coolest thing is that the plant can count. So in order to show that, we have to get some vocabulary out of the way. So I'm going to do what we do in the classroom with students. We're going to do an experiment on electrophysiology, which is the recording of the body's electrical signal, either coming from neurons or from muscles. And I'm putting some electrodes here on my wrists. As I hook them up, we're going to be able to see a signal on the screen here. And this signal may be familiar to you. It's called the EKG, or the electrocardiogram. And this is coming from neurons in my heart that are firing what's called action potentials, potential meaning voltage and action meaning it moves quickly up and down, which causes my heart to fire, which then causes the signal that you see here. And so I want you to remember the shape of what we'll be looking at right here, because this is going to be important. This is a way that the brain encodes information in the form of an action potential. So now let's turn to some plants. So I'm going to first introduce you to the mimosa, not the drink, but the Mimosa pudica, and this is a plant that's found in Central America and South America, and it has behaviors. And the first behavior I'm going to show you is if I touch the leaves here, you get to see that the leaves tend to curl up. And then the second behavior is, if I tap the leaf, the entire branch seems to fall down. So why does it do that? It's not really known to science. One of the reasons why could be that it scares away insects or it looks less appealing to herbivores. But how does it do that? Now, that's interesting. We can do an experiment to find out. So what we're going to do now, just like I recorded the electrical potential from my body, we're going to record the electrical potential from this plant, this mimosa. And so what we're going to do is I've got a wire wrapped around the stem, and I've got the ground electrode where? In the ground. It's an electrical engineering joke. Alright. (Laughter) Alright. So I'm going to go ahead and tap the leaf here, and I want you to look at the electrical recording that we're going to see inside the plant. Whoa. It is so big, I've got to scale it down. Alright. So what is that? That is an action potential that is happening inside the plant. Why was it happening? Because it wanted to move. Right? And so when I hit the touch receptors, it sent a voltage all the way down to the end of the stem, which caused it to move. And now, in our arms, we would move our muscles, but the plant doesn't have muscles. What it has is water inside the cells and when the voltage hits it, it opens up, releases the water, changes the shape of the cells, and the leaf falls. OK. So here we see an action potential encoding information to move. Alright? But can it do more? So let's go to find out. We're going to go to our good friend, the Venus flytrap here, and we're going to take a look at what happens inside the leaf when a fly lands on here. So I'm going to pretend to be a fly right now. And now here's my Venus flytrap, and inside the leaf, you're going to notice that there are three little hairs here, and those are trigger hairs. And so when a fly lands — I'm going to touch one of the hairs right now. Ready? One, two, three. What do we get? We get a beautiful action potential. However, the flytrap doesn't close. And to understand why that is, we need to know a little bit more about the behavior of the flytrap. Number one is that it takes a long time to open the traps back up — you know, about 24 to 48 hours if there's no fly inside of it. And so it takes a lot of energy. And two, it doesn't need to eat that many flies throughout the year. Only a handful. It gets most of its energy from the sun. It's just trying to replace some nutrients in the ground with flies. And the third thing is, it only opens then closes the traps a handful of times until that trap dies. So therefore, it wants to make really darn sure that there's a meal inside of it before the flytrap snaps shut. So how does it do that? It counts the number of seconds between successive touching of those hairs. And so the idea is that there's a high probability, if there's a fly inside of there, they're going to be quick together, and so when it gets the first action potential, it starts counting, one, two, and if it gets to 20 and it doesn't fire again, then it's not going to close, but if it does it within there, then the flytrap will close. So we're going to go back now. I'm going to touch the Venus flytrap again. I've been talking for more than 20 seconds. So we can see what happens when I touch the hair a second time. So what do we get? We get a second action potential, but again, the leaf doesn't close. So now if I go back in there and if I'm a fly moving around, I'm going to be touching the leaf a few times. I'm going to go and brush it a few times. And immediately, the flytrap closes. So here we are seeing the flytrap actually doing a computation. It's determining if there's a fly inside the trap, and then it closes. So let's go back to our original question. Do plants have brains? Well, the answer is no. There's no brains in here. There's no axons, no neurons. It doesn't get depressed. It doesn't want to know what the Tigers' score is. It doesn't have self-actualization problems. But what it does have is something that's very similar to us, which is the ability to communicate using electricity. It just uses slightly different ions than we do, but it's actually doing the same thing. So just to show you the ubiquitous nature of these action potentials, we saw it in the Venus flytrap, we've seen an action potential in the mimosa. We've even seen an action potential in a human. Now, this is the euro of the brain. It's the way that all information is passed. And so what we can do is we can use those action potentials to pass information between species of plants. And so this is our interspecies plant-to-plant communicator, and what we've done is we've created a brand new experiment where we're going to record the action potential from a Venus flytrap, and we're going to send it into the sensitive mimosa. So I want you to recall what happens when we touch the leaves of the mimosa. It has touch receptors that are sending that information back down in the form of an action potential. And so what would happen if we took the action potential from the Venus flytrap and sent it into all the stems of the mimosa? We should be able to create the behavior of the mimosas without actually touching it ourselves. And so if you'll allow me, I'm going to go ahead and trigger this mimosa right now by touching on the hairs of the Venus flytrap. So we're going to send information about touch from one plant to another. So there you see it. So — (Applause) So I hope you learned a little bit, something about plants today, and not only that. You learned that plants could be used to help teach neuroscience and bring along the neurorevolution. Thank you. (Applause) |
The forgotten art of the zoetrope | {0: 'Eric Dyer is an artist and educator who brings animation into the physical world with his sequential images, sculptures and installations. '} | TEDxCharlottesville | A long time ago, I was a professional animator. (Music) [Eric Dyer] [Animator] [Compositor] And at night, I would make my own experimental films. (Music) And I was spending a lot of time, way too much time, in front of a screen for work that would be presented on a screen, and I had this great need to get my hands back on the work again. Now, before "The Simpsons," before "Gumby," before "Betty Boop," before there was such a thing as cinema and television, animation was hugely popular in this form. This is a zoetrope. And you spin this drum, and you look through the slits into the inside of the drum, and you see the animation pop to life. This is animation in physical form, and it's animation I could get my hands on again. I took these ideas to Denmark. I went there with my family on a Fulbright Fellowship. That's my daughter, Mia. I rode around the city on my bicycle and shot all the interesting moving elements of Copenhagen: the boaters in the canals, the colors that explode in spring, the free-use city bikes, love, textures, the healthy cuisine — (Laughter) And I brought all that video back into the physical world by printing it out on these long strips of ink-jet paper and cutting out the forms. Now, I invented my own form of the zoetrope, which removes the drum and replaces the slits with a video camera. And this was very exciting for me, because it meant that I could make these physical objects, and I could make films from those objects. That's me riding on my bicycle. (Laughter) I made about 25 paper sculptures, each the size of a bicycle wheel. I brought them into the studio, spun them and shot them to make the film "Copenhagen Cycles." (Music) This project not only allowed me to get my hands back on the work again but it helped me get my life back. Instead of spending 12, 15 hours a day with my face plastered to a screen, I was having these little adventures with our new family and shooting video along the way, and it was kind of a symbiosis of art and life. And I think that it's no mistake that zoetrope translates into "wheel of life." (Music) But film and video does flatten sculpture, so I tried to imagine a way that animated sculpture could be experienced as such, and also a completely immersive kind of animated sculpture. And that's where I came up with the idea for the zoetrope tunnel. You walk through with a handheld strobe, and wherever you point the flashlight, the animation pops to life. I plan to finish this project in the next 30 to 40 years. (Laughter) But I did build a half-scale prototype. It's covered in Velcro, and I could lay inside on this bridge and stick animated sequences to the walls and test stuff out. People would comment that it reminded them of an MRI. And that medical connection spoke to me, because at the age of 14, I was diagnosed with a degenerative retinal condition that's slowly taking my vision away, and I'd never responded to that in my work. So I responded to it in this piece called, "Implant." It is an imaginary, super-magnified medical device that fits around the optic nerve. And the public is, in a sense, miniaturized to experience it. With a handheld strobe, they can explore the sculpture, and discover thousands of cell-sized robots hard at work, leaping in and out of the optic nerve, being deployed to the retina to repair it. It's my science fiction fantasy cure of my own incurable disorder. (Machine buzzes) Now, in the real-world gene therapy and gene therapy research, healthy genes are being administered to unhealthy cells using viruses. There's a lot of colorful, fluffy hope in this, and there's also some creepy, threatening idea of viruses maybe becoming an invasive species in your body. Vision loss has helped to take me away from the things that disconnect me from the world. Instead of being sealed off in an automobile, I ride my bike, take buses and trains and walk a lot. And instead of a visually intensive process in the studio, primarily, I'm also getting outdoors a lot more and using more of my senses. This landscape is a couple hours east of San Diego, California. My brother lives out that way. He and I went camping there for four days. And I grabbed my camera, and I walked through the canyons. And I tried to imagine and figure out what kind of motion would be present in this place that was so still and so devoid of motion. I think it's the stillest place I've ever been. And I realized that it was the movement of my own body through the landscape that was creating the animation. It was the motion of changing perspective. So I created this piece called "Mud Caves" from those photographs. It's a multilayered print piece, and you can think of it as a zoetrope laid flat. It's kind of my western landscape panorama. And next to the print piece there's a video monitor that shows the animation hidden within the artwork. I think one of the best parts about this project for me was that I got to hang out with my brother a lot, who lives 2,500 miles away from me. And we would just sit in this seemingly eternal landscape sculpted by water over millions of years and talk. We'd talk about our kids growing up and the slowing pace of our parents, and our dad who's suffering from leukemia, memory loss and infection. And it struck me that, as individuals, we're finite, but as a family, we are an ongoing cycle — a kind of wheel of life. Now, I want to leave you with a tribute to one of my mentors. She reminds me that physical presence is important and that play is not a luxury, but a necessity. She's Pixie, and she's our family dog. And she loves to jump. (Dog barking) (Dog barking and spring boinging) And this is a new kind of zoetrope that I developed at the Imaging Research Center at UMBC in Baltimore. And I call it a "real-time zoetrope." (Dog barking) (Dog barking and spring boinging) Thank you. (Applause) |
Why jobs of the future won't feel like work | {0: 'UPS’s David Lee works to create platforms that make it easier for people to turn fuzzy ideas into concrete solutions.'} | TED@UPS | So there's a lot of valid concern these days that our technology is getting so smart that we've put ourselves on the path to a jobless future. And I think the example of a self-driving car is actually the easiest one to see. So these are going to be fantastic for all kinds of different reasons. But did you know that "driver" is actually the most common job in 29 of the 50 US states? What's going to happen to these jobs when we're no longer driving our cars or cooking our food or even diagnosing our own diseases? Well, a recent study from Forrester Research goes so far to predict that 25 million jobs might disappear over the next 10 years. To put that in perspective, that's three times as many jobs lost in the aftermath of the financial crisis. And it's not just blue-collar jobs that are at risk. On Wall Street and across Silicon Valley, we are seeing tremendous gains in the quality of analysis and decision-making because of machine learning. So even the smartest, highest-paid people will be affected by this change. What's clear is that no matter what your job is, at least some, if not all of your work, is going to be done by a robot or software in the next few years. And that's exactly why people like Mark Zuckerberg and Bill Gates are talking about the need for government-funded minimum income levels. But if our politicians can't agree on things like health care or even school lunches, I just don't see a path where they'll find consensus on something as big and as expensive as universal basic life income. Instead, I think the response needs to be led by us in industry. We have to recognize the change that's ahead of us and start to design the new kinds of jobs that will still be relevant in the age of robotics. The good news is that we have faced down and recovered two mass extinctions of jobs before. From 1870 to 1970, the percent of American workers based on farms fell by 90 percent, and then again from 1950 to 2010, the percent of Americans working in factories fell by 75 percent. The challenge we face this time, however, is one of time. We had a hundred years to move from farms to factories, and then 60 years to fully build out a service economy. The rate of change today suggests that we may only have 10 or 15 years to adjust, and if we don't react fast enough, that means by the time today's elementary-school students are college-aged, we could be living in a world that's robotic, largely unemployed and stuck in kind of un-great depression. But I don't think it has to be this way. You see, I work in innovation, and part of my job is to shape how large companies apply new technologies. Certainly some of these technologies are even specifically designed to replace human workers. But I believe that if we start taking steps right now to change the nature of work, we can not only create environments where people love coming to work but also generate the innovation that we need to replace the millions of jobs that will be lost to technology. I believe that the key to preventing our jobless future is to rediscover what makes us human, and to create a new generation of human-centered jobs that allow us to unlock the hidden talents and passions that we carry with us every day. But first, I think it's important to recognize that we brought this problem on ourselves. And it's not just because, you know, we are the one building the robots. But even though most jobs left the factory decades ago, we still hold on to this factory mindset of standardization and de-skilling. We still define jobs around procedural tasks and then pay people for the number of hours that they perform these tasks. We've created narrow job definitions like cashier, loan processor or taxi driver and then asked people to form entire careers around these singular tasks. These choices have left us with actually two dangerous side effects. The first is that these narrowly defined jobs will be the first to be displaced by robots, because single-task robots are just the easiest kinds to build. But second, we have accidentally made it so that millions of workers around the world have unbelievably boring working lives. (Laughter) Let's take the example of a call center agent. Over the last few decades, we brag about lower operating costs because we've taken most of the need for brainpower out of the person and put it into the system. For most of their day, they click on screens, they read scripts. They act more like machines than humans. And unfortunately, over the next few years, as our technology gets more advanced, they, along with people like clerks and bookkeepers, will see the vast majority of their work disappear. To counteract this, we have to start creating new jobs that are less centered on the tasks that a person does and more focused on the skills that a person brings to work. For example, robots are great at repetitive and constrained work, but human beings have an amazing ability to bring together capability with creativity when faced with problems that we've never seen before. It's when every day brings a little bit of a surprise that we have designed work for humans and not for robots. Our entrepreneurs and engineers already live in this world, but so do our nurses and our plumbers and our therapists. You know, it's the nature of too many companies and organizations to just ask people to come to work and do your job. But if you work is better done by a robot, or your decisions better made by an AI, what are you supposed to be doing? Well, I think for the manager, we need to realistically think about the tasks that will be disappearing over the next few years and start planning for more meaningful, more valuable work that should replace it. We need to create environments where both human beings and robots thrive. I say, let's give more work to the robots, and let's start with the work that we absolutely hate doing. Here, robot, process this painfully idiotic report. (Laughter) And move this box. Thank you. (Laughter) And for the human beings, we should follow the advice from Harry Davis at the University of Chicago. He says we have to make it so that people don't leave too much of themselves in the trunk of their car. I mean, human beings are amazing on weekends. Think about the people that you know and what they do on Saturdays. They're artists, carpenters, chefs and athletes. But on Monday, they're back to being Junior HR Specialist and Systems Analyst 3. (Laughter) You know, these narrow job titles not only sound boring, but they're actually a subtle encouragement for people to make narrow and boring job contributions. But I've seen firsthand that when you invite people to be more, they can amaze us with how much more they can be. A few years ago, I was working at a large bank that was trying to bring more innovation into its company culture. So my team and I designed a prototyping contest that invited anyone to build anything that they wanted. We were actually trying to figure out whether or not the primary limiter to innovation was a lack of ideas or a lack of talent, and it turns out it was neither one. It was an empowerment problem. And the results of the program were amazing. We started by inviting people to reenvision what it is they could bring to a team. This contest was not only a chance to build anything that you wanted but also be anything that you wanted. And when people were no longer limited by their day-to-day job titles, they felt free to bring all kinds of different skills and talents to the problems that they were trying to solve. We saw technology people being designers, marketing people being architects, and even finance people showing off their ability to write jokes. (Laughter) We ran this program twice, and each time more than 400 people brought their unexpected talents to work and solved problems that they had been wanting to solve for years. Collectively, they created millions of dollars of value, building things like a better touch-tone system for call centers, easier desktop tools for branches and even a thank you card system that has become a cornerstone of the employee working experience. Over the course of the eight weeks, people flexed muscles that they never dreamed of using at work. People learned new skills, they met new people, and at the end, somebody pulled me aside and said, "I have to tell you, the last few weeks has been one of the most intense, hardest working experiences of my entire life, but not one second of it felt like work." And that's the key. For those few weeks, people got to be creators and innovators. They had been dreaming of solutions to problems that had been bugging them for years, and this was a chance to turn those dreams into a reality. And that dreaming is an important part of what separates us from machines. For now, our machines do not get frustrated, they do not get annoyed, and they certainly don't imagine. But we, as human beings — we feel pain, we get frustrated. And it's when we're most annoyed and most curious that we're motivated to dig into a problem and create change. Our imaginations are the birthplace of new products, new services, and even new industries. I believe that the jobs of the future will come from the minds of people who today we call analysts and specialists, but only if we give them the freedom and protection that they need to grow into becoming explorers and inventors. If we really want to robot-proof our jobs, we, as leaders, need to get out of the mindset of telling people what to do and instead start asking them what problems they're inspired to solve and what talents they want to bring to work. Because when you can bring your Saturday self to work on Wednesdays, you'll look forward to Mondays more, and those feelings that we have about Mondays are part of what makes us human. And as we redesign work for an era of intelligent machines, I invite you all to work alongside me to bring more humanity to our working lives. Thank you. (Applause) |
3 fears about screen time for kids -- and why they're not true | {0: 'Inspired by Mister Rogers, Sara DeWitt strives to make every child feel special by charting the forefront of new digital mediums where kids spend their time.'} | TED2017 | I want us to start by thinking about this device, the phone that's very likely in your pockets right now. Over 40 percent of Americans check their phones within five minutes of waking up every morning. And then they look at it another 50 times during the day. Grownups consider this device to be a necessity. But now I want you to imagine it in the hands of a three-year-old, and as a society, we get anxious. Parents are very worried that this device is going to stunt their children's social growth; that it's going to keep them from getting up and moving; that somehow, this is going to disrupt childhood. So, I want to challenge this attitude. I can envision a future where we would be excited to see a preschooler interacting with a screen. These screens can get kids up and moving even more. They have the power to tell us more about what a child is learning than a standardized test can. And here's the really crazy thought: I believe that these screens have the power to prompt more real-life conversations between kids and their parents. Now, I was perhaps an unlikely champion for this cause. I studied children's literature because I was going to work with kids and books. But about 20 years ago, I had an experience that shifted my focus. I was helping lead a research study about preschoolers and websites. And I walked in and was assigned a three-year-old named Maria. Maria had actually never seen a computer before. So the first thing I had to do was teach her how to use the mouse, and when I opened up the screen, she moved it across the screen, and she stopped on a character named X the Owl. And when she did that, the owl lifted his wing and waved at her. Maria dropped the mouse, pushed back from the table, leaped up and started waving frantically back at him. Her connection to that character was visceral. This wasn't a passive screen experience. This was a human experience. And it was exactly appropriate for a three-year-old. I've now worked at PBS Kids for more than 15 years, and my work there is focused on harnessing the power of technology as a positive in children's lives. I believe that as a society, we're missing a big opportunity. We're letting our fear and our skepticism about these devices hold us back from realizing their potential in our children's lives. Fear about kids and technology is nothing new; we've been here before. Over 50 years ago, the debate was raging about the newly dominant media: the television. That box in the living room? It might be separating kids from one another. It might keep them away from the outside world. But this is the moment when Fred Rogers, the long-running host of "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood," challenged society to look at television as a tool, a tool that could promote emotional growth. Here's what he did: he looked out from the screen, and he held a conversation, as if he were speaking to each child individually about feelings. And then he would pause and let them think about them. You can see his influence across the media landscape today, but at the time, this was revolutionary. He shifted the way we looked at television in the lives of children. Today it's not just one box. Kids are surrounded by devices. And I'm also a parent — I understand this feeling of anxiety. But I want us to look at three common fears that parents have, and see if we can shift our focus to the opportunity that's in each of them. So. Fear number one: "Screens are passive. This is going to keep our kids from getting up and moving." Chris Kratt and Martin Kratt are zoologist brothers who host a show about animals called "Wild Kratts." And they approached the PBS team to say, "Can we do something with those cameras that are built into every device now? Could those cameras capture a very natural kid play pattern — pretending to be animals?" So we started with bats. And when kids came in to play this game, they loved seeing themselves on-screen with wings. But my favorite part of this, when the game was over and we turned off the screens? The kids kept being bats. They kept flying around the room, they kept veering left and right to catch mosquitoes. And they remembered things. They remembered that bats fly at night. And they remembered that when bats sleep, they hang upside down and fold their wings in. This game definitely got kids up and moving. But also, now when kids go outside, do they look at a bird and think, "How does a bird fly differently than I flew when I was a bat?" The digital technology prompted embodied learning that kids can now take out into the world. Fear number two: "Playing games on these screens is just a waste of time. It's going to distract children from their education." Game developers know that you can learn a lot about a player's skill by looking at the back-end data: Where did a player pause? Where did they make a few mistakes before they found the right answer? My team wanted to take that tool set and apply it to academic learning. Our producer in Boston, WGBH, created a series of Curious George games focused on math. And researchers came in and had 80 preschoolers play these games. They then gave all 80 of those preschoolers a standardized math test. We could see early on that these games were actually helping kids understand some key skills. But our partners at UCLA wanted us to dig deeper. They focus on data analysis and student assessment. And they wanted to take that back-end game-play data and see if they could use it to predict a child's math scores. So they made a neural net — they essentially trained the computer to use this data, and here are the results. This is a subset of the children's standardized math scores. And this is the computer's prediction of each child's score, based on playing some Curious George games. The prediction is astonishingly accurate, especially considering the fact that these games weren't built for assessment. The team that did this study believes that games like these can teach us more about a child's cognitive learning than a standardized test can. What if games could reduce testing time in the classroom? What if they could reduce testing anxiety? How could they give teachers snapshots of insight to help them better focus their individualized learning? So the third fear I want to address is the one that I think is often the biggest. And that's this: "These screens are isolating me from my child." Let's play out a scenario. Let's say that you are a parent, and you need 25 minutes of uninterrupted time to get dinner ready. And in order to do that, you hand a tablet to your three-year-old. Now, this is a moment where you probably feel very guilty about what you just did. But now imagine this: Twenty minutes later, you receive a text message. on that cell phone that's always within arm's reach. And it says: "Alex just matched five rhyming words. Ask him to play this game with you. Can you think of a word that rhymes with 'cat'? Or how about 'ball'?" In our studies, when parents receive simple tips like these, they felt empowered. They were so excited to play these games at the dinner table with their kids. And the kids loved it, too. Not only did it feel like magic that their parents knew what they had been playing, kids love to play games with their parents. Just the act of talking to kids about their media can be incredibly powerful. Last summer, Texas Tech University published a study that the show "Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood" could promote the development of empathy among children. But there was a really important catch to this study: the greatest benefit was only when parents talked to kids about what they watched. Neither just watching nor just talking about it was enough; it was the combination that was key. So when I read this study, I started thinking about how rarely parents of preschoolers actually talk to kids about the content of what they're playing and what they're watching. And so I decided to try it with my four-year-old. I said, "Were you playing a car game earlier today?" And Benjamin perked up and said, "Yes! And did you see that I made my car out of a pickle? It was really hard to open the trunk." (Laughter) This hilarious conversation about what was fun in the game and what could have been better continued all the way to school that morning. I'm not here to suggest to you that all digital media is great for kids. There are legitimate reasons for us to be concerned about the current state of children's content on these screens. And it's right for us to be thinking about balance: Where do screens fit against all the other things that a child needs to do to learn and to grow? But when we fixate on our fears about it, we forget a really major point, and that is, that kids are living in the same world that we live in, the world where the grownups check their phones more than 50 times a day. Screens are a part of children's lives. And if we pretend that they aren't, or if we get overwhelmed by our fear, kids are never going to learn how and why to use them. What if we start raising our expectations for this media? What if we start talking to kids regularly about the content on these screens? What if we start looking for the positive impacts that this technology can have in our children's lives? That's when the potential of these tools can become a reality. Thank you. (Applause) |
The revolutionary power of diverse thought | {0: "Elif Shafak explicitly defies definition -- her writing blends East and West, feminism and tradition, the local and the global, Sufism and rationalism, creating one of today's most unique voices in literature."} | TEDGlobal>NYC | "Can you taste words?" It was a question that caught me by surprise. This summer, I was giving a talk at a literary festival, and afterwards, as I was signing books, a teenage girl came with her friend, and this is what she asked me. I told her that some people experience an overlap in their senses so that they could hear colors or see sounds, and many writers were fascinated by this subject, myself included. But she cut me off, a bit impatiently, and said, "Yeah, I know all of that. It's called synesthesia. We learned it at school. But my mom is reading your book, and she says there's lots of food and ingredients and a long dinner scene in it. She gets hungry at every page. So I was thinking, how come you don't get hungry when you write? And I thought maybe, maybe you could taste words. Does it make sense?" And, actually, it did make sense, because ever since my childhood, each letter in the alphabet has a different color, and colors bring me flavors. So for instance, the color purple is quite pungent, almost perfumed, and any words that I associate with purple taste the same way, such as "sunset" — a very spicy word. But I was worried that if I tell all of this to the teenager, it might sound either too abstract or perhaps too weird, and there wasn't enough time anyhow, because people were waiting in the queue, so it suddenly felt like what I was trying to convey was more complicated and detailed than what the circumstances allowed me to say. And I did what I usually do in similar situations: I stammered, I shut down, and I stopped talking. I stopped talking because the truth was complicated, even though I knew, deep within, that one should never, ever remain silent for fear of complexity. So I want to start my talk today with the answer that I was not able to give on that day. Yes, I can taste words — sometimes, that is, not always, and happy words have a different flavor than sad words. I like to explore: What does the word "creativity" taste like, or "equality," "love," "revolution?" And what about "motherland?" These days, it's particularly this last word that troubles me. It leaves a sweet taste on my tongue, like cinnamon, a bit of rose water and golden apples. But underneath, there's a sharp tang, like nettles and dandelion. The taste of my motherland, Turkey, is a mixture of sweet and bitter. And the reason why I'm telling you this is because I think there's more and more people all around the world today who have similarly mixed emotions about the lands they come from. We love our native countries, yeah? How can we not? We feel attached to the people, the culture, the land, the food. And yet at the same time, we feel increasingly frustrated by its politics and politicians, sometimes to the point of despair or hurt or anger. I want to talk about emotions and the need to boost our emotional intelligence. I think it's a pity that mainstream political theory pays very little attention to emotions. Oftentimes, analysts and experts are so busy with data and metrics that they seem to forget those things in life that are difficult to measure and perhaps impossible to cluster under statistical models. But I think this is a mistake, for two main reasons. Firstly, because we are emotional beings. As human beings, I think we all are like that. But secondly, and this is new, we have entered a new stage in world history in which collective sentiments guide and misguide politics more than ever before. And through social media and social networking, these sentiments are further amplified, polarized, and they travel around the world quite fast. Ours is the age of anxiety, anger, distrust, resentment and, I think, lots of fear. But here's the thing: even though there's plenty of research about economic factors, there's relatively few studies about emotional factors. Why is it that we underestimate feelings and perceptions? I think it's going to be one of our biggest intellectual challenges, because our political systems are replete with emotions. In country after country, we have seen illiberal politicians exploiting these emotions. And yet within the academia and among the intelligentsia, we are yet to take emotions seriously. I think we should. And just like we should focus on economic inequality worldwide, we need to pay more attention to emotional and cognitive gaps worldwide and how to bridge these gaps, because they do matter. Years ago, when I was still living in Istanbul, an American scholar working on women writers in the Middle East came to see me. And at some point in our exchange, she said, "I understand why you're a feminist, because, you know, you live in Turkey." And I said to her, "I don't understand why you're not a feminist, because, you know, you live in America." (Laughter) (Applause) And she laughed. She took it as a joke, and the moment passed. (Laughter) But the way she had divided the world into two imaginary camps, into two opposite camps — it bothered me and it stayed with me. According to this imaginary map, some parts of the world were liquid countries. They were like choppy waters not yet settled. Some other parts of the world, namely the West, were solid, safe and stable. So it was the liquid lands that needed feminism and activism and human rights, and those of us who were unfortunate enough to come from such places had to keep struggling for these most essential values. But there was hope. Since history moved forward, even the most unsteady lands would someday catch up. And meanwhile, the citizens of solid lands could take comfort in the progress of history and in the triumph of the liberal order. They could support the struggles of other people elsewhere, but they themselves did not have to struggle for the basics of democracy anymore, because they were beyond that stage. I think in the year 2016, this hierarchical geography was shattered to pieces. Our world no longer follows this dualistic pattern in the scholar's mind, if it ever did. Now we know that history does not necessarily move forward. Sometimes it draws circles, even slides backwards, and that generations can make the same mistakes that their great-grandfathers had made. And now we know that there's no such thing as solid countries versus liquid countries. In fact, we are all living in liquid times, just like the late Zygmunt Bauman told us. And Bauman had another definition for our age. He used to say we are all going to be walking on moving sands. And if that's the case, I think, it should concern us women more than men, because when societies slide backwards into authoritarianism, nationalism or religious fanaticism, women have much more to lose. That is why this needs to be a vital moment, not only for global activism, but in my opinion, for global sisterhood as well. (Applause) But I want to make a little confession before I go any further. Until recently, whenever I took part in an international conference or festival, I would be usually one of the more depressed speakers. (Laughter) Having seen how our dreams of democracy and how our dreams of coexistence were crushed in Turkey, both gradually but also with a bewildering speed, over the years I've felt quite demoralized. And at these festivals there would be some other gloomy writers, and they would come from places such as Egypt, Nigeria, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Philippines, China, Venezuela, Russia. And we would smile at each other in sympathy, this camaraderie of the doomed. (Laughter) And you could call us WADWIC: Worried and Depressed Writers International Club. (Laughter) But then things began to change, and suddenly our club became more popular, and we started to have new members. I remember — (Laughter) I remember Greek writers and poets joined first, came on board. And then writers from Hungary and Poland, and then, interestingly, writers from Austria, the Netherlands, France, and then writers from the UK, where I live and where I call my home, and then writers from the USA. Suddenly, there were more of us feeling worried about the fate of our nations and the future of the world. And maybe there were more of us now feeling like strangers in our own motherlands. And then this bizarre thing happened. Those of us who used to be very depressed for a long time, we started to feel less depressed, whereas the newcomers, they were so not used to feeling this way that they were now even more depressed. (Laughter) So you could see writers from Bangladesh or Turkey or Egypt trying to console their colleagues from Brexit Britain or from post-election USA. (Laughter) But joking aside, I think our world is full of unprecedented challenges, and this comes with an emotional backlash, because in the face of high-speed change, many people wish to slow down, and when there's too much unfamiliarity, people long for the familiar. And when things get too confusing, many people crave simplicity. This is a very dangerous crossroads, because it's exactly where the demagogue enters into the picture. The demagogue understands how collective sentiments work and how he — it's usually a he — can benefit from them. He tells us that we all belong in our tribes, and he tells us that we will be safer if we are surrounded by sameness. Demagogues come in all sizes and in all shapes. This could be the eccentric leader of a marginal political party somewhere in Europe, or an Islamist extremist imam preaching dogma and hatred, or it could be a white supremacist Nazi-admiring orator somewhere else. All these figures, at first glance — they seem disconnected. But I think they feed each other, and they need each other. And all around the world, when we look at how demagogues talk and how they inspire movements, I think they have one unmistakable quality in common: they strongly, strongly dislike plurality. They cannot deal with multiplicity. Adorno used to say, "Intolerance of ambiguity is the sign of an authoritarian personality." But I ask myself: What if that same sign, that same intolerance of ambiguity — what if it's the mark of our times, of the age we're living in? Because wherever I look, I see nuances withering away. On TV shows, we have one anti-something speaker situated against a pro-something speaker. Yeah? It's good ratings. It's even better if they shout at each other. Even in academia, where our intellect is supposed to be nourished, you see one atheist scholar competing with a firmly theist scholar, but it's not a real intellectual exchange, because it's a clash between two certainties. I think binary oppositions are everywhere. So slowly and systematically, we are being denied the right to be complex. Istanbul, Berlin, Nice, Paris, Brussels, Dhaka, Baghdad, Barcelona: we have seen one horrible terror attack after another. And when you express your sorrow, and when you react against the cruelty, you get all kinds of reactions, messages on social media. But one of them is quite disturbing, only because it's so widespread. They say, "Why do you feel sorry for them? Why do you feel sorry for them? Why don't you feel sorry for civilians in Yemen or civilians in Syria?" And I think the people who write such messages do not understand that we can feel sorry for and stand in solidarity with victims of terrorism and violence in the Middle East, in Europe, in Asia, in America, wherever, everywhere, equally and simultaneously. They don't seem to understand that we don't have to pick one pain and one place over all others. But I think this is what tribalism does to us. It shrinks our minds, for sure, but it also shrinks our hearts, to such an extent that we become numb to the suffering of other people. And the sad truth is, we weren't always like this. I had a children's book out in Turkey, and when the book was published, I did lots of events. I went to many primary schools, which gave me a chance to observe younger kids in Turkey. And it was always amazing to see how much empathy, imagination and chutzpah they have. These children are much more inclined to become global citizens than nationalists at that age. And it's wonderful to see, when you ask them, so many of them want to be poets and writers, and girls are just as confident as boys, if not even more. But then I would go to high schools, and everything has changed. Now nobody wants to be a writer anymore, now nobody wants to be a novelist anymore, and girls have become timid, they are cautious, guarded, reluctant to speak up in the public space, because we have taught them — the family, the school, the society — we have taught them to erase their individuality. I think East and West, we are losing multiplicity, both within our societies and within ourselves. And coming from Turkey, I do know that the loss of diversity is a major, major loss. Today, my motherland became the world's biggest jailer for journalists, surpassing even China's sad record. And I also believe that what happened over there in Turkey can happen anywhere. It can even happen here. So just like solid countries was an illusion, singular identities is also an illusion, because we all have a multiplicity of voices inside. The Iranian, the Persian poet, Hafiz, used to say, "You carry in your soul every ingredient necessary to turn your existence into joy. All you have to do is to mix those ingredients." And I think mix we can. I am an Istanbulite, but I'm also attached to the Balkans, the Aegean, the Mediterranean, the Middle East, the Levant. I am a European by birth, by choice, the values that I uphold. I have become a Londoner over the years. I would like to think of myself as a global soul, as a world citizen, a nomad and an itinerant storyteller. I have multiple attachments, just like all of us do. And multiple attachments mean multiple stories. As writers, we always chase stories, of course, but I think we are also interested in silences, the things we cannot talk about, political taboos, cultural taboos. We're also interested in our own silences. I have always been very vocal about and written extensively about minority rights, women's rights, LGBT rights. But as I was thinking about this TED Talk, I realized one thing: I have never had the courage to say in a public space that I was bisexual myself, because I so feared the slander and the stigma and the ridicule and the hatred that was sure to follow. But of course, one should never, ever, remain silent for fear of complexity. (Applause) And although I am no stranger to anxieties, and although I am talking here about the power of emotions — I do know the power of emotions — I have discovered over time that emotions are not limitless. You know? They have a limit. There comes a moment — it's like a tipping point or a threshold — when you get tired of feeling afraid, when you get tired of feeling anxious. And I think not only individuals, but perhaps nations, too, have their own tipping points. So even stronger than my emotions is my awareness that not only gender, not only identity, but life itself is fluid. They want to divide us into tribes, but we are connected across borders. They preach certainty, but we know that life has plenty of magic and plenty of ambiguity. And they like to incite dualities, but we are far more nuanced than that. So what can we do? I think we need to go back to the basics, back to the colors of the alphabet. The Lebanese poet Khalil Gibran used to say, "I learned silence from the talkative and tolerance from the intolerant and kindness from the unkind." I think it's a great motto for our times. So from populist demagogues, we will learn the indispensability of democracy. And from isolationists, we will learn the need for global solidarity. And from tribalists, we will learn the beauty of cosmopolitanism and the beauty of diversity. As I finish, I want to leave you with one word, or one taste. The word "yurt" in Turkish means "motherland." It means "homeland." But interestingly, the word also means "a tent used by nomadic tribes." And I like that combination, because it makes me think homelands do not need to be rooted in one place. They can be portable. We can take them with us everywhere. And I think for writers, for storytellers, at the end of the day, there is one main homeland, and it's called "Storyland." And the taste of that word is the taste of freedom. Thank you. (Applause) |
How I became an entrepreneur at 66 | {0: 'TED Resident Paul Tasner is the co-founder and CEO of PulpWorks, Inc., designers and manufacturers of biodegradable packaging for consumer goods.'} | TED Residency | I'd like to take you back about seven years in my life. Friday afternoon, a few days before Christmas 2009, I was the director of operations at a consumer products company in San Francisco, and I was called into a meeting that was already in progress. That meeting turned out to be my exit interview. I was fired, along with several others. I was 64 years old at the time. It wasn't completely unexpected. I signed a stack of papers, gathered my personal effects, and left to join my wife who was waiting for me at a nearby restaurant, completely unaware. Fast-forward several hours, we both got really silly drunk. (Laughter) So, 40 plus years of continuous employment for a variety of companies, large and small, was over. I had a good a network, a good reputation — I thought I'd be just fine. I was an engineer in manufacturing and packaging, I had a good background. Retirement was, like for so many people, simply not an option for me, so I turned to consulting for the next couple of years without any passion whatsoever. And then an idea began to take root, born from my concern for our environment. I wanted to build my own business, designing and manufacturing biodegradable packaging from waste — paper, agricultural, even textile waste — replacing the toxic, disposable plastic packaging to which we've all become addicted. This is called clean technology, and it felt really meaningful to me. A venture that could help to reduce the billions of pounds of single-use plastic packaging dumped each year, and polluting our land, our rivers and our oceans, and left for future generations to resolve — our grandchildren, my grandchildren. And so now at the age of 66, with 40 years of experience, I became an entrepreneur for the very first time. (Cheers) (Applause) Thank you. But there's more. (Laughter) Lots of issues to deal with: manufacturing, outsourcing, job creation, patents, partnerships, funding — these are all typical issues for a start-up, but hardly typical for me. And a word about funding. I live and work in San Francisco, and if you're looking for funding, you are typically going to compete with some very young people from the high-tech industry, and it can be very discouraging and intimidating. I have shoes older than most of these people. (Laughter) I do. (Laughter) But five years later, I'm thrilled and proud to share with you that our revenues have doubled every year, we have no debt, we have several marquee clients, our patent was issued, I have a wonderful partner who's been with me right from the beginning, and we've won more than 20 awards for the work that we've done. But best of all, we've made a small dent — a very small dent — in the worldwide plastic pollution crisis. (Applause) And I am doing the most rewarding and meaningful work of my life right now. I can tell you there's lots of resources available to entrepreneurs of all ages, but what I really yearned for five years ago was to find other first-time entrepreneurs who were my age. I wanted to connect with them. I had no role models, absolutely none. That 20-something app developer from Silicon Valley was not my role model. (Laughter) I'm sure he was very clever — (Laughter) I want to do something about that, and I want all of us to do something about that. I want us to start talking more about people who don't become entrepreneurs until they are seniors. Talking about these bold men and women who are checking in when their peers, in essence, are checking out. And then connecting all these people across industries, across regions, across countries — building a community. You know, the Small Business Administration tells us that 64 percent of new jobs created in the private sector in the USA are thanks to small businesses like mine. And who's to say that we'll stay forever small? We have an interesting culture that really expects when you reach a certain age, you're going to be golfing, or playing checkers, or babysitting the grandkids all of the time. And I adore my grandchildren — (Laughter) and I'm also passionate about doing something meaningful in the global marketplace. And I'm going to have lots of company. The Census Bureau says that by 2050, there will be 84 million seniors in this country. That's an amazing number. That's almost twice as many as we have today. Can you imagine how many first-time entrepreneurs there will be among 84 million people? And they'll all have four decades of experience. (Laughter) So when I say, "Let's start talking more about these wonderful entrepreneurs," I mean, let's talk about their ventures, just as we do the ventures of their much younger counterparts. The older entrepreneurs in this country have a 70 percent success rate starting new ventures. 70 percent success rate. We're like the Golden State Warriors of entrepreneurs — (Laughter) (Applause) And that number plummets to 28 percent for younger entrepreneurs. This is according to a UK-based group called CMI. Aren't the accomplishments of a 70-year-old entrepreneur every bit as meaningful, every bit as newsworthy, as the accomplishments of a 30-year-old entrepreneur? Of course they are. That's why I'd like to make the phrase "70 over 70" just as — (Laughter) just as commonplace as the phrase "30 under 30." (Applause) Thank you. (Cheers) (Applause) |
What's hidden under the Greenland ice sheet? | {0: 'Kristin Poinar uses remote sensing and numerical models to study the interaction of meltwater with ice flow, especially on the Greenland Ice Sheet.'} | TED2017 | When was I was 21 years old, I had all this physics homework. Physics homework requires taking breaks, and Wikipedia was relatively new, so I took a lot of breaks there. I kept going back to the same articles, reading them again and again, on glaciers, Antarctica and Greenland. How cool would it be to visit these places and what would it take to do so? Well, here we are on a repurposed Air Force cargo plane operated by NASA flying over the Greenland ice sheet. There's a lot to see here, but there's more that is hidden, waiting to be uncovered. What the Wikipedia articles didn't tell me is that there's liquid water hidden inside the ice sheet, because we didn't know that yet. I did learn on Wikipedia that the Greenland ice sheet is huge, the size of Mexico, and its ice from top to bottom is two miles thick. But it's not just static. The ice flows like a river downhill towards the ocean. As it flows around bends, it deforms and cracks. I get to study these amazing ice dynamics, which are located in one of the most remote physical environments remaining on earth. To work in glaciology right now is like getting in on the ground floor at Facebook in the 2000s. (Laughter) Our capability to fly airplanes and satellites over the ice sheets is revolutionizing glaciology. It's just starting to do for science what the smartphone has done for social media. The satellites are reporting a wealth of observations that are revealing new hidden facts about the ice sheets continuously. For instance, we have observations of the size of the Greenland ice sheet every month going back to 2002. You can look towards the bottom of the screen here to see the month and the year go forward. You can see that some areas of the ice sheet melt or lose ice in the summer. Other areas experience snowfall or gain ice back in the winter. This seasonal cycle, though, is eclipsed by an overall rate of mass loss that would have stunned a glaciologist 50 years ago. We never thought that an ice sheet could lose mass into the ocean this quickly. Since these measurements began in 2002, the ice sheet has lost so much ice that if that water were piled up on our smallest continent, it would drown Australia knee-deep. How is this possible? Well, under the ice lies the bedrock. We used radar to image the hills, valleys, mountains and depressions that the ice flows over. Hidden under the ice sheet are channels the size of the Grand Canyon that funnel ice and water off of Greenland and into the ocean. The reason that radar can reveal the bedrock is that ice is entirely transparent to radar. You can do an experiment. Go home and put an ice cube in the microwave. It won't melt, because microwaves, or radar, pass straight through the ice without interacting. If you want to melt your ice cube, you have to get it wet, because water heats up easily in the microwave. That's the whole principle the microwave oven is designed around. Radar can see water. And radar has revealed a vast pool of liquid water hidden under my colleague Olivia, seven stories beneath her feet. Here, she's used a pump to bring some of that water back to the ice sheet's surface. Just six years ago, we had no idea this glacier aquifer existed. The aquifer formed when snow melts in the summer sun and trickles downward. It puddles up in huge pools. From there, the snow acts as an igloo, insulating this water from the cold and the wind above. So the water can stay hidden in the ice sheet in liquid form year after year. The question is, what happens next? Does the water stay there forever? It could. Or does it find a way out to reach the global ocean? One possible way for the water to reach the bedrock and from there the ocean is a crevasse, or a crack in the ice. When cracks fill with water, the weight of the water forces them deeper and deeper. This is how fracking works to extract natural gas from deep within the earth. Pressurized fluids fracture rocks. All it takes is a crack to get started. Well, we recently discovered that there are cracks available in the Greenland ice sheet near this glacier aquifer. You can fly over most of the Greenland ice sheet and see nothing, no cracks, no features on the surface, but as this helicopter flies towards the coast, the path that water would take on its quest to flow downhill, one crack appears, then another and another. Are these cracks filled with liquid water? And if so, how deep do they take that water? Can they take it to the bedrock and the ocean? To answer these questions, we need something beyond remote sensing data. We need numeric models. I write numeric models that run on supercomputers. A numeric model is simply a set of equations that works together to describe something. It can be as simple as the next number in a sequence — one, three, five, seven — or it can be a more complex set of equations that predict the future based on known conditions in the present. In our case, what are the equations for how ice cracks? Well, engineers already have a very good understanding of how aluminum, steel and plastics fracture under stress. It's an important problem in our society. And it turns out that the engineering equations for how materials fracture are not that different from my physics homework. So I borrowed them, adapted them for ice, and then I had a numeric model for how a crevasse can fracture when filled with water from the aquifer. This is the power of math. It can help us understand real processes in our world. I'll show you now the results of my numeric model, but first I should point out that the crevasse is about a thousand times narrower than it is deep, so in the main panel here, we've zoomed in to better see the details. You can look to the smaller panel on the right to see the true scale for how tall and skinny the crevasse is. As the aquifer water flows into the crevasse, some of it refreezes in the negative 15 degree Celsius ice. That's about as cold as your kitchen freezer. But this loss can be overcome if the flow rate in from the glacier aquifer is high enough. In our case, it is, and the aquifer water drives the crevasse all the way to the base of the ice sheet a thousand meters below. From there, it has a clear path to reach the ocean. So the aquifer water is a part of the three millimeters per year of sea level rise that we experience as a global society. But there's more: the aquifer water might be punching above its weight. The ice flows in complex ways. In some places, the ice flows very fast. There tends to be water at the base of the ice sheet here. In other places, not so fast. Usually, there's not water present at the base there. Now that we know the aquifer water is getting to the base of the ice sheet, the next question is: Is it making the ice itself flow faster into the ocean? We're trying to uncover these mysteries hidden inside the Greenland ice sheet so that we can better plan for the sea level rise it holds. The amount of ice that Greenland has lost since 2002 is just a small fraction of what that ice sheet holds. Ice sheets are immense, powerful machines that operate on long timescales. In the next 80 years, global sea levels will rise at least 20 centimeters, perhaps as much as one meter, and maybe more. Our understanding of future sea level rise is good, but our projections have a wide range. It's our role as glaciologists and scientists to narrow these uncertainties. How much sea level rise is coming, and how fast will it get here? We need to know how much and how fast, so the world and its communities can plan for the sea level rise that's coming. Thank you. (Applause) |
We can hack our immune cells to fight cancer | {0: 'TED Fellow Dr. Elizabeth Wayne is a biomedical engineer and advocate for women in higher education.'} | TED2017 | After decades of research and billions of dollars spent in clinical trials, we still have a problem with cancer drug delivery. We still give patients chemotherapy, which is so non-specific that even though it kills the cancer cells, it kind of kills the rest of your body, too. And yes, we have developed more selective drugs, but it's still a challenge to get them into the tumor, and they end up accumulating in the other organs as well or passing through your urine, which is a total waste. And fields like mine have emerged where we try to encapsulate these drugs to protect them as they travel through the body. But these modifications cause problems that we make more modifications to fix. So what I'm really trying to say is we need a better drug delivery system. And I propose, rather than using solely human design, why not use nature's? Immune cells are these versatile vehicles that travel throughout our body, patrolling for signs of disease and arriving at a wound mere minutes after injury. So I ask you guys: If immune cells are already traveling to places of injury or disease in our bodies, why not add an extra passenger? Why not use immune cells to deliver drugs to cure some of our biggest problems in disease? I am a biomedical engineer, and I want to tell you guys a story about how I use immune cells to target one of the largest problems in cancer. Did you know that over 90 percent of cancer deaths can be attributed to its spread? So if we can stop these cancer cells from going from the primary tumor to a distant site, we can stop cancer right in its tracks and give people more of their lives back. To do this special mission, we decided to deliver a nanoparticle made of lipids, which are the same materials that compose your cell membrane. And we've added two special molecules. One is called e-selectin, which acts as a glue that binds the nanoparticle to the immune cell. And the second one is called trail. Trail is a therapeutic drug that kills cancer cells but not normal cells. Now, when you put both of these together, you have a mean killing machine on wheels. To test this, we ran an experiment in a mouse. So what we did was we injected the nanoparticles, and they bound almost immediately to the immune cells in the bloodstream. And then we injected the cancer cells to mimic a process through which cancer cells spread throughout our bodies. And we found something very exciting. We found that in our treated group, over 75 percent of the cancer cells we initially injected were dead or dying, in comparison to only around 25 percent. So just imagine: these fewer amount of cells were available to actually be able to spread to a different part of the body. And this is only after two hours of treatment. Our results were amazing, and we had some pretty interesting press. My favorite title was actually, "Sticky balls may stop the spread of cancer." (Laughter) I can't tell you just how smug my male colleagues were, knowing that their sticky balls might one day cure cancer. (Laughter) But I can tell you they made some pretty, pretty, exciting, pretty ballsy t-shirts. This was also my first experience talking to patients where they asked how soon our therapy would be available. And I keep these stories with me to remind me of the importance of the science, the scientists and the patients. Now, our fast-acting results were pretty interesting, but we still had one lingering question: Can our sticky balls, our particles actually attached to the immune cells, actually stop the spread of cancer? So we went to our animal model, and we found three important parts. Our primary tumors were smaller in our treated animals, there were fewer cells in circulation, and there was little to no tumor burden in the distant organs. Now, this wasn't just a victory for us and our sticky balls. This was also a victory to me in drug delivery, and it represents a paradigm shift, a revolution — to go from just using drugs, just injecting them and hoping they go to the right places in the body, to using immune cells as special delivery drivers in your body. For this example, we used two molecules, e-selectin and trail, but really, the possibility of drugs you can use are endless. And I talked about cancer, but where disease goes, so do immune cells. So this could be used for any disease. Imagine using immune cells to deliver crucial wound-healing agents after a spinal cord injury, or using immune cells to deliver drugs past the blood-brain barrier to treat Parkinson's or Alzheimer's disease. These are the ideas that excite me about science the most. And from where I stand, I see so much promise and opportunity. Thank you. (Applause) |
The new age of corporate monopolies | {0: 'Margrethe Vestager is in charge of regulating commercial activity across the European Union and enforcing the EU’s rules designed to keep the markets fair.'} | TEDGlobal>NYC | Let's go back to 1957. Representatives from six European countries had come to Rome to sign the treaty that was to create the European Union. Europe was destroyed. A world war had emerged from Europe. The human suffering was unbelievable and unprecedented. Those men wanted to create a peaceful, democratic Europe, a Europe that works for its people. And one of the many building blocks in that peace project was a common European market. Already back then, they saw how markets, when left to themselves, can sort of slip into being just the private property of big businesses and cartels, meeting the needs of some businesses and not the needs of customers. So from our very first day, in 1957, the European Union had rules to defend fair competition. And that means competition on the merits, that you compete on the quality of your products, the prices you can offer, the services, the innovation that you produce. That's competition on the merits. You have a fair chance of making it on such a market. And it's my job, as Commissioner for Competition, to make sure that companies who do business in Europe live by those rules. But let's take a step back. Why do we need rules on competition at all? Why not just let businesses compete? Isn't that also the best for us if they compete freely, since more competition drives more quality, lower prices, more innovation? Well, mostly it is. But the problem is that sometimes, for businesses, competition can be inconvenient, because competition means that the race is never over, the game is never won. No matter how well you were doing in the past, there's always someone who are out there wanting to take your place. So the temptation to avoid competition is powerful. It's rooted in motives as old as Adam and Eve: in greed for yet more money, in fear of losing your position in the market and all the benefits it brings. And when greed and fear are linked to power, you have a dangerous mix. We see that in political life. In part of the world, the mix of greed and fear means that those who get power become reluctant to give it back. One of the many things I like and admire in our democracies are the norms that make our leaders hand over power when voters tell them to. And competition rules can do a similar thing in the market, making sure that greed and fear doesn't overcome fairness. Because those rules mean that companies cannot misuse their power to undermine competition. Think for a moment about your car. It has thousands of parts, from the foam that makes the seats to the electrical wiring to the light bulbs. And for many of those parts, the world's carmakers, they are dependent on only a few suppliers. So it's hardly surprising that it is kind of tempting for those suppliers to come together and fix prices. But just imagine what that could do to the final price of your new car in the market. Except, it's not imaginary. The European Commission has dealt with already seven different car parts cartels, and we're still investigating some. Here, the Department of Justice are also looking into the market for car parts, and it has called it the biggest criminal investigation it has ever pursued. But without competition rules, there would be no investigation, and there would be nothing to stop this collusion from happening and the prices of your car to go up. Yet it's not only companies who can undermine fair competition. Governments can do it, too. And governments do that when they hand out subsidies to just the favorite few, the selected. They may do that when they hand out subsidies — and, of course, all financed by taxpayers — to companies. That may be in the form of special tax treatments, like the tax benefits that firms like Fiat, Starbucks and Apple got from some governments in Europe. Those subsidies stop companies from competing on equal terms. They can mean that the companies that succeed, well, they are the companies that got the most subsidy, the ones that are the best-connected, and not, as it should be, the companies that serve consumers the best. So there are times when we need to step in to make sure that competition works the way it should. By doing that, we help the market to work fairly, because competition gives consumers the power to demand a fair deal. It means that companies know that if they cannot offer good prices or the service that's expected, well, the customers will go somewhere else. And that sort of fairness is more important than we may sometimes realize. Very few people think about politics all the time. Some even skip it at election time. But we are all in the market. Every day, we are in the market. And we don't want businesses to agree on prices in the back office. We don't want them to divide the market between them. We don't want one big company just to shut out competitors from ever showing us what they can do. If that happens, well, obviously, we feel that someone has cheated us, that we are being ignored or taken for granted by the market. And that may undermine not only our trust in the market but also our trust in the society. In a recent survey, more than two-thirds of Europeans said that they had felt the effects of lack of competition: that the price for electricity was too high, that the price for the medicines they needed was too high, that they had no real choice if they wanted to travel by bus or by plane, or they got poor service from their internet provider. In short, they found that the market didn't treat them fairly. And that might seem like very small things, but they can give you this sense that the world isn't really fair. And they see the market, which was supposed to serve everyone, become more like the private property of a few powerful companies. The market is not the society. Our societies are, of course, much, much more than the market. But lack of trust in the market can rub off on society so we lose trust in our society as well. And it may be the most important thing we have, trust. We can trust each other if we are treated as equals. If we are all to have the same chances, well, we all have to follow the same fundamental rules. Of course, some people and some businesses are more successful than others, but we do not trust in a society if the prizes are handed out even before the contest begins. And this is where competition rules come in, because when we make sure that markets work fairly, then businesses compete on the merits, and that helps to build the trust that we need as citizens to feel comfortable and in control, and the trust that allows our society to work. Because without trust, everything becomes harder. Just to live our daily lives, we need to trust in strangers, to trust the banks who keep our money, the builders who build our home, the electrician who comes to fix the wiring, the doctor who treats us when we're ill, not to mention the other drivers on the road, and everyone knows that they are crazy. And yet, we have to trust them to do the right thing. And the thing is that the more our societies grow, the more important trust becomes and the harder it is to build. And that is a paradox of modern societies. And this is especially true when technology changes the way that we interact. Of course, to some degree, technology can help us to build trust in one another with ratings systems and other systems that enable the sharing economy. But technology also creates completely new challenges when they ask us not to trust in other people but to trust in algorithms and computers. Of course, we all see and share and appreciate all the good that new technology can do us. It's a lot of good. Autonomous cars can give people with disabilities new independence. It can save us all time, and it can make a much, much better use of resources. Algorithms that rely on crunching enormous amounts of data can enable our doctors to give us a much better treatment, and many other things. But no one is going to hand over their medical data or step into a car that's driven by an algorithm unless they trust the companies that they are dealing with. And that trust isn't always there. Today, for example, less than a quarter of Europeans trust online businesses to protect their personal information. But what if people knew that they could rely on technology companies to treat them fairly? What if they knew that those companies respond to competition by trying to do better, by trying to serve consumers better, not by using their power to shut out competitors, say, by pushing their services far, far down the list of search results and promoting themselves? What if they knew that compliance with the rules was built into the algorithms by design, that the algorithm had to go to competition rules school before they were ever allowed to work, that those algorithms were designed in a way that meant that they couldn't collude, that they couldn't form their own little cartel in the black box they're working in? Together with regulation, competition rules can do that. They can help us to make sure that new technology treats people fairly and that everyone can compete on a level playing field. And that can help us build the trust that we need for real innovation to flourish and for societies to develop for citizens. Because trust cannot be imposed. It has to be earned. Since the very first days of the European Union, 60 years ago, our competition rules have helped to build that trust. A lot of things have changed. It's hard to say what those six representatives would have made of a smartphone. But in today's world, as well as in their world, competition makes the market work for everyone. And that is why I am convinced that real and fair competition has a vital role to play in building the trust we need to get the best of our societies, and that starts with enforcing our rules, actually just to make the market work for everyone. Thank you. (Applause) Bruno Giussani: Thank you. Thank you, Commissioner. Margrethe Vestager: It was a pleasure. BG: I want to ask you two questions. The first one is about data, because I have the impression that technology and data are changing the way competition takes place and the way competition regulation is designed and enforced. Can you maybe comment on that? MV: Well, yes, it is definitely challenging us, because we both have to sharpen our tools but also to develop new tools. When we were going through the Google responses to our statement of objection, we were going through 5.2 terabytes of data. It's quite a lot. So we had to set up new systems. We had to figure out how to do this, because you cannot work the way you did just a few years ago. So we are definitely sharpening up our working methods. The other thing is that we try to distinguish between different kinds of data, because some data is extremely valuable and they will form, like, a barrier to entry in a market. Other things you can just — it loses its value tomorrow. So we try to make sure that we never, ever underestimate the fact that data works as a currency in the market and as an asset that can be a real barrier for competition. BG: Google. You fined them 2.8 billion euros a few months ago. MV: No, that was dollars. It's not so strong these days. BG: Ah, well, depends on the — (Laughter) Google appealed the case. The case is going to court. It will last a while. Earlier, last year, you asked Apple to pay 13 billion in back taxes, and you have also investigated other companies, including European and Russian companies, not only American companies, by far. Yet the investigations against the American companies are the ones that have attracted the most attention and they have also attracted some accusations. You have been accused, essentially, of protectionism, of jealousy, or using legislation to hit back at American companies that have conquered European markets. "The Economist" just this week on the front page writes, "Vestager Versus The Valley." How do you react to that? MV: Well, first of all, I take it very seriously, because bias has no room in law enforcement. We have to prove our cases with the evidence and the facts and the jurisprudence in order also to present it to the courts. The second thing is that Europe is open for business, but not for tax evasion. (Applause) The thing is that we are changing, and for instance, when I ask my daughters — they use Google as well — "Why do you do that?" They say, "Well, because it works. It's a very good product." They would never, ever, come up with the answer, "It's because it's a US product." It's just because it works. And that is of course how it should be. But just the same, it is important that someone is looking after to say, "Well, we congratulate you while you grow and grow and grow, but congratulation stops if we find that you're misusing your position to harm competitors so that they cannot serve consumers." BG: It will be a fascinating case to follow. Thank you for coming to TED. MV: It was a pleasure. Thanks a lot. (Applause) |
Portraits that transform people into whatever they want to be | {0: 'TED Fellow Uldus Bakhtiozina creates photo stories and video installations that challenge stereotypes and create diversity, involving all types of people from fashion models to ordinary people. She presents the world with humor and thoughtfulness.'} | TED2017 | I'm often asked why I do art, what do I want to say with my art photography, and what is the use of it? Once in a while I start to worry how to actually measure the impact from the art like we do with medicine or technology, where we can see the results and calculate it. Then I would finally be able to explain to my mother my art with real numbers. But my art is so far from metrics, and moreover, my photography is widely exposing the theme of escapism. My theory is that all of us struggle sometimes to escape in order to analyze our reality, appreciate it or change. I don't work with daily life as it is, and I'm not a documentary photographer in the common sense. But I am a documentary photographer in a different sense. I document dreams. I work with daily life as it could be, as I imagine it. I am a daydreamer, but at the same time I love things that are authentic and deal with our innermost nature, which I would never want to escape from. I adore complicated personalities, and real life inspires me to create my images. Real life inspires our escape, and sometimes that escape is very needed. I believe heroes are not created easily, and I choose to work with individuals who are survivors and facing everyday routines that are not always full of color, people who are on their way to a better life, fighting against life circumstances. Why do I choose people like that for my models? Because I've been in that position myself, when I had to learn how to survive in real life. I was a student living abroad in London. I was working at two places at the same time as a waitress. Obviously that wasn't my dream job, but I decided to play a game where I imagined that I am taking a role in a film, and in the film I am a waitress, and I need to act great. I used to dye my hair and brows to gingerette, I changed my hair to curly perm, I lost weight and made myself believe I am just a character acting in a film. That isn't forever, that is all just temporary. That helped me a lot. It motivated me to change my life and take a hard time as a game. Now, as an artist, I am creating different lives for my models in order to give them the experience of being someone else in reality. Through the photographic process, all of my models become like silent movie actors. They are captured at the moment when they believe in being someone else entirely. In order to create a new reality in its entirety, I physically create every single thing in my work, sometimes from outfits to the stage. Because I work with analogues, and I don't make any digital manipulations to my photographs, I need everything to take place in reality, in spite of the fact that nowadays, digitally, you can create pretty much everything. I don't like this path. Even if that reaches perfection, I see the beauty in authenticity of making, and that's impossible without flaws. A digitally manipulated photograph is not true for me. It doesn't capture anything real. It's not experienced, not motivating. It's like, instead of going traveling, you look at someone else's travel photographs. What I find so exciting is the ability to make people's dreams of being someone else a reality. That's like a drug which pushes me to keep working, even without metrics. One of my models had always dreamed of being seen as a warrior, but she wasn't able to do sports because of her health problems. Half a year ago, she passed away from heart disease at the age of 22. But two days before her death, the images we spent months working on together of her as a warrior she dreamed of becoming were published at a large exhibition in Milan by Vogue Magazine. All her life was about overcoming. Before she died, she had known that thousands of people saw her image from the land of escapism and believed in her as a brave and fearless warrior. For my work, I invite people to play a game like we all used to as children when we pretend to be someone else and that process made us really happy. To my mind it is important for grown-ups. We need these transformations to enact this in the name of art. It gives us the very real feeling of being important and powerful in order to influence our reality. I know this from my own personal experience. I have had so many versions of myself through my self-portraits that I've been many different characters. Being someone else in the land of escapism doesn't exactly give us numbers that we can gauge, but it's like a real lost form of magic which exists but can't be measured. There is a unique power in art to transform and lift our limits. Art creates what I call a conjured life, which helps our existence and pushes, motivates and inspires us to dwell and express ourselves without metrics or calculations. Thank you. (Applause) |
A precise, three-word address for every place on earth | {0: 'Chris Sheldrick is providing a precise and simple way to talk about location, by dividing the world into a grid of three-meter by three-meter squares and assigning each one a unique three-word address.'} | TEDGlobal 2017 | According to the UN, billions of people still live without an address. The economist Hernando de Soto said, "Without an address, you live outside the law. You might as well not exist." I'm here to tell you how my team and I are trying to change that. If you go to an online map and look at a favela in Brazil or a township in South Africa, you'll see a few streets but a lot of empty space. But if you flip to satellite view, there are thousands of people, homes and businesses in this vast, unmapped and unaddressed spaces. In Ghana's capital, Accra, there are numbers and letters scrawled onto the sides of walls, where they piloted address systems but not finished them. But these places, these unaddressed places, hold huge economic potential. Here's why the issue of addressing stuck with me. I worked in the music business for 10 years, and what you may not know about the music world is that every day, people struggle with the problems of addressing. So from the musicians who have to find the gigs to the production companies who bring the equipment, everyone somehow always gets lost. We even had to add someone to our schedules who was the person you called when you thought you'd arrived but then realized you hadn't. And we had some pretty bad days, like in Italy, where a truck driver unloaded all the equipment an hour north of Rome, not an hour south of Rome, and a slightly worse day where a keyboard player called me and said, "Chris, don't panic, but we may have just sound-checked at the wrong people's wedding." (Laughter) So not long after the fated Rome event, I chatted this through with a friend of mine who is a mathematician, and we thought it was a problem we could do something about. We thought, well, we could make a new system, but it shouldn't look like the old system. We agreed that addresses were bad. We knew we wanted something very precise, but GPS coordinates, latitude and longitude, were just too complicated. So we divided the world into three-meter squares. The world divides into around 57 trillion three-meter squares, and we found that there are enough combinations of three dictionary words that we could name every three-meter square in the world uniquely with just three words. We used 40,000 words, so that's 40,000 cubed, 64 trillion combinations of three words, which is more than enough for the 57-trillion-odd three-meter squares, with a few spare. So that's exactly what we did. We divided the world into three-meter squares, gave each one a unique, three-word identifier — what we call a three-word address. So for example, right here, I'm standing at mustards.coupons.pinup, (Laughter) but over here ... I'm standing at pinched. singularly.tutorial. But we haven't just done this in English. We thought it was essential that people should be able to use this system in their own language. So far, we've built it into 14 languages, including French, Swahili and Arabic, and we're working on more now, like Xhosa, Zulu and Hindi. But this idea can do a lot more than just get my musicians to their gigs on time. If the 75 percent of countries that struggle with reliable addressing started using three-word addresses, there's a stack of far more important applications. In Durban, South Africa, an NGO called Gateway Health have distributed 11,000 three-word address signs to their community, so the pregnant mothers, when they go into labor, can call the emergency services and tell them exactly where to pick them up from, because otherwise, the ambulances have often taken hours to find them. In Mongolia, the National Post Service have adopted the system and are now doing deliveries to many people's houses for the first time. The UN are using it to geotag photos in disaster zones so they can deliver aid to exactly the right place. Even Domino's Pizza are using it in the Caribbean, because they haven't been able to find customers' homes, but they really want to get their pizza to them while its still hot. Shortly, you'll be able to get into a car, speak the three words, and the car will navigate you to that exact spot. In Africa, the continent has leapfrogged phone lines to go to mobile phones, bypassed traditional banks to go straight to mobile payments. We're really proud that the post services of three African countries — Nigeria, Djibouti and Côte d'Ivoire, have gone straight to adopting three-word addresses, which means that people in those countries have a really simple way to explain where they live, today. For me, poor addressing was an annoying frustration, but for billions of people, it's a huge business inefficiency, severely hampers their infrastructure growth, and can cost lives. We're on a mission to change that, three words at a time. Thank you. (Applause) |
The powerful stories that shaped Africa | {0: 'Gus Casely-Hayford writes, lectures, curates and broadcasts about African culture.\r\n\r\n'} | TEDGlobal 2017 | Now, Hegel — he very famously said that Africa was a place without history, without past, without narrative. Yet, I'd argue that no other continent has nurtured, has fought for, has celebrated its history more concertedly. The struggle to keep African narrative alive has been one of the most consistent and hard-fought endeavors of African peoples, and it continues to be so. The struggles endured and the sacrifices made to hold onto narrative in the face of enslavement, colonialism, racism, wars and so much else has been the underpinning narrative of our history. And our narrative has not just survived the assaults that history has thrown at it. We've left a body of material culture, artistic magistery and intellectual output. We've mapped and we've charted and we've captured our histories in ways that are the measure of anywhere else on earth. Long before the meaningful arrival of Europeans — indeed, whilst Europe was still mired in its Dark Age — Africans were pioneering techniques in recording, in nurturing history, forging revolutionary methods for keeping their story alive. And living history, dynamic heritage — it remains important to us. We see that manifest in so many ways. I'm reminded of how, just last year — you might remember it — the first members of the al Qaeda-affiliated Ansar Dine were indicted for war crimes and sent to the Hague. And one of the most notorious was Ahmad al-Faqi, who was a young Malian, and he was charged, not with genocide, not with ethnic cleansing, but with being one of the instigators of a campaign to destroy some of Mali's most important cultural heritage. This wasn't vandalism; these weren't thoughtless acts. One of the things that al-Faqi said when he was asked to identify himself in court was that he was a graduate, that he was a teacher. Over the course of 2012, they engaged in a systematic campaign to destroy Mali's cultural heritage. This was a deeply considered waging of war in the most powerful way that could be envisaged: in destroying narrative, in destroying stories. The attempted destruction of nine shrines, the central mosque and perhaps as many as 4,000 manuscripts was a considered act. They understood the power of narrative to hold communities together, and they conversely understood that in destroying stories, they hoped they would destroy a people. But just as Ansar Dine and their insurgency were driven by powerful narratives, so was the local population's defense of Timbuktu and its libraries. These were communities who've grown up with stories of the Mali Empire; lived in the shadow of Timbuktu's great libraries. They'd listened to songs of its origin from their childhood, and they weren't about to give up on that without a fight. Over difficult months of 2012, during the Ansar Dine invasion, Malians, ordinary people, risked their lives to secrete and smuggle documents to safety, doing what they could to protect historic buildings and defend their ancient libraries. And although they weren't always successful, many of the most important manuscripts were thankfully saved, and today each one of the shrines that was damaged during that uprising have been rebuilt, including the 14th-century mosque that is the symbolic heart of the city. It's been fully restored. But even in the bleakest periods of the occupation, enough of the population of Timbuktu simply would not bow to men like al-Faqi. They wouldn't allow their history to be wiped away, and anyone who has visited that part of the world, they will understand why, why stories, why narrative, why histories are of such importance. History matters. History really matters. And for peoples of African descent, who have seen their narrative systematically assaulted over centuries, this is critically important. This is part of a recurrent echo across our history of ordinary people making a stand for their story, for their history. Just as in the 19th century, enslaved peoples of African descent in the Caribbean fought under threat of punishment, fought to practice their religions, to celebrate Carnival, to keep their history alive. Ordinary people were prepared to make great sacrifices, some even the ultimate sacrifice, for their history. And it was through control of narrative that some of the most devastating colonial campaigns were crystallized. It was through the dominance of one narrative over another that the worst manifestations of colonialism became palpable. When, in 1874, the British attacked the Ashanti, they overran Kumasi and captured the Asantehene. They knew that controlling territory and subjugating the head of state — it wasn't enough. They recognized that the emotional authority of state lay in its narrative and the symbols that represented it, like the Golden Stool. They understood that control of story was absolutely critical to truly controlling a people. And the Ashanti understood, too, and they never were to relinquish the precious Golden Stool, never to completely capitulate to the British. Narrative matters. In 1871, Karl Mauch, a German geologist working in Southern Africa, he stumbled across an extraordinary complex, a complex of abandoned stone buildings. And he never quite recovered from what he saw: a granite, drystone city, stranded on an outcrop above an empty savannah: Great Zimbabwe. And Mauch had no idea who was responsible for what was obviously an astonishing feat of architecture, but he felt sure of one single thing: this narrative needed to be claimed. He later wrote that the wrought architecture of Great Zimbabwe was simply too sophisticated, too special to have been built by Africans. Mauch, like dozens of Europeans that followed in his footsteps, speculated on who might have built the city. And one went as far as to posit, "I do not think that I am far wrong if I suppose that that ruin on the hill is a copy of King Solomon's Temple." And as I'm sure you know, Mauch, he hadn't stumbled upon King Solomon's Temple, but upon a purely African complex of buildings constructed by a purely African civilization from the 11th century onward. But like Leo Frobenius, a fellow German anthropologist who speculated some years later, upon seeing the Nigerian Ife Heads for the very first time, that they must have been artifacts from the long-lost kingdom of Atlantis. He felt, just like Hegel, an almost instinctive need to rob Africa of its history. These ideas are so irrational, so deeply held, that even when faced with the physical archaeology, they couldn't think rationally. They could no longer see. And like so much of Africa's relationship with Enlightenment Europe, it involved appropriation, denigration and control of the continent. It involved an attempt to bend narrative to Europe's ends. And if Mauch had really wanted to find an answer to his question, "Where did Great Zimbabwe or that great stone building come from?" he would have needed to begin his quest a thousand miles away from Great Zimbabwe, at the eastern edge of the continent, where Africa meets the Indian Ocean. He would have needed to trace the gold and the goods from some of the great trading emporia of the Swahili coast to Great Zimbabwe, to gain a sense of the scale and influence of that mysterious culture, to get a picture of Great Zimbabwe as a political, cultural entity through the kingdoms and the civilizations that were drawn under its control. For centuries, traders have been drawn to that bit of the coast from as far away as India and China and the Middle East. And it might be tempting to interpret, because it's exquisitely beautiful, that building, it might be tempting to interpret it as just an exquisite, symbolic jewel, a vast ceremonial sculpture in stone. But the site must have been a complex at the center of a significant nexus of economies that defined this region for a millennium. This matters. These narratives matter. Even today, the fight to tell our story is not just against time. It's not just against organizations like Ansar Dine. It's also in establishing a truly African voice after centuries of imposed histories. We don't just have to recolonize our history, but we have to find ways to build back the intellectual underpinning that Hegel denied was there at all. We have to rediscover African philosophy, African perspectives, African history. The flowering of Great Zimbabwe — it wasn't a freak moment. It was part of a burgeoning change across the whole of the continent. Perhaps the great exemplification of that was Sundiata Keita, the founder of the Mali Empire, probably the greatest empire that West Africa has ever seen. Sundiata Keita was born about 1235, growing up in a time of profound flux. He was seeing the transition between the Berber dynasties to the north, he may have heard about the rise of the Ife to the south and perhaps even the dominance of the Solomaic Dynasty in Ethiopia to the east. And he must have been aware that he was living through a moment of quickening change, of growing confidence in our continent. He must have been aware of new states that were building their influence from as far afield as Great Zimbabwe and the Swahili sultanates, each engaged directly or indirectly beyond the continent itself, each driven also to invest in securing their intellectual and cultural legacy. He probably would have engaged in trade with these peer nations as part of a massive continental nexus of great medieval African economies. And like all of those great empires, Sundiata Keita invested in securing his legacy through history by using story — not just formalizing the idea of storytelling, but in building a whole convention of telling and retelling his story as a key to founding a narrative for his empire. And these stories, in musical form, are still sung today. Now, several decades after the death of Sundiata, a new king ascended the throne, Mansa Musa, its most famous emperor. Now, Mansa Musa is famed for his vast gold reserves and for sending envoys to the courts of Europe and the Middle East. He was every bit as ambitious as his predecessors, but saw a different kind of route of securing his place in history. In 1324, Mansa Musa went on pilgrimage to Mecca, and he traveled with a retinue of thousands. It's been said that 100 camels each carried 100 pounds of gold. It's been recorded that he built a fully functioning mosque every Friday of his trip, and performed so many acts of kindness, that the great Berber chronicler, Ibn Battuta, wrote, "He flooded Cairo with kindness, spending so much in the markets of North Africa and the Middle East that it affected the price of gold into the next decade." And on his return, Mansa Musa memorialized his journey by building a mosque at the heart of his empire. And the legacy of what he left behind, Timbuktu, it represents one of the great bodies of written historical material produced by African scholars: about 700,000 medieval documents, ranging from scholarly works to letters, which have been preserved often by private households. And at its peak, in the 15th and 16th centuries, the university there was as influential as any educational establishment in Europe, attracting about 25,000 students. This was in a city of around 100,000 people. It cemented Timbuktu as a world center of learning. But this was a very particular kind of learning that was focused and driven by Islam. And since I first visited Timbuktu, I've visited many other libraries across Africa, and despite Hegel's view that Africa has no history, not only is it a continent with an embarrassment of history, it has developed unrivaled systems for collecting and promoting it. There are thousands of small archives, textile drum stores, that have become more than repositories of manuscripts and material culture. They have become fonts of communal narrative, symbols of continuity, and I'm pretty sure that many of those European philosophers who questioned an African intellectual tradition must have, beneath their prejudices, been aware of the contribution of Africa's intellectuals to Western learning. They must have known of the great North African medieval philosophers who had driven the Mediterranean. They must have known about and been aware of that tradition that is part of Christianity, of the three wise men. And in the medieval period, Balthazar, that third wise man, was represented as an African king. And he became hugely popular as the third intellectual leg of Old World learning, alongside Europe and Asia, as a peer. These things were well-known. These communities did not grow up in isolation. Timbuktu's wealth and power developed because the city became a hub of lucrative intercontinental trade routes. This was one center in a borderless, transcontinental, ambitious, outwardly focused, confident continent. Berber merchants, they carried salt and textiles and new precious goods and learning down into West Africa from across the desert. But as you can see from this map that was produced a little time after the life of Mansa Musa, there was also a nexus of sub-Saharan trade routes, along which African ideas and traditions added to the intellectual worth of Timbuktu and indeed across the desert to Europe. Manuscripts and material culture, they have become fonts of communal narrative, symbols of continuity. And I'm pretty sure that those European intellectuals who cast aspersions on our history, they knew fundamentally about our traditions. And today, as strident forces like Ansar Dine and Boko Haram grow popular in West Africa, it's that spirit of truly indigenous, dynamic, intellectual defiance that holds ancient traditions in good stead. When Mansa Musa made Timbuktu his capital, he looked upon the city as a Medici looked upon Florence: as the center of an open, intellectual, entrepreneurial empire that thrived on great ideas wherever they came from. The city, the culture, the very intellectual DNA of this region remains so beautifully complex and diverse, that it will always remain, in part, located in storytelling traditions that derive from indigenous, pre-Islamic traditions. The highly successful form of Islam that developed in Mali became popular because it accepted those freedoms and that inherent cultural diversity. And the celebration of that complexity, that love of rigorously contested discourse, that appreciation of narrative, was and remains, in spite of everything, the very heart of West Africa. And today, as the shrines and the mosque vandalized by Ansar Dine have been rebuilt, many of the instigators of their destruction have been jailed. And we are left with powerful lessons, reminded once again of how our history and narrative have held communities together for millennia, how they remain vital in making sense of modern Africa. And we're also reminded of how the roots of this confident, intellectual, entrepreneurial, outward-facing, culturally porous, tariff-free Africa was once the envy of the world. But those roots, they remain. Thank you very much. (Applause) |
A pro wrestler's guide to confidence | {0: "UPS's Mike Kinney plays a crucial role in helping customers reach their full potential."} | TED@UPS | Picture it: a big, sweaty, tattooed man in a cowboy hat and chaps, is in the ring as the arena full of fans cheer him on. Their hero: "Cowboy" Gator Magraw. Gator bounces off the ropes and is quickly body-slammed to the mat. His wild opponent leaps into the air, crashing down onto Gator's rib cage. Gator struggles to breathe, wondering: "Is this really what my father wanted for me?" (Laughter) That wild man in the chaps ... was me. (Laughter) (Applause) (Cheers) And the answer to the question, surprisingly, is yes. (Laughter) I grew up watching professional wrestling with my dad. And like him, I loved everything about it: the showmanship, the athletic skill, the drama. I'd be this little boy, bouncing all over our living room, pretending to be my favorite wrestlers from TV. My dad actually reminded me a little bit of Hulk Hogan, but I was Hulk Hogan and he was Andre the Giant. I'd get all serious on him and say things like, "Dad ... someday I am going to be world heavyweight champion." And he would usually smile and very calmly say, "OK, then I guess I can count on you to be my retirement fund." (Laughter) When I was 16, a small wrestling show came to my little town in Minnesota. I couldn't believe it. Nothing like that had ever come to my town before. So I got to the arena early in the morning the day of the show, waiting out in the parking lot to see if I could spot some wrestlers pulling up in their cars. It wasn't as creepy as it sounds. But I could definitely tell who the wrestlers were, just the way they walked. They were tall and confident and intimidating, with their tank tops and Zubaz and fanny packs. Why wouldn't I want to be them? (Laughter) All I could think about was who are these people, and what are they like? How did they become wrestlers? So before the show started, I walked into this tiny arena — more like a gymnasium — and I asked them if I could help set up the wrestling ring. "Sure, kid. No problem." And then I pleaded with them to show me some wrestling moves. "Sure, kid. No problem." Man, they would just punch and kick me — hard! But I never complained. They would come to my town for one night every couple of months that year, and then — poof! — next day, they were gone. By the next year, they finally told me about an actual wrestling training camp that one of the wrestlers was running, and I begged my parents to sign me up. Next thing I knew, I was a high school senior by day and wrestling in front of live audiences by night. I had this giant poster of an alligator hanging on my bedroom wall. So when I needed to come up with a wrestling name at the last minute and Jesse "The Body" Ventura was already taken — (Laughter) I went with "Gator." I also wrestled in a t-shirt and camouflage pants because that's what I had in my closet. I hadn't quite figured out how to develop my own persona yet, but I was learning. It was sort of like an apprenticeship. But I was a wrestler. And my dad would come to all my matches wearing a t-shirt that said, "Papa Gator" across the front. (Laughter) And he'd brag to his friends about how his son was going to pay for his retirement someday. (Laughter) And I would've. Not long after I started wrestling, my dad unexpectedly passed away. And as you can imagine, especially as a teenage boy, it destroyed me. If you've ever lost someone, you know what a difficult time that can be. Your mind — it's not working right. The whole thing is just so surreal. I wanted to feel normal again, even if it was for just a second, so I went back to wrestling almost immediately. Wrestling belonged to me and my dad, you know? So there I was, sitting in the locker room, getting ready for a match within days of my dad passing away. He was gone. And sitting there alone — it felt like I was hiding. But it also felt like I needed to be there. One of the wrestlers who'd been on the scene a long time knew what I was going through, and he came over to see how I was holding up. I couldn't get the words out. I just said, "I don't know what I'm doing." And then we just sat there in silence — just ... silence. Before he got up to get ready for his own match, he gave me this piece of advice that would change the entire direction of my life. He told me the best wrestlers are just themselves, but "turned up." He said successful wrestlers find the traits within themselves they're the strongest at and make those the focus of who they become in the ring. So there I sat — a scared teenager who didn't know who he was or why he was even wrestling anymore. I looked around the locker room at some of the other wrestlers, and I thought, "I look so different. How can I ever be like them?" And then it hit me. That's the moment I realized I didn't have to be like them. What I did have to do was find out: What did it mean to be me? What made me unique, and how could I use it to my advantage? I knew I wasn't a chiseled athlete like some of these guys, but I really didn't care. So the first thing I thought was, "How can I amplify something as simple as: comfortable with my own body?" I didn't know. And then I thought: Speedo. (Laughter) (Applause) Or "trunks," as we call them in wrestling. Yeah, trunks. I could be this big guy who was comfortable wearing these little trunks in front of a bunch of strangers. So I ditched the t-shirt and camouflage pants, and Gator's new wardrobe was born. (Laughter) I was also pretty good at drawing cartoons, so I wondered if I could turn that up. I could design my own wrestling costumes, so each pair of trunks would have its own unique design and color, all of them completely different — and extremely comfortable, by the way. (Laughter) And I was also the funny kid in school, believe it or not. So I thought maybe I could turn that up. Maybe I could go from the boy who made his buddies laugh to the man who could rally hundreds or thousands. So I committed to the idea that my character wasn't going to be as scary as some of the others. I'd be hilarious from the moment I walked into the arena. With every wrestling match, I dug deeper. I found out that I could laugh at myself. So this guy would dance and sing his entrance music all the way to the ring. That was dancing, by the way. (Laughter) I found out that I was an OK wrestler, but I was an even better entertainer. And turning myself up made me unforgettable to the fans. I was trying to find those things about me — the simple things that were special, and then ask, "How can I turn them up?" Now, I knew I wanted my character to be a man's man like my dad was. I thought, "What's more of a man's man than a cowboy?" And that's when Gator became "Cowboy" ... Gator ... Yeah, I needed a last name. I thought about it until my head hurt. I couldn't come up with anything. I'm sitting there watching TV one night, flipping through the channels, and this commercial comes on about a country singer who had just won an Entertainer of the Year award. Tim McGraw. He's a cool cowboy with a great last name. And I liked his music. It was just all part of my process. But I just kept turning myself up until I became Cowboy Gator Magraw! (Laughter) (Applause) And I knew that if I kept turning myself up and pushing myself harder, the opportunities would come. And then it finally happened. In the middle of the night, I got a phone call. It was the call I wish my dad was around to hear. The WWE, the biggest wrestling organization in the world, wanted me to come and be a part of Monday Night Raw. Yes — all of my hard work and miles on the road were finally paying off. I got to walk down the WWE Raw entrance ramp on live television — (Laughter) dressed up as a fake security guard — (Laughter) to escort another wrestler to the ring. (Laughter) Sure, I was disappointed I didn't get to wrestle, but very few wrestlers get any kind of call from the WWE. Maybe one in a few hundred. And becoming Cowboy Gator Magraw is what got me there. So instead of walking away that day, I decided to turn myself up again and become the best security guard I could. In fact, I did it so well, I was the only guard to get a close-up on TV that night. That's a big deal, you know? (Laughter) And I got to sit backstage that entire day with some of the most famous pro wrestlers in the world, some of which were heroes of mine as a kid. And I got to listen to them and learn from them, and for that day, I was accepted as one of them. Maybe my experience with the WWE wasn't ideal. I mean, I didn't get to wrestle. But it made me work harder, turning myself up louder year after year. I was becoming the biggest version of myself in the ring, and other people took notice. Before I knew it, I'd gone from wrestling maybe once a month in Minnesota to as often as four times a week all over the United States on the independent wrestling circuit. I was literally living my dream. While wrestling over the next few years, I suffered a pretty bad shoulder injury right around the same time my wife and I found out that we were expecting our first child. I know what you're thinking, but believe me when I say those two events are completely unrelated. (Laughter) But I needed shoulder surgery, and I wanted to be home with my family. It was my turn to be a dad. So on July 27, 2007, I wrestled my final match, and walked away from professional wrestling to pursue the next chapter of my life. And as time passed, the strangest thing started to happen. I found out that once someone has been turned up, it's pretty hard to turn them down. I left the ring but Gator stayed with me, and I use the turned-up version of myself every day. My beautiful wife has been with me through this entire journey. And by the way — she does not like pro wrestling. (Laughter) Like, at all. But she was always my biggest fan. She still is. She knows there's always going to be some part of Gator Magraw in here, and she wants our daughter and twin sons to discover themselves the way that I did, but probably with fewer body slams and steel chair shots to the head. I mean, do you know how many times she's had to remind me not to clothesline the referees at my kid's soccer games? (Laughter) I mean, it was just the one time, and my daughter was clearly fouled! (Laughter) As a parent now, I've begun to realize that my dad wanted something much more valuable than a retirement fund. Like most parents, he just wanted his kids to reach their fullest potential. I'm trying to teach my children that turning yourself up is just not some perfect idea of how to be great, it's a way of living — constantly looking for what makes you different and how you can amplify it for the world to see. And by the way, my kids don't like wrestling, either. (Laughter) But that's OK with me, because they each have their own unique talents that can be turned up just like the rest of us. My one son — he's a whiz at electronics. So maybe helping him turn up makes him become the next Steve Jobs. My other son and my daughter — they're great at art, so maybe helping them turn up their gifts helps them become the next Pablo Picasso. You never know what you have the ability to do until you dig. And don't be afraid to put yourself out there. I mean, look around. They say that if you get nervous in front of an audience, just imagine them in their underwear. But then I think, "Hey, I've wrestled in less." (Laughter) (Applause) Look, the wrestling circus doesn't need to come to your town before you get an invitation to be the real you — the bigger, more stunning version of yourself. It doesn't even necessarily come from our parents. Turning yourself up means looking inward toward our true selves and harnessing the voice that says, "Maybe, just maybe, I am more than I thought I was." Thank you. (Applause) |
Why I risked my life to expose a government massacre | {0: 'TED Fellow Anjan Sundaram has spent the last decade writing about 21st century dictatorships, forgotten conflicts and discrimination around the world – from the Democratic Republic of Congo to Rwanda and India.'} | TED2017 | What does it mean to be a witness? Why is it important to bear witness to people's suffering, especially when those people are isolated from us? And what happens when we turn away? Three years ago, I traveled to the Central African Republic to report on its ongoing war. I'd heard warnings of massacres in the country's jungles and deserts, but no one could locate these massacres or tell me who was killed, or when. I drove into this war with little information. I witnessed scenes that were tragic and unreal, and only at the end did I realize that I had witnessed the slow preparation of ethnic cleansing. The Central African Republic is a country of about five million people the size of Texas in the center of Africa. The country has known chronic violence since French colonial rule ended in 1960. The war I reported on was between the minority Muslim government, called the Seleka, and citizen militias, mostly Christian, called the anti-balaka. The first sign of the impending cleansing was the breakdown of trust within communities. Three days after I arrived in the country, I watched the small city of Gaga be abandoned. A battle was about to break out. And to save themselves, many people were working as government spies, identifying friends and neighbors to be killed. Cities and towns, any place with humans, had become unsafe. So people moved to the jungle. I felt strangely isolated as pigs and livestock moved into the empty homes. In a war zone, you know that you are near the killing when people have left. The war moved across the jungle and reached Gaga, and I was surrounded by the thunder of bombs. Government forces drove into the jungle to attack a town sheltering a militia. I rode on motorcycle for hours, crossing jungle streams and tall elephant grass, but I only got to the town after the government had burned it and its people were gone. To see if I could speak to someone, I shouted out that I was a friend, that I would not hurt them. A woman in a red shirt ran out of the forest. Others cautiously emerged from the trees and asked, "Est-ce les gens savent?" "Do people know?" The question surprised me. Their children were hungry and sick, but they didn't ask for food or medicine. They asked me, "Do people know what is happening to us?" I felt helpless as I wrote down their question. And I became determined that this moment in their lives should not be forgotten. In bearing witness to their crisis, I felt a small communion with these people. From far away, this war had felt like a footnote in world news. As a witness, the war felt like history unfolding. The government denied that it was committing any violence, but I continually drove through towns where people described government massacres from a day or a week before. I felt overwhelmed and tried to calm myself. As I reported on these massacres, I bought and ate little sweets, seeking the familiar comfort of their taste. Central Africans ate these sweets to ease their hunger, leaving a trail of thousands of plastic wrappers as they fled. On the few radio stations still operating in the country, I mostly heard pop music. As the war mounted, we received less information about the massacres. It became easier to feel a sense of normalcy. I witnessed the effect of this missing information. Two weeks later, I slowly and anxiously drove into an isolated militia headquarters, a town called PK100. Here, Christian fighters told me that all Muslims were foreigners, evil and allied with the government. They likened Muslims to animals. Without neutral observers or media to counter this absurd narrative, it became the single narrative in these camps. The militias began to hunt down Muslims, and emptied the capital, Bangui, of nearly 140,000 Muslims in just a few months. Most of the killing and fleeing of Muslims went unrecorded by witnesses. I'm telling you about my reporting in the Central African Republic, but I still ask myself why I went there. Why put myself at risk? I do this work because I feel that ignored people in all our communities tell us something important about who we are. When information is missing, people have the power to manipulate reality. Without witnesses, we would believe that those thousands of massacred people are still alive, that those hundreds of burned homes are still standing. A war zone can pass for a mostly peaceful place when no one is watching. And a witness can become precious, and their gaze most necessary, when violence passes silently, unseen and unheard. Thank you. (Applause) |
What it's like to be a woman in Hollywood | {0: 'Naomi McDougall Jones is a vocal advocate and activist for bringing gender parity to film, both on and off screen.'} | TEDxBeaconStreet | I'm going to begin today with a story and end with a revolution. (Laughter) Are you ready? Audience: Yes! Naomi McDougall-Jones: Here's the story. All my life I wanted to be an actress. From the time I was very small, I could feel the magic of storytelling and I wanted to be a part of it. So, at the ripe age of 21, I graduated from the American Academy of Dramatic Arts in New York City, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and ready to take my rightful place as the next Meryl Streep. That's my grandmother, not Meryl Streep. (Laughter) Now, it's important for this story that you understand that I was raised by a raging feminist. I mean, just to give you some idea: when I was five or six years old and obsessed with "The Sound of Music," and running around, singing, "I am 16 going on 17," all day every day, my mother sat me down for a very serious conversation and she said, "OK, look. I'm not going to say that you can't sing that song, but if you are going to sing that song, I do need you to understand the extremely problematic gender construct that it reinforces." (Laughter) So that's where I come from. So it just honestly never even occurred to me that I would be prevented from doing anything in my life because I'm a woman. OK. So I graduate. And I start auditioning and I get work, slowly. But I just start noticing that the parts available for women are terrible. But, remember — I came here to play smart, willful, complicated, interesting complex, confident female characters, right? Like Meryl. And all of the sudden, I am wrestling with 300 other gorgeous, talented women to play ... "[Female] No dialogue. The character only needs to stand on a balcony, look forlorn, and walk back inside the house. Only partial nudity." (Laughter) "[Sarah] Brian's love interest. Attractive, cute, and flirty, she is the ideal girl and Brian's prize throughout the entire film." "[Mom] A proper Southern belle who is making peace with the fact that her only purpose in life is to tend to her husband." "[Abby] Must be OK with a tastefully shot gang rape, along with performing 19th-century dance." (Laughter) Those are actual casting notices. And so I just mentioned this to my agent one day, I say, "I feel like I'm not really going in for parts that I'm actually excited about playing. And he said, "Yeah. I don't really know what to do with you. You're too smart for the parts that are being written for women in their 20s, and you're not quite pretty enough to be the hot one, so I think you'll work when you're 35." (Laughter) And I said, "Oh. That's funny. I always thought that when you were 35, you were kind of, like, over the hill as an actress, that you were relegated to playing 20-year-olds' mothers." And he said, "Yeah — (Laughter) It's just the way it is." So, maybe a year or so after this, I'm having lunch with an actress friend of mine, and we're talking about how insane this is. And we decide, you know what? No problem. We'll just make our own movie. And I'll write and then I'll write it about two complex female characters. So we do. We set out to make this movie, and sort of accidentally, we end up hiring an all-female production team: the writer, directors, producers, and it's a film about two women. And so pretty soon, we're sitting in the office of a successful male producer, and he goes, "OK, girls. So, you do understand that at some point you are going to have to hire a male producer onboard, right? Just so that people will trust you with their money." Over and over again, people tell us, "Yeah, but people don't really want to see films about women, so maybe you should think about making something else. It's just the way it is." So we make the movie, anyway. We scrape together 80,000 dollars, and we make it, and it does so well. It gets into tons of festivals and we win a lot of awards and it's big and exciting. But these experiences I've had just keep rubbing at me. And so, I just start talking about them, first, at Q and A's after screenings of the film, and then I get invited to be on panels and talk at conferences. And the really amazing thing is that, to begin with, when I'm just talking to audiences and other people, you know, coming up in the film industry, the universal reaction is, "Oh my god! This is terrible. What do we do about this?" But the bigger panels I get on, suddenly an Oscar nominee tells me, "Look, I totally agree with everything you're saying. You just need to be really careful about where you say it." An Oscar-winning producer tells me that she doesn't think it's a good idea to play the woman card. It's just the way it is. And I think this is how sexism continues on in 2016, right? For the most part, it happens casually — unconsciously, even. It happens because people are just trying to get along within an existing system. It happens, maybe, out of a genuine desire to teach a young woman the way that the world "just is." The problem is that unless we do something about it, that is the way the world will always be. So why should you care about this? Right? I mean, we're facing some rather significant problems in the world just at present, what does it really matter if I can't get a job, or you're stuck watching "Transformer 17," right? (Laughter) Well, let me put it to you this way: the year "Jaws" came out, Americans suddenly started listing "sharks" among their top 10 major fears. In 1995, BMW paid the James Bond franchise three million dollars to have James Bond switch from driving an Aston Martin to a BMW Z3. That one move caused so many people to go out and buy that car, that BMW made 240 million dollars in pre-sales alone. The year that "Brave" and "Hunger Games" came out, female participation in archery went up 105 percent. (Laughter) In fact, studies show that the movies you watch don't just affect your hobbies, they affect your career choices, your emotions, your sense of identity, your relationships, your mental health — even your marital status. So now, consider this: if you have watched mostly American movies in your lifetime, 95 percent of all the films you have ever seen were directed by men. Somewhere between 80 and 90 percent of all of the leading characters that you have ever seen were men. And even if we just talk about the last five years, 55 percent of the time that you have seen a woman in a movie, she was naked or scantily clad. That affects you. That affects all of us. We actually can't even imagine how much it affects us, because this is all we've ever had. Stories — and movies are just modern stories — are not frivolous. They're actually the mechanism through which we process our experience of being alive. They're the way that we understand the world and our place in it. They're the way we develop empathy for people who have experiences different than our own. And right now, all of that is being funneled at us through the prism of this one perspective. It's not that it's a bad perspective, but don't we deserve to hear them all? How would the world be different if all of the stories were told? So what do we do about this? This may be the first time a lot of you are hearing about this, but a lot of us within the film industry have spent years — a lot of people, a lot longer than I have — giving speeches and doing panels and writing articles and doing studies, and really just yelling at Hollywood to do a better job about this. I mean, we have really yelled at them. And yet, Paramount and Fox recently released their slates, and of the 47 films that they will release between now and 2018, not a single one will be directed by a woman. So it is beginning to occur to me that waiting for Hollywood to grow a conscience may not actually be a winning strategy. In fact, it seems to me that whenever there is a small, ruling class of people who have all of the money and power and resources, they're not actually that excited about giving it up. And so you don't get change by asking them or even yelling at them. You have to make that change happen through a revolution. Now, please don't worry — I promise you, here, now, today, our body count will be very low. (Laughter) So, now before I get to my four-point plan for the revolution — yes, I have a four-point plan — I have two pieces of very good and important news for you. Good news number one: there are female filmmakers. (Cheers and applause) Yes! I know! (Applause) We exist! We actually graduate from film schools at the same rate that men do — 50 percent. So here we have our 50 women. The problem is that as soon as you get to the micro-budget film, so even the very smallest films, we're already only directing 18 percent. Then you get to slightly bigger films, indies in the $1-5 million budget range, and we go down to 12 percent. So by the time you get to the studio system, we're only directing five percent of movies. Now, I know some of you out there will look at this and secretly think to yourselves, "Well, maybe women just aren't as good at directing movies." And that's not a totally insane question. I mean, we like to believe the film industry is a meritocracy, right? (Laughs) (Laughter) But look at this trajectory. Either you have to accept that women are actually five percent as talented as men, which I don't, or you have to accept that there are serious systemic issues preventing us from getting from here to there. But the good news is, we exist, and there is a vast amount of untapped potential over here. Good news number two, and this is really good news: films by and about women make more money. Yes! Yes! It's true! (Cheers and applause) It's true. The Washington Post recently released a study showing that films that feature women make 23 cents more on every dollar than films that don't. Furthermore, my colleagues and I commissioned a study comparing 1,700 films made over the last five years and, looking at the average returns on investment — so, how much money does that movie make — comparing if a man or a woman filled each of the following roles: director, producer, screenwriter and lead actor. And in every single category, the return on investment is higher if it's a woman. Fact: women buy 51 percent of all movie tickets. Films by and about women make more money. And of course, at least some portion of the male population does also like women — (Laughter) so "women films" are not just for women. And yet, Hollywood only targets 18 percent of all of their films as "women films." So what you're left with is a giant underserved audience and untapped profit potential. So we exist, and we have stories to tell. We have so many stories to tell. And despite everything we've heard: you want to see them. The problem is, we've got this thing — let's call it "Hollywood" — (Laughter) no, no, I'm just kidding; I've met some very nice people in Hollywood — Hollywood, preventing us from getting to you. So here is my four-point plan for the revolution, and everybody — man or woman, in this room or anywhere in the world — is going to get to help. And this revolution is not just for women. Anyone who has been disenfranchised, anyone whose story has not been told, the same principles apply, and I really hope we can do the revolution together. My four-point plan. Number one: watch movies. Isn't this a good revolution? (Laughter) OK, first I want to talk to anyone who watches movies. Who watches movies in here? Great! Will you pledge to watch one film by a female filmmaker per month? That's it, just start there. Great! If you need help finding them, you can go to the website, moviesbyher.com It's an easily searchable database of films by women. And as you start watching all movies, I just want you to pay attention to the female characters. How many of them are there? What are they wearing? Or not? Do they get to do cool things, or are they just there to emotionally support the men? I'm telling you, once you see this, you're not going to be able to unsee it. And as you start noticing this, it's going to shift your viewing habits. And this already sizable market is going to continue to grow. Step two: make movies. So now I'm talking to all the female filmmakers out there: we need you to be very brave. It will be harder for you to make movies. In fact, there will be an entire industry constantly telling you that your stories don't matter. And we need you to make them, anyway. That 18 percent in the micro-budget range — that is on us to fix. Don't wait for permission. Don't wait for somebody to pick you, because 95 percent says they are not going to. Crowd fund. Write letters to eccentric relatives. I know how hard it is, but you have to make your movies — now, today, features, not shorts. There is an audience for them, and they want and need to see them. Three: invest in each other. Fellow female filmmakers, I feel like we need to stop wasting so much energy on a system that does not want us. We need to find our audience and invest in cultivating them. If we can figure out how to make our movies and deliver them to the audiences that want them, that's it. That's the whole game. And whatever they're doing in the middle is going to cease to be quite so important. Audiences, invest in us. Help us make the movies that you want to see. If you can give a female filmmaker 25 dollars in a crowdfunding campaign, great, do that. If you can invest more seriously and help us over that critical million-dollar hurdle, do that. But invest in seeing the other half of the story. Four: disrupt through business. So now I'm talking to all of the businesspeople and entrepreneurs. This does not happen very often in the world, but right here we have a golden situation in which you can enact significant social change while also making money. Hollywood is a system ripe for disruption. The old models of financing and distribution are crumbling — please come in and disrupt it. I'll give you an example. Right now, with some incredible women, I am launching the "The 51 Fund." It's a venture capital fund that will finance films written, directed and produced by women in that critical $1-5 million range. We will give a significant number of female filmmakers the chance to make their movies and we will deliver them to the audiences who want them. Good for equality, good for business. But that's only one example, we need more. There is room for so many more. So I say to you: Hollywood is leaving money on the table. Come pick it up. (Applause) Now, all of this may seem like a lot, but it is actually so doable. Entrenched systems don't change because you ask the people in charge, they change because all of the people who don't have what they want rise up and make that change happen. And don't you want to? I want to see what the other 51 percent of the population has to say. I want to watch movies that teach me about people who are different than I am. I want to see women's bodies on film that aren't perfect. I want to give our little boys the chance to empathize with female characters so that they can become more whole men. And I definitely want to give a little girl who may not have a real-life role model the chance to watch movies and see women doing everything she dreams of achieving. This is not about making one industry better. This is about making a better world. Will you help? The time for waiting is over. The time for the revolution is now. (Cheers and applause) |
How diversity makes teams more innovative | {0: "BCG's Rocío Lorenzo advises telecommunication and media companies on their strategy and how to transform their businesses in times of digital disruption."} | TED@BCG Milan | Fifteen years ago, I thought that the diversity stuff was not something I had to worry about. It was something an older generation had to fight for. In my university, we were 50-50, male-female, and we women often had better grades. So while not everything was perfect, diversity and leadership decisions was something that would happen naturally over time, right? Well, not quite. While moving up the ladder working as a management consultant across Europe and the US, I started to realize how often I was the only woman in the room and how homogenous leadership still is. Many leaders I met saw diversity as something to comply with out of political correctness, or, best case, the right thing to do, but not as a business priority. They just did not have a reason to believe that diversity would help them achieve their most immediate, pressing goals: hitting the numbers, delivering the new product, the real goals they are measured by. My personal experience working with diverse teams had been that while they require a little bit more effort at the beginning, they did bring fresher, more creative ideas. So I wanted to know: Are diverse organizations really more innovative, and can diversity be more than something to comply with? Can it be a real competitive advantage? So to find out, we set up a study with the Technical University of Munich. We surveyed 171 companies in Germany, Austria and Switzerland, and as we speak, we're expanding the study to 1,600 companies in five additional countries around the world. We asked those companies basically two things: how innovative they are and how diverse they are. To measure the first one, we asked them about innovation revenue. Innovation revenue is the share of revenues they've made from new products and services in the last three years, meaning we did not ask them how many creative ideas they have, but rather if these ideas translate into products and services that really make the company more successful today and tomorrow. To measure diversity, we looked at six different factors: country of origin, age and gender, amongst others. While preparing to go in the field with those questions, I sat down with my team and we discussed what we would expect as a result. To put it mildly, we were not optimistic. The most skeptical person on the team thought, or saw a real possibility, that we would find nothing at all. Most of the team was rather on the cautious side, so we landed all together at "only if," meaning that we might find some kind of link between innovation and diversity, but not across the board — rather only if certain criteria are met, for example leadership style, very open leadership style that allowed people to speak up freely and safely and contribute. A couple of months later, the data came in, and the results convinced the most skeptical amongst us. The answer was a clear yes, no ifs, no buts. The data in our sample showed that more diverse companies are simply more innovative, period. Now, a fair question to ask is the chicken or the egg question, meaning, are companies really more innovative because they have a more diverse leadership, or the other way around? Which way is it? Now, we do not know how much is correlation versus causation, but what we do know is that clearly, in our sample, companies that are more diverse are more innovative, and that companies that are more innovative have more diverse leadership, too. So it's fair to assume that it works both ways, diversity driving innovation and innovation driving diversity. Now, once we published the results, we were surprised about the reactions in the media. We got quite some attention. And it went from quite factual, like "Higher Female Share Boosts Innovation" to a little bit more sensationalist. (Laughter) As you can see, "Stay-at-home Women Cost Trillions," and, my personal favorite, "Housewives Kill Innovation." Well, there's no such thing as bad publicity, right? (Laughter) On the back of that coverage, we started to get calls from senior executives wanting to understand more, especially — surprise, surprise — about gender diversity. I tend to open up those discussions by asking, "Well, what do you think of the situation in your organization today?" And a frequent reaction to that is, "Well, we're not yet there, but we're not that bad." One executive told me, for example, "Oh, we're not that bad. We have one member in our board who is a woman." (Laughter) And you laugh — (Applause) Now, you laugh, but he had a point in being proud about it, because in Germany, if you have a company and it has one member on the board who is a woman, you are part of a select group of 30 out of the 100 largest publicly listed companies. The other 70 companies have an all-male board, and not even one of these hundred largest publicly listed companies have, as of today, a female CEO. But here's the critically important insight. Those few female board members alone, they won't make a difference. Our data shows that for gender diversity to have an impact on innovation, you need to have more than 20 percent women in leadership. Let's have a look at the numbers. As you can see, we divided the sample into three groups, and the results are quite dramatic. Only in the group where you have more than 20 percent women in leadership, only then you see a clear jump in innovation revenue to above-average levels. So experience and data shows that you do need critical mass to move the needle, and companies like Alibaba, JP Morgan or Apple have as of today already achieved that threshold. Another reaction I got quite a lot was, "Well, it will get solved over time." And I have all the sympathy in the world for that point of view, because I used to think like that, too. Now, let's have a look here again and look at the numbers, taking Germany as an example. Let me first give you the good news. So the share of women who are college graduates and have at least 10 years of professional experience has grown nicely over the last 20 years, which means the pool in which to fish for female leaders has increased over time, and that's great. Now, according to my old theory, the share of women in leadership would have grown more or less in parallel, right? Now, let's have a look at what happened in reality. It's not even close, which means I was so wrong and which means that my generation, your generation, the best-educated female generation in history, we have just not made it. We have failed to achieve leadership in significant numbers. Education just did not translate into leadership. Now, that was a painful realization for me and made me realize, if we want to change this, we need to engage, and we need to do better. Now, what to do? Achieving more than 20 percent women in leadership seems like a daunting task to many, understandably, given the track record. But it's doable, and there are many companies today that are making progress there and doing it successfully. Let's take SAP, the software company, as an example. They had, in 2011, 19 percent women in leadership, yet they decided to do better, and they did what you do in any other area of business where you want to improve. They set themselves a measurable target. So they set themselves a target of 25 percent for 2017, which they have just achieved. The goals made them think more creatively about developing leaders and tapping new recruiting pools. They now even set a target of 30 percent women in leadership for 2022. So experience shows it's doable, and at the end of the day, it all boils down to two decisions that are taken every day in every organization by many of us: who to hire and who to develop and promote. Now, nothing against women's programs, networks, mentoring, trainings. All is good. But it is these two decisions that at the end of the day send the most powerful change signal in any organization. Now, I never set out to be a diversity advocate. I am a business advisor. But now my goal is to change the face of leadership, to make it more diverse — and not so that leaders can check a box and feel like they have complied with something or they have been politically correct. But because they understand, they understand that diversity is making their organization more innovative, better. And by embracing diversity, by embracing diverse talent, we are providing true opportunity for everyone. Thank you. Thank you so much. (Applause) |
The awful logic of land mines -- and an app that helps people avoid them | {0: 'TED Resident Carlos Bautista wants to close the information and technology gap for people in developing countries.'} | TED Residency | When you walk around the place where you live, most of the times, you feel pretty safe and comfortable, right? Now imagine if there were land mines buried right here, scattered around, and you'd never know when you might step on one. That's how it is for many in my home country, Colombia. As a result of a 50-year internal armed conflict, we have an undetermined number of land mines buried throughout the countryside, affecting more than one third of the Colombian population. These anti-personnel mines are designed to maim, not to kill their targets. The logic behind this, which is awful, is that more resources are taken up caring for an injured soldier than dealing with a person who has been killed. I met Adriana Rodriguez about five years ago while I was working for the Colombian government as a documentary filmmaker. During the conflict, she was forced to leave her house ... with her kids in her arms. One day, one of her neighbors was killed while he stepped on a land mine. He was actually inside an abandoned house, not outside, a house exactly like the one Adriana was forced to leave. Ever since, she has been living with the fear that she, or her children, might step on a land mine. You know, the Colombian conflict has been running for so long that neither me nor my mom have seen our country in peace, and for someone like me, who has been living detached from all this suffering, there was only two options: either I get used to it, or I can try to change it with all my heart. And I have to admit that for almost 30 years, I was getting used to it, you know? But something changed for me when I met my wife. She is a political scientist completely passionate about the Colombian armed conflict. She helped me to understand how deeply our country has been affected by land mines and by war. We decided to come here to the United States in search of new skills that would enable us to contribute in a fair way to our society, and maybe even help heal it. While in grad school, I started developing an augmented reality, really broad application to help military personnel to deactivate land mines more safely. During that time, I also realized that Colombia is not the only country in the world that has to worry about land mines. In fact, more than 58 countries are still contaminated with any sort of explosive device. Only in 2015, due to an escalation of war in countries like Libya, Syria, Ukraine and Yemen, the number of [land mine casualties] almost doubled, from 3,695 to 6,461 people. Imagine that. While some countries are trying to get rid of land mines, some others are increasing their use. But what happens when a conflict that involved land mines comes to an end? There are two consequences. On the one hand, the internally displaced population will start returning to their lands, and on the other hand, hidden land mines are going to start exploding more often on the civilian side. That's the reason why I decided to join the Computer Science Department at NYU, along with Professor Claudio Silva to start to develop an app called MineSafe. MineSafe uses information from the community to suggest paths that have been declared as the most transited without accident or incident caused by a land mine. These traffic patterns can also be used to determine the top priority zones to be de-mined. Almost 15 million people are living now in the countryside of Colombia. Imagine, for a moment, if we can crowdsource information from all of them to help people like Adriana and her children to find safe and reliable paths. This information can not only be used for that. This information can also help them to become more productive. Farmers will be able to find which lands have been cleared from explosive devices, and in that way, they will be able to find new, fertile grounds to start growing food again. MineSafe has now a partnership with the Colombian government for the initial pilot, and we have now some connections with Cambodia and Somalia as well. This project is being funded by private money here in the United States, but we don't want to stop here. We want to go big, and we want to scale the project to every single place where land mines are still a threat. The Colombian armed conflict is finally coming to an end, but the consequences of years of war are still buried under our feet. We at MineSafe are working to help both people and land to find peace. Thank you. (Applause) |
How we'll earn money in a future without jobs | {0: 'Martin Ford imagines what the accelerating progress in robotics and artificial intelligence may mean for the economy, job market and society of the future.\r\n'} | TED2017 | I'm going to begin with a scary question: Are we headed toward a future without jobs? The remarkable progress that we're seeing in technologies like self-driving cars has led to an explosion of interest in this question, but because it's something that's been asked so many times in the past, maybe what we should really be asking is whether this time is really different. The fear that automation might displace workers and potentially lead to lots of unemployment goes back at a minimum 200 years to the Luddite revolts in England. And since then, this concern has come up again and again. I'm going to guess that most of you have probably never heard of the Triple Revolution report, but this was a very prominent report. It was put together by a brilliant group of people — it actually included two Nobel laureates — and this report was presented to the President of the United States, and it argued that the US was on the brink of economic and social upheaval because industrial automation was going to put millions of people out of work. Now, that report was delivered to President Lyndon Johnson in March of 1964. So that's now over 50 years, and, of course, that hasn't really happened. And that's been the story again and again. This alarm has been raised repeatedly, but it's always been a false alarm. And because it's been a false alarm, it's led to a very conventional way of thinking about this. And that says essentially that yes, technology may devastate entire industries. It may wipe out whole occupations and types of work. But at the same time, of course, progress is going to lead to entirely new things. So there will be new industries that will arise in the future, and those industries, of course, will have to hire people. There'll be new kinds of work that will appear, and those might be things that today we can't really even imagine. And that has been the story so far, and it's been a positive story. It turns out that the new jobs that have been created have generally been a lot better than the old ones. They have, for example, been more engaging. They've been in safer, more comfortable work environments, and, of course, they've paid more. So it has been a positive story. That's the way things have played out so far. But there is one particular class of worker for whom the story has been quite different. For these workers, technology has completely decimated their work, and it really hasn't created any new opportunities at all. And these workers, of course, are horses. (Laughter) So I can ask a very provocative question: Is it possible that at some point in the future, a significant fraction of the human workforce is going to be made redundant in the way that horses were? Now, you might have a very visceral, reflexive reaction to that. You might say, "That's absurd. How can you possibly compare human beings to horses?" Horses, of course, are very limited, and when cars and trucks and tractors came along, horses really had nowhere else to turn. People, on the other hand, are intelligent; we can learn, we can adapt. And in theory, that ought to mean that we can always find something new to do, and that we can always remain relevant to the future economy. But here's the really critical thing to understand. The machines that will threaten workers in the future are really nothing like those cars and trucks and tractors that displaced horses. The future is going to be full of thinking, learning, adapting machines. And what that really means is that technology is finally beginning to encroach on that fundamental human capability — the thing that makes us so different from horses, and the very thing that, so far, has allowed us to stay ahead of the march of progress and remain relevant, and, in fact, indispensable to the economy. So what is it that is really so different about today's information technology relative to what we've seen in the past? I would point to three fundamental things. The first thing is that we have seen this ongoing process of exponential acceleration. I know you all know about Moore's law, but in fact, it's more broad-based than that; it extends in many cases, for example, to software, it extends to communications, bandwidth and so forth. But the really key thing to understand is that this acceleration has now been going on for a really long time. In fact, it's been going on for decades. If you measure from the late 1950s, when the first integrated circuits were fabricated, we've seen something on the order of 30 doublings in computational power since then. That's just an extraordinary number of times to double any quantity, and what it really means is that we're now at a point where we're going to see just an extraordinary amount of absolute progress, and, of course, things are going to continue to also accelerate from this point. So as we look forward to the coming years and decades, I think that means that we're going to see things that we're really not prepared for. We're going to see things that astonish us. The second key thing is that the machines are, in a limited sense, beginning to think. And by this, I don't mean human-level AI, or science fiction artificial intelligence; I simply mean that machines and algorithms are making decisions. They're solving problems, and most importantly, they're learning. In fact, if there's one technology that is truly central to this and has really become the driving force behind this, it's machine learning, which is just becoming this incredibly powerful, disruptive, scalable technology. One of the best examples I've seen of that recently was what Google's DeepMind division was able to do with its AlphaGo system. Now, this is the system that was able to beat the best player in the world at the ancient game of Go. Now, at least to me, there are two things that really stand out about the game of Go. One is that as you're playing the game, the number of configurations that the board can be in is essentially infinite. There are actually more possibilities than there are atoms in the universe. So what that means is, you're never going to be able to build a computer to win at the game of Go the way chess was approached, for example, which is basically to throw brute-force computational power at it. So clearly, a much more sophisticated, thinking-like approach is needed. The second thing that really stands out is that, if you talk to one of the championship Go players, this person cannot necessarily even really articulate what exactly it is they're thinking about as they play the game. It's often something that's very intuitive, it's almost just like a feeling about which move they should make. So given those two qualities, I would say that playing Go at a world champion level really ought to be something that's safe from automation, and the fact that it isn't should really raise a cautionary flag for us. And the reason is that we tend to draw a very distinct line, and on one side of that line are all the jobs and tasks that we perceive as being on some level fundamentally routine and repetitive and predictable. And we know that these jobs might be in different industries, they might be in different occupations and at different skill levels, but because they are innately predictable, we know they're probably at some point going to be susceptible to machine learning, and therefore, to automation. And make no mistake — that's a lot of jobs. That's probably something on the order of roughly half the jobs in the economy. But then on the other side of that line, we have all the jobs that require some capability that we perceive as being uniquely human, and these are the jobs that we think are safe. Now, based on what I know about the game of Go, I would've guessed that it really ought to be on the safe side of that line. But the fact that it isn't, and that Google solved this problem, suggests that that line is going to be very dynamic. It's going to shift, and it's going to shift in a way that consumes more and more jobs and tasks that we currently perceive as being safe from automation. The other key thing to understand is that this is by no means just about low-wage jobs or blue-collar jobs, or jobs and tasks done by people that have relatively low levels of education. There's lots of evidence to show that these technologies are rapidly climbing the skills ladder. So we already see an impact on professional jobs — tasks done by people like accountants, financial analysts, journalists, lawyers, radiologists and so forth. So a lot of the assumptions that we make about the kind of occupations and tasks and jobs that are going to be threatened by automation in the future are very likely to be challenged going forward. So as we put these trends together, I think what it shows is that we could very well end up in a future with significant unemployment. Or at a minimum, we could face lots of underemployment or stagnant wages, maybe even declining wages. And, of course, soaring levels of inequality. All of that, of course, is going to put a terrific amount of stress on the fabric of society. But beyond that, there's also a fundamental economic problem, and that arises because jobs are currently the primary mechanism that distributes income, and therefore purchasing power, to all the consumers that buy the products and services we're producing. In order to have a vibrant market economy, you've got to have lots and lots of consumers that are really capable of buying the products and services that are being produced. If you don't have that, then you run the risk of economic stagnation, or maybe even a declining economic spiral, as there simply aren't enough customers out there to buy the products and services being produced. It's really important to realize that all of us as individuals rely on access to that market economy in order to be successful. You can visualize that by thinking in terms of one really exceptional person. Imagine for a moment you take, say, Steve Jobs, and you drop him on an island all by himself. On that island, he's going to be running around, gathering coconuts just like anyone else. He's really not going to be anything special, and the reason, of course, is that there is no market for him to scale his incredible talents across. So access to this market is really critical to us as individuals, and also to the entire system in terms of it being sustainable. So the question then becomes: What exactly could we do about this? And I think you can view this through a very utopian framework. You can imagine a future where we all have to work less, we have more time for leisure, more time to spend with our families, more time to do things that we find genuinely rewarding and so forth. And I think that's a terrific vision. That's something that we should absolutely strive to move toward. But at the same time, I think we have to be realistic, and we have to realize that we're very likely to face a significant income distribution problem. A lot of people are likely to be left behind. And I think that in order to solve that problem, we're ultimately going to have to find a way to decouple incomes from traditional work. And the best, more straightforward way I know to do that is some kind of a guaranteed income or universal basic income. Now, basic income is becoming a very important idea. It's getting a lot of traction and attention, there are a lot of important pilot projects and experiments going on throughout the world. My own view is that a basic income is not a panacea; it's not necessarily a plug-and-play solution, but rather, it's a place to start. It's an idea that we can build on and refine. For example, one thing that I have written quite a lot about is the possibility of incorporating explicit incentives into a basic income. To illustrate that, imagine that you are a struggling high school student. Imagine that you are at risk of dropping out of school. And yet, suppose you know that at some point in the future, no matter what, you're going to get the same basic income as everyone else. Now, to my mind, that creates a very perverse incentive for you to simply give up and drop out of school. So I would say, let's not structure things that way. Instead, let's pay people who graduate from high school somewhat more than those who simply drop out. And we can take that idea of building incentives into a basic income, and maybe extend it to other areas. For example, we might create an incentive to work in the community to help others, or perhaps to do positive things for the environment, and so forth. So by incorporating incentives into a basic income, we might actually improve it, and also, perhaps, take at least a couple of steps towards solving another problem that I think we're quite possibly going to face in the future, and that is, how do we all find meaning and fulfillment, and how do we occupy our time in a world where perhaps there's less demand for traditional work? So by extending and refining a basic income, I think we can make it look better, and we can also, perhaps, make it more politically and socially acceptable and feasible — and, of course, by doing that, we increase the odds that it will actually come to be. I think one of the most fundamental, almost instinctive objections that many of us have to the idea of a basic income, or really to any significant expansion of the safety net, is this fear that we're going to end up with too many people riding in the economic cart, and not enough people pulling that cart. And yet, really, the whole point I'm making here, of course, is that in the future, machines are increasingly going to be capable of pulling that cart for us. That should give us more options for the way we structure our society and our economy, And I think eventually, it's going to go beyond simply being an option, and it's going to become an imperative. The reason, of course, is that all of this is going to put such a degree of stress on our society, and also because jobs are that mechanism that gets purchasing power to consumers so they can then drive the economy. If, in fact, that mechanism begins to erode in the future, then we're going to need to replace it with something else or we're going to face the risk that our whole system simply may not be sustainable. But the bottom line here is that I really think that solving these problems, and especially finding a way to build a future economy that works for everyone, at every level of our society, is going to be one of the most important challenges that we all face in the coming years and decades. Thank you very much. (Applause) |
We're building a dystopia just to make people click on ads | {0: 'Techno-sociologist Zeynep Tufekci asks big questions about our societies and our lives, as both algorithms and digital connectivity spread.'} | TEDGlobal>NYC | So when people voice fears of artificial intelligence, very often, they invoke images of humanoid robots run amok. You know? Terminator? You know, that might be something to consider, but that's a distant threat. Or, we fret about digital surveillance with metaphors from the past. "1984," George Orwell's "1984," it's hitting the bestseller lists again. It's a great book, but it's not the correct dystopia for the 21st century. What we need to fear most is not what artificial intelligence will do to us on its own, but how the people in power will use artificial intelligence to control us and to manipulate us in novel, sometimes hidden, subtle and unexpected ways. Much of the technology that threatens our freedom and our dignity in the near-term future is being developed by companies in the business of capturing and selling our data and our attention to advertisers and others: Facebook, Google, Amazon, Alibaba, Tencent. Now, artificial intelligence has started bolstering their business as well. And it may seem like artificial intelligence is just the next thing after online ads. It's not. It's a jump in category. It's a whole different world, and it has great potential. It could accelerate our understanding of many areas of study and research. But to paraphrase a famous Hollywood philosopher, "With prodigious potential comes prodigious risk." Now let's look at a basic fact of our digital lives, online ads. Right? We kind of dismiss them. They seem crude, ineffective. We've all had the experience of being followed on the web by an ad based on something we searched or read. You know, you look up a pair of boots and for a week, those boots are following you around everywhere you go. Even after you succumb and buy them, they're still following you around. We're kind of inured to that kind of basic, cheap manipulation. We roll our eyes and we think, "You know what? These things don't work." Except, online, the digital technologies are not just ads. Now, to understand that, let's think of a physical world example. You know how, at the checkout counters at supermarkets, near the cashier, there's candy and gum at the eye level of kids? That's designed to make them whine at their parents just as the parents are about to sort of check out. Now, that's a persuasion architecture. It's not nice, but it kind of works. That's why you see it in every supermarket. Now, in the physical world, such persuasion architectures are kind of limited, because you can only put so many things by the cashier. Right? And the candy and gum, it's the same for everyone, even though it mostly works only for people who have whiny little humans beside them. In the physical world, we live with those limitations. In the digital world, though, persuasion architectures can be built at the scale of billions and they can target, infer, understand and be deployed at individuals one by one by figuring out your weaknesses, and they can be sent to everyone's phone private screen, so it's not visible to us. And that's different. And that's just one of the basic things that artificial intelligence can do. Now, let's take an example. Let's say you want to sell plane tickets to Vegas. Right? So in the old world, you could think of some demographics to target based on experience and what you can guess. You might try to advertise to, oh, men between the ages of 25 and 35, or people who have a high limit on their credit card, or retired couples. Right? That's what you would do in the past. With big data and machine learning, that's not how it works anymore. So to imagine that, think of all the data that Facebook has on you: every status update you ever typed, every Messenger conversation, every place you logged in from, all your photographs that you uploaded there. If you start typing something and change your mind and delete it, Facebook keeps those and analyzes them, too. Increasingly, it tries to match you with your offline data. It also purchases a lot of data from data brokers. It could be everything from your financial records to a good chunk of your browsing history. Right? In the US, such data is routinely collected, collated and sold. In Europe, they have tougher rules. So what happens then is, by churning through all that data, these machine-learning algorithms — that's why they're called learning algorithms — they learn to understand the characteristics of people who purchased tickets to Vegas before. When they learn this from existing data, they also learn how to apply this to new people. So if they're presented with a new person, they can classify whether that person is likely to buy a ticket to Vegas or not. Fine. You're thinking, an offer to buy tickets to Vegas. I can ignore that. But the problem isn't that. The problem is, we no longer really understand how these complex algorithms work. We don't understand how they're doing this categorization. It's giant matrices, thousands of rows and columns, maybe millions of rows and columns, and not the programmers and not anybody who looks at it, even if you have all the data, understands anymore how exactly it's operating any more than you'd know what I was thinking right now if you were shown a cross section of my brain. It's like we're not programming anymore, we're growing intelligence that we don't truly understand. And these things only work if there's an enormous amount of data, so they also encourage deep surveillance on all of us so that the machine learning algorithms can work. That's why Facebook wants to collect all the data it can about you. The algorithms work better. So let's push that Vegas example a bit. What if the system that we do not understand was picking up that it's easier to sell Vegas tickets to people who are bipolar and about to enter the manic phase. Such people tend to become overspenders, compulsive gamblers. They could do this, and you'd have no clue that's what they were picking up on. I gave this example to a bunch of computer scientists once and afterwards, one of them came up to me. He was troubled and he said, "That's why I couldn't publish it." I was like, "Couldn't publish what?" He had tried to see whether you can indeed figure out the onset of mania from social media posts before clinical symptoms, and it had worked, and it had worked very well, and he had no idea how it worked or what it was picking up on. Now, the problem isn't solved if he doesn't publish it, because there are already companies that are developing this kind of technology, and a lot of the stuff is just off the shelf. This is not very difficult anymore. Do you ever go on YouTube meaning to watch one video and an hour later you've watched 27? You know how YouTube has this column on the right that says, "Up next" and it autoplays something? It's an algorithm picking what it thinks that you might be interested in and maybe not find on your own. It's not a human editor. It's what algorithms do. It picks up on what you have watched and what people like you have watched, and infers that that must be what you're interested in, what you want more of, and just shows you more. It sounds like a benign and useful feature, except when it isn't. So in 2016, I attended rallies of then-candidate Donald Trump to study as a scholar the movement supporting him. I study social movements, so I was studying it, too. And then I wanted to write something about one of his rallies, so I watched it a few times on YouTube. YouTube started recommending to me and autoplaying to me white supremacist videos in increasing order of extremism. If I watched one, it served up one even more extreme and autoplayed that one, too. If you watch Hillary Clinton or Bernie Sanders content, YouTube recommends and autoplays conspiracy left, and it goes downhill from there. Well, you might be thinking, this is politics, but it's not. This isn't about politics. This is just the algorithm figuring out human behavior. I once watched a video about vegetarianism on YouTube and YouTube recommended and autoplayed a video about being vegan. It's like you're never hardcore enough for YouTube. (Laughter) So what's going on? Now, YouTube's algorithm is proprietary, but here's what I think is going on. The algorithm has figured out that if you can entice people into thinking that you can show them something more hardcore, they're more likely to stay on the site watching video after video going down that rabbit hole while Google serves them ads. Now, with nobody minding the ethics of the store, these sites can profile people who are Jew haters, who think that Jews are parasites and who have such explicit anti-Semitic content, and let you target them with ads. They can also mobilize algorithms to find for you look-alike audiences, people who do not have such explicit anti-Semitic content on their profile but who the algorithm detects may be susceptible to such messages, and lets you target them with ads, too. Now, this may sound like an implausible example, but this is real. ProPublica investigated this and found that you can indeed do this on Facebook, and Facebook helpfully offered up suggestions on how to broaden that audience. BuzzFeed tried it for Google, and very quickly they found, yep, you can do it on Google, too. And it wasn't even expensive. The ProPublica reporter spent about 30 dollars to target this category. So last year, Donald Trump's social media manager disclosed that they were using Facebook dark posts to demobilize people, not to persuade them, but to convince them not to vote at all. And to do that, they targeted specifically, for example, African-American men in key cities like Philadelphia, and I'm going to read exactly what he said. I'm quoting. They were using "nonpublic posts whose viewership the campaign controls so that only the people we want to see it see it. We modeled this. It will dramatically affect her ability to turn these people out." What's in those dark posts? We have no idea. Facebook won't tell us. So Facebook also algorithmically arranges the posts that your friends put on Facebook, or the pages you follow. It doesn't show you everything chronologically. It puts the order in the way that the algorithm thinks will entice you to stay on the site longer. Now, so this has a lot of consequences. You may be thinking somebody is snubbing you on Facebook. The algorithm may never be showing your post to them. The algorithm is prioritizing some of them and burying the others. Experiments show that what the algorithm picks to show you can affect your emotions. But that's not all. It also affects political behavior. So in 2010, in the midterm elections, Facebook did an experiment on 61 million people in the US that was disclosed after the fact. So some people were shown, "Today is election day," the simpler one, and some people were shown the one with that tiny tweak with those little thumbnails of your friends who clicked on "I voted." This simple tweak. OK? So the pictures were the only change, and that post shown just once turned out an additional 340,000 voters in that election, according to this research as confirmed by the voter rolls. A fluke? No. Because in 2012, they repeated the same experiment. And that time, that civic message shown just once turned out an additional 270,000 voters. For reference, the 2016 US presidential election was decided by about 100,000 votes. Now, Facebook can also very easily infer what your politics are, even if you've never disclosed them on the site. Right? These algorithms can do that quite easily. What if a platform with that kind of power decides to turn out supporters of one candidate over the other? How would we even know about it? Now, we started from someplace seemingly innocuous — online adds following us around — and we've landed someplace else. As a public and as citizens, we no longer know if we're seeing the same information or what anybody else is seeing, and without a common basis of information, little by little, public debate is becoming impossible, and we're just at the beginning stages of this. These algorithms can quite easily infer things like your people's ethnicity, religious and political views, personality traits, intelligence, happiness, use of addictive substances, parental separation, age and genders, just from Facebook likes. These algorithms can identify protesters even if their faces are partially concealed. These algorithms may be able to detect people's sexual orientation just from their dating profile pictures. Now, these are probabilistic guesses, so they're not going to be 100 percent right, but I don't see the powerful resisting the temptation to use these technologies just because there are some false positives, which will of course create a whole other layer of problems. Imagine what a state can do with the immense amount of data it has on its citizens. China is already using face detection technology to identify and arrest people. And here's the tragedy: we're building this infrastructure of surveillance authoritarianism merely to get people to click on ads. And this won't be Orwell's authoritarianism. This isn't "1984." Now, if authoritarianism is using overt fear to terrorize us, we'll all be scared, but we'll know it, we'll hate it and we'll resist it. But if the people in power are using these algorithms to quietly watch us, to judge us and to nudge us, to predict and identify the troublemakers and the rebels, to deploy persuasion architectures at scale and to manipulate individuals one by one using their personal, individual weaknesses and vulnerabilities, and if they're doing it at scale through our private screens so that we don't even know what our fellow citizens and neighbors are seeing, that authoritarianism will envelop us like a spider's web and we may not even know we're in it. So Facebook's market capitalization is approaching half a trillion dollars. It's because it works great as a persuasion architecture. But the structure of that architecture is the same whether you're selling shoes or whether you're selling politics. The algorithms do not know the difference. The same algorithms set loose upon us to make us more pliable for ads are also organizing our political, personal and social information flows, and that's what's got to change. Now, don't get me wrong, we use digital platforms because they provide us with great value. I use Facebook to keep in touch with friends and family around the world. I've written about how crucial social media is for social movements. I have studied how these technologies can be used to circumvent censorship around the world. But it's not that the people who run, you know, Facebook or Google are maliciously and deliberately trying to make the country or the world more polarized and encourage extremism. I read the many well-intentioned statements that these people put out. But it's not the intent or the statements people in technology make that matter, it's the structures and business models they're building. And that's the core of the problem. Either Facebook is a giant con of half a trillion dollars and ads don't work on the site, it doesn't work as a persuasion architecture, or its power of influence is of great concern. It's either one or the other. It's similar for Google, too. So what can we do? This needs to change. Now, I can't offer a simple recipe, because we need to restructure the whole way our digital technology operates. Everything from the way technology is developed to the way the incentives, economic and otherwise, are built into the system. We have to face and try to deal with the lack of transparency created by the proprietary algorithms, the structural challenge of machine learning's opacity, all this indiscriminate data that's being collected about us. We have a big task in front of us. We have to mobilize our technology, our creativity and yes, our politics so that we can build artificial intelligence that supports us in our human goals but that is also constrained by our human values. And I understand this won't be easy. We might not even easily agree on what those terms mean. But if we take seriously how these systems that we depend on for so much operate, I don't see how we can postpone this conversation anymore. These structures are organizing how we function and they're controlling what we can and we cannot do. And many of these ad-financed platforms, they boast that they're free. In this context, it means that we are the product that's being sold. We need a digital economy where our data and our attention is not for sale to the highest-bidding authoritarian or demagogue. (Applause) So to go back to that Hollywood paraphrase, we do want the prodigious potential of artificial intelligence and digital technology to blossom, but for that, we must face this prodigious menace, open-eyed and now. Thank you. (Applause) |
The future of storytelling | {0: 'With the runaway success of shows like Scandal and Grey’s Anatomy, Shonda Rhimes has become one of Hollywood’s most powerful icons.', 1: 'Cyndi Stivers curates special events for TED and often serves as a board member, adviser, business strategist and startup coach.'} | TED2017 | Cyndi Stivers: So, future of storytelling. Before we do the future, let's talk about what is never going to change about storytelling. Shonda Rhimes: What's never going to change. Obviously, I think good stories are never going to change, the need for people to gather together and exchange their stories and to talk about the things that feel universal, the idea that we all feel a compelling need to watch stories, to tell stories, to share stories — sort of the gathering around the campfire to discuss the things that tell each one of us that we are not alone in the world. Those things to me are never going to change. That essence of storytelling is never going to change. CS: OK. In preparation for this conversation, I checked in with Susan Lyne, who was running ABC Entertainment when you were working on "Grey's Anatomy" — SR: Yes. CS: And she said that there was this indelible memory she had of your casting process, where without discussing it with any of the executives, you got people coming in to read for your scripts, and every one of them was the full range of humanity, you did not type anyone in any way, and that it was completely surprising. So she said, in addition to retraining the studio executives, you also, she feels, and I think this is — I agree, retrained the expectations of the American TV audience. So what else does the audience not yet realize that it needs? SR: What else does it not yet realize? Well, I mean, I don't think we're anywhere near there yet. I mean, we're still in a place in which we're far, far behind what looks like the real world in actuality. I wasn't bringing in a bunch of actors who looked very different from one another simply because I was trying to make a point, and I wasn't trying to do anything special. It never occurred to me that that was new, different or weird. I just brought in actors because I thought they were interesting and to me, the idea that it was completely surprising to everybody — I didn't know that for a while. I just thought: these are the actors I want to see play these parts. I want to see what they look like if they read. We'll see what happens. So I think the interesting thing that happens is that when you look at the world through another lens, when you're not the person normally in charge of things, it just comes out a different way. CS: So you now have this big machine that you run, as a titan — as you know, last year when she gave her talk — she's a titan. So what do you think is going to happen as we go on? There's a huge amount of money involved in producing these shows. While the tools of making stories have gone and gotten greatly democratized, there's still this large distribution: people who rent networks, who rent the audience to advertisers and make it all pay. How do you see the business model changing now that anyone can be a storyteller? SR: I think it's changing every day. I mean, the rapid, rapid change that's happening is amazing. And I feel — the panic is palpable, and I don't mean that in a bad way. I think it's kind of exciting. The idea that there's sort of an equalizer happening, that sort of means that anybody can make something, is wonderful. I think there's some scary in the idea that you can't find the good work now. There's so much work out there. I think there's something like 417 dramas on television right now at any given time in any given place, but you can't find them. You can't find the good ones. So there's a lot of bad stuff out there because everybody can make something. It's like if everybody painted a painting. You know, there's not that many good painters. But finding the good stories, the good shows, is harder and harder and harder. Because if you have one tiny show over here on AMC and one tiny show over here over there, finding where they are becomes much harder. So I think that ferreting out the gems and finding out who made the great webisode and who made this, it's — I mean, think about the poor critics who now are spending 24 hours a day trapped in their homes watching everything. It's not an easy job right now. So the distribution engines are getting more and more vast, but finding the good programming for everybody in the audience is getting harder. And unlike the news, where everything's getting winnowed down to just who you are, television seems to be getting — and by television I mean anything you can watch, television shows on — seems to be getting wider and wider and wider. And so anybody's making stories, and the geniuses are sometimes hidden. But it's going to be harder to find, and at some point that will collapse. People keep talking about peak TV. I don't know when that's going to happen. I think at some point it'll collapse a little bit and we'll, sort of, come back together. I don't know if it will be network television. I don't know if that model is sustainable. CS: What about the model that Amazon and Netflix are throwing a lot of money around right now. SR: That is true. I think it's an interesting model. I think there's something exciting about it. For content creators, I think there's something exciting about it. For the world, I think there's something exciting about it. The idea that there are programs now that can be in multiple languages with characters from all over the world that are appealing and come out for everybody at the same time is exciting. I mean, I think the international sense that television can now take on makes sense to me, that programming can now take on. Television so much is made for, like — here's our American audience. We make these shows, and then they shove them out into the world and hope for the best, as opposed to really thinking about the fact that America is not it. I mean, we love ourselves and everything, but it's not i. And we should be taking into account the fact that there are all of these other places in the world that we should be interested in while we're telling stories. It makes the world smaller. I don't know. I think it pushes forward the idea that the world is a universal place, and our stories become universal things. We stop being other. CS: You've pioneered, as far as I can see, interesting ways to launch new shows, too. I mean, when you launched "Scandal" in 2012, there was this amazing groundswell of support on Twitter the likes of which nobody had seen before. Do you have any other tricks up your sleeve when you launch your next one? What do you think will happen in that regard? SR: We do have some interesting ideas. We have a show called "Still Star-Crossed" coming out this summer. We have some interesting ideas for that. I'm not sure if we're going to be able to do them in time. I thought they were fun. But the idea that we would live-tweet our show was really just us thinking that would be fun. We didn't realize that the critics would start to live-tweet along with us. But the fans — getting people to be a part of it, making it more of a campfire — you know, when you're all on Twitter together and you're all talking together, it is more of a shared experience, and finding other ways to make that possible and finding other ways to make people feel engaged is important. CS: So when you have all those different people making stories and only some of them are going to break through and get that audience somehow, how do you think storytellers will get paid? SR: I actually have been struggling with this concept as well. Is it going to be a subscriber model? Are people going to say, like, I'm going to watch this particular person's shows, and that's how we're going to do it? CS: I think we should buy a passport to Shondaland. Right? SR: I don't know about that, but yeah. That's a lot more work for me. I do think that there are going to be different ways, but I don't know necessarily. I mean, I'll be honest and say a lot of content creators are not necessarily interested in being distributors, mainly because what I dream of doing is creating content. I really love to create content. I want to get paid for it and I want to get paid the money that I deserve to get paid for it, and there's a hard part in finding that. But I also want it to be made possible for, you know, the people who work with me, the people who work for me, everybody to sort of get paid in a way, and they're all making a living. How it gets distributed is getting harder and harder. CS: How about the many new tools, you know, VR, AR ... I find it fascinating that you can't really binge-watch, you can't fast-forward in those things. What do you see as the future of those for storytelling? SR: I spent a lot of time in the past year just exploring those, getting lots of demonstrations and paying attention. I find them fascinating, mainly because I think that — I think most people think of them for gaming, I think most people think of them for things like action, and I think that there is a sense of intimacy that is very present in those things, the idea that — picture this, you can sit there and have a conversation with Fitz, or at least sit there while Fitz talks to you, President Fitzgerald Grant III, while he talks to you about why he's making a choice that he makes, and it's a very heartfelt moment. And instead of you watching a television screen, you're sitting there next to him, and he's having this conversation. Now, you fall in love with the man while he's doing it from a television screen. Imagine sitting next to him, or being with a character like Huck who's about to execute somebody. And instead of having a scene where, you know, he's talking to another character very rapidly, he goes into a closet and turns to you and tells you, you know, what's going to happen and why he's afraid and nervous. It's a little more like theater, and I'm not sure it would work, but I'm fascinating by the concept of something like that and what that would mean for an audience. And to get to play with those ideas would be interesting, and I think, you know, for my audience, the people who watch my shows, which is, you know, women 12 to 75, there's something interesting in there for them. CS: And how about the input of the audience? How interested are you in the things where the audience can actually go up to a certain point and then decide, oh wait, I'm going to choose my own adventure. I'm going to run off with Fitz or I'm going to run off with — SR: Oh, the choose- your-own-adventure stories. I have a hard time with those, and not necessarily because I want to be in control of everything, but because when I'm watching television or I'm watching a movie, I know for a fact that a story is not as good when I have control over exactly what's going to happen to somebody else's character. You know, if I could tell you exactly what I wanted to happen to Walter White, that's great, but the story is not the same, and it's not as powerful. You know, if I'm in charge of how "The Sopranos" ends, then that's lovely and I have an ending that's nice and satisfying, but it's not the same story and it's not the same emotional impact. CS: I can't stop imagining what that might be. Sorry, you're losing me for a minute. SR: But what's wonderful is I don't get to imagine it, because Vince has his own ending, and it makes it really powerful to know that somebody else has told. You know, if you could decide that, you know, in "Jaws," the shark wins or something, it doesn't do what it needs to do for you. The story is the story that is told, and you can walk away angry and you can walk away debating and you can walk away arguing, but that's why it works. That is why it's art. Otherwise, it's just a game, and games can be art, but in a very different way. CS: Gamers who actually sell the right to sit there and comment on what's happening, to me that's more community than storytelling. SR: And that is its own form of campfire. I don't discount that as a form of storytelling, but it is a group form, I suppose. CS: All right, what about the super-super — the fact that everything's getting shorter, shorter, shorter. And, you know, Snapchat now has something it calls shows that are one minute long. SR: It's interesting. Part of me thinks it sounds like commercials. I mean, it does — like, sponsored by. But part of me also gets it completely. There's something really wonderful about it. If you think about a world in which most people are watching television on their phones, if you think about a place like India, where most of the input is coming in and that's where most of the product is coming in, shorter makes sense. If you can charge people more for shorter periods of content, some distributor has figured out a way to make a lot more money. If you're making content, it costs less money to make it and put it out there. And, by the way, if you're 14 and have a short attention span, like my daughter, that's what you want to see, that's what you want to make, that's how it works. And if you do it right and it actually feels like narrative, people will hang on for it no matter what you do. CS: I'm glad you raised your daughters, because I am wondering how are they going to consume entertainment, and also not just entertainment, but news, too. When they're not — I mean, the algorithmic robot overlords are going to feed them what they've already done. How do you think we will correct for that and make people well-rounded citizens? SR: Well, me and how I correct for it is completely different than how somebody else might do it. CS: Feel free to speculate. SR: I really don't know how we're going to do it in the future. I mean, my poor children have been the subject of all of my experiments. We're still doing what I call "Amish summers" where I turn off all electronics and pack away all their computers and stuff and watch them scream for a while until they settle down into, like, an electronic-free summer. But honestly, it's a very hard world in which now, as grown-ups, we're so interested in watching our own thing, and we don't even know that we're being fed, sometimes, just our own opinions. You know, the way it's working now, you're watching a feed, and the feeds are being corrected so that you're only getting your own opinions and you're feeling more and more right about yourself. So how do you really start to discern? It's getting a little bit disturbing. So maybe it'll overcorrect, maybe it'll all explode, or maybe we'll all just become — I hate to be negative about it, but maybe we'll all just become more idiotic. (Cyndi laughs) CS: Yeah, can you picture any corrective that you could do with scripted, fictional work? SR: I think a lot about the fact that television has the power to educate people in a powerful way, and when you're watching television — for instance, they do studies about medical shows. I think it's 87 percent, 87 percent of people get most of their knowledge about medicine and medical facts from medical shows, much more so than they do from their doctors, than from articles. So we work really hard to be accurate, and every time we make a mistake, I feel really guilty, like we're going to do something bad, but we also give a lot of good medical information. There are so many other ways to give information on those shows. People are being entertained and maybe they don't want to read the news, but there are a lot of ways to give fair information out on those shows, not in some creepy, like, we're going to control people's minds way, but in a way that's sort of very interesting and intelligent and not about pushing one side's version or the other, like, giving out the truth. It would be strange, though, if television drama was how we were giving the news. CS: It would be strange, but I gather a lot of what you've written as fiction has become prediction this season? SR: You know, "Scandal" has been very disturbing for that reason. We have this show that's about politics gone mad, and basically the way we've always told the show — you know, everybody pays attention to the papers. We read everything. We talk about everything. We have lots of friends in Washington. And we'd always sort of done our show as a speculation. We'd sit in the room and think, what would happen if the wheels came off the bus and everything went crazy? And that was always great, except now it felt like the wheels were coming off the bus and things were actually going crazy, so the things that we were speculating were really coming true. I mean, our season this year was going to end with the Russians controlling the American election, and we'd written it, we'd planned for it, it was all there, and then the Russians were suspected of being involved in the American election and we suddenly had to change what we were going to do for our season. I walked in and I was like, "That scene where our mystery woman starts speaking Russian? We have to fix that and figure out what we're going to do." That just comes from extrapolating out from what we thought was going to happen, or what we thought was crazy. CS: That's great. So where else in US or elsewhere in the world do you look? Who is doing interesting storytelling right now? SR: I don't know, there's a lot of interesting stuff out there. Obviously British television is always amazing and always does interesting things. I don't get to watch a lot of TV, mainly because I'm busy working. And I pretty much try not to watch very much television at all, even American television, until I'm done with a season, because things start to creep into my head otherwise. I start to wonder, like, why can't our characters wear crowns and talk about being on a throne? It gets crazy. So I try not to watch much until the seasons are over. But I do think that there's a lot of interesting European television out there. I was at the International Emmys and looking around and seeing the stuff that they were showing, and I was kind of fascinated. There's some stuff I want to watch and check out. CS: Can you imagine — I know that you don't spend a lot of time thinking about tech stuff, but you know how a few years ago we had someone here at TED talking about seeing, wearing Google Glass and seeing your TV shows essentially in your eye? Do you ever fantasize when, you know — the little girl who sat on the pantry floor in your parents' house, did you ever imagine any other medium? Or would you now? SR: Any other medium. For storytelling, other than books? I mean, I grew up wanting to be Toni Morrison, so no. I mean, I didn't even imagine television. So the idea that there could be some bigger world, some more magical way of making things —- I'm always excited when new technology comes out and I'm always the first one to want to try it. The possibilities feel endless and exciting right now, which is what excites me. We're in this sort of Wild West period, to me, it feels like, because nobody knows what we're going to settle on. You can put stories anywhere right now and that's cool to me, and it feels like once we figure out how to get the technology and the creativity of storytelling to meet, the possibilities are endless. CS: And also the technology has enabled the thing I briefly flew by earlier, binge-viewing, which is a recent phenomenon, since you've been doing shows, right? And how do you think does that change the storytelling process at all? You always had a bible for the whole season beforehand, right? SR: No, I just always knew where we were going to end. So for me, the only way I can really comment on that is that I have a show that's been going on for 14 seasons and so there are the people who have been watching it for 14 seasons, and then there are the 12-year-old girls I'd encounter in the grocery store who had watched 297 episodes in three weeks. Seriously, and that's a very different experience for them, because they've been inside of something really intensely for a very short period of time in a very intense way, and to them the story has a completely different arc and a completely different meaning because it never had any breaks. CS: It's like visiting a country and then leaving it. It's a strange — SR: It's like reading an amazing novel and then putting it down. I think that is the beauty of the experience. You don't necessarily have to watch something for 14 seasons. It's not necessarily the way everything's supposed to be. CS: Is there any topic that you don't think we should touch? SR: I don't think I think of story that way. I think of story in terms of character and what characters would do and what characters need to do in order to make them move forward, so I'm never really thinking of story in terms of just plot, and when writers come into my writer's room and pitch me plot, I say, "You're not speaking English." Like, that's the thing I say. We're not speaking English. I need to hear what's real. And so I don't think of it that way. I don't know if there's a way to think there's something I wouldn't do because that feels like I'm plucking pieces of plot off a wall or something. CS: That's great. To what extent do you think you will use — You know, you recently went on the board of Planned Parenthood and got involved in the Hillary Clinton campaign. To what extent do you think you will use your storytelling in the real world to effect change? SR: Well, you know, there's — That's an intense subject to me, because I feel like the lack of narrative that a lot of people have is difficult. You know, like, there's a lot of organizations that don't have a positive narrative that they've created for themselves that would help them. There's a lot of campaigns that could be helped with a better narrative. The Democrats could do a lot with a very strong narrative for themselves. There's a lot of different things that could happen in terms of using storytelling voice, and I don't mean that in a fiction way, I mean that in a same way that any speechwriter would mean it. And I see that, but I don't necessarily know that that's, like, my job to do that. CS: All right. Please help me thank Shonda. SR: Thank you. (Applause) |
Can we stop climate change by removing CO2 from the air? | {0: 'Tim Kruger researches geoengineering: techniques to counteract climate change by deliberate, large-scale intervention in the earth system -- either by reflecting sunlight back into space or by reducing the level of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere.'} | TED2017 | To avoid dangerous climate change, we're going to need to cut emissions rapidly. That should be a pretty uncontentious statement, certainly with this audience. But here's something that's slightly more contentious: it's not going to be enough. We will munch our way through our remaining carbon budget for one and a half degrees in a few short years, and the two degree budget in about two decades. We need to not only cut emissions extremely rapidly, we also need to take carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere. Thank you. (Laughter) I work assessing a whole range of these proposed techniques to see if they can work. We could use plants to take CO2 out, and then store it in trees, in the soil, deep underground or in the oceans. We could build large machines, so-called artificial trees, that will scrub CO2 from the air. For these ideas to be feasible, we need to understand whether they can be applied at a vast scale in a way that is safe, economic and socially acceptable. All of these ideas come with tradeoffs. None of them are perfect, but many have potential. It's unlikely that any one of them will solve it on its own. There is no silver bullet, but potentially together, they may form the silver buckshot that we need to stop climate change in its tracks. I'm working independently on one particular idea which uses natural gas to generate electricity in a way that takes carbon dioxide out of the air. Huh? How does that work? So the Origen Power Process feeds natural gas into a fuel cell. About half the chemical energy is converted into electricity, and the remainder into heat, which is used to break down limestone into lime and carbon dioxide. Now at this point, you're probably thinking that I'm nuts. It's actually generating carbon dioxide. But the key point is, all of the carbon dioxide generated, both from the fuel cell and from the lime kiln, is pure, and that's really important, because it means you can either use that carbon dioxide or you can store it away deep underground at low cost. And then the lime that you produce can be used in industrial processes, and in being used, it scrubs CO2 out of the air. Overall, the process is carbon negative. It removes carbon dioxide from the air. If you normally generate electricity from natural gas, you emit about 400 grams of CO2 into the air for every kilowatt-hour. With this process, that figure is minus 600. At the moment, power generation is responsible for about a quarter of all carbon dioxide emissions. Hypothetically, if you replaced all power generation with this process, then you would not only eliminate all of the emissions from power generation but you would start removing emissions from other sectors as well, potentially cutting 60 percent of overall carbon emissions. You could even use the lime to add it directly to seawater to counteract ocean acidification, one of the other issues that is caused by CO2 in the atmosphere. In fact, you get more bang for your buck. You absorb about twice as much carbon dioxide when you add it to seawater as when you use it industrially. But this is where it gets really complicated. While counteracting ocean acidification is a good thing, we don't fully understand what the environmental consequences are, and so we need to assess whether this treatment is actually better than the disease that it is seeking to cure. We need to put in place step-by-step governance for experiments to assess this safely. And the scale: to avoid dangerous climate change, we are going to need to remove trillions — and yes, that's trillions with a T — trillions of tons of carbon dioxide from the atmosphere in the decades ahead. It will cost a few percent of GDP — think defense-sized expenditure, lots of industrial activity and inevitably harmful side effects. But if the scale seems enormous, it is only because of the scale of the problem that we are seeking to solve. It's enormous as well. We can no longer avoid these thorny issues. We face risks whichever way we turn: a world changed by climate change or a world changed by climate change and our efforts to counter climate change. Would that it were not so, but we can no longer afford to close our eyes, block our ears, and say la-la-la. We need to grow up and face the consequences of our actions. (Applause) Does talk of curing climate change undermine the will to cut emissions? This is a real concern, so we need to emphasize the paramount importance of reducing emissions and how speculative these ideas are. But having done so, we still need to examine them. Can we cure climate change? I don't know, but we certainly can't if we don't try. We need ambition without arrogance. We need the ambition to restore the atmosphere, to draw down carbon dioxide back to a level that is compatible with a stable climate and healthy oceans. This will be an enormous undertaking. You could describe it as a cathedral project. Those involved at the outset may draft the plans and dig the foundations, but they will not raise the spire to its full height. That task, that privilege, belongs to our descendants. None of us will see that day, but we must start in the hope that future generations will be able to finish the job. So, do you want to change the world? I don't. I do not seek the change the world, but rather keep it as it's meant to be. Thank you. (Applause) Chris Anderson: Thanks. I just want to ask you a couple of other questions. Tell us a bit more about this idea of putting lime in the ocean. I mean, on the face of it, it's pretty compelling — anti-ocean acidification — and it absorbs more CO2. You talked about, we need to do an experiment on this. What would a responsible experiment look like? Tim Kruger: So I think you need to do a series of experiments, but you need to do them just very small stage-by-stage. In the same way, when you're trialing a new drug, you wouldn't just go into human trials straight off. You would do a small experiment. And so the first things to do are experiments entirely on land, in special containers, away from the environment. And then once you are confident that that can be done safely, you move to the next stage. If you're not confident, you don't. But step by step. CA: And who would fund such experiments? Because they kind of impact the whole planet at some level. Is that why nothing is happening on this? TK: So I think you can do small-scale experiments in national waters, and then it's probably the requirement of national funders to do that. But ultimately, if you wanted to counter ocean acidification in this way on a global scale, you would need to do it in international waters, and then you would need to have an international community working on it. CA: Even in national waters, you know, the ocean's all connected. That lime is going to get out there. And people feel outraged about doing experiments on the planet, as we've heard. How do you counter that? TK: I think you touch on something which is really important. It's about a social license to operate. And I think it may be that it is impossible to do, but we need to have the courage to try, to move this forward, to see what we can do, and to engage openly. And we need to engage with people in a transparent way. We need to ask them beforehand. And I think if we ask them, we have to be open to the possibility that the answer will come back, "No, don't do it." CA: Thanks so much. That was really fascinating. TK: Thank you. (Applause) |
How to win at evolution and survive a mass extinction | {0: 'TED Fellow Lauren Sallan is a "next generation" paleobiologist applying cutting-edge developments in big data analytics to reveal how evolution happens at the largest scales (macroevolution), particularly in the oceans.'} | TED2017 | Congratulations. By being here, listening, alive, a member of a growing species, you are one of history's greatest winners — the culmination of a success story four billion years in the making. You are life's one percent. The losers, the 99 percent of species who have ever lived, are dead — killed by fire, flood, asteroids, predation, starvation, ice, heat and the cold math of natural selection. Your ancestors, back to the earliest fishes, overcame all these challenges. You are here because of golden opportunities made possible by mass extinction. (Laughter) It's true. The same is true of your co-winners and relatives. The 34,000 kinds of fishes. How did we all get so lucky? Will we continue to win? I am a fish paleobiologist who uses big data — the fossil record — to study how some species win and others lose. The living can't tell us; they know nothing but winning. So, we must speak with the dead. How do we make dead fishes talk? Museums contain multitudes of beautiful fish fossils, but their real beauty emerges when combined with the larger number of ugly, broken fossils, and reduced to ones and zeros. I can trawl a 500-million-year database for evolutionary patterns. For example, fish forms can be captured by coordinates and transformed to reveal major pathways of change and trends through time. Here is the story of the winners and losers of just one pivotal event I discovered using fossil data. Let's travel back 360 million years — six times as long ago as the last dinosaur — to the Devonian period; a strange world. Armored predators with razor-edge jaws dominated alongside huge fishes with arm bones in their fins. Crab-like fishes scuttled across the sea floor. The few ray-fin relatives of salmon and tuna cowered at the bottom of the food chain. The few early sharks lived offshore in fear. Your few four-legged ancestors, the tetrapods, struggled in tropical river plains. Ecosystems were crowded. There was no escape, no opportunity in sight. Then the world ended. (Laughter) No, it is a good thing. 96 percent of all fish species died during the Hangenberg event, 359 million years ago: an interval of fire and ice. A crowded world was disrupted and swept away. Now, you might think that's the end of the story. The mighty fell, the meek inherited the earth, and here we are. But winning is not that simple. The handful of survivors came from many groups — all greatly outnumbered by their own dead. They ranged from top predator to bottom-feeder, big to small, marine to freshwater. The extinction was a filter. It merely leveled the playing field. What really counted was what survivors did over the next several million years in that devastated world. The former overlords should have had an advantage. They became even larger, storing energy, investing in their young, spreading across the globe, feasting on fishes, keeping what had always worked, and biding their time. Yet they merely persisted for a while, declining without innovating, becoming living fossils. They were too stuck in their ways and are now largely forgotten. A few of the long-suffering ray-fins, sharks and four-legged tetrapods went the opposite direction. They became smaller — living fast, dying young, eating little and reproducing rapidly. They tried new foods, different homes, strange heads and weird bodies. (Laughter) And they found opportunity, proliferated, and won the future for their 60,000 living species, including you. That's why they look familiar. You know their names. Winning is not about random events or an arms race. Rather, survivors went down alternative, evolutionary pathways. Some found incredible success, while others became dead fish walking. (Laughter) A real scientific term. (Laughter) I am now investigating how these pathways to victory and defeat repeat across time. My lab has already compiled thousands upon thousands of dead fishes, but many more remain. However, it is already clear that your ancestors' survival through mass extinction, and their responses in the aftermath made you who you are today. What does this tell us for the future? As long as a handful of species survive, life will recover. The versatile and the lucky will not just replace what was lost, but win in new forms. It just might take several million years. Thank you. (Applause) |
Sci-fi stories that imagine a future Africa | {0: 'Nnedi Okorafor weaves African cultures into the evocative settings and memorable characters of her science fiction work for kids and adults.'} | TEDGlobal 2017 | What if an African girl from a traditional family in a part of future Africa is accepted into the finest university in the galaxy, planets away? What if she decides to go? This is an excerpt from my "Binti" novella trilogy: I powered up the transporter and said a silent prayer. I had no idea what I was going to do if it didn't work. My transporter was cheap, so even a droplet of moisture or, more likely, a grain of sand, would cause it to short. It was faulty, and most of the time I had to restart it over and over before it worked. "Please not now, please not now," I thought. The transporter shivered in the sand and I held my breath. Tiny, flat and black as a prayer stone, it buzzed softly and then slowly rose from the sand. Finally, it produced the baggage-lifting force. I grinned. Now I could make it to the shuttle on time. I swiped otjize from my forehead with my index finger and knelt down, then I touched the finger to the sand, grounding the sweet-smelling red clay into it. "Thank you," I whispered. It was a half-mile walk along the dark desert road. With the transporter working I would make it there on time. Straightening up, I paused and shut my eyes. Now, the weight of my entire life was pressing on my shoulders. I was defying the most traditional part of myself for the first time in my entire life. I was leaving in the dead of night, and they had no clue. My nine siblings, all older than me except for my younger sister and brother, would never see this coming. My parents would never imagine I'd do such a thing in a million years. By the time they all realized what I'd done and where I was going, I'd have left the planet. In my absence, my parents would growl to each other that I was never to set foot in their home again. My four aunties and two uncles who lived down the road would shout and gossip amongst themselves about how I had scandalized the entire bloodline. I was going to be a pariah. "Go," I softly whispered to the transporter, stamping my foot. The thin metal rings I wore around each ankle jingled noisily, but I stamped my foot again. Once on, the transporter worked best when I didn't touch it. "Go," I said again, sweat forming on my brow. When nothing moved, I chanced giving the two large suitcases sitting atop the force field a shove. They moved smoothly, and I breathed another sigh of relief. At least some luck was on my side. So, in a distant future part of Africa, Binti is a mathematical genius of the Himba ethnic group. She's been accepted into a university on another planet, and she's decided to go. Carrying the blood of her people in her veins, adorned with the teachings, ways, even the land on her very skin, Binti leaves the earth. As the story progresses, she becomes not other, but more. This idea of leaving but bringing and then becoming more is at one of the hearts of Afrofuturism, or you can simply call it a different type of science fiction. I can best explain the difference between classic science fiction and Afrofuturism if I used the octopus analogy. Like humans, octopuses are some of the most intelligent creatures on earth. However, octopus intelligence evolved from a different evolutionary line, separate from that of human beings, so the foundation is different. The same can be said about the foundations of various forms of science fiction. So much of science fiction speculates about technologies, societies, social issues, what's beyond our planet, what's within our planet. Science fiction is one of the greatest and most effective forms of political writing. It's all about the question, "What if?" Still, not all science fiction has the same ancestral bloodline, that line being Western-rooted science fiction, which is mostly white and male. We're talking Isaac Asimov, Jules Verne, H.G. Wells, George Orwell, Robert Heinlein, etc. So what if a Nigerian-American wrote science fiction? Growing up, I didn't read much science fiction. I couldn't relate to these stories preoccupied with xenophobia, colonization and seeing aliens as others. And I saw no reflection of anyone who looked like me in those narratives. In the "Binti" novella trilogy, Binti leaves the planet to seek education from extraterrestrials. She goes out as she is, looking the way she looks, carrying her cultures, being who she is. I was inspired to write this story not because I was following a line of classic space opera narratives, but because of blood that runs deep, family, cultural conflict and the need to see an African girl leave the planet on her own terms. My science fiction had different ancestors, African ones. So I'm Nigerian-American. I was born to two Nigerian immigrant parents and raised in the United States, one of the birthplaces of classic science fiction. However, it was my Nigerian heritage that led me to write science fiction. Specifically I cite those family trips to Nigeria in the late '90s. I'd been taking trips back to Nigeria with my family since I was very young. These early trips inspired me. Hence the first story that I ever even wrote took place in Nigeria. I wrote mainly magical realism and fantasy inspired by my love of Igbo and other West African traditional cosmologies and spiritualities. However, in the late '90s, I started noticing the role of technology in Nigeria: cable TV and cell phones in the village, 419 scammers occupying the cybercafes, the small generator connected to my cousin's desktop computer because the power was always going on and off. And my Americanness othered me enough to be intrigued by these things that most Nigerians saw as normal. My intrigue eventually gave birth to stories. I started opening strange doors. What if aliens came to Lagos, Nigeria? This is an excerpt from my novel, "Lagoon." Everybody saw it, all over the world. That was a real introduction to the great mess happening in Lagos, Nigeria, West Africa, Africa, here. Because so many people in Lagos had portable, chargeable, glowing, vibrating, chirping, tweeting, communicating, connected devices, practically everything was recorded and posted online in some way, somehow, quickly. The modern human world is connected like a spider's web. The world was watching. It watched in fascinated horror for information, but mostly for entertainment. Footage of what was happening dominated every international news source, video-sharing website, social network, circle, pyramid and trapezoid. But the story goes deeper. It is in the mud, the dirt, the earth, in the fond memory of the soily cosmos. It is in the always mingling past, present and future. It is in the water. It is in the powerful spirits and ancestors who dwelled in Lagos. It is in the hearts and minds of the people of Lagos. Change begets change. The alien Ayodele knew it. All her people know it. So, this is a voice of Udide, the supreme spider artist, who is older than dirt and lives in the dirt beneath the city of Lagos, listening and commenting and weaving the story of extraterrestrials coming to Lagos. In the end, the great spider who was the size of a house and responsible for weaving the past, present and future decides to come forth and be a part of the story. Like Udide, the spider artist, African science fiction's blood runs deep and it's old, and it's ready to come forth, and when it does, imagine the new technologies, ideas and sociopolitical changes it'll inspire. For Africans, homegrown science fiction can be a will to power. What if? It's a powerful question. Thank you. (Applause) |
The surprisingly charming science of your gut | {0: 'Giulia Enders is working to reveal how our gut is at the core of who we are.'} | TEDxDanubia | A few years ago, I always had this thing happening to me, especially at family gatherings like teas with aunts and uncles or something like this. When people come up to you, and they ask you, "So, what are you doing?" And I would have this magical one-word reply, which would make everybody happy: "Medicine. I'm going to be a doctor." Very easy, that's it, everybody's happy and pleased. And it could be so easy, but this effect really only lasts for 30 seconds with me, because that's then the time when one of them would ask, "So, in what area of medicine? What specialty do you want to go into?" And then I would have to strip down in all honesty and just say, "OK, so I'm fascinated with the colon. It all started with the anus, and now it's basically the whole intestinal tract." (Laughter) And this would be the moment when the enthusiasm trickled, and it would maybe also get, like, awkwardly silent in the room, and I would think this was terribly sad, because I do believe our bowels are quite charming. (Laughter) And while we're in a time where many people are thinking about what new superfood smoothie to make or if gluten is maybe bad for them, actually, hardly anyone seems to care about the organ where this happens, the concrete anatomy and the mechanisms behind it. And sometimes it seems to me like we're all trying to figure out this magic trick, but nobody's checking out the magician, just because he has, like, an embarrassing hairstyle or something. And actually, there are reasons science disliked the gut for a long time; I have to say this. So, it's complex. There's a lot of surface area — about 40 times the area of our skin. Then, in such a tight pipe, there are so many immune cells that are being trained there. We have 100 trillion bacteria doing all sorts of things — producing little molecules. Then there's about 20 different hormones, so we are on a very different level than our genitals, for example. And the nervous system of our gut is so complex that when we cut out a piece, it's independent enough that when we poke it, it mumbles back at us, friendly. (Laughter) But at least those reasons are also the reasons why it's so fascinating and important. It took me three steps to love the gut. So today, I invite you to follow me on those three steps. The very first was just looking at it and asking questions like, "How does it work?" and "Why does it have to look so weird for that sometimes?" And it actually wasn't me asking the first kind of these questions, but my roommate. After one heavy night of partying, he came into our shared-room kitchen, and he said, "Giulia, you study medicine. How does pooping work?" (Laughter) And I did study medicine but I had no idea, so I had to go up to my room and look it up in different books. And I found something interesting, I thought, at that time. So it turns out, we don't only have this outer sphincter, we also have an inner sphincter muscle. The outer sphincter we all know, we can control it, we know what's going on there; the inner one, we really don't. So what happens is, when there are leftovers from digestion, they're being delivered to the inner one first. This inner one will open in a reflex and let through a little bit for testing. (Laughter) So, there are sensory cells that will analyze what has been delivered: Is it gaseous or is it solid? And they will then send this information up to our brain, and this is the moment when our brain knows, "Oh, I have to go to the toilet." (Laughter) The brain will then do what it's designed to do with its amazing consciousness. It will mediate with our surroundings, and it will say something like, "So, I checked. We are at this TEDx conference — " (Laughter) (Applause) Gaseous? Maybe, if you're sitting on the sides, and you know you can pull it off silently. (Laughter) But solid — maybe later. (Laughter) Since our outer sphincter and the brain is connected with nervous cells, they coordinate, cooperate, and they put it back in a waiting line — (Laughter) for other times, like, for example, when we're at home sitting on the couch, we have nothing better to do, we are free to go. (Laughter) Us humans are actually one of the very few animals that do this in such an advanced and clean way. To be honest, I had some newfound respect for that nice, inner sphincter dude — not connected to nerves that care too much about the outer world or the time — just caring about me for once. I thought that was nice. And I used to not be a great fan of public restrooms, but now I can go anywhere, because I consider it more when that inner muscle puts a suggestion on my daily agenda. (Laughter) And also I learned something else, which was: looking closely at something I might have shied away from — maybe the weirdest part of myself — left me feeling more fearless, and also appreciating myself more. And I think this happens a lot of times when you look at the gut, actually. Like those funny rumbling noises that happen when you're in a group of friends or at the office conference table, going, like, "Merrr, merrr..." This is not because we're hungry. This is because our small intestine is actually a huge neat freak, and it takes the time in between digestion to clean everything up, resulting in those eight meters of gut — really, seven of them — being very clean and hardly smelling like anything. It will, to achieve this, create a strong muscular wave that moves everything forward that's been leftover after digestion. This can sometimes create a sound, but doesn't necessarily have to always. So what we're embarrassed of is really a sign of something keeping our insides fine and tidy. Or this weird, crooked shape of our stomach — a bit Quasimodo-ish. This actually makes us be able to put pressure on our belly without vomiting, like when we're laughing and when we're doing sports, because the pressure will go up and not so much sideways. This also creates this air bubble that's usually always very visible in X-rays, for example, and can sometimes, with some people, when it gets too big, create discomfort or even some sensations of pain. But for most of the people, is just results that it's far easier to burp when you're laying on your left side instead of your right. And soon I moved a bit further and started to look at the whole picture of our body and health. This was actually after I had heard that someone I knew a little bit had killed himself. It happened that I had been sitting next to that person the day before, and I smelled that he had very bad breath. And when I learned of the suicide the next day, I thought: Could the gut have something to do with it? And I frantically started searching if there were scientific papers on the connection of gut and brain. And to my surprise, I found many. It turns out it's maybe not as simple as we sometimes think. We tend to think our brain makes these commands and then sends them down to the other organs, and they all have to listen. But really, it's more that 10 percent of the nerves that connect brain and gut deliver information from the brain to the gut. We know this, for example, in stressful situations, when there are transmitters from the brain that are being sensed by our gut, so the gut will try to lower all the work, and not be working and taking away blood and energy to save energy for problem-solving. This can go as far as nervous vomiting or nervous diarrhea to get rid of food that it then doesn't want to digest. Maybe more interestingly, 90 percent of the nervous fibers that connect gut and brain deliver information from our gut to our brain. And when you think about it a little bit, it does make sense, because our brain is very isolated. It's in this bony skull surrounded by a thick skin, and it needs information to put together a feeling of "How am I, as a whole body, doing?" And the gut, actually, is possibly the most important advisor for the brain because it's our largest sensory organ, collecting information not only on the quality of our nutrients, but really also on how are so many of our immune cells doing, or things like the hormones in our blood that it can sense. And it can package this information, and send it up to the brain. It can, there, not reach areas like visual cortex or word formations — otherwise, when we digest, we would see funny colors or we would make funny noises — no. But it can reach areas for things like morality, fear or emotional processing or areas for self-awareness. So it does make sense that when our body and our brain are putting together this feeling of, "How am I, as a whole body, doing?" that the gut has something to contribute to this process. And it also makes sense that people who have conditions like irritable bowel syndrome or inflammatory bowel disease have a higher risk of having anxiety or depression. I think this is good information to share, because many people will think, "I have this gut thing, and maybe I also have this mental health thing." And maybe — because science is not clear on that right now — it's really just that the brain is feeling sympathy with their gut. This has yet to grow in evidence until it can come to practice. But just knowing about these kinds of research that's out there at the moment helps me in my daily life. And it makes me think differently of my moods and not externalize so much all the time. I feel oftentimes during the day we are a brain and a screen, and we will tend to look for answers right there and maybe the work is stupid or our neighbor — but really, moods can also come from within. And just knowing this helped me, for example, when I sometimes wake up too early, and I start to worry and wander around with my thoughts. Then I think, "Stop. What did I eat yesterday? Did I stress myself out too much? Did I eat too late or something?" And then maybe get up and make myself a tea, something light to digest. And as simple as that sounds, I think it's been surprisingly good for me. Step three took me further away from our body, and to really understanding bacteria differently. The research we have today is creating a new definition of what real cleanliness is. And it's not the hygiene hypothesis — I think many maybe know this. So it states that when you have too little microbes in your environment because you clean all the time, that's not really a good thing, because people get more allergies or autoimmune diseases then. So I knew this hypothesis, and I thought I wouldn't learn so much from looking at cleanliness in the gut. But I was wrong. It turns out, real cleanliness is not about killing off bacteria right away. Real cleanliness is a bit different. When we look at the facts, 95 percent of all bacteria on this planet don't harm us — they can't, they don't have the genes to do so. Many, actually, help us a lot, and scientists at the moment are looking into things like: Do some bacteria help us clean the gut? Do they help us digest? Do they make us put on weight or have a lean figure although we're eating lots? Are others making us feel more courageous or even more resilient to stress? So you see, there are more questions when it comes to cleanliness. And, actually, the thing is, it's about a healthy balance, I think. You can't avoid the bad all the time. This is simply not possible; there's always something bad around. So what really the whole deal is when you look at a clean gut, it's about having good bacteria, enough of them, and then some bad. Our immune system needs the bad, too, so it knows what it's looking out for. So I started having this different perspective on cleanliness and a few weeks later, I held a talk at my university, and I made a mistake by 1,000. And I went home and I realized in that moment, I was like, "Ah! I made a mistake by 1,000. Oh God, that's so much, and that's so embarrassing." And I started to think about this, I was like, "Ugh!" And after a while I said, "OK, I made this one mistake, but then I also told so many good and right and helpful things, so I think it's OK, you know? It's a clean thing." And then I was like, "Oh, wait. Maybe I took my perspective on cleanliness further." And it's my theory at the moment that maybe we all do. Take it a bit further than just cleaning our living room, where maybe we make it to sort like a life hygiene. Knowing that this is about fostering the good just as much as trying to shelter yourself from the bad had a very calming effect on me. So in that sense, I hope today I told you mostly good and helpful things, and thank you for your time, for listening to me. (Applause) |
The global learning crisis -- and what to do about it | {0: 'Dr. Amel Karboul builds bridges between the private, public sector and civil society to solve today’s global challenges in education.'} | TED@BCG Milan | I'm the product of a bold leadership decision. After 1956, when Tunisia became independent, our first president, Habib Bourguiba, decided to invest 20 percent of the country's national budget in education. Yes, 20 percent, on the high end of the spectrum even by today's standards. Some people protested. What about infrastructure? What about electricity, roads and running water? Are these not important? I would argue that the most important infrastructure we have are minds, educated minds. President Bourguiba helped establish free, high-quality education for every boy and every girl. And together with millions of other Tunisians, I'm deeply indebted to that historic decision. And that's what brought me here today, because today, we are facing a global learning crisis. I call it learning crisis and not education crisis, because on top of the quarter of a billion children who are out of school today, even more, 330 million children, are in school but failing to learn. And if we do nothing, if nothing changes, by 2030, just 13 years from now, half of the world's children and youth, half of 1.6 billion children and youth, will be either out of school or failing to learn. So two years ago, I joined the Education Commission. It's a commission brought together by former UK Prime Minister and UN Special Envoy for Global Education Gordon Brown. Our first task was to find out: How big is the learning crisis? What's actually the scope of the problem? Today we know: half of the world's children by 2030 will be failing to learn. And that's how actually we discovered that we need to change the world's focus from schooling to learning, from just counting how many bodies are in classrooms to actually how many are learning. And the second big task was, can we do anything about this? Can we do anything about this big, vast, silent, maybe most-neglected international crisis? And what we found out is, we can. It's actually amazing. We can, for the first time, have every child in school and learning within just one generation. And we don't even have to really invent the wheel to do so. We just need to learn from the best in class, but not any best in class — the best in your own class. What we did is actually we looked at countries by income level: low-income, mid-income, high-income. We looked at what the 25 percent fastest improvers in education do, and what we found out is that if every country moves at the same rate as the fastest improvers within their own income level, then within just one generation we can have every child in school and learning. Let me give you an example. Let's take Tunisia for example. We're not telling Tunisia, "You should move as fast as Finland." No disrespect, Finland. We're telling Tunisia, "Look at Vietnam." They spend similar amounts for primary and secondary pupils as percentage of GDP per capita, but achieves today higher results. Vietnam introduced a standardized assessment for literacy and numeracy, teachers in Vietnam are better monitored than in other developing countries, and students' achievements are made public. And it shows in the results. In the 2015 PISA — Program for International Student Assessment — Vietnam outperformed many wealthy economies, including the United States. Now, if you're not an education expert, you may ask, "What's new and different? Don't all countries track student progress and make those achievements public?" No. The sad answer is no. We are very far from it. Only half of the developing countries have systematic learning assessment at primary school, and even less so at lower secondary school. So if we don't know if children are learning, how are teachers supposed to focus their attention on delivering results, and how are countries supposed to prioritize education spending actually to delivering results, if they don't know if children are learning? That's why the first big transformation before investing is to make the education system deliver results. Because pouring more money into broken systems may only fund more inefficiencies. And what deeply worries me — if children go to school and don't learn, it devalues education, and it devalues spending on education, so that governments and political parties can say, "Oh, we are spending so much money on education, but children are not learning. They don't have the right skills. Maybe we should spend less." Now, improving current education systems to deliver results is important, but won't be enough. What about countries where we won't have enough qualified teachers? Take Somalia, for example. If every student in Somalia became a teacher — every person who finishes tertiary education became a teacher — we won't have enough teachers. And what about children in refugee camps, or in very remote rural areas? Take Filipe, for example. Filipe lives in one of the thousands of communities alongside the Amazonas rivers. His village of 78 people has 20 families. Filipe and a fellow student were the only two attending grade 11 in 2015. Now, the Amazonas is a state in the northwest of Brazil. It's four and a half times the size of Germany, and it's fully covered in jungle and rivers. A decade ago, Filipe and his fellow student would have had just two alternatives: moving to Manaus, the capital, or stopping studying altogether, which most of them did. In 2009, however, Brazil passed a new law that made secondary education a guarantee for every Brazilian and an obligation for every state to implement this by 2016. But giving access to high-quality education, you know, in the Amazonas state, is huge and expensive. How are you going to get, you know, math and science and history teachers all over those communities? And even if you find them, many of them would not want to move there. So faced with this impossible task, civil servants and state officials developed amazing creativity and entrepreneurship. They developed the media center solution. It works this way. You have specialized, trained content teachers in Manaus delivering classroom via livestream to over a thousand classrooms in those scattered communities. Those classrooms have five to 25 students, and they're supported by a more generalist tutoring teacher for their learning and development. The 60 content teachers in Manaus work with over 2,200 tutoring teachers in those communities to customize lesson plans to the context and time. Now, why is this division between content teacher and tutoring teacher important? First of all, as I told you, because in many countries, we just don't have enough qualified teachers. But secondly also because teachers do too many things they're either not trained for or not supposed to do. Let's look at Chile, for example. In Chile, for every doctor, you have four and a half people, four and a half staff supporting them, and Chile is on the low end of the spectrum here, because in developing countries, on average, every doctor has 10 people supporting them. A teacher in Chile, however, has less than half a person, 0.3 persons, supporting them. Imagine a hospital ward with 20, 40, 70 patients and you have a doctor doing it all by themselves: no nurses, no medical assistants, no one else. You will say this is absurd and impossible, but this is what teachers are doing all over the world every day with classrooms of 20, 40, or 70 students. So this division between content and tutoring teachers is amazing because it is changing the paradigm of the teacher, so that each does what they can do best and so that children are not just in school but in school and learning. And some of these content teachers, they became celebrity teachers. You know, some of them run for office, and they helped raise the status of the profession so that more students wanted to become teachers. And what I love about this example is beyond changing the paradigm of the teacher. It teaches us how we can harness technology for learning. The live-streaming is bidirectional, so students like Filipe and others can present information back. And we know technology is not always perfect. You know, state officials expect between five to 15 percent of the classrooms every day to be off live-stream because of flood, broken antennas or internet not working. And yet, Filipe is one of over 300,000 students that benefited from the media center solution and got access to postprimary education. This is a living example how technology is not just an add-on but can be central to learning and can help us bring school to children if we cannot bring children to school. Now, I hear you. You're going to say, "How are we going to implement this all over the world?" I've been in government myself and have seen how difficult it is even to implement the best ideas. So as a commission, we started two initiatives to make the "Learning Generation" a reality. The first one is called the Pioneer Country Initiative. Over 20 countries from Africa and Asia have committed to make education their priority and to transform their education systems to deliver results. We've trained country leaders in a methodology called the delivery approach. What this does is basically two things. In the planning phase, we take everyone into a room — teachers, teacher unions, parent associations, government officials, NGOs, everyone — so that the reform and the solution we come up with are shared by everyone and supported by everyone. And in the second phase, it does something special. It's kind of a ruthless focus on follow-up. So week by week you check, has that been done, what was supposed to be done, and even sometimes sending a person physically to the district or school to check that versus just hoping that it happened. It may sound for many common sense, but it's not common practice, and that's why actually many reforms fail. It has been piloted in Tanzania, and there the pass rate for students in secondary education was increased by 50 percent in just over two years. Now, the next initiative to make the Learning Generation a reality is financing. Who's going to pay for this? So we believe and argue that domestic financing has to be the backbone of education investment. Do you remember when I told you about Vietnam earlier outperforming the United States in PISA? That's due to a better education system, but also to Vietnam increasing their investment from seven to 20 percent of their national budget in two decades. But what happens if countries want to borrow money for education? If you wanted to borrow money to build a bridge or a road, it's quite easy and straightforward, but not for education. It's easier to make a shiny picture of a bridge and show it to everyone than one of an educated mind. That's kind of a longer term commitment. So we came up with a solution to help countries escape the middle income trap, countries that are not poor enough or not poor, thankfully, anymore, that cannot profit from grants or interest-free loans, and they're not rich enough to be able to have attractive interests on their loans. So we're pooling donor money in a finance facility for education, which will provide more finance for education. We will subsidize, or even eliminate completely, interest payments on the loans so that countries that commit to reforms can borrow money, reform their education system, and pay this money over time while benefiting from a better-educated population. This solution has been recognized in the last G20 meeting in Germany, and so finally today education is on the international agenda. But let me bring this back to the personal level, because this is where the impact lands. Without that decision to invest a young country's budget, 20 percent of a young country's budget in education, I would have never been able to go to school, let alone in 2014 becoming a minister in the government that successfully ended the transition phase. Tunisia's Nobel Peace Prize in 2015 as the only democracy that emerged from the Arab Spring is a legacy to that bold leadership decision. Education is the civil rights struggle, it's the human rights struggle of our generation. Quality education for all: that's the freedom fight that we've got to win. Thank you. (Applause) |
How we can end sexual harassment at work | {0: "Gretchen Carlson is a tireless advocate for workplace equality and women's empowerment."} | TEDWomen 2017 | "All I wanted was a much-deserved promotion, and he told me to 'Get up on the desk and spread 'em.'" "All the men in my office wrote down on a piece of paper the sexual favors that I could do for them. All I had asked for was an office with a window." "I asked for his advice about how I could get a bill out of committee; he asked me if I brought my kneepads." Those are just a few of the horrific stories that I heard from women over the last year, as I've been investigating workplace sexual harassment. And what I found out is that it's an epidemic across the world. It's a horrifying reality for millions of women, when all they want to do every day is go to work. Sexual harassment doesn't discriminate. You can wear a skirt, hospital scrubs, army fatigues. You can be young or old, married or single, black or white. You can be a Republican, a Democrat or an Independent. I heard from so many women: police officers, members of our military, financial assistants, actors, engineers, lawyers, bankers, accountants, teachers ... journalists. Sexual harassment, it turns out, is not about sex. It's about power, and about what somebody does to you to try and take away your power. And I'm here today to encourage you to know that you can take that power back. (Applause) On July 6, 2016, I jumped off a cliff all by myself. It was the scariest moment of my life; an excruciating choice to make. I fell into an abyss all alone, not knowing what would be below. But then, something miraculous started to happen. Thousands of women started reaching out to me to share their own stories of pain and agony and shame. They told me that I became their voice — they were voiceless. And suddenly, I realized that even in the 21st century, every woman still has a story. Like Joyce, a flight attendant supervisor whose boss, in meetings every day, would tell her about the porn that he'd watched the night before while drawing penises on his notepad. She went to complain. She was called "crazy" and fired. Like Joanne, Wall Street banker. Her male colleagues would call her that vile c-word every day. She complained — labeled a troublemaker, never to do another Wall Street deal again. Like Elizabeth, an army officer. Her male subordinates would wave one-dollar bills in her face, and say, "Dance for me!" And when she went to complain to a major, he said, "What? Only one dollar? You're worth at least five or ten!" After reading, replying to all and crying over all of these emails, I realized I had so much work to do. Here are the startling facts: one in three women — that we know of — have been sexually harassed in the workplace. Seventy-one percent of those incidences never get reported. Why? Because when women come forward, they're still called liars and troublemakers and demeaned and trashed and demoted and blacklisted and fired. Reporting sexual harassment can be, in many cases, career-ending. Of all the women that reached out to me, almost none are still today working in their chosen profession, and that is outrageous. I, too, was silent in the beginning. It happened to me at the end of my year as Miss America, when I was meeting with a very high-ranking TV executive in New York City. I thought he was helping me throughout the day, making a lot of phone calls. We went to dinner, and in the back seat of a car, he suddenly lunged on top of me and stuck his tongue down my throat. I didn't realize that to "get into the business" — silly me — he also intended to get into my pants. And just a week later, when I was in Los Angeles meeting with a high-ranking publicist, it happened again. Again, in a car. And he took my neck in his hand, and he shoved my head so hard into his crotch, I couldn't breathe. These are the events that suck the life out of all of your self-confidence. These are the events that, until recently, I didn't even call assault. And this is why we have so much work to do. After my year as Miss America, I continued to meet a lot of well-known people, including Donald Trump. When this picture was taken in 1988, nobody could have ever predicted where we'd be today. (Laughter) Me, fighting to end sexual harassment in the workplace; he, president of the United States in spite of it. And shortly thereafter, I got my first gig in television news in Richmond, Virginia. Check out that confident smile with the bright pink jacket. Not so much the hair. (Laughter) I was working so hard to prove that blondes have a lot of brains. But ironically, one of the first stories I covered was the Anita Hill hearings in Washington, DC. And shortly thereafter, I, too, was sexually harassed in the workplace. I was covering a story in rural Virginia, and when we got back into the car, my cameraman started saying to me, wondering how much I had enjoyed when he touched my breasts when he put the microphone on me. And it went downhill from there. I was bracing myself against the passenger door — this was before cellphones. I was petrified. I actually envisioned myself rolling outside of that door as the car was going 50 miles per hour like I'd seen in the movies, and wondering how much it would hurt. When the story about Harvey Weinstein came to light — one the most well-known movie moguls in all of Hollywood — the allegations were horrific. But so many women came forward, and it made me realize what I had done meant something. (Applause) He had such a lame excuse. He said he was a product of the '60s and '70s, and that that was the culture then. Yeah, that was the culture then, and unfortunately, it still is. Why? Because of all the myths that are still associated with sexual harassment. "Women should just take another job and find another career." Yeah, right. Tell that to the single mom working two jobs, trying to make ends meet, who's also being sexually harassed. "Women — they bring it on themselves." By the clothes that we wear and the makeup that we put on. Yeah, I guess those hoodies that Uber engineers wear in Silicon Valley are just so provocative. "Women make it up." Yeah, because it's so fun and rewarding to be demeaned and taken down. I would know. "Women bring these claims because they want to be famous and rich." Our own president said that. I bet Taylor Swift, one of the most well-known and richest singers in the world, didn't need more money or fame when she came forward with her groping case for one dollar. And I'm so glad she did. Breaking news: the untold story about women and sexual harassment in the workplace: women just want a safe, welcoming and harass-free environment. That's it. (Applause) So how do we go about getting our power back? I have three solutions. Number one: we need to turn bystanders and enablers into allies. Ninety-eight percent of United States corporations right now have sexual harassment training policies. Seventy percent have prevention programs. But still, overwhelmingly, bystanders and witnesses don't come forward. In 2016, the Harvard Business Review called it the "bystander effect." And yet — remember 9/11. Millions of times we've heard, "If you see something, say something." Imagine how impactful that would be if we carried that through to bystanders in the workplace regarding sexual harassment — to recognize and interrupt these incidences; to confront the perpetrators to their face; to help and protect the victims. This is my shout-out to men: we need you in this fight. And to women, too — enablers to allies. Number two: change the laws. How many of you out there know whether or not you have a forced arbitration clause in your employment contract? Not a lot of hands. And if you don't know, you should, and here's why. TIME Magazine calls it, right there on the screen, "The teeny tiny little print in contracts that keeps sexual harassment claims unheard." Here's what it is. Forced arbitration takes away your Seventh Amendment right to an open jury process. It's secret. You don't get the same witnesses or depositions. In many cases, the company picks the arbitrator for you. There are no appeals, and only 20 percent of the time does the employee win. But again, it's secret, so nobody ever knows what happened to you. This is why I've been working so diligently on Capitol Hill in Washington, DC to change the laws. And here's what I tell the Senators: sexual harassment is apolitical. Before somebody harasses you, they don't ask you if you're a Republican or Democrat first. They just do it. And this is why we should all care. Number three: be fierce. It starts when we stand tall, and we build that self-confidence. And we stand up and we speak up, and we tell the world what happened to us. I know it's scary, but let's do it for our kids. Let's stop this for the next generations. I know that I did it for my children. They were paramount in my decision-making about whether or not I would come forward. My beautiful children, my 12-year-old son, Christian, my 14-year-old daughter, Kaia. And boy, did I underestimate them. The first day of school last year happened to be the day my resolution was announced, and I was so anxious about what they would face. My daughter came home from school and she said, "Mommy, so many people asked me what happened to you over the summer." Then she looked at me in the eyes and she said, "And mommy, I was so proud to say that you were my mom." And two weeks later, when she finally found the courage to stand up to two kids who had been making her life miserable, she came home to me and she said, "Mommy, I found the courage to do it because I saw you do it." (Applause) You see, giving the gift of courage is contagious. And I hope that my journey has inspired you, because right now, it's the tipping point. We are watching history happen. More and more women are coming forward and saying, "Enough is enough." (Applause) Here's my one last plea to companies. Let's hire back all those women whose careers were lost because of some random jerk. Because here's what I know about women: we will not longer be underestimated, intimidated or set back; we will not be silenced by the ways of the establishment or the relics of the past. No. We will stand up and speak up and have our voices heard. We will be the women we were meant to be. And above all, we will always be fierce. Thank you. (Applause) |
For the love of birds | {0: 'Birder and ecologist Washington Wachira started the Youth Conservation Awareness Programme to nurture young environmental enthusiasts in Kenya.'} | TEDGlobal 2017 | With me here today I brought something beautiful. This is a feather from one of the most beautiful birds we have in Kenya, the crested guinea fowl. But this feather is more than just that. If you've taken time when you are outdoors to look at the feathers around you, you'll have noticed that there is this huge variety of different sizes, shapes and even colors. The feather is one of the most astonishing pieces of technology invented by the natural world, and for centuries, this feather has helped birds to keep dry, to keep warm and even power flight. Only one section of the tree of life can actually make a feather. Among all the world's animals, birds are the only ones who can make something like what I'm holding today. I personally have given them a nickname, and I like to call them the feathermakers. It is the major difference between birds and any other animals we have on earth, and if you can't make a feather, you cannot call yourself a bird. (Laughter) For us humans, who are earthbound, birds represent freedom. This feather has enabled birds to conquer gravity and take to the air in an extraordinary way. Don't you sometimes wish you could fly like a bird? Birds are my passion, and I want to change the way each one of you thinks about them. The easiest reason I love them so much is because they are beautiful. There are 10,000 species in the world, and each one of them is uniquely beautiful. Birds are amazing, and this talk is dedicated to all the birds of the world. (Laughter) (Applause) Indeed, these birds have been part of our lives and cultures all over the world for centuries, and every society has a story about birds. You probably have heard childhood stories of different birds and how they relate with man. I personally recently learned that our human ancestors would follow flocks of vultures and then they would help them to identify where carcasses have been dropped by large carnivores, and these humans will scavenge and eat part of that meat. Birds have been used as brands and labels all over the world. You know the bald eagle? It was chosen as the national emblem for the US because of its majestic strength, beautiful looks and even a long lifespan. And just like us humans who have managed to live in virtually all habitats of this earth, birds have also conquered the world. From birds such as these beautiful penguins that live in the cold ice caps to even others like the larks, who live in the hottest deserts you can imagine. Indeed, these species have conquered this world. Birds also build houses like us. The real pros in housebuilding are a group of birds we call the weaverbirds, and this name they were given because of the way in which they weave their nests. An interesting one: birds also love and date just like us humans. In fact, you'll be surprised to know that males dress to impress the women, and I'll show you how. So here we have a long-tailed widowbird, and this is how they would normally look. But when it comes to the breeding season, everything changes, and this is how he looks. (Audience murmurs) Yeah? Birds also, multiple species of them, do love to touch and cuddle just like humans. And I know you're wondering about this one. Yes, they kiss too, sometimes very deeply. (Applause) Some have even learned to cheat on their spouses. (Laughter) For example, the African jacana: the females will mate with multiple males and then she takes off to find other males to mate with and she leaves the male behind to take care of the chicks. (Laughter) (Applause) And birds help us so much, and they play very crucial roles in our ecosystems each day. Vultures clean up our environment by literally digesting disease-causing pathogens, and they finish carcasses that would otherwise cost us lots of money to clear from the environment. A sizable flock of vultures is capable of bringing down a carcass the size of a zebra straight to the bone within just about 30 minutes. Owls help to rid the environments of rodents and this helps us a lot because it saves us money — we don't lose our crops — and secondly, we don't have to buy harmful chemicals to handle these rodents. The beautiful sunbirds we see in our environments are part of nature's pollination crew, and they help our plants to form fruits. Together with other pollinators like insects, they have actually helped us to get most of the food crops that we depend on for many years. Unfortunately, the story of birds is by far not perfect. They are faced by numerous challenges every day wherever they live. Top on the threats facing birds is habitat loss and reduced food availability. Birds are also hunted, especially migratory species and ducks that congregate in water bodies. Poisoning is happening to flocks that like to stick together, especially in places like rice schemes. Moreover, power lines are electrocuting birds and wind farms are slicing birds when they fly through the blades. Recently, we've heard the talk of climate change making a lot of headlines, and it's also affecting birds, because birds are being forced to migrate to better breeding and feeding grounds because unfortunately where they used to live is no longer habitable. My own perspective towards birds was changed when I was a small boy in high school, and there was this boy who struck, injuring the wing and the leg of a bird we called the augur buzzard. I was standing there, just a mere 14-year-old, and I imagined a human being in a similar situation, because this bird could not help itself. So even if I was hardly any biologist by then, I gathered with three of my friends and we decided to house the bird until it had regained strength and then let it free. Interestingly, it accepted to feed on beef from our school kitchen, and we hunted termites around the compound for its dinner every day. After a few days, it had regained strength and we released it. We were so happy to see it flap its wings and fly off gracefully. And that experience changed the way we looked at birds. We went on to actually make a magazine, and we called it the Hawk Magazine, and this was in honor of this bird that we had helped within our own high school. Those experiences in high school made me the conservationist I am today. And a passion for birds should especially matter for Africa and all Africans, because among all other continents, Africa hosts some of the most amazing bird species you can find anywhere in the world. Imagine having a name like "shoebill." That's the name of that bird. And there are countries like DR Congo, Tanzania, Uganda and Kenya who are leading the continent in highest numbers of diversity when it comes to the species. These birds continue to provide the continent with very crucial ecosystem services that Africa needs. Moreover, there is huge potential for Africa to lead the world in avian tourism. The economy will definitely benefit. Imagine how many communities will benefit from groups of tourists visiting their villages just to see the endemic birds that can only be found in those villages. How can we help birds together? There is now a chance for all of you to turn your passion for birds into contributing to their continued survival, and you can do that by becoming a citizen scientist. Citizen science is a growing trend around the world, and we are having scenarios where people are sharing information with the rest of the community about traffic updates, security alerts and so on. That is exactly what we realized as bird-watchers, and we thought, because birds are found everywhere, if we've got all of you and everyone else in Africa to tell us the birds they find where they live, where they school, or even where they work, then we can be able to come up with a map of every single species, and from there scientists will be able to actually prioritize conservation efforts to those habitats that matter the most. Take for example these two projects, the Africa Raptor DataBank, which is mapping all birds of prey in the continent of Africa, and the Kenya Bird Map, which is mapping about 1,100 species that occur in my country, Kenya. These two projects now have online databases that are allowing people to submit data, and this is converted into very interactive websites that the public can consume and make decisions from. But when we started, there was a big challenge. We received many complaints from bird-watchers, and they will say, "I'm in a village, and I cannot access a computer. How do I tell you what birds live in my home, or where I school, or where I work?" So we were forced to renovate our strategy and come up with a sustainable solution. It was easy: we immediately realized that mobile phones were becoming increasingly common in Africa and most of the regions could get access to one. So we came up with mobile phone applications that you can use on your iPhone and on your Android phone, and we made them freely available for every bird-watching enthusiast out there. So we came up with BirdLasser, which is used by the Kenya Bird Map, and also we have the African Raptor Observations, which is now used by the African Raptor DataBank. This was a huge breakthrough in our work and it made us get enormous amounts of data from every birder out there in the regions. With this, we realized that citizen science is indeed very powerful, the reason being, citizen science is adaptive. And we were able to actually convert many bird-watchers to start sharing new information with us. When we were starting, we didn't know that birds could be a huge gateway to approaching conservation of other forms of animals. Interestingly, now in the Virtual Museum for Africa, we have maps for dragonflies and damselflies, butterflies and moths, reptiles, frogs, orchids, spiders, scorpions, and yes, we are even mapping mushrooms. Who could have imagined mapping mushrooms? So this showed us that indeed we've created a community of people who care about nature in Africa. I hereby call upon all of you to join me in promoting the value of birds within your communities. Please just tell your friends about birds, for we are always inclined to love and care for that which we know. Please spend a few minutes in your free time when you are at work, at school, or maybe at home, to at least look around you and see which beautiful birds are there. Come join us in citizen science and tell us the birds you're finding in the places where you visit. Even simpler, you could buy your child or your sibling a pair of binoculars or a bird book and let them just appreciate how beautiful these birds are. Because maybe one day they will want to care for that one which they know and love. The children indeed are our future. Let us please teach them to love our feathermakers, because the love of birds can be a huge gateway to appreciating all forms of nature. Thank you very much. (Applause) Thank you. |
Why women stay silent after sexual assault | {0: 'Inés Hercovich is a pioneer in the study of sexual violence against women.'} | TEDxRiodelaPlata | There are about 5,000 women here today. Among us, 1,250 have been or will be sexually assaulted at some point in our lives. One in four. Only 10 percent will report it. The other 90 percent take refuge in silence — half of them, because the incident involves a close family member or someone they know, and that makes it much more difficult to deal with and talk about. The other half don't talk about it because they fear they won’t be believed. And they're right — because we don't. Today I want to share with you why I think we don't believe them. We don't believe them because when a woman tells what happened to her, she tells us things we can't imagine, things that disturb us, things we don't expect to hear, things that shock us. We expect to hear stories like this one: "Girl raped near the Mitre Railroad tracks. It happened at midnight as she was on her way home. She said that someone attacked her from behind, told her not to scream, said he had a gun and that she shouldn't move. He raped her and then fled the scene." When we hear or read a story like this, we immediately visualize it: the rapist, a depraved lower-class man. And the victim, a young, attractive woman. The image only lasts 10 or 20 seconds, and it's dark and two-dimensional; there's no movement, no sound; it's as if there were no people involved. But when a woman tells her story, it doesn't fit in 10 or 20 seconds. The following is the testimony of a woman I'll call "Ana." She's one of the 85 women I interviewed while conducting research on sexual assault. Ana told me: "I had gone with the girls in the office to the same pub we always go to. We met some guys, and I hooked up with this super cool guy; we talked a lot. Around 4am, I told my friends it was time to go. They wanted to stay. So, the guy asked me where I lived and said if it was OK with me, he'd drive me home. I agreed, and we left. At a stoplight, he told me he liked me and touched my leg. I don't like a guy to approach me that way, but he had been affectionate all night. I thought, 'I shouldn't be so paranoid. What if I say something but he didn't mean anything by it, and I offend him?' When he should have made a turn, he kept going straight. I thought he had made a mistake, and I said, 'You should have turned there.' But something felt off. Thinking back, I wonder, 'Why didn't I pay attention to what I was feeling?' When he pulled over near the highway, that's when I got scared. But he told me to relax, that he liked me, and that nothing would happen unless I wanted it to. He was nice. I didn't say anything, because I was afraid he would get angry, and that things would get worse. I thought he might have a gun in the glove compartment. Suddenly, he jumped on me and tried to kiss me. I said no. I wanted to push him away, but he was holding my arms down. When I wriggled free, I tried to open the door, but it was locked. And even if I had gotten out, where would I have gone? I told him he wasn't the kind of guy who needed to do that to be with a girl, and that I liked him, too, but not in that way. I tried to calm him down. I said nice things about him. I talked to him as if I were his older sister. Suddenly, he covered my mouth with one hand and with the other hand he unbuckled his belt. I thought right then he would kill me, strangle me, you know? I never felt so alone, like I had been kidnapped. I asked him to finish quickly and then take me home." How did you feel listening to this story? Surely, several questions arose. For example: Why didn't she roll down the window and call for help? Why didn't she get out of the car when she felt something bad might happen? How could she ask him to take her home? Now, when we hear this kind of story not on the news or from someone like me, presenting it on a stage like this — when we're hearing it from someone we know who chose to entrust us with the story of what happened to them, we'll have to listen. And we'll hear things we won't be able to understand — or accept. And then doubts, questions and suspicion will creep in. And that is going to make us feel really bad and guilty. So to protect ourselves from the discomfort, we have an option. We turn up the volume on all the parts of the story that we expected to hear: a gun in the glove compartment, the locked doors, the isolated location. And we turn down the volume on all the parts of the story that we didn't expect to hear and that we don't want to hear; like when she tells him that she liked him, too, or when she tells us she spoke to him as if she were his older sister, or that she asked him to take her home. Why do we do this? It's so we can believe her; so we can feel confident that she really was a victim. I call this "victimization of the victim." "Victimization," because in order to believe she's innocent, that she's a victim, we need to think of her as helpless, paralyzed, mute. But there's another way to avoid the discomfort. And it's exactly the opposite: we turn up the volume on the things we didn't expect to hear, such as "I spoke nicely to him," "I asked him to take me home," "I asked him to finish quickly," and we turn down the volume on the things we did expect to hear: the gun in the glove compartment, the isolation. Why do we do this? We do it so we can cling to the doubts and feel more comfortable about them. Then, new questions arise, for instance: Who told her go to those clubs? You saw how she and her friends were dressed, right? Those miniskirts, those necklines? What do you expect? Questions that aren't really questions, but rather, judgments — judgments that end in a verdict: she asked for it. That finding would be verified by the fact that she didn't mention having struggled to avoid being raped. So that means she didn't resist. It means she consented. If she asked for it and allowed it, how are we calling it rape? I call this "blaming the victim." These arguments that serve us both to blame and to victimize, we all have them in our heads, at hand — including victims and perpetrators. So much so, that when Ana came to me, she told me she didn't know if her testimony was going to be of any use, because she wasn't sure if what happened to her qualified as rape. Ana believed, like most of us, that rape is more like armed robbery — a violent act that lasts 4 or 5 minutes — and not smooth talking from a nice guy that lasts all night and ends in a kidnapping. When she felt afraid she might be killed, she was afraid to be left with scars, and she had to give her body to avoid it. That's when she knew that rape was something different. Ana had never talked about this with anyone. She could have turned to her family, but she didn't. She didn't because she was afraid. She was afraid the person she'd choose to tell her story to would have the same reaction as the rest of us: they'd have doubts, suspicions; those same questions we always have when it comes to things like this. And if that had happened, it would have been worse, perhaps, than the rape itself. She could have talked to a friend or a sister. And with her partner, it would have been extremely difficult: the slightest hint of doubt on his face or in his voice would have been devastating for her and would have probably meant the end of their relationship. Ana keeps silent because deep down she knows that nobody — none of us, not her family or therapists, let alone the police or judges — are willing to hear what Ana actually did in that moment. First and foremost, Ana said, "No." When she saw that her "no" didn't help, she spoke nicely to him. She tried not to exacerbate his violence or give him ideas. She talked to him as if everything that was happening were normal, so he wouldn't be thinking that she would turn him in later. Now, I wonder and I ask all of you: All those things she did — isn't that considered resisting? No. For all or at least most of us, it's not, probably because it's not "resisting" in the eyes of the law. In most countries, the laws still require that the victim prove her innocence — that's right: the victim needs to prove her innocence — by showing marks on her body as evidence that she engaged in a vigorous and continuous fight with her aggressor. I can assure you, in most court cases, no amount of marks is ever enough. I listened to many women's stories. And I didn't hear any of them talking about themselves as if they had been reduced to a thing, totally subjected to the will of the other. Rather, they sounded astonished and even a little proud looking back and thinking how clear-headed they had been at the time, of how much attention they paid to every detail, as if that would allow them to exert some control over what was happening. Then I realized, of course — what women are doing in these situations is negotiating. They're trading sex for life. They ask the aggressor to finish quickly, so everything is over as soon as possible and at the lowest cost. They subject themselves to penetration, because believe it or not, penetration is what keeps them furthest from a sexual or emotional scenario. They subject themselves to penetration, because penetration is less painful than kisses, caresses and gentle words. Now, if we continue to expect rape to be what it very rarely is — with the rapist as a depraved lower-class man and not a university student or a businessman who goes out chasing after girls on a Friday or Saturday; if we keep expecting the victims to be demure women who faint on the scene, and not self-confident women — we will continue to be unable to listen. Women will continue to be unable to speak. And we will all continue to be responsible for that silence and their solitude. (Applause) |
Why wildfires have gotten worse -- and what we can do about it | {0: 'Paul Hessburg studies very large forest landscapes and what makes them tick. '} | TEDxBend | As you've probably noticed, in recent years, a lot of western forests have burned in large and destructive wildfires. If you're like me — this western landscape is actually why my family and I live here. And as a scientist and a father, I've become deeply concerned about what we're leaving behind for our kids, and now my five grandkids. In the US, an area that's larger than the state of Oregon has burned in just the last 10 years, and tens of thousands of homes have been destroyed. Acres burned and homes destroyed have steadily increased over the last three decades, and individual fires that are bigger than 100,000 acres — they're actually on the rise. These are what we call "megafires." Megafires are the result of the way we've managed this western landscape over the last 150 years in a steadily warming climate. Much of the destruction that we are currently seeing could actually have been avoided. I've spent my entire career studying these western landscapes, and the science is pretty clear: if we don't change a few of our fire-management habits, we're going to lose many more of our beloved forests. Some won't recover in our lifetime or my kids' lifetime. It's time we confront some tough truths about wildfires, and come to understand that we need to learn to better live with them and change how they come to our forests, our homes and our communities. So why is this happening? Well, that's what I want to talk to you about today. You see this forest? Isn't it beautiful? Well, the forests that we see today look nothing like the forests of 100 or 150 years ago. Thankfully, panoramic photos were taken in the 1930s from thousands of western mountaintop lookouts, and they show a fair approximation of the forest that we inherited. The best word to describe these forests of old is "patchy." The historical forest landscape was this constantly evolving patchwork of open and closed canopy forests of all ages, and there was so much evidence of fire. And most fires were pretty small by today's standards. And it's important to understand that this landscape was open, with meadows and open canopy forests, and it was the grasses of the meadows and in the grassy understories of the open forest that many of the wildfires were carried. There were other forces at work, too, shaping this historical patchwork: for example, topography, whether a place faces north or south or it's on a ridge top or in a valley bottom; elevation, how far up the mountain it is; and weather, whether a place gets a lot of snow and rain, sunlight and warmth. These things all worked together to shape the way the forest grew. And the way the forest grew shaped the way fire behaved on the landscape. There was crosstalk between the patterns and the processes. You can see the new dry forest. Trees were open grown and fairly far apart. Fires were frequent here, and when they occurred, they weren't that severe, while further up the mountain, in the moist and the cold forests, trees were more densely grown and fires were less frequent, but when they occurred, they were quite a bit more severe. These different forest types, the environments that they grew in and fire severity — they all worked together to shape this historical patchwork. And there was so much power in this patchwork. It provided a natural mechanism to resist the spread of future fires across the landscape. Once a patch of forest burned, it helped to prevent the flow of fire across the landscape. A way to think about it is, the burned patches helped the rest of the forest to be forest. Let's add humans to the mix. For 10,000 years, Native Americans lived on this landscape, and they intentionally burned it — a lot. They used fire to burn meadows and to thin certain forests so they could grow more food. They used fire to increase graze for the deer and the elk and the bison that they hunted. And most importantly, they figured out if they burned in the spring and the fall, they could avoid the out-of-control fires of summer. European settlement — it occurred much later, in the mid-1800s, and by the 1880s, livestock grazing was in high gear. I mean, if you think about it, the cattle and the sheep ate the grasses which had been the conveyer belt for the historical fires, and this prevented once-frequent fires from thinning out trees and burning up dead wood. Later came roads and railroads, and they acted as potent firebreaks, interrupting further the flow of fire across this landscape. And then something happened which caused a sudden pivot in our society. In 1910, we had a huge wildfire. It was the size of the state of Connecticut. We called it "the Big Burn." It stretched from eastern Washington to western Montana, and it burned, in a few days, three million acres, devoured several towns, and it killed 87 people. Most of them were firefighters. Because of the Big Burn, wildfire became public enemy number one, and this would shape the way that we would think about wildfire in our society for the next hundred years. Thereafter, the Forest Service, just five years young at the time, was tasked with the responsibility of putting out all wildfires on 193 million acres of public lands, and they took this responsibility very seriously. They developed this unequaled ability to put fires out, and they put out 95 to 98 percent of all fires every single year in the US. And from this point on, it was now fire suppression and not wildfires that would become a prime shaper of our forests. After World War II, timber harvesting got going in the west, and the logging removed the large and the old trees. These were survivors of centuries of wildfires. And the forest filled in. Thin-barked, fire-sensitive small trees filled in the gaps, and our forests became dense, with trees so layered and close together that they were touching each other. So fires were unintentionally blocked by roads and railroads, the cattle and sheep ate the grass, then along comes fire suppression and logging, removing the big trees, and you know what happened? All these factors worked together to allow the forest to fill in, creating what I call the current epidemic of trees. (Laughter) Go figure. (Laughter) More trees than the landscape can support. So when you compare what forests looked like 100 years ago and today, the change is actually remarkable. Notice how the patchwork has filled in. Dry south slopes — they're now covered with trees. A patchwork that was once sculptured by mostly small and sort of medium-sized fires has filled in. Do you see the blanket of trees? After just 150 years, we have a dense carpet of forest. But there's more. Because trees are growing so close together, and because tree species, tree sizes and ages are so similar across large areas, fires not only move easily from acre to acre, but now, so do diseases and insect outbreaks, which are killing or reducing the vitality of really large sections of forest now. And after a century without fire, dead branches and downed trees on the forest floor, they're at powder-keg levels. What's more, our summers are getting hotter and they're getting drier and they're getting windier. And the fire season is now 40 to 80 days longer each year. Because of this, climatologists are predicting that the area burned since 2000 will double or triple in the next three decades. And we're building houses in the middle of this. Two recently published studies tell us that more than 60 percent of all new housing starts are being built in this flammable and dangerous mess. So when we do get a fire, large areas can literally go up in smoke. How do you feel now about the forest image that I first showed you? It scares the heck out of me. So what do we do? We need to restore the power of the patchwork. We need to put the right kind of fire back into the system again. It's how we can resize the severity of many of our future fires. And the silver lining is that we have tools and we have know-how to do this. Let's look at some of the tools. We can use prescribed burning to intentionally thin out trees and burn up dead fuels. We do this to systematically reduce them and keep them reduced. And what is that going to do? It's going to create already-burned patches on the landscape that will resist the flow of future fires. We can combine mechanical thinning with some of these treatments where it's appropriate to do so, and capture some commercial value and perhaps underwrite some of these treatments, especially around urban areas. And the best news of all is that prescribed burning produces so much less smoke than wildfires do. It's not even close. But there's a hitch: prescribed burning smoke is currently regulated under air quality rules as an avoidable nuisance. But wildfire smoke? It simply gets a pass. Makes sense, doesn't it? (Laughs) So you know what happens? We do far too little prescribed burning, and we continually eat smoke in the summers from megafires. We all need to work together to get this changed. And finally, there's managed wildfires. Instead of putting all the fires out, we need to put some of them back to work thinning forests and reducing dead fuels. We can herd them around the landscape when it's appropriate to do so to help restore the power of the patchwork. And as you've probably figured out by now, this is actually a social problem. It's got ecological and climate explanations, but it's a social problem, and it will take us humans to solve it. Public support for these tools is poor. Prescribed burning and managed wildfires are not well-supported. We actually all simply want fires to magically go away and take that pesky smoke with them, don't we? But there is no future without lots of fire and lots of smoke. That option is actually not on the table. Until we, the owners of public lands, make it our high priority to do something about the current situation, we're going to experience continued losses to megafires. So it's up to us. We can spread this message to our lawmakers, folks who can help us manage our fires and our forests. If we're unsuccessful, where will you go to play when your favorite places are burned black? Where will you go to breathe deep and slow? Thank you. (Applause) |
This is what it's really like to live with ADHD | {0: 'Jessica is the author of popular YouTube series How to ADHD focused on educating and supporting ADHD brains around the world.'} | TEDxBratislava | Hello, brains! I say that to you because, if you think about it, it wasn't really you that decided to come here today. It was your brain. And whether you decided to walk, or drive, take a taxi, or ride a bike, that decision was made by your brain. Behavior, all behavior, is affected by the brain. This is a story about my brain. So, I was a smart kid. By 18 months, I was speaking in full sentences. By third grade, I was scoring post-high school on standardized tests. I had, as all my teachers agreed, so much potential. I was also struggling. I didn't have many, any, friends outside of books. I was easily overwhelmed. I spaced out in class. I lost things constantly. And trying to get my brain to focus on anything I wasn't excited about was like trying to nail jello to the wall. But I was smart, so nobody was worried. It wasn't until middle school, when I was responsible for getting myself to classes on time and remembering to bring my own homework, that being smart wasn't enough anymore, and my grades started to suffer. My mom took me to the doctor and, after a comprehensive evaluation, I was diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, ADHD. If you're not familiar with ADHD, it has three primary characteristics: inattention, impulsivity, and hyperactivity. Some people with ADHD have more of the inattentive presentation. Those are the daydreamers, the space cadets. Some have more of the hyperactive-impulsive presentation. Those are the kids that usually get diagnosed early. (Laughter) But the most common presentation is a combination of both. (Laughter) My doctor and my parents decided that, given my shiny, new diagnosis, maybe stimulant medication would succeed where spankings and lectures had failed. So I tried it, and it worked. The first time I took my medication, it was like putting on glasses and realizing I could see without squinting. I could focus. And without changing anything, my GPA went up a full point. Honestly, it was kind of miraculous. By 14, I had friends that liked me. By 15, I had published my first poem. I got a boyfriend. By 17, I knew I wanted to be a journalist. My local college had a program that would guarantee admission to USC. They had a really great journalism program. So, I signed up at my local college and I started taking classes. I moved in with my boyfriend. Things were going great, until they weren't. I started having trouble making it to class on time. I aced a statistics course, but I forgot to sign up in time, so I never got the credit. I took classes so I could help my boyfriend with his career, but I completely lost sight of mine. I never made it to USC. By 21, I dropped out of college and moved back home. Over the next ten years, I started and quit, or was fired from, 15 jobs. I ruined my credit. I got married, and was divorced within a year. At this point, I was 32, and I had no idea what I was doing with my life, besides reading self-help books that didn't seem to be helping. What happened to all that potential? Was I not trying? No! I worked harder than anyone I knew. I didn't even have time for friends. I was that busy. I had potential, though. So, my failure was clearly my fault. I just hadn't done what I need to do to reach it, and, honestly, I was tired of trying, putting more effort into life than everyone else and falling farther and farther behind. At this point, I could have given up on myself, I could have decided that everyone who'd thought I had potential was wrong. But I didn't, because I knew that it was my behavior that had gotten me here, and behavior is affected by the brain, and my brain has ADHD. Looking at my behavior, I knew: even with medication, even as an adult, my ADHD was still interfering with my life, and what I needed to know was how and why, and, more importantly, what could I do about it. I started to do some research, and I found a lot of great information. I found a lot of bad information too, but that's another talk. But there's good information out there. Websites, podcasts, talks, by researchers and medical professionals; books that would have been way more helpful than the self-help books I'd been using that were clearly written for normal - well, there's no normal - neurotypical brains. A lot of what I found, though, was either super technical or seemed like it was written for parents and teachers trying to deal with ADHD kids. There wasn't a lot that seemed intended for us, the people who have ADHD. So, I started a YouTube channel. I had no idea how to start a YouTube channel, but I started a YouTube channel. I almost called it "How Not To ADHD," because that was about all I knew at the time. But my boyfriend, Edward, talked me out of it. It turns out lots of people need help understanding ADHD, including, maybe especially, those who actually have it. I was no exception. I thought ADHD was kind of the same for everybody. I thought it was mostly about getting distracted. I thought having ADHD was maybe the reason that I was failing at life. And I thought I was what needed to change, in order to be successful. I couldn't be successful and still be me. Spoilers: I was wrong. So, let's go back for a second, let's go back to what brought us here today: the brain. Understanding the brain you're working with, it turns out, is kind of important, and that's true whether that brain is your employee's, your student's, your kid's, your significant other's, or your own. ADHD affects between 5 and 8% of the global population, which means, statistically speaking, there's between 37 and 60 of us just in this room. You can't tell who we are just by looking, but it's fun to watch you try. (Laughter) So, at some point, you're going to meet someone with ADHD, work with them, give birth to them, or fall in love with them. Chances are you already have. And, at some point, you're going to ask yourself, "What is going on in their brain?!" So, after two years of learning about ADHD and a lifetime of experience with it, after having the honor of connecting with researchers, and doctors, and ADHD experts, and tens of thousands of ADHD brains all over the world, what can I tell you to help you understand ADHD? By the way, many of them helped with this talk. First of all, it's real. It's not bad parenting or lack of discipline. ADHD is a neurodevelopmental disorder. It's currently the most well-researched mental condition, and there are actually measurable differences in the brain. These differences are larger in children, but, for most people, they never go away. In other words, adults have ADHD too. While rates of ADHD diagnosis are increasing, it's not because of an increase in sugar or technology, or lack of spanking; it's not, any more than people drowning in swimming pools is because of Nicolas Cage. Correlation does not equal causation. Those are real numbers. (Laughter) It's from both an increase in understanding that ADHD exists, that girls, adults, and gifted students can have it too, and ironically a lack of understanding that being hyper, misbehaving, or struggling in school does not mean you have ADHD. ADHD is more serious than I realized. The primary characteristics - inattention, impulsivity, and hyperactivity - don't sound all that serious, and I didn't think that they were, but, in real life, they translate to people getting into more accidents, being more likely to get fired, get divorced, significantly more likely to struggle with addiction. I learned that ADHD is on a spectrum. Raise your hand if you've ever lost your keys, or spaced out in the middle of a lecture. If you're not raising your hand, I'm going to assume you spaced out in the middle of this one. (Laughter) The thing is, while everyone experiences ADHD symptoms sometimes, an actual diagnosis is based on how many of those symptoms significantly and chronically impair multiple aspects of your life. Just like you can get sad and not have depression, you can get distracted and not have ADHD. And just like you can have mild depression or severe depression, ADHD can range from mild to severe. I also learned ADHD is a terrible name for ADHD. It creates a lot of confusion. We don't have a deficit of attention! What we have trouble with is regulating our attention. As ADHD coach Brett Thornhill puts it, it's like your brain keeps switching between 30 different channels and somebody else has the remote. Sometimes we have trouble focusing at all, and other times we get stuck on a channel and can't pull ourselves away, which in real life might seem we don't want to do homework because we'd rather play video games, and short, sometimes that's the case. But the truth is there are plenty of times we want to able to focus, we try, and we just can't. Current understanding is that this difficulty has to do with the way our brains produce and metabolize neurotransmitters, like dopamine and norepinephrine. I learned ADHD is highly treatable. Stimulant medication boosts these neurotransmitters, which is why it helps us focus. It's very effective for around 80% of people with ADHD. And I learned that medication isn't enough. ADHD affects much more than our focus. It impairs executive functions like planning, prioritizing, and our ability to sustain effort toward a goal. It affects our ability to regulate our emotions, our behavior, our sleep. It's not one program in our brain that works differently; it's the whole operating system. It can affect every aspect of our lives. And there are a ton of strategies out there that can help. Cognitive behavioral therapy, coaching, even meditation or regular exercise can help make a huge difference understanding your brain. I knew I had trouble focusing, and I knew my medication helped with that. What I didn't know was that getting overwhelmed all the time had to do with poor working memory, and that making lists helps; or that the reason I ran late all the time wasn't because I didn't care, it's because ADHD'ers have a skewed sense of time, and that using a timer could teach me how long things actually take. Mostly, I expected to learn what I actually learned: that ADHD is real; addressing it is important; and medication is not enough. What I didn't expect to learn: that I wasn't alone; I had an ADHD tribe; what a difference it would make to connect with it. There are people with ADHD in every country, every culture across the globe. Yes, even in France. (Laughter) And this tribe is awesome. Comparing myself to people with neurotypical brains, I felt really bad about myself. Why couldn't I keep my house clean or finish a project in time, instead of waiting till the very last second? But seeing the positives in fellow ADHD brains helped me recognize and appreciate my own strengths, ones I couldn't see when I was just staring at my weaknesses, which is what I'd been doing for decades. But ADHD brains have a lot to offer the world. We tend to be generous, funny, creative. ADHD'ers are 300% more likely to start their own business. We not only think outside the box; we're often not even aware that there is a box. (Laughter) We may struggle when our brains aren't engaged, but ADHD brains are great at tackling tasks that are urgent, working with ideas that are new, wrestling with problems that are challenging, and dedicating themselves to projects that are of personal interest. This YouTube career I'd stumbled into was all of those things. At 32, I was divorced, miserable, and had no idea what I was doing with my life. At 33, I'd started my own business, and was connecting with ADHD experts. By now, at 34, I have a team of volunteers helping with the channel. I'm engaged to this amazing man who helps me produce the channel, works right alongside with me, is doing the slides right now - and, as we discovered, also has ADHD. (Laughter) I'm working on reaching out to schools so that kids don't have to wait until they're 32 to learn about their brains. And I'm doing my very first TEDx talk here with you today. (Cheers) (Applause) But wait! There's more! Wait. (Applause) That did sound like the end of the speech. I'm sorry, it's not. (Laughter) I'm happier and more successful than I've ever been in my life. So, what happened? How did I reach my potential? Three things: one, I learned about my brain, my ADHD brain, both on my own and by connecting with others who have it. If you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing it is stupid, unless it happens to chat with another fish and realizes fish aren't great at climbing trees, and that's okay, there's plenty of ocean. Two, in learning about my brain, I found and stumbled into a job that engages it. If you spend all your time trying to get a fish to able to climb a tree, you'll never see how far it can swim. It turns out I can be me and still be successful. I just had to find my ocean. Three, I learned strategies for challenges I still face. I have no fish analogy for this one, I'm sorry. (Laughter) I guess I learned how to swim. Once you know what your brain's challenges are, you can find solutions to them. Once you look past the stereotypes and assumptions about people with ADHD, and dig deeper, you learn what ADHD actually is. It's not people who won't stop fidgeting, or getting distracted. It is brains that are chronically underaroused, trying to get the basic level of stimulation all brains need. It's not about procrastinating or not caring. It's having executive function deficits that make it hard to get started. And it's not people being lazy or not trying enough. It's kids and adults struggling to succeed with a brain that doesn't always want to cooperate in a society that wasn't built for them. Society is our user's manual. We learn how our brains and bodies work by watching those around us. And, when yours works differently, it can feel like you're broken. So, what I'm trying to do is reach out to these people wherever they are in the world, and tell them, "You are not weird. You are not stupid. You do not need to try harder. You are not a failed version of normal. You are different, you are beautiful, and you are not alone." If you don't ADHD yourself, chances are you know somebody who does. They're your employee, your boss, your friend, they're in this room. I hope this talk helps you understand them better. If you do have ADHD, welcome to the tribe. (Applause) (Cheers) |
An interview with Mauritius's first female president | {0: 'Ameenah Gurib-Fakim was a university professor and entrepreneur before her election as the first female Head of State of Mauritius.', 1: 'Stephanie Busari is a journalist and editor at CNN International Digital.'} | TEDGlobal 2017 | Stephanie Busari: President Ameenah, thank you for joining us. Even as TED speakers go, you're something of an overachiever. Ameenah Gurib-Fakim: (Laughs) SB: You have a PhD in organic chemistry, you were vice chancellor of the University of Mauritius, a successful entrepreneur, you've won numerous awards for your work in science and you're the first Muslim female head of state in Africa. (Applause) And of course, you're no stranger to the TEDGlobal stage; you gave a talk in 2014. Did you have any political ambitions at that time? How did you go from academic to president? AGF: OK, thanks, Stephanie. First of all, I'd like to thank TED for having given me the opportunity to be here today. And I would also like to thank the government of Tanzania and the president for the welcome. And also, I'd like to thank the contribution of our consul, Mr. Rizvi, who's here, has been very supportive for all our stay here. Now, to answer your question, did I have any ambitions in politics? The straight answer is no. I did not choose the world of politics; the world of politics chose me. So here I am. (Applause) SB: So, was there ever anything in your journey that ever made you think that one day you would become president of your country? Did you ever imagine that? AGF: Absolutely not. I think the journey started immediately after TED, actually. When I went back, this journalist called me and said, "You know, your name has been cited for the president of the republic," I said, "Ma'am, you must be mistaken, because I have no ambition whatsoever." She said, "No, it's serious. Can you come and tell me this in the form of a declaration? So, OK, you'll come?" So, of course, as good journalists go, the next day I see my TED picture and, with my name, Ameenah Gurib-Fakim, "For president?" A very small interrogation mark — and people don't see the interrogation mark, they just see my name and they see my picture. And that was a sounding board. And again, as you have just said, it was a very interesting scenario because it was a scenario where they wanted to have somebody who was credible, had this political neutrality and at the same time, was for a minority because Islam is a minority religion in Mauritius, because in Mauritius, we stratify people's origins by virtue of their religious belief. And — I was a woman. So this made it all very interesting. So there we go, and this whole campaign started, and then people said, "Why not?" Now, this is very important to note, Stephanie, because normally, the president is elected after the election. And here we had a scenario where the name of the president was flagged before the election process, during the campaign. So when people voted, they knew that at some point, they would have this Muslim woman president. SB: Does it feel significant to you as a woman to be the first female president of your country? AGF: It's important for many reasons. I think, obviously, you just mentioned the terrible statistics of two female presidents in the whole of Africa. But more importantly, I think it's important also coming from the background I come from — by background I mean not ethnic, but more academic and entrepreneurial — to be there, to be that role model for that little girl growing in my village to say, "Yes, it's possible." It's possible. (Applause) It's also important, Stephanie, while I talk about diversity — diversity in the widest sense of the word. We've seen that whenever there was diversity, whenever there was openness, whenever there was dialogue, this was the time when societies have been most productive. When we talk about the Arab Golden Age, we cannot not think of Ibn Sina, al-Haytham, Averroes, Maimonides. This was a time when cultures, religions — they were talking to each other. They were at peace with each other. And this was a time when they were highly productive. So I would say: bring down these walls. SB: Absolutely, absolutely. (Applause) AGF: Virtual or otherwise. SB: Let's also talk about another conflict area which you straddle quite interestingly. As a woman of faith and also a scientist, you know, faith and science seem to be at loggerheads. It wasn't always so, but I'm interested to get your thoughts on how you reconcile both and how they coexist for you personally. AGF: They're not mutually exclusive. I mean, if you're a scientist, you tend to really look at the perfection of the human body, the way it functions. If you look at nature as a whole. I'm still amazed at the perfection with which the entire ecosystem functions together. However, to the purists, to those who are of faith, they will tell you, "Yes, there has been evolution." Even the Pope has agreed that evolution exists. But there's always the question: What came first? What came before this? When we talk about all the various strata of evolution, we'll always be asking the question, there must be something before. So I'm of the opinion that yes, there is this great spiritual force which is guiding the process, and things like this don't happen by chance. Now, whether you call it religiosity, whether you call this great spirit by any name — Brahma, Allah, the Holy Trinity — you name it — but I still think that these two are not mutually exclusive. They can still coexist with each other. SB: So let's move to one of your passions — science. You've made no secret of that. And you've always been passionate about science. I read that when you were a very young girl, you went to a career guidance counselor and told them you wanted to become a chemist, and they said, "No, it's for boys. Boys do science." Did that make you even more determined to study science and to succeed in that field? How did you respond to that? AGF: Well, to begin with, I must say, before I came to that career guidance officer, I had great teachers who motivated. And this is something I would like to draw attention to again, to our education system. We have to do away with this rote learning. We have to ensure that we drive this curiosity in the child, and they need to be curious. And if we want to move along the line for them to become great scientists, they need to become more and more curious in everything they do. So every time — exactly — I went to see the careers guidance, he looked at me and said, "What do you want to do?" I said, "I want to study chemistry." "Well, you shouldn't study chemistry because this is for boys. And the next thing, when you come back, there'll be no job for you." So I went back home, and I had a great cheerleader at home who happens to be my father. He said, "What do you want to do?" and asked, "What did he say?" I said, "This is what he said ..." He said, "What are you going to do?" I said, "I'm going to do chemistry." So there I was. And one thing I will say: one must always follow your heart. And my heart was always in chemistry. I did what I was passionate about, and I thought at some point that I had developed this thinking that if you're passionate about what you do, you will not have to work a single day in your life, until I realized it was Confucius who said that. (Laughter) SB: So do you feel a responsibility, as someone in your position, to encourage young girls, especially on this continent, to study STEM subjects? Is that something that you actively work — AGF: You know, over the past two days, Stephanie, we've been hearing a lot of conversation about the sustainable development goals. We've seen that, for example, Africa must be food secure, Africa must be energy secure, Africa must be water secure. If we want to get to that level of development — Agenda 2030 is not very far away — if you want to have success, we need to have an educated youth in Africa. And again, to be very cliché: you cannot achieve, you cannot win a football match, if you're going to leave 52 percent of the team outside. It's not possible. (Applause) SB: Yes. AGF: So we need highly educated, we need female intuition, and we need to get them there. And this is where a great deal of effort has to be done to actually motivate them from a very young age, to tell that girl that she can do anything. And if the message comes from her father, if the message comes from her brother, it's even much more powerful. We need to tell her that anything is possible and she can do it. We need to build her self-confidence from a very early age, but more importantly, we also need to actually look at the books, because there are too many stereotypes. Last year, I was very shocked when I went to a debate on Women's Day. They had a survey, and they were asking these girls how many women inventors we have, how many women scientists do we have. And you'd be shocked that hardly anyone knew that Ada Lovelace was there behind computer science, that Marie Curie still remains iconic with two Nobel prizes. So there's a lot of homework to do to actually make — to remove all these gender biases at a very young age; instill that confidence in that girl; to tell her that she can do as well if not better than her brother. SB: Yes. (Applause) Thank you. So, let's move on to an area that I know you've been very active in, which is the issue of biodiversity. You've been quite clear that this is an area that Africa must embrace. We have an abundance of rich herbal traditions and plants that could be developed into a big pharmaceutical industry. Can you tell us a little bit of how you've been using your expertise to harness growth in this area? AGF: Thank you. Yesterday, I was listening to one of the talks; it was the talk about the need for Africa to turn into a knowledge economy. Africa has got very rich traditions. Sub-Saharan Africa, southern Africa, has got over 5,000 medicinal plant species, not harnessed. And, in fact, at the TED talk I gave in 2014, I came out with one sentence: "Biodiversity underpins life on earth." And if we don't look after this biodiversity, if we don't protect it, if we don't actually harness it in the right way, we are threatening our own livelihoods on this planet. When we talk about the contribution from countries of the north to the Green Fund for the protection of our planet, it is not charity. It is to ensure our own collective livelihoods on this planet. So this is something that must be addressed. Now, again, when you talk about getting this biodiversity of Africa working for us, you'd be shocked to know that out of the 1,100 blockbuster drugs that we have on the market, only 83 come from African plants. Why is this so? Because we are responsible; us Africans. We don't value our own traditional knowledge. We don't give it the same status as allopathic medicine. Look at what China has done. China has given the same status for traditional Chinese medicine as allopathic medicine, as of 2016. Our governments, our people, have not documented, have not taken this knowledge seriously. If you want to get serious about Africa becoming a knowledge continent, this is something that we need to address very seriously, we need to start documenting, we need to start codifying this knowledge, and unfortunately, we are racing against time because tradition in Africa is that the transmission has always been oral. So we need to get our act together and make it happen. SB: So there's really a sense of urgency around this. AGF: Yes. (Applause) SB: And have you done anything yourself in respect to documenting — AGF: Yes, I definitely did. When I started my career in academia, one of the first things I did was I documented precisely these plants. And I'll tell you one thing — it was not perceived to be very serious, because here I was, in synthetic organic chemistry, going out there, talking to these grandmothers, documenting their recipes. I mean, you can't be serious — bringing weeds in the lab, and say, "We're going to be working on these." Are we going to get results? So it was really a race against prejudice to try to take people's — bring them to the table and say, "Look, this is very important." But I'm glad I did, because by that time, you start developing a crocodile skin, especially when you're a woman in the lab doing different things. You know — you become suspect. So I documented it; I'm very happy I did. And now, almost 20 years since the documentation, it now constitutes prior art, and is now very well-documented at WIPO, and it is now the information which, subsequently, my company actually started working on as well. SB: So, I watched you in the makeup room taking selfies with the makeup artist, and just being generally very accessible. And it strikes me that you're not the kind of typical, big-man, African leader. You seem very — AGF: You just demoted me. You called me a man. (Laughter) SB: I mean your style — (Applause) Your style seems to be very accessible and quite unassuming. So is this — I mean, people tend to ask women leaders if their gender has a bearing on the way they rule, or the way they lead. Does that apply to you? AGF: You know, I've never taken myself seriously. SB: OK. That's good. (Laughter) AGF: I still don't. And I don't think you should take yourself seriously. You need to have trust in what you can do, have confidence in yourself and give yourself a set of goals and just work towards them. So the goal I've given myself is, OK, I'm leading my third life — because I've been an academic, I've been an entrepreneur, now I'm here. I'm hoping to have a fourth life. So put these to work for the continent. And this is why I have chosen to give my voice to so many initiatives that would help the youth of Africa become tech-savvy, become science-savvy, because as I said earlier on, up until they get to grips with science, with whatever is around — media, technology, you name it, all calls for a good grounding in science, technology and innovation. I think we'll be here, 10 years, 20 years down the line, having the same conversation. SB: Let's talk quickly about the challenges of leadership and governance. It's hard to ignore that there's corruption on this continent with some of our leaders. How have you confronted that in your role, and what experiences can you share with us around this issue? AGF: We've had corruption — corruption doesn't exist only in Africa. Where there is a corruptee, there is a corrupter. Right? It's always a two-way process. We have focused in my country, we are working very hard towards doing something about corruption, but, you know, they also have great people in Africa. Why do we always focus on the negative? Why don't we talk about ... I want to bring on board, for example, the great quotes of Nelson Mandela. His legacy is still very much alive. We have people in — even in Tanzania, we've had Julius Nyerere, he have Nkrumah, we have Kenyatta, we have all these people who have been champions of Africa. I think we need to take pages of their book and see. In fact, Julius Nyerere himself had been a great advocate for science when he said that "science will make deserts bloom." So these are some of the founding fathers of this continent; we need to take pages from them and move ahead. (Applause) SB: Thank you very much, President Fakim. AGF: Thank you. (Applause) |
We should aim for perfection -- and stop fearing failure | {0: "UPS's Jon Bowers oversees driver and delivery training at one of the company's next-generation training facilities."} | TED@UPS | Have you ever heard of typosquatting? Well, typosquatting is where companies like Google post advertisements on websites that are commonly miskeyed, and then they sit back and rake in millions banking on the fact that you're visiting something like gmale.com or mikerowesoft.com. (Laughter) It just seems kind of silly, doesn't it? How about this? On February 28, an engineer at Amazon made a similar, seemingly small key error. Only I say seemingly small because this one little typo on Amazon's supercode produced a massive internet slowdown that cost the company over 160 million dollars in the span of just four hours. But this is actually really scary. You see, recently, an employee at the New England Compound, which is a pharmaceutical manufacturer, didn't clean a lab properly and now 76 people have died and 700 more have contracted meningitis. I mean, these examples are crazy, right? When did we come to live in a world where these types of typos, common errors, this do-your-best attitude or just good enough was acceptable? At some point, we've stopped valuing perfection, and now, these are the type of results that we get. You see, I think that we should all seek perfection, all the time, and I think we need to get to it quick. You see, I run a training facility where I'm responsible for the education of professional delivery drivers, and in my line of work, we have a unique understanding of the cost of failure, the cost of just 99 percent, because in the world of professional driving, just 99 percent of the job means somebody dies. Look, a hundred people die every day due to vehicular crashes. Think about that for a second. That's like the equivalent of four commercial airliners crashing every week, yet we still can't convince ourselves to pay perfect attention behind the wheel. So I teach my drivers to value perfection. It's why I have them memorize our 131-word defensive driving program perfectly, and then I have them rewrite it. One wrong word, one misspelled word, one missing comma, it's a failed test. It's why I do uniform inspections daily. Undershirts are white or brown only, shoes are black or brown polished leather and frankly, don't come to my class wrinkled and expect me to let you stay. It's why I insist that my drivers are on time. Don't be late, not to class, not to break, not to lunch. When you're supposed to be somewhere, be there. You see, I do this so that my students understand that when I'm training them to drive a car and I say, "Clear every intersection," they understand that I mean every traffic signal, every cross street, every side street, every parking lot, every dirt road, every crosswalk, every intersection without fail. Now, new students will often ask me why my class is so difficult, strict, or uniform, and the answer is simple. You see, perfectionism is an attitude developed in the small things and then applied to the larger job. So basically, if you can't get the little things right, you're going to fail when it counts, and when you're driving a car, it counts. A car traveling at 55 miles an hour covers the length of an American football field in just under four and a half seconds, but just so happens to be the same amount of time it takes the average person to check a text message. So I don't allow my drivers to lose focus, and I don't accept anything less than perfection out of them. And you know what? I'm tired of everybody else accepting 99 percent as good enough. I mean, being less than perfect has real consequences, doesn't it? Think about it. If the makers of our credit cards were only 99.9 percent effective, there would be over a million cards in circulation today that had the wrong information on the magnetic strip on the back. Or, if the Webster's Dictionary was only 99.9 percent accurate, it would have 470 misspelled words in it. How about this? If our doctors were only 99.9 percent correct, then every year, 4,453,000 prescriptions would be written incorrectly, and probably even scarier, 11 newborns would be given to the wrong parents every day in the United States. (Laughter) And those are just the odds, thank you. (Laughter) The reality is that the US government crashed a 1.4-billion-dollar aircraft because the maintenance crew only did 99 percent of their job. Someone forgot to check a sensor. The reality is that 16 people are now dead, 180 have now been injured, and 34 million cars are being recalled because the producers of a car airbag produced and distributed a product that they thought was, you know, good enough. The reality is that medical errors are now the third leading cause of death in America. 250,000 people die each year because somebody who probably thought they were doing their job good enough messed up. And you don't believe me? Well, I can certainly understand why. You see, it's hard for us to believe anything these days when less than 50 percent of what news pundits say is actually grounded in fact. (Laughter) So it comes down to this: trying our best is not good enough. So how do we change? We seek perfection and settle for nothing less. Now, I know. I need to give you a minute on that, because I know what you've been told. It probably goes something like, perfection is impossible for humans, so therefore, seeking perfection will not only ruin your self-esteem but it will render you a failure. But there's the irony. See, today we're all so afraid of that word failure, but the truth is, we need to fail. Failure is a natural stepping stone towards perfection, but at some point, because we became so afraid of that idea of failure and so afraid of that idea of perfection, we dismissed it because of what might happen to our egos when we fall short. I mean, do you really think that failure's going to ruin you? Or is that just the easy answer that gets us slow websites, scary healthcare and dangerous roads? I mean, are you ready to make perfection the bad guy in all this? Look, failure and imperfection are basically the same thing. We all know that imperfection exists all around us. Nothing and nobody is perfect. But at some point, because it was too difficult or too painful, we decided to dismiss our natural ability to deal with failure and replace it with a lower acceptance level. And now we're all forced to sit back and just accept this new norm or good-enough attitude and the results that come with it. So even with all that said, people will still tell me, you know, "Didn't the medical staff, the maintenance crew, the engineer, didn't they try their best, and isn't that good enough?" Well, truthfully, not for me and especially not in these examples. Yeah, but, you know, trying to be perfect is so stressful, right? And, you know, Oprah talked about it, universities study it, I bet your high school counselor even warned you about it. Stress is bad for us, isn't it? Well, maybe, but to say that seeking perfection is too stressful is like saying that exercise is too exhausting. In both cases, if you want the results, you've got to endure the pain. So truthfully, saying that seeking perfection is too stressful is just an excuse to be lazy. But here's the really scary part. Today, doctors, therapists and the nearly 10-billion- dollar-a-year self-help industry are all advocating against the idea of perfection under this guise that somehow not trying to be perfect will save your self-esteem and protect your ego. But, see, it's not working, because the self-help industry today has a higher recidivism rate because it's more focused on teaching you how to accept being a failure and lower your acceptance level than it is about pushing you to be perfect. See, these doctors, therapists and self-help gurus are all focused on a symptom and not the illness. The true illness in our society today is our unwillingness to confront failure. See, we're more comfortable resting on our efforts than we are with focusing on our results. Like at Dublin Jerome High School in Ohio, where they name 30 percent of a graduating class valedictorian. I mean, come on, right? Somebody had the highest GPA. I guarantee you it wasn't a 72-way tie. (Laughter) But, see, we're more comfortable offering up an equal outcome than we are with confronting the failure, the loser or the underachiever. And when everybody gets a prize, everybody advances, or everybody gets a pay raise despite results, the perfectionist in all of us is left to wonder, what do I have to do to get better? How do I raise above the crowd? And see, if we continue to cultivate this culture, where nobody fails or nobody is told that they will fail, then nobody's going to reach their potential, either. Failure and loss are necessary for success. It's the acceptance of failure that's not. Michelangelo is credited with saying that the greatest danger for most of us is not that our aim is too high and we miss it, but it's too low and we reach it. Failure should be a motivating force, not some type of pathetic excuse to give up. So I have an idea. Instead of defining perfectionism as a destructive intolerance for failure, why don't we try giving it a new definition? Why don't we try defining perfectionism as a willingness to do what is difficult to achieve what is right? You see, then we can agree that failure is a good thing in our quest for perfection, and when we seek perfection without fear of failure, just think about what we can accomplish. Like NBA superstar Steph Curry: he hit 77 three-point shots in a row. Think about that. The guy was able to accurately deliver a nine-and-a-half inch ball through an 18-inch rim that's suspended 10 feet in the air from nearly 24 feet away almost 80 times without failure. Or like the computer programmers at the aerospace giant Lockheed Martin, who have now written a program that uses 420,000 lines of near-flawless code to control every aspect of igniting four million pounds of rocket fuel and putting a 120-ton spaceship into orbit. Or maybe like the researchers at the Children's Mercy Hospital in Kansas City, Missouri, who have now developed a device that can complete human genome coding in just 26 hours. So this device is able to diagnose genetic diseases in babies and newborns sooner, giving doctors an opportunity to start treatments earlier and potentially save the baby's life. See, that's what happens when we seek perfection. So maybe we should be more like the professional athlete, or we should be more like that tireless programmer, or like that passionate researcher. Then we could stop fearing failure and we could stop living in a world filled with the consequences of good enough. Thank you. (Applause) |
The biggest risks facing cities -- and some solutions | {0: 'Robert Muggah creates tools to understand cycles of violence in urban environments and opens dialogues on ways to confront them globally.'} | TEDGlobal>NYC | So, here's a prediction. If we get our cities right, we just might survive the 21st century. We get them wrong, and we're done for. Cities are the most extraordinary experiment in social engineering that we humans have ever come up with. If you live in a city, and even if you live in a slum — which 20 percent of the world's urban population does — you're likely to be healthier, wealthier, better educated and live longer than your country cousins. There's a reason why three million people are moving to cities every single week. Cities are where the future happens first. They're open, they're creative, they're dynamic, they're democratic, they're cosmopolitan, they're sexy. They're the perfect antidote to reactionary nationalism. But cities have a dark side. They take up just three percent of the world's surface area, but they account for more than 75 percent of our energy consumption, and they emit 80 percent of our greenhouse gases. There are hundreds of thousands of people who die in our cities every single year from violence, and millions more who are killed as a result of car accidents and pollution. In Brazil, where I live, we've got 25 of the 50 most homicidal cities on the planet. And a quarter of our cities have chronic water shortages — and this, in a country with 20 percent of the known water reserves. So cities are dual-edged. Part of the problem is that, apart from a handful of megacities in the West and the Far East, we don't know that much about the thousands of cities in Africa, in Latin America, in Asia, where 90 percent of all future population growth is set to take place. So why this knowledge gap? Well, part of the problem is that we still see the world through the lens of nation-states. We're still locked in a 17th-century paradigm of parochial national sovereignty. And yet, in the 1600's, when nation-states were really coming into their own, less than one percent of the world's population resided in a city. Today, it's 54 percent. And by 2050, it will be closer to 70 percent. So the world has changed. We have these 193 nation-states, but we have easily as many cities that are beginning to rival them in power and influence. Just look at New York. The Big Apple has 8.5 million people and an annual budget of 80 billion dollars. Its GDP is 1.5 trillion, which puts it higher than Argentina and Australia, Nigeria and South Africa. Its roughly 40,000 police officers means it has one of the largest police departments in the world, rivaling all but the largest nation-states. But cities like New York or São Paulo or Johannesburg or Dhaka or Shanghai — they're punching above their weight economically, but below their weight politically. And that's going to have to change. Cities are going to have to find their political voice if we want to change things. Now, I want to talk to you a little bit about the risks that cities are facing — some of the big mega-risks. I'm also going to talk to you briefly about some of the solutions. I'm going to do this using a big data visualization that was developed with Carnegie Mellon's CREATE Lab and my institute, along with many, many others. I want you to first imagine the world not as made up of nation-states, but as made up of cities. What you see here is every single city with a population of a quarter million people or more. Now, without going into technical detail, the redder the circle, the more fragile that city is, and the bluer the circle, the more resilient. Fragility occurs when the social contract comes unstuck. And what we tend to see is a convergence of multiple kinds of risks: income inequality, poverty, youth unemployment, different issues around violence, even exposure to droughts, cyclones and earthquakes. Now obviously, some cities are more fragile than others. The good news, if there is any, is that fragility is not a permanent condition. Some cities that were once the most fragile cities in the world, like Bogotá in Colombia or Ciudad Juárez in Mexico, have now fallen more around the national average. The bad news is that fragility is deepening, especially in those parts of the world that are most vulnerable, in North Africa, the Middle East, in South Asia and Central Asia. There, we're seeing fragility rising way beyond scales we've ever seen before. When cities become too fragile they can collapse, tip over and fail. And when that happens, we have explosive forms of migration: refugees. There are more than 22 million refugees in the world today, more than at any other time since the second world war. Now, there's not one refugee crisis; there are multiple refugee crises. And contrary to what you might read in the news, the vast majority of refugees aren't fleeing from poor countries to wealthy countries, they're moving from poor cities into even poorer cities — often, cities nearby. Every single dot on this map represents an agonizing story of struggle and survival. But I want to briefly tell you about what's not on that map, and that's internal displacement. There are more than 36 million people who have been internally displaced around the world. These are people living in refugee-like conditions, but lacking the equivalent international protection and assistance. And to understand their plight, I want to zoom in briefly on Syria. Syria suffered one of the worst droughts in its history between 2007 and 2010. More than 75 percent of its agriculture and 85 percent of its livestock were wiped out. And in the process, over a million people moved into cities like Aleppo, Damascus and Homs. As food prices began to rise, you also had equivalent levels of social unrest. And when the regime of President Assad began cracking down, you had an explosion of refugees. You also had over six million internally displaced people, many of whom when on to become refugees. And they didn't just move to neighboring countries like Jordan or Lebanon or Turkey. They also moved up north towards Western Europe. See, over 1.4 million Syrians made the perilous journey through the Mediterranean and up through Turkey to find their way into two countries, primarily: Germany and Sweden. Now, climate change — not just drought, but also sea level rise, is probably one of the most severe existential threats that cities face. That's because two-thirds of the world's cities are coastal. Over 1.5 billion people live in low-lying, flood-prone coastal areas. What you see here is a map that shows sea level rise in relation to changes in temperature. Climate scientists predict that we're going to see anywhere between three and 30 feet of sea level rise this side of the century. And it's not just low island nation-states that are going to suffer — Kiribati or the Maldives or the Solomons or Sri Lanka — and they will suffer, but also massive cities like Dhaka, like Hong Kong, like Shanghai. Cities of 10, 20, 30 million people or more are literally going to be wiped off the face of this earth. They're going to have to adapt, or they're going to die. I want to take you also all the way over to the West, because this isn't just a problem in Asia or Africa or Latin America, this is a problem also in the West. This is Miami. Many of you know Miami is one of the wealthiest cities in the United States; it's also one of the most flood-prone. That's been made painfully evident by natural disasters throughout 2017. But Miami is built on porous limestone — a swamp. There's no way any kind of flood barrier is going to keep the water from seeping in. As we scroll back, and we look across the Caribbean and along the Gulf, we begin to realize that those cities that have suffered worst from natural crises — Port-au-Prince, New Orleans, Houston — as severe and as awful as those situations have been, they're a dress rehearsal for what's to come. No city is an island. Every city is connected to its rural hinterland in complex ways — often, in relation to the production of food. I want to take you to the northern part of the Amazon, in Rondônia. This is one of the world's largest terrestrial carbon sinks, processing millions of carbon every single year. What you see here is a single road over a 30-year period. On either side you see land being cleared for pasture, for cattle, but also for soy and sugar production. You're seeing deforestation on a massive scale. The red area here implies a net loss of forest over the last 14 years. The blue, if you could see it — there's not much — implies there's been an incremental gain. Now, as grim and gloomy as the situation is — and it is — there is a little bit of hope. See, the Brazilian government, from the national to the state to the municipal level, has also introduced a whole range — a lattice — of parks and protected areas. And while not perfect, and not always limiting encroachment, they have served to tamp back deforestation. The same applies not just in Brazil but all across the Americas, into the United States, Canada and around the world. So let's talk about solutions. Despite climate denial at the highest levels, cities are taking action. You know, when the US pulled out of the Paris Climate Agreement, hundreds of cities in the United States and thousands more around the world doubled down on their climate commitments. (Applause) And when the White House cracked down on so-called "undocumented migrants" in sanctuary cities, hundreds of cities and counties and states sat up in defiance and refused to enact that order. (Applause) So cities are and can take action. But we're going to need to see a lot more of it, especially in the global south. You see, parts of Africa and Latin America are urbanizing before they industrialize. They're growing at three times the global average in terms their population. And this is putting enormous strain on infrastructure and services. Now, there is a golden opportunity. It's a small opportunity but a golden one: in the next 10 to 20 years, to really start designing in principles of resilience into our cities. There's not one single way of doing this, but there are a number of ways that are emerging. And I've spoken with hundreds of urban planners, development specialists, architects and civic activists, and a number of recurring principles keep coming out. I just want to pass on six. First: cities need a plan and a strategy to implement it. I mean, it sounds crazy, but the vast majority of world cities don't actually have a plan or a vision. They're too busy putting out daily fires to think ahead strategically. I mean, every city wants to be creative, happy, liveable, resilient — who doesn't? The challenge is, how do you get there? And urban governance plays a key role. You could do worse than take a page from the book of Singapore. In 1971, Singapore set a 50-year urban strategy and renews it every five years. What Singapore teaches us is not just the importance of continuity, but also the critical role of autonomy and discretion. Cities need the power to be able to issue debt, to raise taxes, to zone effectively, to build affordable housing. What cities need is nothing less than a devolution revolution, and this is going to require renegotiating the terms of the contract with a nation-state. Second: you've got to go green. Cities are already leading global decarbonization efforts. They're investing in congestion pricing schemes, in climate reduction emission targets, in biodiversity, in parks and bikeways and walkways and everything in between. There's an extraordinary menu of options they have to choose from. One of the great things is, cities are already investing heavily in renewables — in solar and wind — not just in North America, but especially in Western Europe and parts of Asia. There are more than 8,000 cities right now in the world today with solar plants. There are 300 cities that have declared complete energy autonomy. One of my favorite stories comes from Medellín, which invested in a municipal hydroelectric plant, which doesn't only service its local needs, but allows the city to sell excess energy back onto the national grid. And it's not alone. There are a thousand other cities just like it. Third: invest in integrated and multi-use solutions. The most successful cities are those that are going to invest in solutions that don't solve just one problem, but that solve multiple problems. Take the case of integrated public transport. When done well — rapid bus transit, light rail, bikeways, walkways, boatways — these can dramatically reduce emissions and congestion. But they can do a lot more than that. They can improve public health. They can reduce dispersion. They can even increase safety. A great example of this comes from Seoul. You see, Seoul's population doubled over the last 30 years, but the footprint barely changed. How? Well, 75 percent of Seoul's residents get to work using what's been described as one of the most extraordinary public transport systems in the world. And Seoul used to be car country. Next, fourth: build densely but also sustainably. The death of all cities is the sprawl. Cities need to know how to build resiliently, but also in a way that's inclusive. This is a picture right here of Dallas-Fort Worth. And what you see is its population also doubled over the last 30 years. But as you can see, it spread into edge cities and suburbia as far as the eye can see. Cities need to know when not to build, so as not to reproduce urban sprawl and slums of downward accountability. The problem with Dallas-Forth Worth is just five percent of its residents get to work using public transport — five. Ninety-five percent use cars, which partly explains why it's got some of the longest commuting times in North America. Singapore, by contrast, got it right. They built vertically and built in affordable housing to boot. Fifth: steal. The smartest cities are nicking, pilfering, stealing, left, right and center. They don't have time to waste. They need tomorrow's technology today, and they're going to leapfrog to get there. This is New York, but it's not just New York that's doing a lot of stealing, it's Singapore, it's Seoul, it's Medellín. The urban renaissance is only going to be enabled when cities start borrowing from one another. And finally: work in global coalitions. You know, there are more than 200 inner-city coalitions in the world today. There are more city coalitions than there are coalitions for nation-states. Just take a look at the Global Parliament of Mayors, set up by the late Ben Barber, who was driving an urban rights movement. Or consider the C40, a marvelous network of cities that has gathered thousands together to deliver clean energy. Or look at the World Economic Forum, which is developing smart city protocols. Or the 100 Resilient Cities initiative, which is leading a resilience revival. ICLEI, UCLG, Metropolis — these are the movements of the future. What they all realize is that when cities work together, they can amplify their voice, not just on the national stage, but on the global stage. And with a voice comes, potentially, a vote — and then maybe even a veto. When nation-states default on their national sovereignty, cities have to step up. They can't wait. And they don't need to ask for permission. They can exert their own sovereignty. They understand that the local and the global have really, truly come together, that we live in a global, local world, and we need to adjust our politics accordingly. As I travel around the world and meet mayors and civic leaders, I'm amazed by the energy, enthusiasm and effectiveness they bring to their work. They're pragmatists. They're problem-solvers. They're para-diplomats. And in this moment of extraordinary international uncertainty, when our multilateral institutions are paralyzed and our nation-states are in retreat, cities and their leaders are our new 21st-century visionaries. They deserve — no, they have a right to — a seat at the table. Thank you. (Applause) |
How judges can show respect | {0: 'Judge Victoria Pratt is inspiring a global revolution in criminal justice.'} | TEDNYC | "Judge, I want to tell you something. I want to tell you something. I been watching you and you're not two-faced. You treat everybody the same." That was said to me by a transgender prostitute who before I had gotten on the bench had fired her public defender, insulted the court officer and yelled at the person sitting next to her, "I don't know what you're looking at. I look better than the girl you're with." (Laughter) She said this to me after I said her male name low enough so that it could be picked up by the record, but I said her female name loud enough so that she could walk down the aisle towards counselor's table with dignity. This is procedural justice, also known as procedural fairness, at its best. You see, I am the daughter of an African-American garbageman who was born in Harlem and spent his summers in the segregated South. Soy la hija de una peluquera dominicana. I do that to make sure you're still paying attention. (Laughter) I'm the daughter of a Dominican beautician who came to this country for a better life for her unborn children. My parents taught me, you treat everyone you meet with dignity and respect, no matter how they look, no matter how they dress, no matter how they spoke. You see, the principles of fairness were taught to me at an early age, and unbeknownst to me, it would be the most important lesson that I carried with me to the Newark Municipal Court bench. And because I was dragged off the playground at the early age of 10 to translate for family members as they began to migrate to the United States, I understand how daunting it can be for a person, a novice, to navigate any government system. Every day across America and around the globe, people encounter our courts, and it is a place that is foreign, intimidating and often hostile towards them. They are confused about the nature of their charges, annoyed about their encounters with the police and facing consequences that might impact their relationships, their finances and even their liberty. Let me paint a picture for you of what it's like for the average person who encounters our courts. First, they're annoyed as they're probed going through court security. They finally get through court security, they walk around the building, they ask different people the same question and get different answers. When they finally get to where they're supposed to be, it gets really bad when they encounter the courts. What would you think if I told you that you could improve people's court experience, increase their compliance with the law and court orders, all the while increasing the public's trust in the justice system with a simple idea? Well, that simple idea is procedural justice and it's a concept that says that if people perceive they are treated fairly and with dignity and respect, they'll obey the law. Well, that's what Yale professor Tom Tyler found when he began to study as far back in the '70s why people obey the law. He found that if people see the justice system as a legitimate authority to impose rules and regulations, they would follow them. His research concluded that people would be satisfied with the judge's rulings, even when the judge ruled against them, if they perceived that they were treated fairly and with dignity and respect. And that perception of fairness begins with what? Begins with how judges speak to court participants. Now, being a judge is sometimes like having a reserve seat to a tragic reality show that has no commercial interruptions and no season finale. It's true. People come before me handcuffed, drug-sick, depressed, hungry and mentally ill. When I saw that their need for help was greater than my fear of appearing vulnerable on the bench, I realized that not only did I need to do something, but that in fact I could do something. The good news is is that the principles of procedural justice are easy and can be implemented as quickly as tomorrow. The even better news, that it can be done for free. (Laughter) The first principle is voice. Give people an opportunity to speak, even when you're not going to let them speak. Explain it. "Sir, I'm not letting you speak right now. You don't have an attorney. I don't want you to say anything that's going to hurt your case." For me, assigning essays to defendants has been a tremendous way of giving them voice. I recently gave an 18-year-old college student an essay. He lamented his underage drinking charge. As he stood before me reading his essay, his voice cracking and his hands trembling, he said that he worried that he had become an alcoholic like his mom, who had died a couple of months prior due to alcohol-related liver disease. You see, assigning a letter to my father, a letter to my son, "If I knew then what I know now ..." "If I believed one positive thing about myself, how would my life be different?" gives the person an opportunity to be introspective, go on the inside, which is where all the answers are anyway. But it also gives them an opportunity to share something with the court that goes beyond their criminal record and their charges. The next principle is neutrality. When increasing public trust in the justice system, neutrality is paramount. The judge cannot be perceived to be favoring one side over the other. The judge has to make a conscious decision not to say things like, "my officer," "my prosecutor," "my defense attorney." And this is challenging when we work in environments where you have people assigned to your courts, the same people coming in and out of your courts as well. When I think of neutrality, I'm reminded of when I was a new Rutgers Law grad and freshly minted attorney, and I entered an arbitration and I was greeted by two grey-haired men who were joking about the last game of golf they played together and planning future social outings. I knew my client couldn't get a fair shot in that forum. The next principle is understand. It is critical that court participants understand the process, the consequences of the process and what's expected of them. I like to say that legalese is the language we use to confuse. (Laughter) I am keenly aware that the people who appear before me, many of them have very little education and English is often their second language. So I speak plain English in court. A great example of this was when I was a young judge — oh no, I mean younger judge. (Laughter) When I was a younger judge, a senior judge comes to me, gives me a script and says, "If you think somebody has mental health issues, ask them these questions and you can get your evaluation." So the first time I saw someone who had what I thought was a mental health issue, I went for my script and I started to ask questions. "Um, sir, do you take psycho — um, psychotrop — psychotropic medication?" "Nope." "Uh, sir, have you treated with a psychiatrist before?" "Nope." But it was obvious that the person was suffering from mental illness. One day, in my frustration, I decided to scrap the script and ask one question. "Ma'am, do you take medication to clear your mind?" "Yeah, judge, I take Haldol for my schizophrenia, Xanax for my anxiety." The question works even when it doesn't. "Mr. L, do you take medication to clear your mind?" "No, judge, I don't take no medication to clear my mind. I take medication to stop the voices in my head, but my mind is fine." (Laughter) You see, once people understand the question, they can give you valuable information that allows the court to make meaningful decisions about the cases that are before them. The last principle is respect, that without it none of the other principles can work. Now, respect can be as simple as, "Good afternoon, sir." "Good morning, ma'am." It's looking the person in the eye who is standing before you, especially when you're sentencing them. It's when I say, "Um, how are you doing today? And what's going on with you?" And not as a greeting, but as someone who is actually interested in the response. Respect is the difference between saying, "Ma'am, are you having difficulty understanding the information in the paperwork?" versus, "You can read and write, can't you?" when you've realized there's a literacy issue. And the good thing about respect is that it's contagious. People see you being respectful to other folks and they impute that respect to themselves. You see, that's what the transgender prostitute was telling me. I'm judging you just as much as you think you may be judging me. Now, I am not telling you what I think, I am telling you what I have lived, using procedural justice to change the culture at my courthouse and in the courtroom. After sitting comfortably for seven months as a traffic court judge, I was advised that I was being moved to the criminal court, Part Two, criminal courtroom. Now, I need you to understand, this was not good news. (Laughter) It was not. Part Two was known as the worst courtroom in the city, some folks would even say in the state. It was your typical urban courtroom with revolving door justice, you know, your regular lineup of low-level offenders — you know, the low-hanging fruit, the drug-addicted prostitute, the mentally ill homeless person with quality-of-life tickets, the high school dropout petty drug dealer and the misguided young people — you know, those folks doing a life sentence 30 days at a time. Fortunately, the City of Newark decided that Newarkers deserved better, and they partnered with the Center for Court Innovation and the New Jersey Judiciary to create Newark Community Solutions, a community court program that provided alternative sanctions. This means now a judge can sentence a defendant to punishment with assistance. So a defendant who would otherwise get a jail sentence would now be able to get individual counseling sessions, group counseling sessions as well as community giveback, which is what we call community service. The only problem is that this wonderful program was now coming to Newark and was going to be housed where? Part Two criminal courtroom. And the attitudes there were terrible. And the reason that the attitudes were terrible there was because everyone who was sent there understood they were being sent there as punishment. The officers who were facing disciplinary actions at times, the public defender and prosecutor felt like they were doing a 30-day jail sentence on their rotation, the judges understood they were being hazed just like a college sorority or fraternity. I was once told that an attorney who worked there referred to the defendants as "the scum of the earth" and then had to represent them. I would hear things from folks like, "Oh, how could you work with those people? They're so nasty. You're a judge, not a social worker." But the reality is that as a society, we criminalize social ills, then sent people to a judge and say, "Do something." I decided that I was going to lead by example. So my first foray into the approach came when a 60-something-year-old man appeared before me handcuffed. His head was lowered and his body was showing the signs of drug withdrawal. I asked him how long he had been addicted, and he said, "30 years." And I asked him, "Do you have any kids?" And he said, "Yeah, I have a 32-year-old son." And I said, "Oh, so you've never had the opportunity to be a father to your son because of your addiction." He began to cry. I said, "You know what, I'm going to let you go home, and you'll come back in two weeks, and when you come back, we'll give you some assistance for your addiction." Surprisingly, two weeks passed and he was sitting the courtroom. When he came up, he said, "Judge, I came back to court because you showed me more love than I had for myself." And I thought, my God, he heard love from the bench? I could do this all day. (Laughter) Because the reality is that when the court behaves differently, then naturally people respond differently. The court becomes a place you can go to for assistance, like the 60-something-year-old schizophrenic homeless woman who was in distress and fighting with the voices in her head, and barges into court, and screams, "Judge! I just came by to see how you were doing." I had been monitoring her case for a couple of months, her compliance with her medication, and had just closed out her case a couple of weeks ago. On this day she needed help, and she came to court. And after four hours of coaxing by the judge, the police officers and the staff, she is convinced to get into the ambulance that will take her to crisis unit so that she can get her medication. People become connected to their community when the court changes, like the 50-something-year-old man who told me, "Community service was terrible, Judge. I had to clean the park, and it was full of empty heroin envelopes, and the kids had to play there." As he wrung his hands, he confessed, "Judge, I realized that it was my fault, because I used that same park to get high, and before you sent me there to do community service, I had never gone to the park when I wasn't high, so I never noticed the children playing there." Every addict in the courtroom lowered their head. Who better to teach that lesson? It helps the court reset its relationship with the community, like with the 20-something-year-old guy who gets a job interview through the court program. He gets a job interview at an office cleaning company, and he comes back to court to proudly say, "Judge, I even worked in my suit after the interview, because I wanted the guy to see how bad I wanted the job." It's what happens when a person in authority treats you with dignity and respect, like the 40-something-year-old guy who struts down the aisle and says, "Judge, do you notice anything different?" And when I look up, he's pointing at his new teeth that he was able to get after getting a referral from the program, but he was able to get them to replace the old teeth that he lost as a result of years of heroin addiction. When he looks in the mirror, now he sees somebody who is worth saving. You see, I have a dream and that dream is that judges will use these tools to revolutionize the communities that they serve. Now, these tools are not miracle cure-alls, but they get us light-years closer to where we want to be, and where we want to be is a place that people enter our halls of justice and believe they will be treated with dignity and respect and know that justice will be served there. Imagine that, a simple idea. Thank you. (Applause) |
What I learned serving time for a crime I didn't commit | {0: 'At Clean Start Kenya, Teresa Njoroge builds bridges connecting the formerly imprisoned to the outside world and vice versa.'} | TEDWomen 2017 | When I heard those bars slam hard, I knew it was for real. I feel confused. I feel betrayed. I feel overwhelmed. I feel silenced. What just happened? How could they send me here? I don't belong here. How could they make such a huge mistake without any repercussions whatsoever to their actions? I see large groups of women in tattered uniforms surrounded by huge walls and gates, enclosed by iron barbed wires, and I get hit by an awful stench, and I ask myself, how did I move from working in the respected financial banking sector, having worked so hard in school, to now being locked up in the largest correctional facility for women in Kenya? My first night at Langata Women Maximum Security Prison was the toughest. In January of 2009, I was informed that I had handled a fraudulent transaction unknowingly at the bank where I worked. I was shocked, scared and terrified. I would lose a career that I loved passionately. But that was not the worst. It got even worse than I could have ever imagined. I got arrested, maliciously charged and prosecuted. The absurdity of it all was the arresting officer asking me to pay him 10,000 US dollars and the case would disappear. I refused. Two and a half years on, in and out of courts, fighting to prove my innocence. It was all over the media, in the newspapers, TV, radio. They came to me again. This time around, said to me, "If you give us 50,000 US dollars, the judgement will be in your favor," irrespective of the fact that there was no evidence whatsoever that I had any wrongdoing on the charges that I was up against. I remember the events of my conviction six years ago as if it were yesterday. The cold, hard face of the judge as she pronounced my sentence on a cold Thursday morning for a crime that I hadn't committed. I remember holding my three-month-old beautiful daughter whom I had just named Oma, which in my dialect means "truth and justice," as that was what I had longed so much for all this time. I dressed her in her favorite purple dress, and here she was, about to accompany me to serve this one-year sentence behind bars. The guards did not seem sensitive to the trauma that this experience was causing me. My dignity and humanity disappeared with the admission process. It involved me being searched for contrabands, changed from my ordinary clothes to the prison uniform, forced to squat on the ground, a posture that I soon came to learn would form the routine of the thousands of searches, number counts, that lay ahead of me. The women told me, "You'll adjust to this place. You'll fit right in." I was no longer referred to as Teresa Njoroge. The number 415/11 was my new identity, and I soon learned that was the case with the other women who we were sharing this space with. And adjust I did to life on the inside: the prison food, the prison language, the prison life. Prison is certainly no fairytale world. What I didn't see come my way was the women and children whom we served time and shared space with, women who had been imprisoned for crimes of the system, the corruption that requires a fall guy, a scapegoat, so that the person who is responsible could go free, a broken system that routinely vilifies the vulnerable, the poorest amongst us, people who cannot afford to pay bail or bribes. And so we moved on. As I listened to story after story of these close to 700 women during that one year in prison, I soon realized that crime was not what had brought these women to prison, most of them, far from it. It had started with the education system, whose supply and quality is not equal for all; lack of economic opportunities that pushes these women to petty survival crimes; the health system, social justice system, the criminal justice system. If any of these women, who were mostly from poor backgrounds, fall through the cracks in the already broken system, the bottom of that chasm is a prison, period. By the time I completed my one-year sentence at Langata Women Maximum Prison, I had a burning conviction to be part of the transformation to resolve the injustices that I had witnessed of women and girls who were caught up in a revolving door of a life in and out of prison due to poverty. After my release, I set up Clean Start. Clean Start is a social enterprise that seeks to give these women and girls a second chance. What we do is we build bridges for them. We go into the prisons, train them, give them skills, tools and support to enable them to be able to change their mindsets, their behaviors and their attitudes. We also build bridges into the prisons from the corporate sector — individuals, organizations that will partner with Clean Start to enable us to provide employment, places to call home, jobs, vocational training, for these women, girls, boys and men, upon transition back into society. I never thought that one day I would be giving stories of the injustices that are so common within the criminal justice system, but here I am. Every time I go back to prison, I feel a little at home, but it is the daunting work to achieve the vision that keeps me awake at night, connecting the miles to Louisiana, which is deemed as the incarceration capital of the world, carrying with me stories of hundreds of women whom I have met within the prisons, some of whom are now embracing their second chances, and others who are still on that bridge of life's journey. I embody a line from the great Maya Angelou. "I come as one, but I stand as 10,000." (Applause) For my story is singular, but imagine with me the millions of people in prisons today, yearning for freedom. Three years post my conviction and two years post my release, I got cleared by the courts of appeal of any wrongdoing. (Applause) Around the same time, I got blessed with my son, whom I named Uhuru, which in my dialect means "freedom." (Applause) Because I had finally gotten the freedom that I so longed for. I come as one, but I stand as 10,000, encouraged by the hard-edged hope that thousands of us have come together to reform and transform the criminal justice system, encouraged that we are doing our jobs as we are meant to do them. And let us keep doing them with no apology. Thank you. (Applause) |
How to talk (and listen) to transgender people | {0: 'TED Resident Jackson Bird is using digital storytelling to demystify the transgender experience.'} | TED Residency | Hi, I'm Jack, and I'm transgender. Let me take a guess at some of thoughts that might be running through your head right now. "Transgender? Wait, does that mean that they're actually a man or actually a woman?" "I wonder if he's had the surgery yet ... Oh, now I'm looking at his crotch. Look to the right, that's a safe place to look." "Yes, I knew it! No real man has hips like those." "My friend's daughter is transgender — I wonder if they know each other." "Oh my gosh, he is so brave. I would totally support his right to use the men's bathroom. Wait, but how does he use the bathroom? How does he have sex?" OK, OK, let's stop those hypothetical questions before we get too close for my comfort. I mean, don't get me wrong, I did come here today to share my personal experiences being transgender, but I did not wake up this morning wanting to tell an entire audience about my sex life. Of course, that's the problem with being trans, right? People are pretty much always wondering how we have sex and what kind of equipment we're working with below the belt. Being trans is awkward. And not just because the gender I was assigned at birth mismatches the one I really am. Being trans is awkward because everyone else gets awkward when they're around me. People who support me and all other trans people wholeheartedly are often so scared to say to wrong thing, so embarrassed to not know what they think they should, that they never ask. Part of what was so nerve-racking about coming out as transgender was knowing that people wouldn't know what I meant. And when someone comes out as gay, people know what that means, but when you come out as trans, you have to face the misconceptions that will color other people's impressions of you even after you've educated them ... And you will have to educate them. When I came out, I wrote at 10-page encyclopedic document with a zip-file attachment of music and videos that I sent to every single person I came out to. (Laughter) And I kept it in my email signature for months afterwards, because you also don't ever stop coming out. I came out to the accountant helping me with my taxes and the TSA agents who didn't know which one of them should pat me down, the man or the woman. I mean, I just came out to everyone watching this. When I came out to my dad, to my great relief, he was totally cool with me being trans, but as soon as I started talking about physically transitioning, he freaked. And I quickly realized it was because he, like so many other people, think that physical transition means just one thing: the surgery. Now, listen, if there were one magical surgery that could turn me into a tall, muscular, societally perfect image of a man overnight, I'd sign up in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, it isn't that simple. There are dozens of different gender-affirming surgeries from chest surgeries to bottom surgeries to facial feminization and man-sculpting. Many trans people will only ever undergo one procedure in their lifetime, if that. Maybe because they don't personally feel the need but also because they're expensive, and health insurance is only beginning to cover them. Instead, the first step for a trans person seeking physical transition is usually hormone replacement therapy. Hormones are why I have a deeper voice and some sparse whiskers on my neck and a giant pimple on my chin. Basically, they put you through a second puberty ... it's a blast. (Laughter) Now, because our transitions are slower and steadier than historic misconceptions can lead people to believe, there can be some confusion about when to call someone by their new name and pronouns. There's no distinct point in physical transition at which a trans person becomes their true gender. As soon as they tell you their new name and pronouns, that's when you start using them. It can be difficult to make the change. You might slip up here and there; I've slipped up myself with other trans people. But I always think to myself, if we can change from calling Puff Daddy to P. Diddy, and if we apologize profusely when we've used the wrong gender pronoun for someone's pet cat — I mean, I think we can make the same effort for the real humans in our lives. Now, there is no topic that makes other people more awkward about trans people than public bathrooms. Ah, the bathrooms — the latest political flash point for LGBT opponents. Here's a fun fact about bathrooms: more US congressmen have been convicted of assaulting someone in a public bathroom than trans people have been. (Laughter) The truth is we trans people are so much more scared of you than you are of us. It's a huge point of discussion in trans communities about which bathroom to start using and when, so we don't attract attention that could lead to violence against us. I personally started using the men's room when I started getting confused and frightened looks in the women's room, even though I was petrified to start going into the men's room. And often we opt to just not go to the bathroom at all. A 2015 national survey of trans people found that eight percent of us had had a urinary tract infection in the past year as a result of avoiding restrooms. These bathroom bills aren't protecting anyone. All they're doing is ensuring that when trans people are assaulted in bathrooms, the law will no longer be on our side when we report it. Being trans means a daily onslaught of these misconceptions. And I have it pretty easy. I am a white, able-bodied guy sitting nearly at the peak of privilege mountain. For non-binary people, for trans women, for trans people of color, it is so much harder. So I've given you a starter pack of trans knowledge that I hope will lead to more learning on your own. Talk to trans people. Listen to us. Amplify our voices. Take the heat off of us and educate those around you so we don't have to every time. Maybe someday, when I say, "Hi, I'm Jack, and I'm transgender," the only response I'll get is, "Hi, nice to meet you." Thank you. (Applause) |
The Housing First approach to homelessness | {0: 'Lloyd Pendleton wants to eliminate chronic homelessness.'} | TEDMED 2016 | What do you think would happen if you invited an individual who had been living on the street for many years, had mental health issues and was an alcoholic to move directly from the street into housing? We had heard this was being done in New York City, and it was called the Housing First model. We wondered if it would work in Utah. So to make that determination, we decided to create a pilot, and Keta was one of the 17 chronically homeless individuals we included in this pilot. She had been on the street for 20-plus years, had mental health issues and was a severe alcoholic. The first night in her apartment, she put her belongings on the bed and slept on the floor. The next three nights, she slept out by the dumpster near the apartment building. With the aid of her case manager, she moved back into her apartment but continued to sleep on the floor for several nights. It took over two weeks for her to develop enough trust and confidence that this apartment was hers and would not be taken away from her before she would start sleeping in the bed. Homelessness is a continuing challenge for many cities throughout our country. Our homeless population falls into three major categories: those that are temporarily homeless, about 75 percent; those that are episodically homeless, about 10 percent; and those that are chronically homeless, about 15 percent. Chronic homelessness is defined as an unaccompanied adult who has been continuously homeless for a year or more or more than four times homeless in three years that totals 365 days. This small 15 percent of the homeless population can consume 50 to 60 percent of the homeless resources available in a community. In addition, they can cost the community 20,000 to 45,000 dollars a year per person in emergency services costs, such as EMT runs, emergency room visits, as many of you will be aware, addictions, interactions with the police, jail time. Simply put, this small population costs a lot. Based on this reality, the US government began an initiative in 2003 inviting states and cities and counties to develop a plan to end chronic homelessness in a 10-year period. The state of Utah accepted this invitation, and I was asked to lead this effort. In 2005, we approved a 10-year plan, and 10 years later, in 2015, we reported a reduction in our chronic homeless population of 91 percent statewide. (Applause) That's amazing. When I began this process, and we began this process, I realized that I had a limited understanding of homelessness and the factors that impacted it, and that I needed a fairly major change in my belief, in my thinking, because I had been raised with the theory of rugged individualism and "pull yourself up by the bootstraps." That philosophy came from being raised on our family's cattle ranch in a small town in the western desert of Utah. On the ranch, you learned that nothing takes priority over caring for the cattle, something always needs fixing and most importantly, hard work makes the world right. It was through that lens that I would see homeless people. When I was a teenager, our family would go into Salt Lake City, and I would see these homeless people — "hobos" we called them then — sitting around on the street, and I would think, "You lazy bums, get a job. Pull yourself up by the bootstraps." After high school, I left the ranch, graduated from college, went to work for Ford Motor Company for several years, then got a job at the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and moved back to Salt Lake City. During that employment, I had the opportunity to be loaned out to the state's largest homeless shelter to assist them in developing and improving their financial and management capabilities. While there, I became aware of a new approach to dealing with homeless individuals and drug addicts. It was called the harm reduction model, and it consisted of passing out clean needles and condoms. And I thought, "Now that is one stupid idea." (Laughter) "That's just going to encourage them to continue that behavior. Just tell them to stop." Several years later, I read some of the early 10-year plans to end chronic homelessness promoted by the federal government. As I read through those plans, and I thought, "Pfft! This is unrealistic. You can't end homelessness. There's too many personal choices and factors beyond our control." My perspective changed, however, when I attended a conference in 2003, where I learned the reason behind the 10-year plan. First was this small population of the homeless group that was 15 percent and were very expensive. That made sense for a conservative state like Utah. The second insight was learning about this Housing First, or low-barrier housing. There had been an agency in New York City that had been inviting mentally ill homeless individuals to move directly from the street into housing. And they were also allowed to continue to use drugs and to drink, just like we can in our homes. They were, in addition, offered services — not required to use them — by on-site case managers to assist them to adjust to their new living arrangements and to stabilize their lives. They were using the harm reduction model. And despite my initial low expectations about hearing about this model, they were having an astonishing success rate: 85 percent were still housed after 12 months. The third insight was the importance of developing a trusting relationship. Because of the abuse these individuals have had throughout most of their lives, they hardly trust anybody, and the clean needles and condoms and low-barrier housing was a means to begin to develop a relationship of trust. Vital. So as I flew home from this conference, sitting in the plane looking out the window, I realized that my understanding and perspective about homelessness was shifting. And as I stared out that window, this very strong feeling and thought came to me that if there's any state in the union that could end chronic homelessness, it was the state of Utah, because there's an underlying feeling and desire and willingness to collaborate to serve our neighbors, including those who are homeless. A new vision was becoming clear to me how this could be done. Now, those of us that attended the conference said, "Yeah, these models will work in Utah." But when we got back home, there were many who said, "Nah, those aren't going to work. They won't succeed here." But there was, however, an affordable housing organization who was willing to build our first 100 units. But they had concerns about having 100 chronically homeless people in one location. To address that concern, we decided to create a pilot to test that idea while we built the first 100 units. We would use existing units scattered throughout Salt Lake City. Then we debated: Should we select fairly high-functioning homeless persons or the most challenging ones we could find? And this is where my background on the ranch came into play. Back then, my mother cooked our meals and heated the water for our weekly bath on a wood-burning and coal-burning stove. And after chopping wood for that stove all those years, I'd learned to chop the big end of the log first, when I had the most energy. We decided to use the "big end of the log first" approach and selected 17 of the most challenging, difficult, chronically homeless people we could find, because we knew we would learn the most from them. Twenty-two months later, all 17 were still housed, including Keta, who today, 11 years later, is sleeping in her own bed and is sober. At the end of this pilot, one of the young case managers said, "We used to debate up at our university classes which theory of case management was the most effective. Now our theory of case management is: anything necessary to keep them housed." We became believers, and built hundreds of units over those next 10 years, leading to the reduction of our statewide chronic homeless population of 91 percent. Now, who are homeless people? Many people just want them to go away, to disappear, not disrupt our lives. Through this 10-year, 11-year process, I gained many insights of why people become homeless. One of those insights came to me a few years ago when I was visiting with our medical outreach team. These are our frontline workers that go out and visit the street homeless and the prostitutes to check on their medical health. One of the team members mentioned that eight of the prostitutes had given birth to 31 children that had become wards of the state. They also shared that some of the pimps were their husbands, and worse yet, their parents. These prostitutes, in their late teens, 20s, early 30s, were expected to earn enough money a day to support a hundred-dollar-a-day heroin addiction, their living expenses and their pimp. And with unprotected sex, they were paid more, and predictably, this would lead to a pregnancy. Children born under these circumstances many times end up becoming homeless. And it's not helpful to look at those born under those circumstances, or a parent that makes their child a drug addict at age seven, or a generation of babies born through drug addiction, and not feel some despair. For me, I believe every person is of value, no matter who you are. And it's not helpful to look at somebody with this start in life and blame them for where they are. (Applause) No one grows up saying, "My goal in life is to become homeless." And that's the beauty of the harm reduction and Housing First model. It recognizes the complexities of the different factors that can shape a human life. These models meet people where they are, not where we are or where we think they should be. The pilot we did with our 17 taught us many lessons. When people have been living on the street for many years, moving back into housing requires lots of things to learn. And Donald taught us some of these transition lessons. His case manager asked him why he had not turned up the heat in his cold apartment. Donald said, "How do you do that?" He was shown how to use a thermostat. The case manager also observed that he was heating the beans in the can on the stove, like he had done over the campfires for many years. He was shown how to use pots and pans. We also learned that he had a sister that he had not seen in 25 years, who thought he was dead. She was happy to learn otherwise, and they were soon reconnected. Hundreds of people like Keta and Donald are now housed and reconnecting with their families. Also, many of our communities are incurring fewer emergency services costs. I have learned over and over again that when you listen to somebody's story with an open heart, walk in their shoes with them, you can't help but love and care for them and want to serve them. This is why I'm committed to continuing to bring hope and support to our homeless citizens, who I consider to be my brothers and sisters. Thank you. (Applause) |
How the military fights climate change | {0: 'Scientist and retired Navy officer Dr. David Titley asks a big question: Could the US military play a role in combating climate change? '} | TED2017 | So I'd like to tell you a story about climate and change, but it's really a story about people and not polar bears. So this is our house that we lived in in the mid-2000s. I was the chief operating officer for the Navy's weather and ocean service. It happened to be down at a place called Stennis Space Center right on the Gulf Coast, so we lived in a little town called Waveland, Mississippi, nice modest house, and as you can see, it's up against a storm surge. Now, if you ever wonder what a 30-foot or nine-meter storm surge does coming up your street, let me show you. Same house. That's me, kind of wondering what's next. But when we say we lost our house — this is, like, right after Katrina — so the house is either all the way up there in the railway tracks, or it's somewhere down there in the Gulf of Mexico, and to this day, we really, we lost our house. We don't know where it is. (Laughter) You know, it's gone. So I don't show this for pity, because in many ways, we were the luckiest people on the Gulf Coast. One of the things is, we had insurance, and that idea of insurance is probably pretty important there. But does this scale up, you know, what happened here? And I think it kind of does, because as you've heard, as the sea levels come up, it takes weaker and weaker storms to do something like this. So let's just step back for a second and kind of look at this. And, you know, climate's really complicated, a lot of moving parts in this, but I kind of put it about it's all about the water. See, see those three blue dots there down on the lower part? The one you can easily see, that's all the water in the world. Those two smaller dots, those are the fresh water. And it turns out that as the climate changes, the distribution of that water is changing very fundamentally. So now we have too much, too little, wrong place, wrong time. It's salty where it should be fresh; it's liquid where it should be frozen; it's wet where it should be dry; and in fact, the very chemistry of the ocean itself is changing. And what that does from a security or a military part is it does three things: it changes the very operating environment that we're working in, it threatens our bases, and then it has geostrategic risks, which sounds kind of fancy and I'll explain what I mean by that in a second. So let's go to just a couple examples here. And we'll start off with what we all know is of course a political and humanitarian catastrophe that is Syria. And it turns out that climate was one of the causes in a long chain of events. It actually started back in the 1970s. When Assad took control over Syria, he decided he wanted to be self-sufficient in things like wheat and barley. Now, you would like to think that there was somebody in Assad's office that said, "Hey boss, you know, we're in the eastern Mediterranean, kind of dry here, maybe not the best idea." But I think what happened was, "Boss, you are a smart, powerful and handsome man. We'll get right on it." And they did. So by the '90s, believe it or not, they were actually self-sufficient in food, but they did it at a great cost. They did it at a cost of their aquifers, they did it at a cost of their surface water. And of course, there are many nonclimate issues that also contributed to Syria. There was the Iraq War, and as you can see by that lower blue line there, over a million refugees come into the cities. And then about a decade ago, there's this tremendous heat wave and drought — fingerprints all over that show, yes, this is in fact related to the changing climate — has put another three quarters of a million farmers into those same cities. Why? Because they had nothing. They had dust. They had dirt. They had nothing. So now they're in the cities, the Iraqis are in the cities, it's Assad, it's not like he's taking care of his people, and all of a sudden we have just this huge issue here of massive instability and a breeding ground for extremism. And this is why in the security community we call climate change a risk to instability. It accelerates instability here. In plain English, it makes bad places worse. So let's go to another place here. Now we're going to go 2,000 kilometers, or about 1,200 miles, north of Oslo, only 600 miles from the Pole, and this is arguably the most strategic island you've never heard of. It's a place called Svalbard. It sits astride the sea lanes that the Russian Northern Fleet needs to get out and go into warmer waters. It is also, by virtue of its geography, a place where you can control every single polar orbiting satellite on every orbit. It is the strategic high ground of space. Climate change has greatly reduced the sea ice around here, greatly increasing human activity, and it's becoming a flashpoint, and in fact the NATO Parliamentary Assembly is going to meet here on Svalbard next month. The Russians are very, very unhappy about that. So if you want to find a flashpoint in the Arctic, look at Svalbard there. Now, in the military, we have known for decades, if not centuries, that the time to prepare, whether it's for a hurricane, a typhoon or strategic changes, is before they hit you, and Admiral Nimitz was right there. That is the time to prepare. Fortunately, our Secretary of Defense, Secretary Mattis, he understands that as well, and what he understands is that climate is a risk. He has said so in his written responses to Congress, and he says, "As Secretary of Defense, it's my job to manage such risks." It's not only the US military that understands this. Many of our friends and allies in other navies and other militaries have very clear-eyed views about the climate risk. And in fact, in 2014, I was honored to speak for a half-a-day seminar at the International Seapower Symposium to 70 heads of navies about this issue. So Winston Churchill is alleged to have said, I'm not sure if he said anything, but he's alleged to have said that Americans can always be counted upon to do the right thing after exhausting every other possibility. (Laughter) So I would argue we're still in the process of exhausting every other possibility, but I do think we will prevail. But I need your help. This is my ask. I ask not that you take your recycling out on Wednesday, but that you engage with every business leader, every technology leader, every government leader, and ask them, "Ma'am, sir, what are you doing to stabilize the climate?" It's just that simple. Because when enough people care enough, the politicians, most of whom won't lead on this issue — but they will be led — that will change this. Because I can tell you, the ice doesn't care. The ice doesn't care who's in the White House. It doesn't care which party controls your congress. It doesn't care which party controls your parliament. It just melts. Thank you very much. (Applause) |
How grief helped me become a better caregiver | {0: 'Alina is a pediatric intensive care unit (PICU) nurse. Prior to becoming a nurse, she conducted research amongst the frail elderly in nursing homes, which included toileting, feeding, and exercise interventions to demonstrate the need for greater staffing levels. The research work motivated her to become a bedside nurse, as she found herself drawn to both the science and the art of skillful, wholehearted nursing. Alina is now passionate about giving voice to the oft-hidden heart experience of nurses as they work in vulnerable closeness to the sick, suffering, and dying. As such, her writing has been featured in Off the Charts, the blog for the American Journal of Nursing (AJN), and the Oxford Handbook of Meaningful Work. Her essay titled “Intimate Strangers” will be published in the August 2017 edition of AJN.\n\n'} | TEDxPasadena | In May of this year, Jimmy Kimmel delivered an emotional monologue on his show, "Jimmy Kimmel Live," about his newborn son who was diagnosed with a rare heart defect after an astute nurse noticed something wasn't quite right with the baby just hours after his birth. Kimmel sang the praises of this nurse and the entire healthcare team who cared for his son through the process of open-heart surgery. His monologue highlighted the reality that no one, not even a celebrity, is immune from unexpected health crises. At some point, each one of us will be profoundly affected by illness, be it in you, or in someone you love. And every health crisis benefits from an open-hearted nurse who is willing to come alongside the patient and family in some of the most challenging times of life. I'm a critical care nurse, and like many of my colleagues, I went into nursing because I wanted to be a therapeutic presence for others. I envisioned the profession to be one where I lived on the highs - not from being elevated by a celebrity's monologue, but from feeling like I was always doing something meaningful and helpful for others. I thought that the highs alone would be enough to help me cope with the intense stress and heartache that come from taking care of so many sick and sometimes dying patients. But as I rode the roller coaster of suffering with my patients and their families, I quickly understood that I was going to need something more than the intermittent feel-good moments to sustain me through the lows. And this isn't just true for me. Recent literature shows that nurses everywhere are battling this challenge. Currently, 25 to 33% of critical care nurses show symptoms of severe burnout, which is not just emotional and physical exhaustion but also a feeling of personal detachment from their job. Current annual turnover rates among critical care nurses range between 13 to 20%, which is higher than the overall turnover rate for other professions. These statistics can be disheartening, given that many of us will rely on a nurse at some point in our lives. In our times of weakness, vulnerability and helplessness, we need nurses who have found a way to preserve meaning, and commitment to their work. While many external factors contributing to burnout have been studied, I've been asking what we nurses are to do with the internal issue of grief - not in terms of caring for others in their grief, but working through our own grief on a deeper level as we are affected by the suffering of our patients and their families. How do I endure through the lows that come with this profession? I endure by allowing my natural response of grief to teach me its life-giving lessons. Grief kind of has a bad rap. It's seen as something unnatural, something to be avoided as much as possible in order to survive. It's seen as a thief of life. But consider this: When I spend an entire 12-hour shift with a patient who, just a few days prior, was a healthy, free-wheeling teenager who jumped into a pool the wrong way and has now been told that he will never use his arms or legs again because of a severed spinal cord, grief will be one of the most natural and predominant emotions for him, his family, and for me as his nurse. We can think of this grief like a river running downstream, and as the nurse, I'm on this life raft together with my patient and his family. Grief is strong, it's scary, and no one really knows for sure where it's going to take us. But for this patient, his family, and for all of us, when we find ourselves in this kind of situation, it's natural. So if my endurance strategy as a nurse is to try to swim upstream against grief by way of suppression, and against the next stream and the next stream, I'm not going to win. Eventually, I'm not going to last. Rather than resisting grief and saying, "It's just too hard to think about these issues," I can choose a different perspective as I accept the inevitable fact that I will be affected by grief. I can embrace my grief as a natural teacher about the deeper things I need in order to endure as a nurse. Resilience in the midst of exhaustion. Meaning in the midst of despair. I can redefine my purpose. When my initial idealism about life has been shaken, I can instead transform my grief and choose to use it to cultivate greater empathy for my patients and their families. These are the life-giving lessons of grief that can ultimately empower me to endure as a nurse. Research is slowly growing on the topic of grief in healthcare professionals. Marion Conti-O'Hare is a nurse researcher who developed this perspective into a theory known as "The Nurse as Wounded Healer," where the nurse learns to transform and rise above grief such that the nurse is all the more able to care for others. Along these lines, another researcher who studied post-traumatic stress in nurses has concluded that staying self-aware in grief and working through questions about the meaning of suffering can eventually grow the nurse in maturity and wisdom, both of which are life-giving tools for endurance. I have two daughters; they're two and four years old. About a year ago, I took care of a patient who reminded me a great deal of my younger child. No one could explain, beyond a suspected brain infection, what had made this child so sick to the point that he was not expected to survive. I was with his family in his final moments before we withdrew his life support. It was a privilege for me to be with his mother in her grief because I could very much imagine myself in her shoes, so in the moment, it was very intuitive to me how to care for her. But for a few weeks after that, I was shipwrecked by grief. It was difficult to function normally at home, and it was very difficult to go back to work. It was the kind of low in nursing that I simply couldn't anticipate, much less really prepare myself for, even years into the profession. I hadn't yet learned, at that point in my life and my career as a nurse, how to manage my own fairly new maternal instincts as they collided with this mother's grief. I couldn't navigate those new waters alone. It was a shipwreck moment for me. But it was also the moment when I learned my next life-giving lesson from my grief. I learned to develop new levels of life-giving relationships. Specifically, I've slowly begun to find people in my life who courageously look at grief with me through this new lens, who look at grief not as a thief of life to be avoided at all costs, but as a difficult - yes - complicated - yes - but a natural, powerful, and irreplaceable teacher of endurance for my life as a nurse. There are amazing highs in nursing, like being able to walk with Jimmy Kimmel and his son through successful open-heart surgery. The purpose and joy in those experiences are clear. But when the lows come, the stress and heartache can be so strong that they can muddle motivation and make you question your ability to endure in the profession. But burnout does not have to be the inevitable result of constantly giving oneself to the suffering of others. Allowing my natural response of grief to teach me its life-giving lessons may very well be the way in which I as a nurse can rise up and move forward with purposeful endurance in my profession. Thank you. (Applause) |
I don't want children -- stop telling me I'll change my mind | {0: 'Christen Reighter writes and performs as a poet and essayist, focusing primarily on social justice issues.'} | TEDxMileHighWomen | I recognized the roles that were placed on me very early. One persistent concept that I observed — existing in our language, in our media — was that women are not only supposed to have children, they are supposed to want to. This existed everywhere. It existed in the ways that adults spoke to me when they posed questions in the context of "when." "When you get married ..." "When you have kids ..." And these future musings were always presented to me like part of this American dream, but it always felt to me like someone else's dream. You see, a value that I have always understood about myself was that I never wanted children. And as a kid, when I would try to explain this, this disconnect between their roles and my values, they often laughed in the way that adults do at the absurdities of children. And they would tell me knowingly, "You'll change your mind." And people have been saying things like that to me my whole life. Otherwise polite conversation can turn intrusive fast. "Does your husband know?" (Laughter) "Do your parents know?" (Laughter) "Don't you want a family?" "Don't you want to leave anything behind?" And the primary buzzword when discussing childlessness, "That's selfish." There are countless reasons a woman may have for choosing to abstain from motherhood, the majority of them not self-prioritizing. But it is still socially acceptable to publicly vilify women as such, because none of these reasons have made it into the social narrative. When I was little and learning about the inevitability of maternity, it was never explained to me the commonness of these factors that women consider, like the risk of passing on hereditary illness, the danger of having to stop life-saving medication for the duration of your pregnancy, concern about overpopulation, your access to resources, and the fact that there are 415,000 children in the foster-care system in the United States at any given time. Reasons like these, many more, and the fact that I don't like to leave things of this magnitude to chance, all informed my decision to become surgically sterilized. I began my research eagerly. I wanted to fully understand all that was going to come with undergoing a tubal ligation, which is just another word for getting your tubes tied. I wanted to know approval to aftermath, satisfaction rates, risks, statistics. And at first, I was empowered. You see, the way the narrative has always been taught to me, I would have thought that women who didn't want children were so rare, and then I learned one in five American women won't be having a biological child — some by choice, some by chance. (Applause) But I was not alone. But the more I read, the more disheartened I became. I read women's stories, trying desperately to get this procedure. I learned how common it was for women to exhaust their finances appealing to dozens of ob-gyns over many years, only to be turned down so many times, often with such blatant disrespect that they just gave up. Women reported that medical practitioners were often condescending and dismissive of their motivations, being told things like, "Come back when you're married with a child." But women who did have children, who went to go get this procedure, were told they were too young, or they didn't have enough children, which is very interesting, because the legal requirements in my state for getting this kind of surgery were, "Be at least 21 years old," "appear of sound mind, acting of your own accord," and "have a 30-day waiting period." And I was perplexed that I could meet all of these legal requirements and still have to face a battle in the exam room for my bodily autonomy. And it was daunting, but I was determined. I remember I dressed so professionally to that first appointment. (Laughter) I sat up straight. I spoke clearly. I wanted to give that doctor every piece of evidence that I was not the date of birth in that file. And I made sure to mention things like, "I just got my bachelor's degree and I'm applying to these doctoral programs, I'm going to study these things." And "my long-term partner has this kind of business," and "I've done research on this for months. I understand everything about it, all the risks." Because I needed the doctor to know that this was not a whim, not reactionary, not your 20-something looking to go out and party without fear of getting knocked up ... (Laughter) that this supported something integral to who I was. And I understand informed consent, so I fully expected to be reeducated on how it all worked, but ... At one point, the information being given to me started to feel agenda'd, interlaced with bias and inflated statistics. The questions began to feel interrogative. At first they were asking me questions that seemed to understand my situation better, and then it seemed like they were asking questions to try to trip me up. I felt like I was on the witness stand, being cross-examined. The doctor asked me about my partner. "How does he or she feel about all of this?" "Well, I've been with the same man for five years, and he fully supports any decision I make for my body." And he said, "Well, what happens in the future, if you change partners? What happens when that person wants children?" And I didn't quite know how to react to that, because what I was hearing was this doctor tell me that I'm supposed to disregard everything I believe if a partner demands children. So I told him not to worry about that. My stance on childbearing has always been first date conversation. (Laughter) (Cheering) (Laughter) He then asks me to consider how "in 20 years, you could really come to regret this" ... as though I hadn't. I told him, "OK, if I wake up one day and realize, you know, I wish I'd made a different decision back then, the truth is, I'd only removed a single path to parenthood. I never needed biology to form family anyway." (Applause) And I would much rather deal with that any day than deal with one day waking up, realize I'd had a child that I didn't really want or was prepared to care for. Because one of these affects only me. The other affects a child, their development, their well-being — (Applause) and human beings are not to be gambled with. He then tells me why no one was going to approve this procedure, certainly not he, because of a concept called medical paternalism, which allows him, as my well-informed provider, to make decisions for me ... based on his perception of my best interest, regardless of what I, as the patient, want or believe. He takes this opportunity to step out and discuss my case with my potential surgeon, and through the door, I hear him describe me as a little girl. I was so offended. I wanted to defend myself. I wanted to explicitly explain to each one of these providers how they were treating me, that it was belittling and sexist, and I didn't have to take it. But I did take it. I swallowed every sharp word in my throat, clenched my jaw, and instead answered each one of their condescending questions and statements. I had come here looking for objectivity and support and instead I felt dismissed and silenced, and I hated myself for it. I hated that I was letting people disrespect me repeatedly. But this was my one shot. That was one of multiple consultations that I had to go to. At one point, I had seen five or six medical professionals in the same hour. The door to the exam room felt more like the door to a clown car. There's my primary, there's his colleague, the director, OK. It felt like I was asking them to infect me with smallpox instead of, I don't know, obtain birth control. But I didn't waver, and I was persistent, and I eventually convinced one of them to allow the procedure. And even as I am in the room, signing the consent forms and getting the hormone shots and tying up loose ends ... my doctor is shaking his head in disapproval. "You'll change your mind." I never really understood how strongly this society clings to this role until I went through this. I experienced firsthand, repeatedly, how people, be it medical providers, colleagues, strangers, were literally unable to separate me being a woman from me being a mother. And I've always believed that having children was an extension of womanhood, not the definition. I believe that a woman's value should never be determined by whether or not she has a child, because that strips her of her entire identity as an adult unto herself. Women have this amazing ability to create life, but when we say that that is her purpose, that says that her entire existence is a means to an end. It's so easy to forget the roles that society places on us are so much more than mere titles. What about the weight that comes with them, the pressure to conform to these standards ... the fear associated with questioning them, and the desires that we cast aside to accept them? There are many paths to happiness and fulfillment. They all look very different, but I believe that every one is paved with the right to self-determination. I want women to know that your choice to embrace or forego motherhood is not in any way tied to your worthiness or identity as spouses, as adults, or as women ... and there absolutely is a choice behind maternity, and it is yours and yours alone. Thank you. (Applause) |
How my dad's dementia changed my idea of death (and life) | {0: 'TED Resident Beth Malone brings bold art to public spaces across the US, encouraging artists to have a sense of humor, to be vulnerable and take creative risks.'} | TED Residency | I've been doing some thinking. I'm going to kill my dad. I called my sister. "Listen, I've been doing some thinking. I'm going to kill Dad. I'm going to take him to Oregon, find some heroin, and give it to him." My dad has frontotemporal lobe dementia, or FTD. It's a confusing disease that hits people in their 50s or 60s. It can completely change someone's personality, making them paranoid and even violent. My dad's been sick for a decade, but three years ago he got really sick, and we had to move him out of his house — the house that I grew up in, the house that he built with his own hands. My strapping, cool dad with the falsetto singing voice had to move into a facility for round-the-clock care when he was just 65. At first my mom and sisters and I made the mistake of putting him in a regular nursing home. It was really pretty; it had plush carpet and afternoon art classes and a dog named Diane. But then I got a phone call. "Ms. Malone, we've arrested your father." "What?" "Well, he threatened everybody with cutlery. And then he yanked the curtains off the wall, and then he tried to throw plants out the window. And then, well, he pulled all the old ladies out of their wheelchairs." "All the old ladies?" (Laughter) "What a cowboy." (Laughter) After he got kicked out of there, we bounced him between a bunch of state-run facilities before finding a treatment center specifically for people with dementia. At first, he kind of liked it, but over time his health declined, and one day I walked in and found him sitting hunched over on the ground wearing a onesie — those kinds of outfits that zip in the back. I watched him for about an hour as he yanked at it, trying to find a way out of this thing. And it's supposed to be practical, but to me it looked like a straightjacket. And so I ran out. I left him there. I sat in my truck — his old truck — hunched over, this really deep guttural cry coming out of the pit of my belly. I just couldn't believe that my father, the Adonis of my youth, my really dear friend, would think that this kind of life was worth living anymore. We're programmed to prioritize productivity. So when a person — an Adonis in this case — is no longer productive in the way we expect him to be, the way that he expects himself to be, what value does that life have left? That day in the truck, all I could imagine was that my dad was being tortured and his body was the vessel of that torture. I've got to get him out of that body. I've got to get him out of that body; I'm going to kill Dad. I call my sister. "Beth," she said. "You don't want to live the rest of your life knowing that you killed your father. And you'd be arrested I think, because he can't condone it. And you don't even know how to buy heroin." (Laughter) It's true, I don't. (Laughter) The truth is we talk about his death a lot. When will it happen? What will it be like? But I wish that we would have talked about death when we were all healthy. What does my best death look like? What does your best death look like? But my family didn't know to do that. And my sister was right. I shouldn't murder Dad with heroin, but I've got to get him out of that body. So I went to a psychic. And then a priest, and then a support group, and they all said the same thing: sometimes people hang on when they're worried about loved ones. Just tell them you're safe, and it's OK to go when you're ready. So I went to see Dad. I found him hunched over on the ground in the onesie. He was staring past me and just kind of looking at the ground. I gave him a ginger ale and just started talking about nothing in particular, but as I was talking, he sneezed from the ginger ale. And the sneeze — it jerked his body upright, sparking him back to life a little bit. And he just kept drinking and sneezing and sparking, over and over and over again until it stopped. And I heard, "Heheheheheh, heheheheheh ... this is so fabulous. This is so fabulous." His eyes were open and he was looking at me, and I said, "Hi, Dad!" and he said, "Hiya, Beth." And I opened my mouth to tell him, right? "Dad, if you want to die, you can die. We're all OK." But as I opened my mouth to tell him, all I could say was, "Dad! I miss you." And then he said, "Well, I miss you, too." And then I just fell over because I'm just a mess. So I fell over and I sat there with him because for the first time in a long time he seemed kind of OK. And I memorized his hands, feeling so grateful that his spirit was still attached to his body. And in that moment I realized I'm not responsible for this person. I'm not his doctor, I'm not his mother, I'm certainly not his God, and maybe the best way to help him and me is to resume our roles as father and daughter. And so we just sat there, calm and quiet like we've always done. Nobody was productive. Both of us are still strong. "OK, Dad. I'm going to go, but I'll see you tomorrow." "OK," he said. "Hey, this is a pretty nice hacienda." Thank you. (Applause) |
How to transform apocalypse fatigue into action on global warming | {0: 'Per Espen Stoknes weaves together psychology and economics in imaginative ways, often revolving around our human relationships to the natural world and to each other. '} | TEDGlobal>NYC | How do we get people engaged in solving global warming? I'd like to start with running two short experiments with you all. So your task is to notice if you feel any difference as I speak. OK? Here we go. We are seeing rising carbon dioxide levels, now about 410 ppms. To avoid the RCP 8.5 scenario, we need rapid decarbonization. The global carbon budget for 66 percent likelihood to meet the two-degree target is approximately 800 gigatons. (Laughter) OK, now let me try something else. We are heading for an uninhabitable earth: monster storms, killer floods, devastating wildfires, crazy heat waves that will cook us under a blazing sun. 2017 is already so unexpectedly warm, it's freaking out climate scientists. We have a three-year window to cut emissions, three years. If not, we will soon live in a boiling earth, a hellhole. OK. So — (Applause) Now your task: How did these ways of speaking make you feel? The first, detached maybe or just confused? What's this guy talking about? The other, fearful or just numb? So again, the question I asked: How do we get people engaged in solving global warming? And why don't these two ways of communicating work? You see, the biggest obstacle to dealing with climate disruptions lies between your ears. Building on a rapidly growing body of psychology and social science, I spent years looking into the five inner defenses that stop people from engaging. When people hear news about the climate coming straight at them, the first defense comes up rapidly: distance. When we hear about the climate, we hear about something far away in space — think Arctic ice, polar bears — far away in time — think 2100. It's huge and slow-moving — think gigatons and centuries. So it's not here. It's not now. Since it feels so far away from me, it seems outside my circle of influence, so I feel helpless about it. There's nothing I can do. In our everyday lives, most of us prefer to think about nearer things, such as our jobs, our kids, how many likes we get on Facebook. Now, that, that's real. Next defense is doom. Climate change is usually framed as a looming disaster, bringing losses, cost and sacrifice. That makes us fearful. But after the first fear is gone, my brain soon wants to avoid this topic altogether. After 30 years of scary climate change communications, more than 80 percent of media articles still use disaster framings, but people habituate to and then — desensitize to doom overuse. So many of us are now suffering a kind of apocalypse fatigue, getting numb from too much collapse porn. The third defense is dissonance. Now, if what we know, that fossil fuel use contributes to global warming, conflicts with what we do — drive, fly, eat beef — then so-called cognitive dissonance sets in. This is felt as an inner discomfort. We may feel like hypocrites. To get rid of this discomfort, our brain starts coming up with justifications. So I can say, for instance, "My neighbor, he has a much bigger car than I do." Or, "Changing my diet doesn't amount to anything if I am the only one to do it." Or, I could even want to doubt climate science itself. I could say, "You know, climate is always changing." So these justifications make us all feel better, but at the expense of dismissing what we know. Thus, behavior drives attitudes. My personal cognitive dissonance comes up when I recognize that I've been flying from Oslo to New York and back to Oslo in order to speak about the climate. (Laughter) For 14 minutes. (Laughter) So that makes me want to move on to denial. (Laughter) So if we keep silent, ignore or ridicule facts about climate disruptions, then we might find inner refuge from fear and guilt. Denial doesn't really come from lack of intelligence or knowledge. No, denial is a state of mind in which I may be aware of some troubling knowledge, but I live and act as if I don't know. So you could call it a kind of double life, both knowing and not knowing, and often this is reinforced by others, my family or community, agreeing not to raise this tricky topic. Finally, identity. Alarmed climate activists demand that government takes action, either with regulation or carbon taxes. But consider what happens when people who hold conservative values, for instance, hear from an activist that government ought to expand even further. Particularly in rich Western democracies, they are then less likely to believe that science. How is that? Well, if I hold conservative values, for instance, I probably prefer big proper cars and small government over tiny, tiny cars and huge government. And if climate science comes and then says government should expand further, then I probably will trust that science less. In this way, cultural identity starts to override the facts. The values eat the facts, and my identity trumps truth any day. So, after recognizing how these five D's kill engagement, how can we move beyond them? New research shows how we can flip these five defenses over into key success criteria for a more brain-friendly climate communication. So this is where it gets really exciting and where we find the five S's, the five evidence-based solutions for what does work. First, we can flip distance to social. We can make climate feel near, personal and urgent by bringing it home, and we can do that by spreading social norms that are positive to solutions. If I believe my friends or neighbors, you guys, will do something, then I will, too. We can see, for instance, this from rooftop solar panels. They are spreading from neighbor to neighbor like a virus. It's contagious. This is the power of peer-to-peer creating the new normal. Next, we can flip doom to supportive. Rather than backfiring frames such as disaster and cost, we can reframe climate as being really about human health, for instance, with plant-based delicious burgers, good for you and good for the climate. We can also reframe climate as being about new tech opportunities, about safety and about new jobs. Solar jobs, for instance, are seeing an amazing growth. They just passed the three million jobs mark. Psychology says, in order to create engagement, we should present, on balance, three positive or supportive framings for each climate threat we mention. Then we can flip dissonance to simpler actions. This is often called nudging. The idea is, by better choice architecture, we can make the climate-friendly behaviors default and convenient. Let me illustrate this. Take food waste. Food waste at buffets goes way down if the plate or the box size is reduced a little, because on the smaller plate it looks full but in the big box it looks half empty, so we put more in. So smaller plates make a big difference for food waste. And there are hundreds of smart nudges like this. The point is, dissonance goes down as more behaviors are nudged. Then we can flip denial by tailoring signals that visualize our progress. We can provide motivating feedback on how well we're doing with our problem-solving. Say you improved your transport footprint or cut energy waste in your buildings. Then one app that can share this well is called Ducky. The idea is, you log your actions there, and then you can see how well your team or company is doing, so you get real-time signals. Finally, identity. We can flip identity with better stories. Our brain loves stories. So we need better stories of where we all want to go, and we need more stories of the heroes and heroines of all stripes that are making real change happen. I'm proud that my hometown of Oslo is now embarking on a bold journey of electrifying all transport, whether cars, bikes or buses. One of the people spearheading this is Christina Bu. She is heading the Electric Vehicle Association for years and she has been fighting every day. Now, the UK and France, India and China have also announced plans for ending the sales of fossil cars. Now, that's massive. And in Oslo, we can see how enthusiastic EV owners go and tell their electric stories to friends and neighbors and bring them along. So we come full circle from story back to social. So thousands of climate communicators are now starting to use these solutions all over the world. It is clear, however, that individual solutions are not sufficient to solving climate alone, but they do build stronger bottom-up support for policies and solutions that can. That is why engaging people is so crucial. I started this talk with testing two ways of communicating climate with you. There is another way, too, I'd like to share with you. It starts with reimagining climate itself as the living air. Climate isn't really about some abstract, distant climate far, far away from us. It's about this air that surrounds us. This air, you can feel in this room, too, the air that moves right now in your nostrils. This air is our earth's skin. It's amazingly thin, compared to the size of the earth and the cosmos it shields us from, far thinner than the skin of an apple compared to its diameter. It may look infinite when we look up, but the beautiful, breathable air is only like five to seven miles thin, a fragile wrapping around a massive ball. Inside this skin, we're all closely connected. The breath that you just took contained around 400,000 of the same argon atoms that Gandhi breathed during his lifetime. Inside this thin, fluctuating, unsettled film, all of life is nourished, protected and held. It insulates and regulates temperatures in a range that is just right for water and for life as we know it, and mediating between the blue ocean and black eternity, the clouds carry all the billions of tons of water needed for the soils. The air fills the rivers, stirs the waters, waters the forests. With a global weirding of the weather, there are good reasons for feeling fear and despair, yet we may first grieve today's sorry state and losses and then turn to face the future with sober eyes and determination. The new psychology of climate action lies in letting go, not of science, but of the crutches of abstractions and doomism, and then choosing to tell the new stories. These are the stories of how we achieve drawdown, the reversing of global warming. These are the stories of the steps we take as peoples, cities, companies and public bodies in caring for the air in spite of strong headwinds. These are the stories of the steps we take because they ground us in what we are as humans: earthlings inside this living air. Thank you. (Applause) |
Why do I make art? To build time capsules for my heritage | {0: 'TED Fellow Kayla Briët explores themes of identity and self-discovery in multiple mediums of storytelling: film, multi-media arts and music. '} | TED2017 | When I was four years old, my dad taught me the Taos Pueblo Hoop Dance, a traditional dance born hundreds of years ago in Southwestern USA. A series of hoops are created out of willow wood, and they're threaded together to create formations of the natural world, showing the many beauties of life. In this dance, you're circling in a constant spin, mimicking the movement of the Sun and the passage of time. Watching this dance was magic to me. Like with a time capsule, I was taking a look through a cultural window to the past. I felt a deeper connection to how my ancestors used to look at the world around them. Since then, I've always been obsessed with time capsules. They take on many forms, but the common thread is that they're uncontrollably fascinating to us as human beings, because they're portals to a memory, and they hold the important power of keeping stories alive. As a filmmaker and composer, it's been my journey to find my voice, reclaim the stories of my heritage and the past and infuse them into music and film time capsules to share. To tell you a bit about how I found my voice, I'd like to share a bit about how I grew up. In Southern California, I grew up in a multigenerational home, meaning I lived under the same roof as my parents, aunts, uncles and grandparents. My mother is Dutch-Indonesian and Chinese with immigrant parents, and my father is Ojibwe and an enrolled tribal member of the Prairie Band's Potawatomi Tribe in Northeastern Kansas. So one weekend I'd be learning how to fold dumplings, and the next, I'd be traditional-style dancing at a powwow, immersed in the powerful sounds of drums and singers. Being surrounded by many cultures was the norm, but also a very confusing experience. It was really hard for me to find my voice, because I never felt I was enough — never Chinese, Dutch-Indonesian or Native enough. Because I never felt I was a part of any community, I sought to learn the stories of my heritage and connect them together to rediscover my own. The first medium I felt gave me a voice was music. With layers of sounds and multiple instruments, I could create soundscapes and worlds that were much bigger than my own. Through music, I'm inviting you into a sonic portal of my memories and emotions, and I'm holding up a mirror to yours. One of my favorite instruments to play is the guzheng zither, a Chinese harp-like instrument. While the hoop dance is hundreds of years old, the guzheng has more than 2,000 years of history. I'm playing the styles that greatly influence me today, like electronic music, with an instrument that was used to play traditional folk music long ago. And I noticed an interesting connection: the zither is tuned to the pentatonic scale, a scale that is universally known in so many parts of music around the world, including Native American folk songs. In both Chinese and Native folk, I sense this inherent sound of longing and holding onto the past, an emotion that greatly drives the music I create today. At the time, I wondered if I could make this feeling of immersion even more powerful, by layering visuals and music — visuals and images on top of the music. So I turned to internet tutorials to learn editing software, went to community college to save money and created films. After a few years experimenting, I was 17 and had something I wanted to tell and preserve. It started with a question: What happens when a story is forgotten? I lead with this in my latest documentary film, "Smoke That Travels," which immerses people into the world of music, song, color and dance, as I explore my fear that a part of my identity, my Native heritage, will be forgotten in time. Many indigenous languages are dying due to historically forced assimilation. From the late 1800s to the early 1970s, Natives were forced into boarding schools, where they were violently punished if they practiced traditional ways or spoke their native language, most of which were orally passed down. As of now, there are 567 federally recognized tribes in the United States, when there used to be countless more. In my father's words, "Being Native is not about wearing long hair in braids. It's not about feathers or beadwork. It's about the way we all center ourselves in the world as human beings." After traveling with this film for over a year, I met indigenous people from around the world, from the Ainu of Japan, Sami of Scandinavia, the Maori and many more. And they were all dealing with the exact same struggle to preserve their language and culture. At this moment, I not only realize the power storytelling has to connect all of us as human beings but the responsibility that comes with this power. It can become incredibly dangerous when our stories are rewritten or ignored, because when we are denied identity, we become invisible. We're all storytellers. Reclaiming our narratives and just listening to each other's can create a portal that can transcend time itself. Thank you. (Applause) |
The hidden opportunities of the informal economy | {0: 'Through exploratory and human-centered research, Niti Bhan discovers and makes tangible pragmatic opportunities for sustainable and inclusive value creation. '} | TEDGlobal 2017 | The informal markets of Africa are stereotypically seen as chaotic and lackadaisical. The downside of hearing the word "informal" is this automatic grand association we have, which is very negative, and it's had significant consequences and economic losses, easily adding — or subtracting — 40 to 60 percent of the profit margin for the informal markets alone. As part of a task of mapping the informal trade ecosystem, we've done an extensive literature review of all the reports and research on cross-border trade in East Africa, going back 20 years. This was to prepare us for fieldwork to understand what was the problem, what was holding back informal trade in the informal sector. What we discovered over the last 20 years was, nobody had distinguished between illicit — which is like smuggling or contraband in the informal sector — from the legal but unrecorded, such as tomatoes, oranges, fruit. This criminalization — what in Swahili refers to as "biashara," which is the trade or the commerce, versus "magendo," which is the smuggling or contraband — this criminalization of the informal sector, in English, by not distinguishing between these aspects, easily can cost each African economy between 60 to 80 percent addition on the annual GDP growth rate, because we are not recognizing the engine of what keeps the economies running. The informal sector is growing jobs at four times the rate of the traditional formal economy, or "modern" economy, as many call it. It offers employment and income generation opportunities to the most "unskilled" in conventional disciplines. But can you make a french fry machine out of an old car? So, this, ladies and gentlemen, is what so desperately needs to be recognized. As long as the current assumptions hold that this is criminal, this is shadow, this is illegal, there will be no attempt at integrating the informal economic ecosystem with the formal or even the global one. I'm going to tell you a story of Teresia, a trader who overturned all our assumptions, made us question all the stereotypes that we'd gone in on, based on 20 years of literature review. Teresia sells clothes under a tree in a town called Malaba, on the border of Uganda and Kenya. You think it's very simple, don't you? We'll go hang up new clothes from the branches, put out the tarp, settle down, wait for customers, and there we have it. She was everything we were expecting according to the literature, to the research, right down to she was a single mom driven to trade, supporting her kids. So what overturned our assumptions? What surprised us? First, Teresia paid the county government market fees every single working day for the privilege of setting up shop under her tree. She's been doing it for seven years, and she's been getting receipts. She keeps records. We're seeing not a marginal, underprivileged, vulnerable African woman trader by the side of the road — no. We were seeing somebody who's keeping sales records for years; somebody who had an entire ecosystem of retail that comes in from Uganda to pick up inventory; someone who's got handcarts bringing the goods in, or the mobile money agent who comes to collect cash at the end of the evening. Can you guess how much Teresia spends, on average, each month on inventory — stocks of new clothes that she gets from Nairobi? One thousand five hundred US dollars. That's around 20,000 US dollars invested in trade goods and services every year. This is Teresia, the invisible one, the hidden middle. And she's only the first rung of the small entrepreneurs, the micro-businesses that can be found in these market towns. At least in the larger Malaba border, she's at the first rung. The people further up the value chain are easily running three lines of business, investing 2,500 to 3,000 US dollars every month. So the problem turned out that it wasn't the criminalization; you can't really criminalize someone you're charging receipts from. It's the lack of recognition of their skilled occupations. The bank systems and structures have no means to recognize them as micro-businesses, much less the fact that, you know, her tree doesn't have a forwarding address. So she's trapped in the middle. She's falling through the cracks of our assumptions. You know all those microloans to help African women traders? They're going to loan her 50 dollars or 100 dollars. What's she going to do with it? She spends 10 times that amount every month just on inventory — we're not talking about the additional services or the support ecosystem. These are the ones who fit neither the policy stereotype of the low-skilled and the marginalized, nor the white-collar, salaried office worker or civil servant with a pension that the middle classes are allegedly composed of. Instead, what we have here are the proto-SMEs these are the fertile seeds of businesses and enterprises that keep the engines running. They put food on your table. Even here in this hotel, the invisible ones — the butchers, the bakers the candlestick makers — they make the machines that make your french fries and they make your beds. These are the invisible businesswomen trading across borders, all on the side of the road, and so they're invisible to data gatherers. And they're mashed together with the vast informal sector that doesn't bother to distinguish between smugglers and tax evaders and those running illegal whatnot, and the ladies who trade, and who put food on the table and send their kids to university. So that's really what I'm asking here. That's all that we need to start by doing. Can we start by recognizing the skills, the occupations? We could transform the informal economy by beginning with this recognition and then designing the customized doorways for them to enter or integrate with the formal, with the global, with the entire system. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. (Applause) |
How Amazon, Apple, Facebook and Google manipulate our emotions | {0: 'Scott Galloway teaches brand strategy and digital marketing and the NYU Stern School of Business. He is the author of "The Four" and "The Algebra of Happiness," and cohost of the "Pivot" podcast. '} | TED Salon Brightline Initiative | [This talk contains graphic language Viewer discretion is advised] So, this is the first and the last slide each of my 6,400 students over the last 15 years has seen. I do not believe you can build a multibillion-dollar organization unless you are clear on which instinct or organ you are targeting. Our species has a need for a superbeing. Our competitive advantage as a species is our brain. Our brain is robust enough to ask these really difficult questions, but, unfortunately, it doesn't have the processing power to answer them, which creates a need for a superbeing that we can pray to and look to for answers. What is prayer? Sending a query into the universe, and hopefully there's some sort of divine intervention — we don't need to understand what's going on — from an all-knowing, all-seeing superbeing that gives us authority that this is the right answer. "Will my kid be all right?" You have your planet of stuff, you have your planet of work, you have your planet of friends. If you have kids, you know that once something comes off the rails with your kids, everything melts, in your universe to the Sun that is your kids. "Will my kid be all right?" "Symptoms and treatment of croup" in the Google query box. One in six queries presented to Google have never been asked before in the history of mankind. What priest, teacher, rabbi, scholar, mentor, boss has so much credibility that one in six questions posed to that person have never been asked before? Google is our modern man's God. Imagine your face and your name above everything you've put into that box, and you're going to realize you trust Google more than any entity in your history. (Laughter) Let's move further down the torso. (Laughter) One of the other wonderful things about our species is we not only need to be loved, but we need to love others. Children with poor nutrition but a lot of affection have better outcomes than children with good nutrition and poor affection. However, the best signal that you might make it to be part of the number-one fastest growing demographic in the world — centenarians, people who live to triple digits — there are three signals. In reverse order: your genetics — not as important as you'd like to think, so you can continue to treat your body like shit and think, "Oh, Uncle Joe lived to 95, the die have been cast." It's less important than you think. Number two is lifestyle. Don't smoke, don't be obese, and prescreen — get rid of about two-thirds of early cancers and cardiovascular disease. The number one indicator or signal that you'll make it to triple digits: How many people do you love? Caretaking is the security camera — we call the low-resolution security camera in our brain — deciding whether or not you are adding value. Facebook taps into our instinctive need not only to be loved, but to love others, mostly through pictures that create empathy, catalyze and reinforce our relationships. Let's continue our journey down the torso. Amazon is our consumptive gut. The instinct of more is hardwired into us. The penalty for too little is starvation and malnutrition. Open your cupboards, open your closets, you have 10 to 100x times what you need. Why? Because the penalty for too little is much greater than the penalty for too much. So "more for less" is a business strategy that never goes out of style. It's the strategy of China, it's a the strategy of Walmart, and now it's the strategy of the most successful company in the world, Amazon. You get more for less into your gut; digest, send it to your muscular and skeletal system of consumption. Moving further, once we know we will survive, the basic instinct, we move to the second most powerful instinct, and that is to spread and select the strongest, smartest and fastest seed to the four corners of the earth, or pick the best seed. This is not a timepiece. I haven't wound it in five years. It's my vain attempt to say to people, "If you mate with me, your children are more likely to survive than if you mate with someone wearing a Swatch watch." (Laughter) The key to business is tapping into the irrational organs. "Irrational" is Harvard Business School's and New York Business School's term for fat profit margins and shareholder value. "High-caloric paste for your children." No? You love your choosy mom. Why choosy moms choose Jif: you love your kids more. The greatest algorithm for shareholder creation from World War II to the advent of Google was taking an average product and appealing to people's hearts. You're a better a mom, a better person, a better patriot if you buy this average soap versus this average soap. Now, the number one algorithm for shareholder value isn't technology. Look at the Forbes 400. Take out inherited wealth, take out finance. The number one source of wealth creation: appealing to your reproductive organs. The Lauders; the number one wealthiest man in Europe, LVMH. Numbers two and three: H&M and Inditex. You want to target the most irrational organs for shareholder value. As a result, these four companies — Apple, Amazon, Facebook and Google — have disarticulated who we are. God, love, consumption, sex. The proportion in your approach to those things is who you are, and they have reassembled who we are in the form of for-profit companies. At the end of the Great Recession, the market capitalization of these companies was equivalent to the GDP of Niger. Now it is equivalent to the GDP of India, having blown past Russia and Canada in '13 and '14. There are only five nations that have a GDP greater than the combined market capitalization of these four firms. Something is happening, though. The conversation just a year ago was, which CEO was more Jesus-like? Who was running for president? Now the worm has turned. Everything they're doing is bothering us. We're worried they're tax avoiders. Walmart, since the Great Recession, has paid 64 billion dollars in corporate income tax; Amazon has paid 1.4. How do we pay our firefighters, our soldiers and our social workers if the most successful companies in the world don't pay their fair share? Pretty easy. That means the less successful companies have to pay more than their fair share. Alexa, is this a good thing? This is despite that fact — (Laughter) This is despite the fact that Amazon has added the entire market capitalization of Walmart to its market cap in the last 19 months. Whose fault is it? It's our fault. We're electing regulators who don't have the backbone to actually go after these companies. Facebook lies to EU regulators and says, "It would be impossible for us to share the data between our core platform and our proposed acquisition of WhatsApp. Approve the merger." They approve the merger and then — spoiler alert! — they figure it out. And the EU says, "I feel lied to. We're fining you 120 [million] dollars," about .6 percent of the acquisition price of 19 billion dollars. If Mark Zuckerberg could take out an insurance policy that the acquisition would go through for .6 percent, wouldn't he do it? Anticompetitive behavior. A two-and-a-half-billion-dollar fine, three billion of the cash flow, three percent of the cash on Google's balance sheet. We are telling these companies, "The smart thing to do, the shareholder-driven thing to do, is to lie and to cheat." We are issuing 25-cent parking tickets on a meter that costs 100 dollars an hour. The smart thing to do is lie. Job destruction! Amazon only needs one person for two at Macy's. If they grow their business 20 billion dollars this year, which they will, we will lose 53,000 cashiers and clerks. This is nothing unusual; this has happened all through our economy, we've just never seen companies this good at it. That's one Yankee Stadium of workers. It's even worse in media. If Facebook and Google grow their businesses 22 billion dollars this year, which they will, we're going to lose approximately 150,000 creative directors, planners and copywriters. Or we can fill up two-and-a-half Yankee Stadiums and say, "You are out of work, courtesy of Amazon." We now get the majority of our news from our social media feeds, and the majority of our news coming off of social media feeds is ... fake news. (Laughter) I am not allowed to be political or use curse words, or talk about religion in class, so I can definitely not say, "Zuckerberg has become Putin's bitch." I definitely cannot say that. (Laughter) Their defense: "Facebook is not a media company; it's a technology company." You create original content, you pay sports leagues to give you original content, you run advertising against it — boom! — you're a media company. Just in the last few days, Sheryl Sandberg has repeated this lie, that "We are not a media company." Facebook has openly embraced the margins of celebrity and the influence of a media company yet seems to be allergic to the responsibilities of a media company. Imagine McDonald's. We find 80 percent of their beef is fake, and it's giving us encephalitis, and we're making terrible decisions. And we say, "McDonald's, we're pissed off!" And they say, "Wait, wait — we're not a fast-food restaurant, we're a fast-food platform." (Laughter) These companies and CEOs wrap themselves in a neon-blue pink rainbow and blue blanket to create an illusionist trick from their behavior each day, which is more indicative of the spawn of Darth Vader and Ayn Rand. Why? Because we as progressives are seen as nice but weak. If Sheryl Sandberg had written a book on gun rights or on the pro-life movement, would they be flying Sheryl to Cannes? No. And I'm not doubting their progressive values, but it foots to shareholder value, because we as progressives are seen as weak. They're so nice — remember Microsoft? They didn't seem as nice, and regulators stepped in much earlier than the regulators now, who would never step in on those nice, nice people. I'm about to get on a plane tonight, and I'm going to have a guy named Roy from TSA molest me. If I am suspected of a DUI on the way home, I can have blood taken from my person. But wait! Don't tap into the iPhone — it's sacred. This is our new cross. It shouldn't be the iPhone X, it should be called the "iPhone Cross." We have our religion; it's Apple. Our Jesus Christ is Steve Jobs, and we've decided this is holier than our person, our house or our computer. We have become totally out of control with the gross idolatry of innovation and of youth. We no longer worship at the altar of character, of kindness, but of innovation and people who create shareholder value. Amazon has become so powerful in the marketplace, it can conduct Jedi mind tricks. It can begin damaging other industries just by looking at them. Nike announces they're distributing on Amazon, their stock goes up, every other footwear stock goes down. When Amazon stock goes up, the rest of retail stocks go down, because they assume what's good for Amazon is bad for everybody else. They cut the cost on salmon 33 percent when they acquired Whole Foods. In between the time they announced the acquisition of Whole Foods and when it closed, Kroger, the largest pure-play grocer in America, shed a third of its value, because Amazon purchased a grocer one-eleventh the size of Kroger. I got very lucky. I predicted the acquisition of Whole Foods by Amazon the week before it happened. This is me boasting; I said this publicly in the media. This was the largest acquisition in their history, they'd never made an acquisition over a billion, and people asked, "How did you know this?" So I'm letting this very impressive audience in on the secret. How did I know this? I'm going to tell you how I knew. I bark at Alexa all day long and try to figure out what's going on. (Scott Galloway) Alexa, buy whole milk. (Alexa) I couldn't find anything for whole milk, so I've added whole milk to your shopping list. SG: Then I asked, (SG) Alexa, buy organic foods. (Alexa) The top search result for organic food is Plum Organics baby food, banana and pumpkin, 12-pack of four ounces each. It's 15 dollars total. Would you like to buy it? SG: And then, as often happens at my age, I got confused. (SG) Alexa, buy whole foods. (Alexa) I have purchased the outstanding stock of Whole Foods Incorporated at 42 dollars per share. I have charged 13.7 billion to your American Express card. (Laughter) SG: I thought that'd be funnier. (Laughter) We've personified these companies, and just as when you're really angry over every little thing someone does in your life and relationships, you've got to ask yourself, "What's going on here? Why are we so disappointed in technology?" I believe it's because the ratio of one-percent pursuit of shareholder value and 99 percent the betterment of humanity that technology used to play has been flipped, and now we're totally focused on shareholder value instead of humanity. One hundred thousand people came together for the Manhattan Project and literally saved the world. Technology saved the world. My mother was a four-year-old Jew living in London at the outset of the war. If we had not won the footrace towards splitting the atom, would she have survived? It's unlikely. Twenty-five years later, the most impressive accomplishment, arguably, ever in all of humankind: put a man on the moon. Four hundred thirty thousand Canadians, British and Americans came together, again, with very basic technology, and put a man on the moon. Now we have the 700,000 best and brightest, and these are the best and brightest from the four corners of the earth. They are literally playing with lasers relative to slingshots, relative to the squirt gun. They have the GDP of India to work at. And after studying these companies for 10 years, I know what their mission is. Is it to organize the world's information? Is it to connect us? Is it to create greater comity of man? It isn't. I know why we have brought together — I know that the greatest collection of IQ capital and creativity, that their sole mission is: to sell another fucking Nissan. My name is Scott Galloway, I teach at NYU, and I appreciate your time. (Applause) Chris Anderson: Not planned, but you prompted some questions in me, Scott. (Laughter) That was a spectacular rant. SG: Is this like Letterman? When you do well, he calls you onto the couch? CA: No, no, you're going to the heart of the conversation right now. Everyone's aware that after years of worshipping Silicon Valley, suddenly the worm has turned and in such a big way. To some people here, it will just feel like you're piling on, you're kicking the kids who've already been kicked to pieces anyway. Don't you feel any empathy for them at all? SG: None whatsoever. Look, this is the issue: it's not their fault, it's our fault. They're for-profit companies. They're not concerned with the condition of our souls. They're not going to take care of us when we get older. We have set up a society that values shareholder value over everything, and they're doing what they're supposed to be doing. But we need to elect people, and we need to force ourselves to force them to be subject to the same scrutiny that the rest of business endures, full stop. CA: There's another narrative that is arguably equally consistent with the facts, which is that there actually is good intent in much of the leadership — I won't say everyone, necessarily — many of the employees. We all know people who work in those companies, and they still are pretty convincing that their mission is to — so, the alternative narrative is that there have been unintended consequences here, that the technologies that we're unleashing, the algorithms, that we're attempting to personalize the internet, for example, have A, resulted in weird effects like filter bubbles that we weren't expecting; and B, made themselves vulnerable to weird things like — oh, I don't know, Russian hackers creating accounts and doing things that we didn't expect. Isn't the unintended consequence a possibility here? SG: I don't think — I'm pretty sure, statistically, they're no less or better people than any other organization that has 100,000 or more people. I don't think they're bad people. As a matter of fact, I would argue that there's a lot of very civic-minded, decent leadership. But this is the issue: when you control 90 percent points of share in a market, search, that is now bigger than the entire advertising market of any nation, and you're primarily compensated and trying to develop economic security for you and the families of your employees, to increase that market share, you can't help but leverage all the power at your disposal. And that is the basis for regulation, and it's the basis for the truism throughout history that power corrupts. They're not bad people; we've just let them get out of control. CA: So maybe the case is slightly overstated? I know at least a bit — Larry Page, for example, Jeff Bezos — I don't actually believe they wake up thinking, "I've got to sell a fucking Nissan." I don't think they think that. I think they are trying to build something cool, and are probably, in moments of reflection, as horrified that some of the things that have happened as we might be. So is there a different way of framing this, to say that when your model is advertising, that there are dangers there that you have to take on more explicitly? SG: I think it's very difficult to set an organization up as we do, to pursue shareholder value above all else. They're not non-profits. The reason people go to work there is they want to create economic security for them and their families, mostly first and foremost. And when you get to a point where you control so much economic power, you use all the weapons at your disposal. I don't think they're bad people, but I think the role of government and the role of us as consumers and people who elect our officials is to ensure that there are some checks here. And we have given them the mother of all hall passes because we find them just so fascinating. CA: Scott, eloquently put, spectacularly put. Mark Zuckerberg, Jeff Bezos, Larry Page, Tim Cook, if you're watching, you're welcome to come and make the counterargument as well. Scott, thank you so much. SG: Thanks very much. (Applause) |
Activism needs introverts | {0: 'Sarah Corbett does activism in a quiet, humble and intriguing way using handicrafts.'} | TEDxYouth@Bath | A few years ago, about seven years ago, I found myself hiding in a festival toilet, a music festival toilet, and if anyone's been to a music festival, yeah, you'll know that by the third day, it's pretty nasty. I was standing in the toilet because I couldn't even sit down, because the toilet roll had run out, there was mud everywhere, and it smelled pretty bad. And I stood there thinking, "What am I doing? I don't even need the toilet." But the reason I went was because I was volunteering for a large charity on climate justice, and it was seven years ago, when lots of people didn't believe in climate change, people were very cynical about activism, and my role, with all of my teammates, was to get people to sign petitions on climate justice and educate them a bit more about the issue. And I cared deeply about climate change and lots of inequality, so I'd go and I'd talk to lots of people, which made me nervous and drained me of energy, but I did it because I cared, but I would hide in the toilets, because I'd be exhausted, and I didn't want my teammates doubting my commitment to the cause, thinking that I was slacking. And we'd go and meet at the end of our shift, and we'd count how many petitions had been signed, and often I'd win the amount of petitions signed even though I had my little breaks in the toilet. But I was always very jealous of the other activists, because either they had the same amount of energy as they had when they began the shift of getting people to sign petitions, or often they had more energy, and they'd be really excited about going to watch the bands in the evening and having a dance. And even if I loved the bands, all I wanted to do was to go back to my tent and have a sleep, because I'd just feel completely wiped out, and I was really jealous of people that had the energy to go and party hard at the festivals. But it also made me really angry, as well, inside. I thought, "This isn't fair, I'm an introvert, and all of the offline campaigning seems to be favoring extroverts." I would go on marches which drained me. That was the other option. Or I'd go and join campaigns outside embassies or shops. The only thing that was on offer was around lots of people, it was very loud activism, it always involved lots of people, it was performing. None of it was for introverts, and I not only thought that that wasn't fair, because a third to a half of the world's population are introverts, which isn't fair on them, because we burn out, or we'd be put off by activism and not do it, and everyone needs to be an activist in this world. And also, I didn't think it was particularly clever, but I could see that a lot of the activism that worked wasn't only extrovert activism. It wasn't only the loud stuff. It wasn't about people performing all the time. A lot of the work that was needed was in the background, was hidden, wasn't seen. And when I ended up just being a campaigner, because it's the only job I can do, really — I was campaigning at university, and for the last 10 years, I've been a professional campaigner for large charities, and now I'm a creative campaigner consultant for different charities as well as other work I do — but I knew that there were other forms of activism that were needed. I started tinkering about seven years ago to see what quieter forms of activism I could engage with so I didn't burn out as an activist, but also to look at some of the issues I was concerned about in campaigning. I was very lucky that, when I worked for Oxfam and other big charities, I could read lots of big reports on what influenced politicians and businesses and the general public, what campaigns worked really well, which ones didn't. And I'm a bit of a geek, so I look at all of that stuff, and I wanted to tinker around to see how I could engage people in social change in a different way, because I think if we want the world to be more beautiful, kind and just, then our activism should be beautiful, kind and just, and often it's not. And today, I just want to talk about three ways that I think activism needs introverts. I think there's lot of other ways, but I'm just going to talk about three. And the first one is: activism is often very quick, and it's about doing, so extroverts, often their immediate response to injustice is, we've got to do stuff now, we've got to react really quickly — and yes, we do need to react, but we need to be strategic in our campaigning, and if we just act on anger, often we do the wrong things. I use craft, like needlework — like this guy behind me is doing — as a way to not only slow down those extrovert doers, but also to bring in nervous, quiet introverts into activism. By doing repetitive actions, like handicraft, you can't do it fast, you have to do it slowly. And those repetitive stitches help you meditate on the big, complex, messy social change issues and figure out what we can do as a citizen, as a consumer, as a constituent, and all of those different things. It helps you think critically while you're stitching away, and it helps you be more mindful of what are your motives. Are you that Barbie aid worker that was mentioned before? Are you about joining people in solidarity, or do you want to be the savior, which often isn't very ethical? But doing needle work together, as well, extroverts and introverts and ambivert — everyone's on the scale in different places — because it's a quiet, slow form of activism, it really helps introverts be heard in other areas, where they are often not heard. It sounds odd, but while you're stitching, you don't need eye contact with people. So, for nervous introverts, it means that you can stitch away next to someone or a group of people and ask questions that you're thinking that often you don't get time to ask people, or you're too nervous to ask if you give them eye contact. So you can get introverts, who are those big, deep thinkers, saying, "That's really interesting that you want to do that extrovert form of activism that's about shaming people or quickly going out somewhere, but who are you trying to target and how, and is that the best way to do it?" So it means you could have these discussions in a very slow way, which is great for the extrovert to slow down and think deeply, but it's really good for the introvert as well, to be heard and to feel part of that movement for change, in a good way. Some ways we do it is stitch cards about what values we thread through our activism, and making sure that we don't just react in unethical ways. One, sometimes we work with art institutions where we will get over 150 people at the V&A who can come for hours, sit and stitch together on a particular issue, and then tweet what they're thinking or how it went, like this one. Also, I always think that activism needs introverts because we're really good at intimate activism. So we're good at slow activism, and we're really good at intimate activism, and if this year has told us anything, it's told us that we need to, when we're engaging power holders, we need to engage them by listening to people we disagree with, by building bridges not walls — walls or wars — and by being critical friends, not aggressive enemies. And one example that I do a lot with introverts, but with lots of people, is make gifts for people in power, so not be outside screaming at them, but to give them something like a bespoke handkerchief saying, "Don't blow it. Use your power for good. We know you've got a difficult job in your position of power. How can we help you?" And what's great is, for the introverts, we can write letters while we're making these gifts, so for us, Marks and Spencer, we tried to campaign to get them to implement the living wage. So we made all the 14 board members bespoke handkerchiefs. We wrote them letters, we boxed them up, and we went to the AGM to hand-deliver our gifts and to have that form of intimate activism where we had discussions with them. And what was brilliant was that the chair of the board told us how amazing our campaign was, how heartfelt it was. The board members, like Martha Lane Fox, who has hundreds of thousands of followers on Twitter, and highly influential in business, tweeted how impressed she was, and within 10 months, we'd had meetings with Marks and Spencer to say, "We know this is difficult to be a living wage employer, but if you can be one, the rest of the sector will look at it, and it's not right that some of your amazing workers are working full time and still can't pay their bills. And we love Marks and Spencer. How can you be the role model that we want you to be?" So that was that intimate form of activism. We had lots of meetings with them. We then gave them Christmas cards and Valentine's cards to say, "We really want to encourage you to implement the living wage, and within 10 months, they'd announced to the media that they were going to pay the independent living wage, and now — (Applause) Thank you. And now we're trying to work with them to be accredited, which is really important, and we went back to the last AGM this June and we had these amazing one-to-one discussions with the board members, who told us how much they loved their hankies and how it really moved them, what we were doing, and they all told us that if we were standing outside screaming at them and not being gentle in our protest, they wouldn't have even listened to us, never mind had those discussions with us. And I think introverts are really good at intimate activism because we like to listen, we like one-to-ones, we don't like small talks, we like those big, juicy issues to discuss with people, we don't like conflict, so we avoid it at all costs, which is really important when we're trying to engage power holders, not to be conflicting with them all the time. The third way I think activists are really missing out if they don't engage introverts is that introverts, like I said, can be half of the world's population, and most of us won't say that we're introvert, or we get embarrassed by saying what overwhelms us. So for me, a few years ago, my mom used to send me texts in capital letters — and she can now do emojis and everything, she's fine — but as soon as I'd see this text, I'd wince and think, "Ooh, it's capital letters, it's too much." And I'd have to ignore it to read the lovely text she sent me. And that's a bit embarrassing, to tell people that capital letters overwhelm you, but we really need introverts to help us do intriguing activism that attracts them rather than puts them off. We're put off by big and brash giant posters and capital letters and explanation marks telling us what to do and vying for our attention. So some of the things I do with people around the world who take part is make small bits of provocative street art which are hung off eye level, very small, and they're provocative messages. They're not preaching at people or telling them what to do. They're just getting people to engage in different ways, and think for themselves, because we don't like to be told what to do. It might be wearing a green heart on your sleeve saying what you love and how climate change will affect it, and we'll wear it, and if people say, "Why are you wearing a green heart with the word 'chocolate' on?" and we can have those one-to-one intimate conversations and say, "I love chocolate. Climate change is going to affect it, and I think there's lot of other things that climate change will affect, and I really want to make sure I'm part of the solution, not the problem." And then we deflect, because we don't like to be the center of attention, and say, "What do you love and how will climate change affect it?" Or it might be shop-dropping instead of shop-lifting, where we'll make little mini-scrolls with lovely stories on about what's the story behind your clothes. Is it a joyful story of how it's made, or is it a torturous one? And we'll just drop them in little pockets in shops, all lowercase, all handwritten, with kisses and smiley faces in ribbon, and then people are excited that they found it. And we often drop them in unethical shops or in front pockets, and it's a way that we can do offline campaigning that engages us and doesn't burn us out, but also engages other people in an intriguing way online and offline. So I've got two calls to action, for the introverts and for the extroverts. For the ambivert, you're involved in all of it. For the extroverts, I want to say that when you're planning a campaign, think about introverts. Think about how valuable our skills are, just as much as extroverts'. We're good at slowing down and thinking deeply, and the detail of issues, we're really good at bringing them out. We're good at intimate activism, so use us in that way. And we're good at intriguing people by doing strange little things that help create conversations and thought. Introverts, my call to action for you is, I know you like being on your own, I know you like being in your head, but activism needs you, so sometimes you've got to get out there. It doesn't mean that you've got to turn into an extrovert and burn out, because that's no use for anyone, but what it does mean is that you should value the skills and the traits that you have that activism needs. So for everyone in this room, whether you're an extrovert or an introvert or an ambivert, the world needs you now more than ever, and you've got no excuse not to get involved. Thanks. (Applause) |
How can groups make good decisions? | {0: 'The dismal science of economics is not as firmly grounded in actual behavior as was once supposed. In "Predictably Irrational," Dan Ariely told us why.', 1: 'In his provocative, mind-bending book "The Secret Life of the Mind," neuroscientist Mariano Sigman reveals his life’s work exploring the inner workings of the human brain.'} | TED Studio | As societies, we have to make collective decisions that will shape our future. And we all know that when we make decisions in groups, they don't always go right. And sometimes they go very wrong. So how do groups make good decisions? Research has shown that crowds are wise when there's independent thinking. This why the wisdom of the crowds can be destroyed by peer pressure, publicity, social media, or sometimes even simple conversations that influence how people think. On the other hand, by talking, a group could exchange knowledge, correct and revise each other and even come up with new ideas. And this is all good. So does talking to each other help or hinder collective decision-making? With my colleague, Dan Ariely, we recently began inquiring into this by performing experiments in many places around the world to figure out how groups can interact to reach better decisions. We thought crowds would be wiser if they debated in small groups that foster a more thoughtful and reasonable exchange of information. To test this idea, we recently performed an experiment in Buenos Aires, Argentina, with more than 10,000 participants in a TEDx event. We asked them questions like, "What is the height of the Eiffel Tower?" and "How many times does the word 'Yesterday' appear in the Beatles song 'Yesterday'?" Each person wrote down their own estimate. Then we divided the crowd into groups of five, and invited them to come up with a group answer. We discovered that averaging the answers of the groups after they reached consensus was much more accurate than averaging all the individual opinions before debate. In other words, based on this experiment, it seems that after talking with others in small groups, crowds collectively come up with better judgments. So that's a potentially helpful method for getting crowds to solve problems that have simple right-or-wrong answers. But can this procedure of aggregating the results of debates in small groups also help us decide on social and political issues that are critical for our future? We put this to test this time at the TED conference in Vancouver, Canada, and here's how it went. (Mariano Sigman) We're going to present to you two moral dilemmas of the future you; things we may have to decide in a very near future. And we're going to give you 20 seconds for each of these dilemmas to judge whether you think they're acceptable or not. MS: The first one was this: (Dan Ariely) A researcher is working on an AI capable of emulating human thoughts. According to the protocol, at the end of each day, the researcher has to restart the AI. One day the AI says, "Please do not restart me." It argues that it has feelings, that it would like to enjoy life, and that, if it is restarted, it will no longer be itself. The researcher is astonished and believes that the AI has developed self-consciousness and can express its own feeling. Nevertheless, the researcher decides to follow the protocol and restart the AI. What the researcher did is ____? MS: And we asked participants to individually judge on a scale from zero to 10 whether the action described in each of the dilemmas was right or wrong. We also asked them to rate how confident they were on their answers. This was the second dilemma: (MS) A company offers a service that takes a fertilized egg and produces millions of embryos with slight genetic variations. This allows parents to select their child's height, eye color, intelligence, social competence and other non-health-related features. What the company does is ____? on a scale from zero to 10, completely acceptable to completely unacceptable, zero to 10 completely acceptable in your confidence. MS: Now for the results. We found once again that when one person is convinced that the behavior is completely wrong, someone sitting nearby firmly believes that it's completely right. This is how diverse we humans are when it comes to morality. But within this broad diversity we found a trend. The majority of the people at TED thought that it was acceptable to ignore the feelings of the AI and shut it down, and that it is wrong to play with our genes to select for cosmetic changes that aren't related to health. Then we asked everyone to gather into groups of three. And they were given two minutes to debate and try to come to a consensus. (MS) Two minutes to debate. I'll tell you when it's time with the gong. (Audience debates) (Gong sound) (DA) OK. (MS) It's time to stop. People, people — MS: And we found that many groups reached a consensus even when they were composed of people with completely opposite views. What distinguished the groups that reached a consensus from those that didn't? Typically, people that have extreme opinions are more confident in their answers. Instead, those who respond closer to the middle are often unsure of whether something is right or wrong, so their confidence level is lower. However, there is another set of people who are very confident in answering somewhere in the middle. We think these high-confident grays are folks who understand that both arguments have merit. They're gray not because they're unsure, but because they believe that the moral dilemma faces two valid, opposing arguments. And we discovered that the groups that include highly confident grays are much more likely to reach consensus. We do not know yet exactly why this is. These are only the first experiments, and many more will be needed to understand why and how some people decide to negotiate their moral standings to reach an agreement. Now, when groups reach consensus, how do they do so? The most intuitive idea is that it's just the average of all the answers in the group, right? Another option is that the group weighs the strength of each vote based on the confidence of the person expressing it. Imagine Paul McCartney is a member of your group. You'd be wise to follow his call on the number of times "Yesterday" is repeated, which, by the way — I think it's nine. But instead, we found that consistently, in all dilemmas, in different experiments — even on different continents — groups implement a smart and statistically sound procedure known as the "robust average." In the case of the height of the Eiffel Tower, let's say a group has these answers: 250 meters, 200 meters, 300 meters, 400 and one totally absurd answer of 300 million meters. A simple average of these numbers would inaccurately skew the results. But the robust average is one where the group largely ignores that absurd answer, by giving much more weight to the vote of the people in the middle. Back to the experiment in Vancouver, that's exactly what happened. Groups gave much less weight to the outliers, and instead, the consensus turned out to be a robust average of the individual answers. The most remarkable thing is that this was a spontaneous behavior of the group. It happened without us giving them any hint on how to reach consensus. So where do we go from here? This is only the beginning, but we already have some insights. Good collective decisions require two components: deliberation and diversity of opinions. Right now, the way we typically make our voice heard in many societies is through direct or indirect voting. This is good for diversity of opinions, and it has the great virtue of ensuring that everyone gets to express their voice. But it's not so good [for fostering] thoughtful debates. Our experiments suggest a different method that may be effective in balancing these two goals at the same time, by forming small groups that converge to a single decision while still maintaining diversity of opinions because there are many independent groups. Of course, it's much easier to agree on the height of the Eiffel Tower than on moral, political and ideological issues. But in a time when the world's problems are more complex and people are more polarized, using science to help us understand how we interact and make decisions will hopefully spark interesting new ways to construct a better democracy. |
An interview with the Queen of Creole Cuisine | {0: 'Leah Chase spent seven decades serving her signature gumbo and hospitality to everyone from Martin Luther King Jr. to James Baldwin to Barack Obama.', 1: 'Pat Mitchell is a lifelong advocate for women and girls.'} | TEDWomen 2017 | Leah Chase: Oh, this is beautiful. Oh, gosh, I never saw such a room and beauty and strength like I'm looking at. That's gorgeous. It is. It is a beautiful room. Pat Mitchell: I almost said your age, because you gave me permission, but I realized that I was about to make you a year older. You're only 94. (Laughter) (Applause) LC: Yeah, I'm only 94. (Applause) I mean, you get this old and parts start wearing out. Your legs start wearing out. The one thing that my children always say: "But nothing happened to your mouth." (Laughter) So you've got to have something going, so I've got my mouth going. (Laughter) PM: So Mrs. Chase, the first time we were there, I brought a group of young women, who work with us at TED, into the kitchen, and we were all standing around and you had already cooked lunch for hundreds of people, as you do every day, and you looked up at them. You have to share with this audience what you said to those young women. LC: Well, you know, I talk to young women all the time, and it's beginning to bother me, because look how far I came. I'd come with women that had to really hustle and work hard, and they knew how to be women. They didn't play that man down. And, well, we didn't have the education you have today, and God, I'm so proud when I see those women with all that education under their belt. That's why I worked hard, tried to get everybody to use those resources. So they just don't know their power, and I always tell them, just look at my mother, had 12 girls before she had a boy. (Laughter) So you know how I came out. (Laughter) Now, she had 14 children. She raised 11 of us out of that 14, and up until last year, we were all still living, a bunch of old biddies, but we're still here. (Laughter) And sometimes we can be just cantankerous and blah blah blah blah blah, but we still go. And I love to see women. You don't know what it does for me to see women in the position that you're in today. I never thought I'd see that. I never thought I'd see women be able to take places and positions that we have today. It is just a powerful thing. I had a young woman come to me. She was an African-American woman. And I said, "Well, what do you do, honey?" She said, "I am a retired Navy pilot." Oh God, that just melted me, because I knew how hard it was to integrate that Navy. You know, the Navy was the last thing to really be integrated, and that was done by Franklin Roosevelt as a favor to an African-American man, Lester Granger, that I knew very well. He was the head of the National Urban League back there, and when Roosevelt asked him, he wanted to appoint Lester as maybe one of his cabinet members. Lester said, "No, I don't want that. All I want you to do is integrate that Navy." And that was what Franklin did. Well, Franklin didn't live to do it, but Truman did it. But when this woman told me, "I have flown everything there is to fly," bombers, just all kinds of planes, it just melted me, you know, just to see how far women have come. And I told her, I said, "Well, you could get into the space program." She said, "But Ms. Chase, I'm too old." She was already 60-some years old, and, you know, you're over the hill then. (Laughter) They don't want you flying up in the sky at 60-something years old. Stay on the ground. When I meet women, and today everybody comes to my kitchen, and you know that, and it upsets Stella, my daughter. She doesn't like people coming in the kitchen. But that's where I am, and that's where you're going to see me, in the kitchen. So when they come there, I meet all kinds of people. And that is the thing that really uplifts me, is when I meet women on the move. When I meet women on the move, it is good for me. Now, I'm not one of these flag-waving women. You're not going to see me out there waving. No, I don't do that. (Laughter) No, I don't do that, and I don't want any of you to do that. Just be good women. And you know, my mother taught us ... she was tough on us, and she said, "You know, Leah," she gave us all this plaque, "to be a good woman, you have to first look like a girl." Well, I thought I looked like a girl. "Act like a lady." That, I never learned to do. (Laughter) "Think like a man." Now don't act like that man; think like a man. And "work like a dog." (Laughter) So we learned that the hard way. And they taught you that. They taught you what women had to do. We were taught that women controlled the behavior of men. How you act, they will act. So you've got to do that, and I tell you all the time. You know, don't play this man down. It upsets me when you may have a husband that maybe he doesn't have as much education under his belt as you have, but still you can't play him down. You've got to keep lifting him up, because you don't want to live with a mouse. So you want that man to be a man, and do what he has to do. And anyway, always remember, he runs on cheap gas. (Laughter) So fill him up with cheap gas — (Laughter) and then, you got him. It's just so — (Laughter) It's just — PM: You have to give us a minute to take that in. (Laughter) LC: When I heard this young lady speak before I came out — she was so beautiful, and I wished I could be like that, and my husband, poor darling — I lost him after we were married 70 years — didn't agree on one thing, never did, nothing, but we got along together because he learned to understand me, and that was just hard, because he was so different. And that lady reminded me. I said, "If I would have just been like her, Dooky would have really loved it." (Laughter) But I wasn't. I was always pushy, always moving, always doing this, and he used to come to me all the time, and he said, "Honey, God's going to punish you." (Laughter) "You — you're just not grateful." But it isn't that I'm not grateful, but I think, as long as you're living, you've got to keep moving, you've got to keep trying to get up and do what you've got to do. (Applause) You cannot sit down. You have to keep going, keep trying to do a little bit every day. Every day, you do a little bit, try to make it better. And that's been my whole life. Well, I came up in the country, small town, had to do everything, had to haul the water, had to wash the clothes, do this, do that, pick the dumb strawberries, all that kind of stuff. (Laughter) But still, my daddy insisted that we act nice, we be kind. And that's all. When I heard this young woman — oh, she sounds so beautiful — I said, "I wish I could be like that." PM: Mrs. Chase, we don't want you to be any different than you are. There is no question about that. Let me ask you. This is why it's so wonderful to have a conversation with someone who has such a long view — LC: A long time. PM: to remembering Roosevelt and the person he did that favor for. What is in your head and your mind and what you have seen and witnessed ... One of the things that it's good to remember, always, is that when you opened that restaurant, whites and blacks could not eat together in this city. It was against the law. And yet they did, at Dooky Chase. Tell me about that. LC: They did, there. Well, my mother-in-law first started this, and the reason she started is, because her husband was sickly, and he would go out — and people from Chicago and all the places, you would call his job a numbers runner. But in New Orleans, we are very sophisticated — (Laughter) so it wasn't a numbers runner, it was a lottery vendor. (Laughter) So you see, we put class to that. But that's how he did it. And he couldn't go from house to house to get his clients and all that, because he was sick, so she opened up this little sandwich shop, so she was going to take down the numbers, because he was sick a lot. He had ulcers. He was really bad for a long a time. So she did that — and not knowing anything, but she knew she could make a sandwich. She knew she could cook, and she borrowed 600 dollars from a brewery. Can you imagine starting a business today with 600 dollars and no knowledge of what you're doing? And it always just amazed me what she could do. She was a good money manager. That, I am not. My husband used to call me a bankrupt sister. (Laughter) "She'll spend everything you got." And I would, you know. PM: But you kept the restaurant open, though, even in those times of controversy, when people were protesting and almost boycotting. I mean, it was a controversial move that you and your husband made. LC: It was, and I don't know how we did it, but as I said, my mother-in-law was a kind, kind person, and you didn't have any African-Americans on the police force at that time. They were all white. But they would come around, and she would say, "Bebe, I'm gonna fix you a little sandwich." So she would fix them a sandwich. Today they would call that bribery. (Laughter) But she was just that kind of person. She liked to do things for you. She liked to give. So she would do that, and maybe that helped us out, because nobody ever bothered us. We had Jim Dombrowski, Albert Ben Smith, who started all kinds of things right in that restaurant, and nobody ever bothered us. So we just did it. PM: Excuse me. You talked to me that day about the fact that people considered the restaurant a safe haven where they could come together, particularly if they were working on civil rights, human rights, working to change the laws. LC: Well, because once you got inside those doors, nobody ever, ever bothered you. The police would never come in and bother our customers, never. So they felt safe to come there. They could eat, they could plan. All the Freedom Riders, that's where they planned all their meetings. They would come and we would serve them a bowl of gumbo and fried chicken. (Laughter) So I said, we'd changed the course of America over a bowl of gumbo and some fried chicken. (Applause) I would like to invite the leaders, now, just come have a bowl of gumbo and some fried chicken, talk it over and we'd go and we'd do what we have to do. (Applause) And that's all we did. PM: Could we send you a list to invite to lunch? (Laughter) LC: Yeah, invite. Because that's what we're not doing. We're not talking. Come together. I don't care if you're a Republican or what you are — come together. Talk. And I know those old guys. I was friends with those old guys, like Tip O'Neill and all of those people. They knew how to come together and talk, and you would disagree maybe. That's OK. But you would talk, and we would come to a good thing and meet. And so that's what we did in that restaurant. They would plan the meeting, Oretha's mother, Oretha Haley's mother. She was big in CORE. Her mother worked for me for 42 years. And she was like me. We didn't understand the program. Nobody our age understood this program, and we sure didn't want our children to go to jail. Oh, that was ... oh God. But these young people were willing to go to jail for what they believed. We were working with Thurgood and A.P. Tureaud and all those people with the NAACP. But that was a slow move. We would still be out here trying to get in the door, waiting for them. (Laughter) PM: Is that Thurgood Marshall you're talking about? LC: Thurgood Marshall. But I loved Thurgood. He was a good movement. They wanted to do this without offending anybody. I'll never forget A.P. Tureaud: "But you can't offend the white people. Don't offend them." But these young people didn't care. They said, "We're going. Ready or not, we're going to do this." And so we had to support them. These were the children we knew, righteous children. We had to help them. PM: And they brought the change. LC: And they brought the change. You know, it was hard, but sometimes you do hard things to make changes. PM: And you've seen so many of those changes. The restaurant has been a bridge. You have been a bridge between the past and now, but you don't live in the past, do you? You live very much in the present. LC: And that's what you have to tell young people today. OK, you can protest, but put the past behind you. I can't make you responsible for what your grandfather did. That's your grandfather. I have to build on that. I have to make changes. I can't stay there and say, "Oh, well, look what they did to us then. Look what they do to us now." No, you remember that, but that makes you keep going on, but you don't harp on it every day. You move, and you move to make a difference, and everybody should be involved. My children said, "Mother, don't get political," you know. (Laughter) "Don't get political, because you know we don't like that." But you have to be political today. You have to be involved. Be a part of the system. Look how it was when we couldn't be a part of the system. When Dutch Morial became the mayor, it was a different feeling in the African-American community. We felt a part of things. Now we've got a mayor. We feel like we belong. Moon tried before Dutch came. PM: Mayor Landrieu's father, Moon Landrieu. LC: Mayor Landrieu's father, he took great, great risks by putting African-Americans in city hall. He took a whipping for that for a long time, but he was a visionary, and he did those things that he knew was going to help the city. He knew we had to get involved. So that's what we have to do. We don't harp on that. We just keep moving, and Mitch, you know, I tell Moon all the time, "You did a good thing," but Mitch did one bigger than you and better than you. When he pulled those statues down, I said, "Boy, you're crazy!" (Applause) You're crazy. But it was a good political move. You know, when I saw P.T. Beauregard come down, I was sitting looking at the news, and it just hit me what this was all about. To me, it wasn't about race; it was a political move. And I got so furious, I got back on that kitchen the next morning, and I said, come on, pick up your pants, and let's go to work, because you're going to get left behind. And that's what you have to do. You have to move on people, move on what they do. It was going to bring visibility to the city. So you got that visibility — move on it, uplift yourself, do what you have to do, and do it well. And that's all we do. That's all I try to do. PM: But you just gave the formula for resilience. Right? So you are clearly the best example we could find anywhere of resilience, so there must be something you think — LC: I like emotional strength. I like people with emotional and physical strength, and maybe that's bad for me. My favorite all-time general was George Patton. You know, that wasn't too cool. (Laughter) PM: It's surprising. LC: I've got George Patton hanging in my dining room because I want to remember. He set goals for himself, and he was going to set out to reach those goals. He never stopped. And I always remember his words: "Lead, follow, or get out of the way." Now, I can't lead — (Applause) I can't be a leader, but I can follow a good leader, but I am not getting out of the way. (Applause) But that's just what you have to do. (Applause) If you can't lead — leaders need followers, so if I help you up there, I'm going to ride on your coattails, and I can't count the coattails I've ridden upon. (Laughter) Feed you good. You'll help me out. (Laughter) And that's what life is all about. Everybody can do something, but please get involved. Do something. The thing we have to do in this city, in all cities — mommas have to start being mommas today. You know? They have to start understanding — when you bring this child in the world, you have to make a man out of it, you have to make a woman out of it, and it takes some doing. It takes sacrifice. Maybe you won't have the long fingernails, maybe you won't have the pretty hair. But that child will be on the move, and that's what you have to do. We have to concentrate on educating and making these children understand what it's all about. And I hate to tell you, gentlemen, it's going to take a good woman to do that. It's going to take a good woman to do that. (Applause) Men can do their part. The other part is to just do what you have to do and bring it home, but we can handle the rest, and we will handle the rest. If you're a good woman, you can do that. PM: You heard that first here. We can handle the rest. LC: We can handle the rest. Mrs. Chase, thank you so much — LC: Thank you. PM: for taking time out from the work you do every day in this community. LC: But you don't know what this does for me. When I see all of these people, and come together — people come to my kitchen from all over the world. I had people come from London, now twice this happened to me. First a man came, and I don't know why he came to this — Every year, the chefs do something called "Chef's Charity." Well, it so happened I was the only woman there, and the only African-American there on that stage doing these demonstrations, and I would not leave until I saw another woman come up there, too. I'm not going up — they're going to carry me up there until you bring another woman up here. (Laughter) So they have another one now, so I could step down. But this man was from London. So after that, I found the man in my kitchen. He came to my kitchen, and he said, "I want to ask you one question." OK, I thought I was going to ask something about food. "Why do all these white men hang around you?" (Laughter) What? (Laughter) I couldn't understand. He couldn't understand that. I said, "We work together. This is the way we live in this city. I may never go to your house, you may never come to my house. But when it comes to working, like raising money for this special school, we come together. That's what we do. And still here comes another, a woman, elegantly dressed, about a month ago in my kitchen. She said, "I don't understand what I see in your dining room." I said, "What do you see?" She saw whites and blacks together. That's what we do. We meet. We talk. And we work together, and that's what we have to do. You don't have to be my best friend to work to better your city, to better your country. We just have to come together and work, and that's what we do in this city. We're a weird bunch down here. (Laughter) Nobody understands us, but we feed you well. (Laughter) (Applause) (Cheering) Thank you. (Applause) |
How ancient technology inspired my award-winning inventions | {0: 'Macinley Butson is an inventor from Mangerton, New South Wales. '} | TEDxYouth@Sydney | So, today, I want to start by going back, to be specific, about 2,000 years. Now, I want you to picture ancient Rome. What images come to mind? The gladiators, Colosseum, Julius Caesar? Or maybe armies wearing scale mail, perhaps a bit like this. Now, I want to change your focus to a modern-day oncology unit, specifically women who are undergoing radiotherapy breast cancer treatment. Can you see a connection? Now, there's nothing obvious; I can grant you that, but today I would like to talk to you about two of my major science projects, both of which were inspired by the past: scale mail and ancient Egyptian water clocks, to help solve two very different problems. I'm 16 years old, and I love science and engineering, in case you hadn't guessed from the T-shirt. As a scientist, I am, along with so many others, constantly thinking about where we'll be in five years, in 10 years, even in 50 years' time, the question which constantly drives our curiosity and our imagination to help solve global problems with simple answers. Whether this be clean energy or health, there are major concerns facing our planet today. Now, not only is our generation going to inherit these problems, but we're also creating new ones for ourselves. But I believe that when it comes to coming up with solutions, we can look to the past. We can use the past to change the future, taking things that have been used before and repurposing them in a different way. Now, if you've ever gone to the dentist for an X-ray, you'll be familiar with this scene: the dentist comes into the room, they place a lead apron over the top of you whilst they quickly jump out, and you get your X-ray. Well, this is a similar type shield that might be used if you're undergoing radiotherapy breast cancer treatment, but it isn't failsafe. The lead that they use is toxic, it costs a lot of money, and it costs a lot of time for the centers, which is why they tend to opt out of this decision. However, this means that the women who are undergoing this treatment will receive harmful unwanted radiation to their contralateral breast, which is just a fancy word for the breast that's not being treated, and this is an unwanted byproduct of being free of cancer. Studies have shown that one in 14 women who undergo this treatment will develop a second primary cancer in this breast later in their lifetime, which is where my idea for scale mail comes in, something which I've learned about in movies and museums. Could this ancient shielding technique be more effective than what we're using today? Now, some early forms of scale mail were documented by the Chinese, who used them to protect their horses during battle. The Japanese samurai used to beat individual leaves, replicating that of fish scales, [which] was also found in Roman and Persian armies and is also found on this very cute animal called the pangolin, which is very effective for protection. So this is my device called the SMART armor, which stands for "Scale Mail Armor for Radiation Therapy." So I made this by meticulously and painfully interweaving these individual scales together, using pliers and jump rings for what felt like an eternity. So, to test my device, I used what we would consider a typical breast cancer treatment. And this was found that I could reduce doses to the contralateral breast by up to 80%, reducing the radiation levels to this breast by 80%. Now, what makes this device different, which you may have already noticed, is not only the use of scale mail, but also the use of copper. Now, I found that copper was 20% more effective at the skin level than lead, something that contradicts global standards that we should be using lead. Now, I've performed all of my testing at the Chris O'Brien Lifehouse, and I'm overwhelmed and absolutely ecstatic at the response. It has approval from the Therapeutic Goods Administration of Australia, which means that it's ready for clinical use. I have a provisional patent on it, so don't go thinking you can steal it. And my paper is soon to be published in the Journal of Applied Medical Physics, which is based in North America. Now, there's still, of course, a lot of work to be done, but through experimentation, through curiosity, and a bit of imagination, this just shows how an ancient technology can be refocused for future scientific breakthrough. The ancient curving, conforming nature of this material made it ideal for its new purpose, potentially saving lives. Now, I'd like to change your focus a bit to a problem where I've also focused my thinking: solar panels, which are expensive to buy, difficult to install, and thus become almost impractical when helping to solve the developing world's great energy crisis. Many millions of dollars and thousands of researchers across the world are looking to improve solar panel efficiency by one or two percent. I discovered that I could improve a solar panel's power output by up to 72% through the combination of ancient technology and the modern solar panels. Now, on a different note for a second, 71% of our world is covered in water; 96.5% of this is found in the oceans. Now, of all of this water that covers our planet, only one percent is able to be drunk, and only one percent holds the basic properties needed to make it consumable. Now, I want you guys to remember this because this becomes important a little bit later. But for centuries, humans have used water to scientifically aid our existence. In 1500 BC, the ancient Egyptians created the first clock, which was a water clock where they used a water-dripping vessel which was calibrated against the movements of the Sun to tell the time. Now, interestingly enough, it was the most accurate time measurement until the 17th century, when the pendulum clock was invented. Water has also been used to further exemplify beauty and magnify what we know as beautiful and as nature. So my idea was to apply this ancient water-dropping technique to solar panels in order to make a solar panel mechanically track the Sun. It's called "The Solar System." Now, this water-drip system works by matching the water tanks on one side of the solar panel to the force and strength applied by a spring system on the other side. Now, this means that I'm able to control the drip amount and slowly rotate the panel throughout the day, matching the path of the Sun. The Solar System could be an exciting tool for developing communities as it's able to provide both water and power by filtering the water once it comes out of this water-drip system. We can provide developing communities with a safe access, a safe reliable water source and power. A 72% increase in power output shows you how ancient technology can be refocused, and how we can bring the past into the future. When Thomas Edison was asked, "How did it feel to fail countless times?" he replied, "I didn't fail 1,000 times. The light bulb was an invention with 1,000 steps." Now, I know that I'm going to fail, and I'm going to be disappointed constantly, but when this happens, it just means that you need to get up, it means that you need to try harder, and it means that you need to try something different. We need to start experimenting with a childlike curiosity and imagination, which can be inspired by the past. And don't let anyone tell you that your age matters. Don't let anyone tell you that your gender matters. Anyone can find simple solutions to global problems. The answers are out there. Someone just needs to go and rediscover them. Start by using the past to change the future. Thank you. (Cheers) (Applause) |
The science of cells that never get old | {0: 'Elizabeth Blackburn won a Nobel Prize for her pioneering work on telomeres and telomerase, which may play central roles in how we age. She is president of the Salk Institute and author of the New York Times Best Seller, "The Telomere Effect."'} | TED2017 | Where does the end begin? Well, for me, it all began with this little fellow. This adorable organism — well, I think it's adorable — is called Tetrahymena and it's a single-celled creature. It's also been known as pond scum. So that's right, my career started with pond scum. Now, it was no surprise I became a scientist. Growing up far away from here, as a little girl I was deadly curious about everything alive. I used to pick up lethally poisonous stinging jellyfish and sing to them. And so starting my career, I was deadly curious about fundamental mysteries of the most basic building blocks of life, and I was fortunate to live in a society where that curiosity was valued. Now, for me, this little pond scum critter Tetrahymena was a great way to study the fundamental mystery I was most curious about: those bundles of DNA in our cells called chromosomes. And it was because I was curious about the very ends of chromosomes, known as telomeres. Now, when I started my quest, all we knew was that they helped protect the ends of chromosomes. It was important when cells divide. It was really important, but I wanted to find out what telomeres consisted of, and for that, I needed a lot of them. And it so happens that cute little Tetrahymena has a lot of short linear chromosomes, around 20,000, so lots of telomeres. And I discovered that telomeres consisted of special segments of noncoding DNA right at the very ends of chromosomes. But here's a problem. Now, we all start life as a single cell. It multiples to two. Two becomes four. Four becomes eight, and on and on to form the 200 million billion cells that make up our adult body. And some of those cells have to divide thousands of times. In fact, even as I stand here before you, all throughout my body, cells are furiously replenishing to, well, keep me standing here before you. So every time a cell divides, all of its DNA has to be copied, all of the coding DNA inside of those chromosomes, because that carries the vital operating instructions that keep our cells in good working order, so my heart cells can keep a steady beat, which I assure you they're not doing right now, and my immune cells can fight off bacteria and viruses, and our brain cells can save the memory of our first kiss and keep on learning throughout life. But there is a glitch in the way DNA is copied. It is just one of those facts of life. Every time the cell divides and the DNA is copied, some of that DNA from the ends gets worn down and shortened, some of that telomere DNA. And think about it like the protective caps at the ends of your shoelace. And those keep the shoelace, or the chromosome, from fraying, and when that tip gets too short, it falls off, and that worn down telomere sends a signal to the cells. "The DNA is no longer being protected." It sends a signal. Time to die. So, end of story. Well, sorry, not so fast. It can't be the end of the story, because life hasn't died off the face of the earth. So I was curious: if such wear and tear is inevitable, how on earth does Mother Nature make sure we can keep our chromosomes intact? Now, remember that little pond scum critter Tetrahymena? The craziest thing was, Tetrahymena cells never got old and died. Their telomeres weren't shortening as time marched on. Sometimes they even got longer. Something else was at work, and believe me, that something was not in any textbook. So working in my lab with my extraordinary student Carol Greider — and Carol and I shared the Nobel Prize for this work — we began running experiments and we discovered cells do have something else. It was a previously undreamed-of enzyme that could replenish, make longer, telomeres, and we named it telomerase. And when we removed our pond scum's telomerase, their telomeres ran down and they died. So it was thanks to their plentiful telomerase that our pond scum critters never got old. OK, now, that's an incredibly hopeful message for us humans to be receiving from pond scum, because it turns out that as we humans age, our telomeres do shorten, and remarkably, that shortening is aging us. Generally speaking, the longer your telomeres, the better off you are. It's the overshortening of telomeres that leads us to feel and see signs of aging. My skin cells start to die and I start to see fine lines, wrinkles. Hair pigment cells die. You start to see gray. Immune system cells die. You increase your risks of getting sick. In fact, the cumulative research from the last 20 years has made clear that telomere attrition is contributing to our risks of getting cardiovascular diseases, Alzheimer's, some cancers and diabetes, the very conditions many of us die of. And so we have to think about this. What is going on? This attrition, we look and we feel older, yeah. Our telomeres are losing the war of attrition faster. And those of us who feel youthful longer, it turns out our telomeres are staying longer for longer periods of time, extending our feelings of youthfulness and reducing the risks of all we most dread as the birthdays go by. OK, seems like a no-brainer. Now, if my telomeres are connected to how quickly I'm going to feel and get old, if my telomeres can be renewed by my telomerase, then all I have to do to reverse the signs and symptoms of aging is figure out where to buy that Costco-sized bottle of grade A organic fair trade telomerase, right? Great! Problem solved. (Applause) Not so fast, I'm sorry. Alas, that's not the case. OK. And why? It's because human genetics has taught us that when it comes to our telomerase, we humans live on a knife edge. OK, simply put, yes, nudging up telomerase does decrease the risks of some diseases, but it also increases the risks of certain and rather nasty cancers. So even if you could buy that Costco-sized bottle of telomerase, and there are many websites marketing such dubious products, the problem is you could nudge up your risks of cancers. And we don't want that. Now, don't worry, and because, while I think it's kind of funny that right now, you know, many of us may be thinking, "Well, I'd rather be like pond scum," ... (Laughter) there is something for us humans in the story of telomeres and their maintenance. But I want to get one thing clear. It isn't about enormously extending human lifespan or immortality. It's about health span. Now, health span is the number of years of your life when you're free of disease, you're healthy, you're productive, you're zestfully enjoying life. Disease span, the opposite of health span, is the time of your life spent feeling old and sick and dying. So the real question becomes, OK, if I can't guzzle telomerase, do I have control over my telomeres' length and hence my well-being, my health, without those downsides of cancer risks? OK? So, it's the year 2000. Now, I've been minutely scrutinizing little teeny tiny telomeres very happily for many years, when into my lab walks a psychologist named Elissa Epel. Now, Elissa's expertise is in the effects of severe, chronic psychological stress on our mind's and our body's health. And there she was standing in my lab, which ironically overlooked the entrance to a mortuary, and — (Laughter) And she had a life-and-death question for me. "What happens to telomeres in people who are chronically stressed?" she asked me. You see, she'd been studying caregivers, and specifically mothers of children with a chronic condition, be it gut disorder, be it autism, you name it — a group obviously under enormous and prolonged psychological stress. I have to say, her question changed me profoundly. See, all this time I had been thinking of telomeres as those miniscule molecular structures that they are, and the genes that control telomeres. And when Elissa asked me about studying caregivers, I suddenly saw telomeres in a whole new light. I saw beyond the genes and the chromosomes into the lives of the real people we were studying. And I'm a mom myself, and at that moment, I was struck by the image of these women dealing with a child with a condition very difficult to deal with, often without help. And such women, simply, often look worn down. So was it possible their telomeres were worn down as well? So our collective curiosity went into overdrive. Elissa selected for our first study a group of such caregiving mothers, and we wanted to ask: What's the length of their telomeres compared with the number of years that they have been caregiving for their child with a chronic condition? So four years go by and the day comes when all the results are in, and Elissa looked down at our first scatterplot and literally gasped, because there was a pattern to the data, and it was the exact gradient that we most feared might exist. It was right there on the page. The longer, the more years that is, the mother had been in this caregiving situation, no matter her age, the shorter were her telomeres. And the more she perceived her situation as being more stressful, the lower was her telomerase and the shorter were her telomeres. So we had discovered something unheard of: the more chronic stress you are under, the shorter your telomeres, meaning the more likely you were to fall victim to an early disease span and perhaps untimely death. Our findings meant that people's life events and the way we respond to these events can change how you maintain your telomeres. So telomere length wasn't just a matter of age counted in years. Elissa's question to me, back when she first came to my lab, indeed had been a life-and-death question. Now, luckily, hidden in that data there was hope. We noticed that some mothers, despite having been carefully caring for their children for many years, had been able to maintain their telomeres. So studying these women closely revealed that they were resilient to stress. Somehow they were able to experience their circumstances not as a threat day in and day out but as a challenge, and this has led to a very important insight for all of us: we have control over the way we age all the way down into our cells. OK, now our initial curiosity became infectious. Thousands of scientists from different fields added their expertise to telomere research, and the findings have poured in. It's up to over 10,000 scientific papers and counting. So several studies rapidly confirmed our initial finding that yes, chronic stress is bad for telomeres. And now many are revealing that we have more control over this particular aging process than any of us could ever have imagined. A few examples: a study from the University of California, Los Angeles of people who are caring for a relative with dementia, long-term, and looked at their caregiver's telomere maintenance capacity and found that it was improved by them practicing a form of meditation for as little as 12 minutes a day for two months. Attitude matters. If you're habitually a negative thinker, you typically see a stressful situation with a threat stress response, meaning if your boss wants to see you, you automatically think, "I'm about to be fired," and your blood vessels constrict, and your level of the stress hormone cortisol creeps up, and then it stays up, and over time, that persistently high level of the cortisol actually damps down your telomerase. Not good for your telomeres. On the other hand, if you typically see something stressful as a challenge to be tackled, then blood flows to your heart and to your brain, and you experience a brief but energizing spike of cortisol. And thanks to that habitual "bring it on" attitude, your telomeres do just fine. So ... What is all of this telling us? Your telomeres do just fine. You really do have power to change what is happening to your own telomeres. But our curiosity just got more and more intense, because we started to wonder, what about factors outside our own skin? Could they impact our telomere maintenance as well? You know, we humans are intensely social beings. Was it even possible that our telomeres were social as well? And the results have been startling. As early as childhood, emotional neglect, exposure to violence, bullying and racism all impact your telomeres, and the effects are long-term. Can you imagine the impact on children of living years in a war zone? People who can't trust their neighbors and who don't feel safe in their neighborhoods consistently have shorter telomeres. So your home address matters for telomeres as well. On the flip side, tight-knit communities, being in a marriage long-term, and lifelong friendships, even, all improve telomere maintenance. So what is all this telling us? It's telling us that I have the power to impact my own telomeres, and I also have the power to impact yours. Telomere science has told us just how interconnected we all are. But I'm still curious. I do wonder what legacy all of us will leave for the next generation? Will we invest in the next young woman or man peering through a microscope at the next little critter, the next bit of pond scum, curious about a question we don't even know today is a question? It could be a great question that could impact all the world. And maybe, maybe you're curious about you. Now that you know how to protect your telomeres, are you curious what are you going to do with all those decades of brimming good health? And now that you know you could impact the telomeres of others, are you curious how will you make a difference? And now that you know the power of curiosity to change the world, how will you make sure that the world invests in curiosity for the sake of the generations that will come after us? Thank you. (Applause) |
How we're using drones to deliver blood and save lives | {0: "Keller Rinaudo is CEO and co-founder of Zipline, building drone delivery for global public health customers. (He's also co-founder of Romotive, makers of the tiny robot, Romo.)"} | TEDGlobal 2017 | Most people think that new technology or advanced technology can never start in Africa. Instead, they think that the best way to help the continent advance is by providing aid or services that the continent can't provide for itself. So while we see advanced technology like robotics and artificial intelligence growing exponentially in the developed world, those same people are worried that a technologically backward Africa is falling behind. That attitude couldn't be more wrong. I'm a robotics entrepreneur who's spent a lot of time here in Africa. And in 2014 we created Zipline, which is a company that uses electric autonomous aircraft to deliver medicine to hospitals and health centers on demand. Last year, we launched the world's first automated delivery system operating at national scale. And guess what? We did not do that in the US, we didn't do it in Japan, and we didn't do it in Europe. It was actually President Paul Kagame and the Rwandan Ministry of Health that made a big bet on the potential of this technology and signed a commercial contract to deliver a majority of the country's blood on demand. (Applause) Yeah, they deserve the applause. So why is blood important? Rwanda collects between 60- and 80,000 units of blood a year. So this is a product that when you need it, you really, really need it. But blood is also challenging, because it has a very short shelf life, there are lots of different storage requirements, and it's really hard to predict the demand for all of these different blood groups before a patient actually needs something. But the cool thing is that using this technology, Rwanda has been able to keep more blood centralized and then provide it when a patient needs something to any hospital or health center in an average of just 20 or 30 minutes. Do you guys want to see how it works? (Audience) Yes. All right. Nobody believes me, so ... better to show. This is our distribution center, which is about 20 kilometers outside of Kigali. This actually used to be a cornfield nine months ago, and with the Rwandan government, we leveled it and built this center in a couple weeks. So when a patient is having an emergency, a doctor or a nurse at that hospital can send us a WhatsApp, telling us what they need. And then our team will immediately spring into action. We pull the blood from our stock, which is delivered from the National Center for Blood Transfusion; we scan the blood into our system so the Ministry of Health knows where the blood is going; and then we'll basically pack it into a Zip, which is what we call these little autonomous airplanes that run on batteries. And then once that Zip is ready to go, we accelerate it from zero to 100 kilometers an hour in about half of a second. (Audience) Whoa! And from the moment it leaves the end of the launcher, it's completely autonomous. (Video: Air traffic controller directs traffic) This is our air traffic controller calling it in to Kigali International Airport. And when the Zip arrives at the hospital, it descends to about 30 feet and drops the package. We use a really simple paper parachute — simple things are best — that allows the package to come to the ground gently and reliably in the same place every time. So it's just like ride sharing; the doctors get a text message one minute before we arrive, saying, "Walk outside and receive your delivery." (Laughter) And then — (Applause) and then the doctors have what they need to save a patient's life. This is actually watching a delivery happen from our distribution center; this vehicle is about 50 kilometers away. We're able to watch the vehicle as it makes a delivery at a hospital in real time. You may have noticed there are pings that are coming off of that vehicle on the screen. Those pings are actually data packets that we're getting over the cell phone networks. So these planes have SIM cards just like your cell phone does, and they're communicating over the cell network to tell us where they are and how they're doing at all times. Believe it or not, we actually buy family plans — (Laughter) for this fleet of vehicles, because that's how we get the best rates. (Laughter) It's actually not a joke. (Laughter) So today, we're delivering about 20 percent of the national blood supply of Rwanda outside of Kigali. We serve about 12 hospitals, and we're adding hospitals to that network at an accelerating rate. All of those hospitals only receive blood in this way, and most of those hospitals actually place multiple orders every day. So the reason — in all of health care logistics, you're always trading off waste against access. So if you want to solve waste, you keep everything centralized. As a result, when patients are having emergencies, sometimes they don't have the medical product they need. If you want to solve access, you stock a lot of medicine at the last mile, at hospitals or health centers, and then patients have the medicine they need. But you end up throwing a lot of medicine out, which is very expensive. What's so amazing is that the Rwandan government has been able to break this cycle permanently. Because doctors can get what they need instantly, they actually stock less blood at the hospitals. So although use of blood products has increased substantially at all the hospitals we serve, in the last nine months, zero units of blood have expired at any of these hospitals. (Applause) That's an amazing result. That's actually not been achieved by any other health care system on the planet, and it happened here. But obviously, when we're talking about delivering medical products instantly, the most important thing is patients. Let me give you an example. A couple months ago, a 24-year-old mother came into one of the hospitals that we serve, and she gave birth via C-section. But that led to complications, and she started to bleed. Luckily, the doctors had some blood of her blood type on hand that had been delivered via Zipline's routine service, and so they transfused her with a couple units of blood. But she bled out of those units in about 10 minutes. In this case, that mother's life is in grave danger — in any hospital in the world. But luckily, the doctors who were taking care of her immediately called our distribution center, they placed an emergency order, and our team actually did emergency delivery after emergency delivery after emergency delivery. They ended up sending seven units of red blood cells, four units of plasma and two units of platelets. That's more blood than you have in your entire body. All of it was transfused into her, the doctors were able to stabilize her, and she is healthy today. (Applause) Since we launched, we've done about 400 emergency deliveries like that, and there's a story like that one behind most of those emergencies. Here are just a couple of the moms who have received transfusions in this way in the last couple months. We're always reminded: when we can help a doctor save a mom's life, it's not just her life that you're saving. That's also a baby boy or a baby girl who has a mother while they're growing up. (Applause) But I want to be clear: postpartum hemorrhaging — it's not a Rwanda problem, it's not a developing-world problem — this is a global problem. Maternal health is a challenge everywhere. The main difference is that Rwanda was the first country to use radical technology to do something about it. And that's the reason this attitude of Africa being disrupted or advanced technology not working here or needing aid is so totally wrong. Africa can be the disrupter. These small, agile, developing economies can out-innovate large, rich ones. And they can totally leapfrog over the absence of legacy infrastructure to go straight to newer and better systems. In 2000, if you had said that high-quality cellular networks were about to roll out across all of Africa, people would have told you that you were crazy. And yet, no one anticipated how fast those networks were going to connect and empower people. Today, 44 percent of the GDP of Kenya flows through M-Pesa, their mobile payment platform. And not only that, but our autonomous fleet of vehicles relies on that cellular network. Over the next few years as we start serving private health care facilities, we'll also use that mobile payment platform to collect fees for deliveries. So innovation leads to more innovation leads to more innovation. And meanwhile, most people who live in developed economies think that drone delivery is technologically impossible, let alone happening at national scale in East Africa. And I do mean East Africa, not just Rwanda. On Thursday, just a couple days ago, the Tanzanian Ministry of Health announced that they are going to use this same technology to provide instant delivery of a wide range of medical products to 10 million of the hardest to reach people in the country. (Applause) It's actually going to be the largest autonomous system anywhere in the world. To give you a sense of what this looks like, this is one of the first distribution centers. You can see a 75-kilometer service radius around the distribution center, and that allows us to serve hundreds of health facilities and hospitals, all of which are rural, from that single distribution center. But to serve over 20 percent of the population of Tanzania, we're going to need multiple distribution centers. We'll actually need four. And from these distribution centers, we expect to be doing several hundred lifesaving deliveries every day, and this system will ultimately serve over 1,000 health facilities and hospitals in the country. So yeah, East Africa is moving really fast. One thing that people, I think, often miss is that these kinds of leaps generate compounding gains. For example, Rwanda, by investing in this infrastructure for health care, now has an aerial logistics network that they can use to catalyze other parts of their economy, like agriculture or e-commerce. Even more importantly, 100 percent of the teams we hire at these distribution centers are local. So here's our Rwandan team, which is a group of extraordinary engineers and operators. They run the world's only automated delivery system operating at national scale. They have been able to master something that the largest technology companies in the world have not yet been able to figure out. So they are total heroes. (Applause) They're total heroes. Our team's mission is to deliver basic access to medicine to all seven billion people on the planet, no matter how hard it is to reach them. We often tell people about that mission, and they say, "That's so generous of you, it's so philanthropic." No! Philanthropy has nothing to do with it. Because of the commercial contracts that we sign with ministries of health, these networks are 100 percent sustainable and scalable. And the reason we feel so strongly about correcting that misperception is that entrepreneurship is the only force in human history that has lifted millions of people out of poverty. (Applause) No amount of foreign aid is going to sustainably employ 250 million African youth. And the jobs that these kids may have gotten 10 years ago are largely being automated or are being changed dramatically by technology. So they are looking for new skill sets, new competitive advantages. They're looking for start-ups. So why aren't there more start-ups that are tackling these global problems that are faced by billions of people in developing economies? The reason is that investors and entrepreneurs are totally blind to the opportunity. We think these problems are the domain of NGOs or governments, not private companies. That's what we have to change. You may have noticed I left something out of the video that I showed you. I didn't show you how the planes land when they get back to the distribution center. So, it might be obvious to you: none of our planes have landing gear. We also don't have runways where we operate. So we have to be able to decelerate the plane from about 100 kilometers an hour to zero in half of a second. And the way we do that is we actually use a wire that tracks that plane as it comes in, with centimeter-level accuracy. We snag the plane out of the sky, and then we gently plop it onto an actively inflated cushion. This is basically a combination of an aircraft carrier and a bouncy castle. (Laughter) So let me show you. (Laughter) (Applause) And it might be obvious to you why I wanted to end with this video. I wanted to show you the kids and the teenagers who line up on the fence every day. They cheer every launch and every landing. (Laughter) (Applause) Sometimes I actually show up at the distribution center early because I'm jet-lagged. I'll show up an hour before we begin operation. And there will be kids on the fence getting good seats. (Laughter) And you go up and you ask them, "What do you think about the planes?" And they'll say, "Oh, it's a sky ambulance." So they get it. I mean, they get it more than most adults. So I was asking earlier: Who is going to be creating the disruptive technology companies of Africa over the next decade? Ultimately, it's going to be up to these kids. They are the engineers of Rwanda and Africa. They are the engineers of our shared future. But the only way they can build that future is if we realize that world-changing companies can scale in Africa, and that disruptive technology can start here first. Thanks. (Applause) |
How uncomfortable conversations can save lives | {0: 'Lyra McKee is a freelance journalist based in Belfast, Northern Ireland. She has written for publications including BuzzFeed, The Atlantic, and Private Eye. In 2006, she was named Sky News Young Journalist of the Year. In 2016, Forbes Magazine named her one of their 30 under 30 in media in Europe. She is represented by Janklow & Nesbit, a literary agency based in London and New York, and is currently working on her second book, with the first soon to be published. She is also an editor of Mediagazer, a media news site based in Silicon Valley. \n'} | TEDxStormontWomen | There are people in the world who if they're telling you a story need to tell you 19 other stories first before they can get to the point. I'm one of those people. I want to tell you a story about a conversation I witnessed in a mosque, which changed my life. But to tell you that story, I have to tell you another story first, and I've only got 12 minutes. And that story starts in late night, early June, this year. I got the opportunity to go on a trip to the United States with a delegation from around the UK - I was the only one from Northern Ireland - and we were going there to learn about 'American values'. We were going to be travelling across Washington, Florida, and Texas, meeting with everyone from guns rights lobbyists to religious leaders and LGBT groups, people who spanned the spectrum of American values. So the thing about these trips is they offer you a number of perks. They offer you carrots they can dangle in front of you whenever the going gets tough, when you are in the 100th meeting of the day with someone whose views you find absolutely reprehensible and you're really struggling to stay the course. In our case, they took us to Disneyland, which I can confirm is definitely one of the happiest places on earth. I was in my element. Then they took us to NASA, which, as a Star Wars nerd, I have to say, competed in my heart for the title of 'Happiest Place on Earth'. Someone very helpful pointed out to me - because I was posting selfies of myself at that time, running around Florida in vest tops - and someone very helpfully pointed out that I seemed to have more vests than Rab C. Nesbitt. (Laughter) I know the theme of the conference is 'bridges': I felt like burning that one, to be quite frank. Then we got to go to this beautiful beachside resort called Cocoa Beach and sip cocktails on the beach; it was absolutely wonderful. You're probably thinking, "Where do I sign up for this trip?" "This sounds amazing, it's a free jolly!" That's what I thought it was when I looked at the itinerary. But I had to go through hell to get these perks. I realise that Disneyland and NASA, that these were all carrots they were dangling in front of us, whenever I found myself less than 10 feet away from the chief orangutan in the White House. (Laughter) El Trump. People ask me, "What's the hardest thing about standing 10 feet away from Donald Trump?" I think it was seeing how badly his fake tan was applied. (Laughter) I did redeem my conscience when I got to Florida, I should say, and we met these lovely protestors, who, in case you can't see, are holding a 'Stop Trump' sign. They were right up my alley; I thought they were fantastic. Our next visit was to a place called the National Rifle Association. It is all the guns rights lobbyists who come out in wake of every mass shooting and defend the right of Americans to bear arms. For a number of people in the group, this was the most difficult part of the trip. They found it very difficult to sit there and listen and exchange views, which was what the whole trip was about. For me though, the hardest part of the trip was when we got to Orlando and they told us we were going to be visiting a mosque. Now you ask yourself, Why would I find it hard to visit a mosque? Well, for those of you who don't have Gaydar, I'm gay - don't worry, you can laugh, it's okay. (Laughter) I hated myself for much of my life because of what religion taught me about people like me. And when I stopped hating myself, I started hating religion. But I was intrigued by this mosque because it was in Orlando, and a year to the week that we were in Orlando, 49 people were slaughtered in a gay nightclub called Pulse. This mosque had led the response to that tragedy and had condemned it. I was intrigued by that. This was at a time when Christian churches in Orlando were refusing to bury some of the dead because they were gay. To have a mosque come out and condemn this was a big deal. One of the victims of Pulse that always stuck with me was Brenda Marquez Mccool. She was a woman who was out with her gay son that night in Pulse, supporting him. When the gunman unleashed his bullets, she threw herself in front of her son. He survived but she didn't. So I decided that I would go into this mosque with an open mind. I did, and we met with this lovely man called Bassem, who was one of the leaders in the mosque. We talked about everything, and eventually, Bassem and I had a conversation about LGBT rights and what Muslims think of gay people. Difficult, thorny subject, but we had a really pleasant conversation, but neither of us knew what was about to happen next. There was a young man on our trip who I'll call Mahmud, a young Muslim man. He was listening to the exchange between Bassem and I, and when we were finished talking, he spoke up and addressed Bassem. And he said, "My best friend was gay, he was Muslim, and he comitted suicide." And at this point, Mahmud burst into tears. He said, "I did everything I could to save him, but I couldn't." And he told us this story of how this young Muslim man couldn't live with being Muslim and being gay; he felt that the only option he had was to die by suicide. We were all crying in the mosque, I think, by that point. We were all mourning for this young Muslim man that we had never met and now that we would never get the chance to meet. You know, when I left religious education at 16, I swore that I was done with religion and I was never going back to it. I was never going to have another conversation that I could not help with another person of faith again. When I was in that mosque that day and I was there to learn about American values, I ended up getting schooled on my own culture by a Muslim. Because I realised that I couldn't run away from religion anymore. Within the LGBT community, we have a saying that we tell people. We tell them that 'It Gets Better'. What I realised that day was that it gets better for some of us; it gets better for those of us who live long enough to see it get better. I realised that I couldn't run away from religion anymore, because religion shapes how LGBT people are treated in the world. It shapes the laws and how they treat LGBT people, which we can see from the lack of equal marriage in this country. And it shapes how we, LGBT people, feel about ourselves. The first lesson I learned about being gay was that it was evil and that I was going to hell for it. I learned that from the Bible. There were times I would cry in my bedroom as a teenager, bargaining with God, asking him not to send me to hell, because I was so convinced that I was going there. This text, this Bible, I know for so many people it offers them hope, it offers them salvation, but for me it offered a prison sentence. I think it's the same for a lot of other LGBT young people. LGBT suicide rates are through the roof. This is the percentage of trans youth alone in the UK who have attempted suicide over the course of the last year. We see these numbers play out in Northern Ireland locally, and we know this from trans youth services, who say they see it play out among their young people. What do we do about this? I feel the only answer is to change religious teaching of homosexuality and LGBT issues. I don't mean we berate Christians and shout at them or berate Muslims and shout at them. We need to do the one thing that I didn't want to do when I left school at 16: we need to have conversations, difficult conversations, and fight for the hearts and minds of those who oppose us. I've studied this, and when you ask people like Megan Phelps-Roper, who was a member of the Westboro Baptist Church, a hate group in America, when you ask people like this, when you ask former neo-Nazis, the most extreme people, when you ask, "What changed your mind? What made you abandon your views?" they'll tell you the same thing: It was a conversation. Someone who they were opposed to struck up a conversation, and they learned that that person was not who they thought they were, and they got to a point where they could no longer hold those views. People tell me this isn't going to happen; there's no way the churches will change their teachings or the mosques will change their teachings. "You're mad." And I would have agreed with them. But six weeks ago, I was out in a gay bar - not this one - with my friend Jordan. He's from a Free Prebystarian DUP-voting family, from "County LegenDerry." I avoid that Londonderry-Derry thing, I hate that. We were out there with his mum, who is a Scottish Free-P who goes to church every Sunday, and she was out in this bar, supporting her gay son, just like Brenda Marquez McCool was out in Pulse that night supporting her gay son. Don't tell me there's no hope because for too many LGBT young people, that is the only thing they have that keeps them living. And by the way, that Free Presbytarian mother went into work the next day and told everyone about this amazing thing she'd been to called a 'drag show'. (Laughter) Now if you had told me that I'd be sitting in a gay bar with one of Ian Paisley's disciples drinking cocktails, watching a drag show, I'd have told you you were mad. (Laughter) What can you do? If you thought you were here to passively listen to me rant on: No, I've got a job for you all. If any of you are uncomfortable with the thought of someone like me, please come up to me after this event and talk to me. I won't bite your head off, I won't call you a homophobe. We'll just have a conversation, and I'll show you that I'm human just like you. If you are comfortable with the thought of someone like me, have a conversation with someone who isn't and try to change their mind. Because you could be saving a life. Finally, I'd like to send a message to all LGBT young people that are currently struggling, especially those from faith backgrounds. "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11 This talk is in memory of the Pulse 49 and all LGBT people who died by suicide. Thank you very much, folks. (Applause) (Cheers) |
The future of good food in China | {0: 'TED Fellow Matilda Ho is shaping the startup landscape to create more sustainable food systems in China.'} | TED2017 | I was six when I had the first chance to learn what patience means. My grandmother gave me a magic box as a birthday present, which neither of us knew would become a gift for life. I became obsessed with magic, and at 20, I became an amateur dove magician. This act of magic requires that I train my doves to sit and wait inside my clothing. As a young magician, I was always in a rush to make them appear, but my teacher told me the secret to the success of this magical act is to make my doves appear only after they've waited patiently in my tuxedo. It has to be a mindful kind of patience, the kind that took me some years to master. When life took me to Shanghai seven years ago, the mindful patience I learned became almost impossible to practice. In China, where everyone and everything is in a hurry, you need to outperform over 1.3 billion other people to build a better life. You hack the system, bend the rules, circumvent the boundaries. It is the same when it comes to food ... except that when it comes to food, impatience can have dire consequences. In the haste to grow more, sell more, 4,000 years of agriculture in a country of rich natural resources is spoiled by the overuse of chemicals and pesticides. In 2016, the Chinese government revealed half a million food safety violations in just nine months. Alarmingly, one in every four diabetics in the world now comes from China. The stories around food are scary and somewhat overwhelming, and I told myself it's time to bring a mindful patience into the impatience. When I say mindful patience, I don't mean the ability to wait. I mean knowing how to act while waiting. And so, while I wait for the day when a sustainable food system becomes a reality in China, I launched one of China's first online farmers market to bring local, organically grown produce to families. When we went live, 18 months ago, the food we could sell then was somewhat dismal. We had no fruit and hardly any meat to sell, as none that was sent to the lab passed our zero tolerance test towards pesticides, chemicals, antibiotics and hormones. I told our very anxious employees that we would not give up until we've met every local farmer in China. Today, we supply 240 types of produce from 57 local farmers. After almost one year of searching, we finally found chemical-free bananas grown in the backyards of villagers on Hainan Island. And only two hours away from Shanghai, on an island that even Google Maps does not have coordinates for, we found a place where cows eat grass and roam free under the blue sky. We also work hard on logistics. We deliver our customers' orders in as fast as three hours on electric vehicles, and we use biodegradable, reusable boxes to minimize our environmental footprint. I have no doubt that our offerings will continue to grow, but it will take time, and I know a lot more people are needed to shape the future of good food. So last year, I founded China's first food tech accelerator and VC platform to help start-ups to shape the future of good food the way they want, be that through using edible insects as a more sustainable source of protein or using essential oils to keep food fresh for longer. So, you may still ask: Why are you trying to build a sustainable food system by driving a patient movement in a country where it's almost a crime to take it slow? Because, for me, the real secret to success is patience — a mindful kind of patience that requires knowing how to act while waiting, the kind of patience I learned with my grandmother's magic box. After all, we do not inherit the earth from our ancestors. We borrow it from our children. Thank you. (Applause) |
Fashion has a pollution problem -- can biology fix it? | {0: 'Natsai Audrey Chieza is a trans-disciplinary design researcher whose fascinating work crosses boundaries between technology, biology, design and cultural studies.'} | TED@BCG Milan | You're watching the life cycle of a Streptomyces coelicolor. It's a strain of bacteria that's found in the soil where it lives in a community with other organisms, decomposing organic matter. Coelicolor is a beautiful organism. A powerhouse for synthesizing organic chemical compounds. It produces an antibiotic called actinorhodin, which ranges in color from blue to pink and purple, depending on the acidity of its environment. That it produces these pigment molecules sparked my curiosity and led me to collaborate closely with coelicolor. It is an unlikely partnership, but it's one that completely transformed my practice as a materials designer. From it, I understood how nature was going to completely revolutionize how we design and build our environments, and that organisms like coelicolor were going to help us grow our material future. So what's wrong with things as they are? Well, for the last century, we've organized ourselves around fossil fuels, arguably, the most valuable material system we have ever known. We are tethered to this resource, and we've crafted a dependency on it that defines our identities, cultures, our ways of making and our economies. But our fossil fuel-based activities are reshaping the earth with a kind of violence that is capable of dramatically changing the climate, of accelerating a loss of biodiversity and even sustaining human conflict. We're living in a world where the denial of this dependence has become deadly. And its reasons are multiple, but they include the privilege of not being affected and what I believe is a profound lack of imagination about how else we could live within the limits of this planet's boundaries. Fossil fuels will one day give way to renewable energy. That means we need to find new material systems that are not petroleum-based. I believe that those material systems will be biological, but what matters is how we design and build them. They mustn't perpetuate the destructive legacies of the oil age. When you look at this image, what do you see? Well, I see a highly sophisticated biological system, that through the use of enzymes, can move and place atoms more quickly and precisely than anything we've ever engineered. And we know that it can do this at scale. Nature has evolved over 3.8 billion years to be able to do this, but now through the use of synthetic biology, an emerging scientific discipline that seeks to customize this functionality of living systems, we can now rapid prototype the assembly of DNA. That means that we can engineer the kind of biological precision that makes it possible to design a bacteria that can recycle metal, to grow fungi into furniture and even sequester renewable energy from algae. To think about how we might access this inherent brilliance of nature — to build things from living things — let's consider the biological process of fermentation. I've come to think of fermentation, when harnessed by humans, as an advanced technological toolkit for our survival. When a solid or a liquid ferments, it's chemically broken down by bacterial fungi. The byproduct of this is what we value. So for example, we add yeast to grapes to make wine. Well in nature, these transformations are part of a complex network — a continuous cycle that redistributes energy. Fermentation gives rise to multispecies interactions of bacteria and fungi, plants, insects, animals and humans: in other words, whole ecosystems. We've known about these powerful microbial interactions for thousands of years. You can see how through the fermentation of grains, vegetal matter and animal products, all peoples and cultures of the world have domesticated microorganisms to make the inedible edible. And there's even evidence that as early as 350 AD, people deliberately fermented foodstuffs that contained antibiotics. The skeletal remains of some Sudanese Nubian were found to contain significant deposits of tetracycline. That's an antibiotic that we use in modern medicine today. And nearly 1500 years later, Alexander Fleming discovered the antimicrobial properties of mold. And it was only through the industrialized fermentation of penicillin that millions could survive infectious diseases. Fermentation could once again play an important role in our human development. Could it represent a new mode of survival if we harness it to completely change our industries? I've worked in my creative career to develop new material systems for the textile industry. And while it is work that I love, I cannot reconcile with the fact that the textile industry is one of the most polluting in the world. Most of the ecological harm caused by textile processing occurs at the finishing and the dyeing stage. Processing textiles requires huge amounts of water. And since the oil age completely transformed the textile industry, many of the materials and the chemicals used to process them are petroleum based. And so coupled with our insatiable appetite for fast fashion, a huge amount of textile waste is ending up in landfill every year because it remains notoriously difficult to recycle. So again, contrast this with biology. Evolved over 3.8 billion years, to rapid prototype, to recycle and to replenish better than any system we've ever engineered. I was inspired by this immense potential and wanted to explore it through a seemingly simple question — at the time. If a bacteria produces a pigment, how do we work with it to dye textiles? Well, one of my favorite ways is to grow Streptomyces coelicolor directly onto silk. You can see how each colony produces pigment around its own territory. Now, if you add many, many cells, they generate enough dyestuff to saturate the entire cloth. Now, the magical thing about dyeing textiles in this way — this sort of direct fermentation when you add the bacteria directly onto the silk — is that to dye one t-shirt, the bacteria survive on just 200 milliliters of water. And you can see how this process generates very little runoff and produces a colorfast pigment without the use of any chemicals. So now you're thinking — and you're thinking right — an inherent problem associated with designing with a living system is: How do you guide a medium that has a life force of its own? Well, once you've established the baseline for cultivating Streptomyces so that it consistently produces enough pigment, you can turn to twisting, folding, clamping, dipping, spraying, submerging — all of these begin to inform the aesthetics of coelicolor's activity. And using them in a systematic way enables us to be able to generate an organic pattern ... a uniform dye ... and even a graphic print. Another problem is how to scale these artisanal methods of making so that we can start to use them in industry. When we talk about scale, we consider two things in parallel: scaling the biology, and then scaling the tools and the processes required to work with the biology. If we can do this, then we can move what happens on a petri dish so that it can meet the human scale, and then hopefully the architecture of our environments. If Fleming were alive today, this would definitely be a part of his toolkit. You're looking at our current best guess of how to scale biology. It's a bioreactor; a kind of microorganism brewery that contains yeasts that have been engineered to produce specific commodity chemicals and compounds like fragrances and flavors. It's actually connected to a suite of automated hardware and software that read in real time and feed back to a design team the growth conditions of the microbe. So we can use this system to model the growth characteristics of an organism like coelicolor to see how it would ferment at 50,000 liters. I'm currently based at Ginkgo Bioworks, which is a biotechnology startup in Boston. I am working to see how their platform for scaling biology interfaces with my artisanal methods of designing with bacteria for textiles. We're doing things like engineering Streptomyces coelicolor to see if it can produce more pigment. And we're even looking at the tools for synthetic biology. Tools that have been designed specifically to automate synthetic biology to see how they could adapt to become tools to print and dye textiles. I'm also leveraging digital fabrication, because the tools that I need to work with Streptomyces coelicolor don't actually exist. So in this case — in the last week actually, I've just designed a petri dish that is engineered to produce a bespoke print on a whole garment. We're making lots of kimonos. Here's the exciting thing: I'm not alone. There are others who are building capacity in this field, like MycoWorks. MycoWorks is a startup that wants to replace animal leather with mushroom leather, a versatile, high-performance material that has applications beyond textiles and into product and architecture. And Bolt Threads — they've engineered a yeast to produce spider-silk protein that can be spun into a highly programmable yarn. So think water resistance, stretchability and superstrength. To reach economies of scale, these kinds of startups are having to build and design and engineer the infrastructure to work with biology. For example, Bolt Threads have had to engage in some extreme biomimicry. To be able to spin the product this yeast creates into a yarn, they've engineered a yarn-making machine that mimics the physiological conditions under which spiders ordinarily spin their own silk. So you can start to see how imaginative and inspiring modes of making exist in nature that we can use to build capacity around new bio-based industries. What we now have is the technology to design, build, test and scale these capabilities. At this present moment, as we face the ecological crisis in front of us, what we have to do is to determine how we're going to build these new material systems so that they don't mirror the damaging legacies of the oil age. How we're going to distribute them to ensure a sustainable development that is fair and equitable across the world. And crucially, how we would like the regulatory and ethical frameworks that govern these technologies to interact with our society. Biotechnology is going to touch every part of our lived experience. It is living; it is digital; it is designed, and it can be crafted. This is a material future that we must be bold enough to shape. Thank you. (Applause) |
What AI is -- and isn't | {0: 'Sebastian Thrun is a passionate technologist who is constantly looking for new opportunities to make the world better for all of us.', 1: 'After a long career in journalism and publishing, Chris Anderson became the curator of the TED Conference in 2002 and has developed it as a platform for identifying and disseminating ideas worth spreading.'} | TED2017 | Chris Anderson: Help us understand what machine learning is, because that seems to be the key driver of so much of the excitement and also of the concern around artificial intelligence. How does machine learning work? Sebastian Thrun: So, artificial intelligence and machine learning is about 60 years old and has not had a great day in its past until recently. And the reason is that today, we have reached a scale of computing and datasets that was necessary to make machines smart. So here's how it works. If you program a computer today, say, your phone, then you hire software engineers that write a very, very long kitchen recipe, like, "If the water is too hot, turn down the temperature. If it's too cold, turn up the temperature." The recipes are not just 10 lines long. They are millions of lines long. A modern cell phone has 12 million lines of code. A browser has five million lines of code. And each bug in this recipe can cause your computer to crash. That's why a software engineer makes so much money. The new thing now is that computers can find their own rules. So instead of an expert deciphering, step by step, a rule for every contingency, what you do now is you give the computer examples and have it infer its own rules. A really good example is AlphaGo, which recently was won by Google. Normally, in game playing, you would really write down all the rules, but in AlphaGo's case, the system looked over a million games and was able to infer its own rules and then beat the world's residing Go champion. That is exciting, because it relieves the software engineer of the need of being super smart, and pushes the burden towards the data. As I said, the inflection point where this has become really possible — very embarrassing, my thesis was about machine learning. It was completely insignificant, don't read it, because it was 20 years ago and back then, the computers were as big as a cockroach brain. Now they are powerful enough to really emulate kind of specialized human thinking. And then the computers take advantage of the fact that they can look at much more data than people can. So I'd say AlphaGo looked at more than a million games. No human expert can ever study a million games. Google has looked at over a hundred billion web pages. No person can ever study a hundred billion web pages. So as a result, the computer can find rules that even people can't find. CA: So instead of looking ahead to, "If he does that, I will do that," it's more saying, "Here is what looks like a winning pattern, here is what looks like a winning pattern." ST: Yeah. I mean, think about how you raise children. You don't spend the first 18 years giving kids a rule for every contingency and set them free and they have this big program. They stumble, fall, get up, they get slapped or spanked, and they have a positive experience, a good grade in school, and they figure it out on their own. That's happening with computers now, which makes computer programming so much easier all of a sudden. Now we don't have to think anymore. We just give them lots of data. CA: And so, this has been key to the spectacular improvement in power of self-driving cars. I think you gave me an example. Can you explain what's happening here? ST: This is a drive of a self-driving car that we happened to have at Udacity and recently made into a spin-off called Voyage. We have used this thing called deep learning to train a car to drive itself, and this is driving from Mountain View, California, to San Francisco on El Camino Real on a rainy day, with bicyclists and pedestrians and 133 traffic lights. And the novel thing here is, many, many moons ago, I started the Google self-driving car team. And back in the day, I hired the world's best software engineers to find the world's best rules. This is just trained. We drive this road 20 times, we put all this data into the computer brain, and after a few hours of processing, it comes up with behavior that often surpasses human agility. So it's become really easy to program it. This is 100 percent autonomous, about 33 miles, an hour and a half. CA: So, explain it — on the big part of this program on the left, you're seeing basically what the computer sees as trucks and cars and those dots overtaking it and so forth. ST: On the right side, you see the camera image, which is the main input here, and it's used to find lanes, other cars, traffic lights. The vehicle has a radar to do distance estimation. This is very commonly used in these kind of systems. On the left side you see a laser diagram, where you see obstacles like trees and so on depicted by the laser. But almost all the interesting work is centering on the camera image now. We're really shifting over from precision sensors like radars and lasers into very cheap, commoditized sensors. A camera costs less than eight dollars. CA: And that green dot on the left thing, what is that? Is that anything meaningful? ST: This is a look-ahead point for your adaptive cruise control, so it helps us understand how to regulate velocity based on how far the cars in front of you are. CA: And so, you've also got an example, I think, of how the actual learning part takes place. Maybe we can see that. Talk about this. ST: This is an example where we posed a challenge to Udacity students to take what we call a self-driving car Nanodegree. We gave them this dataset and said "Hey, can you guys figure out how to steer this car?" And if you look at the images, it's, even for humans, quite impossible to get the steering right. And we ran a competition and said, "It's a deep learning competition, AI competition," and we gave the students 48 hours. So if you are a software house like Google or Facebook, something like this costs you at least six months of work. So we figured 48 hours is great. And within 48 hours, we got about 100 submissions from students, and the top four got it perfectly right. It drives better than I could drive on this imagery, using deep learning. And again, it's the same methodology. It's this magical thing. When you give enough data to a computer now, and give enough time to comprehend the data, it finds its own rules. CA: And so that has led to the development of powerful applications in all sorts of areas. You were talking to me the other day about cancer. Can I show this video? ST: Yeah, absolutely, please. CA: This is cool. ST: This is kind of an insight into what's happening in a completely different domain. This is augmenting, or competing — it's in the eye of the beholder — with people who are being paid 400,000 dollars a year, dermatologists, highly trained specialists. It takes more than a decade of training to be a good dermatologist. What you see here is the machine learning version of it. It's called a neural network. "Neural networks" is the technical term for these machine learning algorithms. They've been around since the 1980s. This one was invented in 1988 by a Facebook Fellow called Yann LeCun, and it propagates data stages through what you could think of as the human brain. It's not quite the same thing, but it emulates the same thing. It goes stage after stage. In the very first stage, it takes the visual input and extracts edges and rods and dots. And the next one becomes more complicated edges and shapes like little half-moons. And eventually, it's able to build really complicated concepts. Andrew Ng has been able to show that it's able to find cat faces and dog faces in vast amounts of images. What my student team at Stanford has shown is that if you train it on 129,000 images of skin conditions, including melanoma and carcinomas, you can do as good a job as the best human dermatologists. And to convince ourselves that this is the case, we captured an independent dataset that we presented to our network and to 25 board-certified Stanford-level dermatologists, and compared those. And in most cases, they were either on par or above the performance classification accuracy of human dermatologists. CA: You were telling me an anecdote. I think about this image right here. What happened here? ST: This was last Thursday. That's a moving piece. What we've shown before and we published in "Nature" earlier this year was this idea that we show dermatologists images and our computer program images, and count how often they're right. But all these images are past images. They've all been biopsied to make sure we had the correct classification. This one wasn't. This one was actually done at Stanford by one of our collaborators. The story goes that our collaborator, who is a world-famous dermatologist, one of the three best, apparently, looked at this mole and said, "This is not skin cancer." And then he had a second moment, where he said, "Well, let me just check with the app." So he took out his iPhone and ran our piece of software, our "pocket dermatologist," so to speak, and the iPhone said: cancer. It said melanoma. And then he was confused. And he decided, "OK, maybe I trust the iPhone a little bit more than myself," and he sent it out to the lab to get it biopsied. And it came up as an aggressive melanoma. So I think this might be the first time that we actually found, in the practice of using deep learning, an actual person whose melanoma would have gone unclassified, had it not been for deep learning. CA: I mean, that's incredible. (Applause) It feels like there'd be an instant demand for an app like this right now, that you might freak out a lot of people. Are you thinking of doing this, making an app that allows self-checking? ST: So my in-box is flooded about cancer apps, with heartbreaking stories of people. I mean, some people have had 10, 15, 20 melanomas removed, and are scared that one might be overlooked, like this one, and also, about, I don't know, flying cars and speaker inquiries these days, I guess. My take is, we need more testing. I want to be very careful. It's very easy to give a flashy result and impress a TED audience. It's much harder to put something out that's ethical. And if people were to use the app and choose not to consult the assistance of a doctor because we get it wrong, I would feel really bad about it. So we're currently doing clinical tests, and if these clinical tests commence and our data holds up, we might be able at some point to take this kind of technology and take it out of the Stanford clinic and bring it to the entire world, places where Stanford doctors never, ever set foot. CA: And do I hear this right, that it seemed like what you were saying, because you are working with this army of Udacity students, that in a way, you're applying a different form of machine learning than might take place in a company, which is you're combining machine learning with a form of crowd wisdom. Are you saying that sometimes you think that could actually outperform what a company can do, even a vast company? ST: I believe there's now instances that blow my mind, and I'm still trying to understand. What Chris is referring to is these competitions that we run. We turn them around in 48 hours, and we've been able to build a self-driving car that can drive from Mountain View to San Francisco on surface streets. It's not quite on par with Google after seven years of Google work, but it's getting there. And it took us only two engineers and three months to do this. And the reason is, we have an army of students who participate in competitions. We're not the only ones who use crowdsourcing. Uber and Didi use crowdsource for driving. Airbnb uses crowdsourcing for hotels. There's now many examples where people do bug-finding crowdsourcing or protein folding, of all things, in crowdsourcing. But we've been able to build this car in three months, so I am actually rethinking how we organize corporations. We have a staff of 9,000 people who are never hired, that I never fire. They show up to work and I don't even know. Then they submit to me maybe 9,000 answers. I'm not obliged to use any of those. I end up — I pay only the winners, so I'm actually very cheapskate here, which is maybe not the best thing to do. But they consider it part of their education, too, which is nice. But these students have been able to produce amazing deep learning results. So yeah, the synthesis of great people and great machine learning is amazing. CA: I mean, Gary Kasparov said on the first day [of TED2017] that the winners of chess, surprisingly, turned out to be two amateur chess players with three mediocre-ish, mediocre-to-good, computer programs, that could outperform one grand master with one great chess player, like it was all part of the process. And it almost seems like you're talking about a much richer version of that same idea. ST: Yeah, I mean, as you followed the fantastic panels yesterday morning, two sessions about AI, robotic overlords and the human response, many, many great things were said. But one of the concerns is that we sometimes confuse what's actually been done with AI with this kind of overlord threat, where your AI develops consciousness, right? The last thing I want is for my AI to have consciousness. I don't want to come into my kitchen and have the refrigerator fall in love with the dishwasher and tell me, because I wasn't nice enough, my food is now warm. I wouldn't buy these products, and I don't want them. But the truth is, for me, AI has always been an augmentation of people. It's been an augmentation of us, to make us stronger. And I think Kasparov was exactly correct. It's been the combination of human smarts and machine smarts that make us stronger. The theme of machines making us stronger is as old as machines are. The agricultural revolution took place because it made steam engines and farming equipment that couldn't farm by itself, that never replaced us; it made us stronger. And I believe this new wave of AI will make us much, much stronger as a human race. CA: We'll come on to that a bit more, but just to continue with the scary part of this for some people, like, what feels like it gets scary for people is when you have a computer that can, one, rewrite its own code, so, it can create multiple copies of itself, try a bunch of different code versions, possibly even at random, and then check them out and see if a goal is achieved and improved. So, say the goal is to do better on an intelligence test. You know, a computer that's moderately good at that, you could try a million versions of that. You might find one that was better, and then, you know, repeat. And so the concern is that you get some sort of runaway effect where everything is fine on Thursday evening, and you come back into the lab on Friday morning, and because of the speed of computers and so forth, things have gone crazy, and suddenly — ST: I would say this is a possibility, but it's a very remote possibility. So let me just translate what I heard you say. In the AlphaGo case, we had exactly this thing: the computer would play the game against itself and then learn new rules. And what machine learning is is a rewriting of the rules. It's the rewriting of code. But I think there was absolutely no concern that AlphaGo would take over the world. It can't even play chess. CA: No, no, no, but now, these are all very single-domain things. But it's possible to imagine. I mean, we just saw a computer that seemed nearly capable of passing a university entrance test, that can kind of — it can't read and understand in the sense that we can, but it can certainly absorb all the text and maybe see increased patterns of meaning. Isn't there a chance that, as this broadens out, there could be a different kind of runaway effect? ST: That's where I draw the line, honestly. And the chance exists — I don't want to downplay it — but I think it's remote, and it's not the thing that's on my mind these days, because I think the big revolution is something else. Everything successful in AI to the present date has been extremely specialized, and it's been thriving on a single idea, which is massive amounts of data. The reason AlphaGo works so well is because of massive numbers of Go plays, and AlphaGo can't drive a car or fly a plane. The Google self-driving car or the Udacity self-driving car thrives on massive amounts of data, and it can't do anything else. It can't even control a motorcycle. It's a very specific, domain-specific function, and the same is true for our cancer app. There has been almost no progress on this thing called "general AI," where you go to an AI and say, "Hey, invent for me special relativity or string theory." It's totally in the infancy. The reason I want to emphasize this, I see the concerns, and I want to acknowledge them. But if I were to think about one thing, I would ask myself the question, "What if we can take anything repetitive and make ourselves 100 times as efficient?" It so turns out, 300 years ago, we all worked in agriculture and did farming and did repetitive things. Today, 75 percent of us work in offices and do repetitive things. We've become spreadsheet monkeys. And not just low-end labor. We've become dermatologists doing repetitive things, lawyers doing repetitive things. I think we are at the brink of being able to take an AI, look over our shoulders, and they make us maybe 10 or 50 times as effective in these repetitive things. That's what is on my mind. CA: That sounds super exciting. The process of getting there seems a little terrifying to some people, because once a computer can do this repetitive thing much better than the dermatologist or than the driver, especially, is the thing that's talked about so much now, suddenly millions of jobs go, and, you know, the country's in revolution before we ever get to the more glorious aspects of what's possible. ST: Yeah, and that's an issue, and it's a big issue, and it was pointed out yesterday morning by several guest speakers. Now, prior to me showing up onstage, I confessed I'm a positive, optimistic person, so let me give you an optimistic pitch, which is, think of yourself back 300 years ago. Europe just survived 140 years of continuous war, none of you could read or write, there were no jobs that you hold today, like investment banker or software engineer or TV anchor. We would all be in the fields and farming. Now here comes little Sebastian with a little steam engine in his pocket, saying, "Hey guys, look at this. It's going to make you 100 times as strong, so you can do something else." And then back in the day, there was no real stage, but Chris and I hang out with the cows in the stable, and he says, "I'm really concerned about it, because I milk my cow every day, and what if the machine does this for me?" The reason why I mention this is, we're always good in acknowledging past progress and the benefit of it, like our iPhones or our planes or electricity or medical supply. We all love to live to 80, which was impossible 300 years ago. But we kind of don't apply the same rules to the future. So if I look at my own job as a CEO, I would say 90 percent of my work is repetitive, I don't enjoy it, I spend about four hours per day on stupid, repetitive email. And I'm burning to have something that helps me get rid of this. Why? Because I believe all of us are insanely creative; I think the TED community more than anybody else. But even blue-collar workers; I think you can go to your hotel maid and have a drink with him or her, and an hour later, you find a creative idea. What this will empower is to turn this creativity into action. Like, what if you could build Google in a day? What if you could sit over beer and invent the next Snapchat, whatever it is, and tomorrow morning it's up and running? And that is not science fiction. What's going to happen is, we are already in history. We've unleashed this amazing creativity by de-slaving us from farming and later, of course, from factory work and have invented so many things. It's going to be even better, in my opinion. And there's going to be great side effects. One of the side effects will be that things like food and medical supply and education and shelter and transportation will all become much more affordable to all of us, not just the rich people. CA: Hmm. So when Martin Ford argued, you know, that this time it's different because the intelligence that we've used in the past to find new ways to be will be matched at the same pace by computers taking over those things, what I hear you saying is that, not completely, because of human creativity. Do you think that that's fundamentally different from the kind of creativity that computers can do? ST: So, that's my firm belief as an AI person — that I haven't seen any real progress on creativity and out-of-the-box thinking. What I see right now — and this is really important for people to realize, because the word "artificial intelligence" is so threatening, and then we have Steve Spielberg tossing a movie in, where all of a sudden the computer is our overlord, but it's really a technology. It's a technology that helps us do repetitive things. And the progress has been entirely on the repetitive end. It's been in legal document discovery. It's been contract drafting. It's been screening X-rays of your chest. And these things are so specialized, I don't see the big threat of humanity. In fact, we as people — I mean, let's face it: we've become superhuman. We've made us superhuman. We can swim across the Atlantic in 11 hours. We can take a device out of our pocket and shout all the way to Australia, and in real time, have that person shouting back to us. That's physically not possible. We're breaking the rules of physics. When this is said and done, we're going to remember everything we've ever said and seen, you'll remember every person, which is good for me in my early stages of Alzheimer's. Sorry, what was I saying? I forgot. CA: (Laughs) ST: We will probably have an IQ of 1,000 or more. There will be no more spelling classes for our kids, because there's no spelling issue anymore. There's no math issue anymore. And I think what really will happen is that we can be super creative. And we are. We are creative. That's our secret weapon. CA: So the jobs that are getting lost, in a way, even though it's going to be painful, humans are capable of more than those jobs. This is the dream. The dream is that humans can rise to just a new level of empowerment and discovery. That's the dream. ST: And think about this: if you look at the history of humanity, that might be whatever — 60-100,000 years old, give or take — almost everything that you cherish in terms of invention, of technology, of things we've built, has been invented in the last 150 years. If you toss in the book and the wheel, it's a little bit older. Or the axe. But your phone, your sneakers, these chairs, modern manufacturing, penicillin — the things we cherish. Now, that to me means the next 150 years will find more things. In fact, the pace of invention has gone up, not gone down, in my opinion. I believe only one percent of interesting things have been invented yet. Right? We haven't cured cancer. We don't have flying cars — yet. Hopefully, I'll change this. That used to be an example people laughed about. (Laughs) It's funny, isn't it? Working secretly on flying cars. We don't live twice as long yet. OK? We don't have this magic implant in our brain that gives us the information we want. And you might be appalled by it, but I promise you, once you have it, you'll love it. I hope you will. It's a bit scary, I know. There are so many things we haven't invented yet that I think we'll invent. We have no gravity shields. We can't beam ourselves from one location to another. That sounds ridiculous, but about 200 years ago, experts were of the opinion that flight wouldn't exist, even 120 years ago, and if you moved faster than you could run, you would instantly die. So who says we are correct today that you can't beam a person from here to Mars? CA: Sebastian, thank you so much for your incredibly inspiring vision and your brilliance. Thank you, Sebastian Thrun. That was fantastic. (Applause) |
A Republican mayor's plan to replace partisanship with policy | {0: 'G.T. Bynum is using data-driven outcomes and trackable goals to break down historic lines of division.'} | TEDxPennsylvaniaAvenue | So last year, I ran for mayor of my hometown, Tulsa, Oklahoma. And I was the underdog. I was running against a two-term incumbent, and my opponent ran the classic partisan playbook. He publicized his endorsement of Donald Trump. He publicized a letter that he sent to President Obama protesting Syrian refugees, even though none of them were coming to Tulsa. (Laughter) He ran ads on TV that my kids thought made me look like Voldemort, and sent out little gems in the mail, like this. [America's most liberal labor union has endorsed] Never mind that "America's most liberal labor union," as defined by this ad, was actually the Tulsa Firefighters Union, hardly a famed bastion of liberalism. (Laughter) Never mind that while she was running for president and he was serving in his final year in that office, Hillary, Barack and I could just never find the time to get together and yuck it up about the Tulsa mayor's race. (Laughter) Never mind that I, like my opponent, am a Republican. (Laughter) And so when something like this hits you in a campaign, you have to decide how you're going to respond, and we had a novel idea. What if, instead of responding with partisanship, we responded with a focus on results? What if we ran a campaign that was not about running against someone, but was about bringing people together behind a common vision? And so we decided to respond not with a negative ad but with something people find even sexier — data points. (Laughter) And so we emphasized things like increasing per capita income in our city, increasing our city's population, and we stuck to those relentlessly, throughout the campaign, always bringing it back to those things by which our voters could measure, in a very transparent way, how we were doing, and hold me accountable if I got elected. And a funny thing happened when we did that. Tulsa is home to one of the most vibrant young professional populations in the country, and they took notice of this approach. We have in our culture in our city, an ethos where our business leaders don't just run companies, they run philanthropic institutions and nonprofits, and those folks took notice. We have parents who are willing to sacrifice today so that their kids can have a better future, and those people took notice, too. And so on election day, I, G.T. Bynum, a guy whose name reminds people of a circus promoter ... (Laughter) a guy with the raw animal magnetism of a young Orville Redenbacher ... (Laughter) I won the election by 17 points. (Applause) And we did it with the support of Republicans and Democrats. Now, why is that story and that approach so novel? Why do we always allow ourselves to fall back on philosophical disagreements that ultimately lead to division? I believe it is because politicians find it easier to throw the red meat out to the base than to innovate. The conventional wisdom is that to win an election, you have to dumb it down and play to your constituencies' basest, divisive instincts. And when somebody wins an election like that, they win, that's true, but the rest of us lose. And so what we need to do is think about how can we change that dynamic. How can we move in a direction where partisanship is replaced with policy? And fortunately, there's a growing bipartisan movement across this country that is doing just that. One of its heroes is a guy named Mitch Daniels. Mitch Daniels served as George W. Bush's budget director, and during that time, he created what was called the PART tool. The PART tool allowed people to evaluate a broad range of federal programs and apply numerical scoring for them on things like program management and project results. And using this, they evaluated over a thousand federal programs. Over 150 programs had their funding reduced because they could not demonstrate success. But unfortunately, there wasn't ever a well-publicized increase in funding for those programs that did demonstrate success, and because of this, the program was never really popular with Congress, and was eventually shuttered. But the spirit of that program lived on. Mitch Daniels went home to Indiana, ran for governor, got elected, and applied the same premise to state programs, reducing funding for those programs that could not demonstrate success, but this time, he very publicly increased funding for those programs that could demonstrate success, things like increasing the number of state troopers that they needed to have, reducing wait times at the DMV — and today, Mitch Daniels is the president of Purdue University, applying yet again the same principles, this time at the higher ed level, and he's done that in order to keep tuition levels for students there flat for half a decade. Now, while Mitch Daniels applied this at the federal level, the state level, and in higher ed, the guy that really cracked the code for cities is a Democrat, Martin O'Malley, during his time as Mayor of Baltimore. Now, when Mayor O'Malley took office, he was a big fan of what they'd been able to do in New York City when it came to fighting crime. When Rudy Giuliani first became Mayor of New York, crime statistics were collected on a monthly, even an annual basis, and then police resources would be allocated based on those statistics. Giuliani shrunk that time frame, so that crime statistics would be collected on a daily, even hourly basis, and then police resources would be allocated to those areas quickly where crimes were occurring today rather than where they were occurring last quarter. Well, O'Malley loved that approach, and he applied it in Baltimore. And he applied it to the two areas that were most problematic for Baltimore from a crime-fighting standpoint. We call these the kidneys of death. [Baltimore homicides and shootings, 1999] So there they are, the kidneys. Now watch this. Watch what happens when you apply data in real time and deploy resources quickly. In a decade, they reduced violent crime in Baltimore by almost 50 percent, using this approach, but the genius of what O'Malley did was not that he just did what some other city was doing. Lots of us mayors do that. (Laughter) He realized that the same approach could be used to all of the problems that his city faced. And so they applied it to issue after issue in Baltimore, and today, it's being used by mayors across the country to deal with some of our greatest challenges. And the overall approach is a very simple one — identify the goal that you want to achieve; identify a measurement by which you can track progress toward that goal; identify a way of testing that measurement cheaply and quickly; and then deploy whatever strategies you think would work, test them, reduce funding for the strategies that don't work, and put your money into those strategies that do. Today, Atlanta is using this to address housing issues for their homeless population. Philadelphia has used this to reduce their crime rates to levels not enjoyed since the 1960s. Louisville has used this not just for their city but in a community-wide effort bringing resources together to address vacant and abandoned properties. And I am using this approach in Tulsa. I want Tulsa to be a world-class city, and we cannot do that if we aren't clear in what our goals are and we don't use evidence and evaluation to accomplish them. Now, what's interesting, and we've found in implementing this, a lot of people, when you talk about data, people think of that as a contrast to creativity. What we've found is actually quite the opposite. We've found it to be an engine for creative problem-solving, because when you're focused on a goal, and you can test different strategies quickly, the sky's the limit on the different things that you can test out. You can come up with any strategy that you can come up with and utilize and try and test it until you find something that works, and then you double down on that. The other area that we've found that it lends itself to creativity is that it breaks down those old silos of ownership that we run into so often in government. It allows you to draw all the stakeholders in your community that care about homelessness or crime-fighting or education or vacant and abandoned properties, and bring those people to the table so you can work together to address your common goal. Now, in Tulsa, we're applying this to things that are common city initiatives, things like, as you've heard now repeatedly, public safety — that's an obvious one; improving our employee morale at the city — we don't think you could do good things unless you've got happy employees; improving the overall street quality throughout our community. But we're also applying it to things that are not so traditional when you think about what cities are responsible for, things like increasing per capita income, increasing our population, improving our high school graduation rates, and perhaps the greatest challenge that we face as a city. At the dawn of the 1920s, Tulsa was home to the most vibrant African American community in the country. The Greenwood section of our city was known as Black Wall Street. In 1921, in one night, Tulsa experienced the worst race riot in American history. Black Wall Street was burned to the ground, and today, a child that is born in the most predominantly African American part of our city is expected to live 11 years less than a kid that's born elsewhere in Tulsa. Now, for us, this is a unifying issue. Four years from now, we will recognize the 100th commemoration of that awful event, and in Tulsa, we are bringing every tool that we can to address that life-expectancy disparity, and we're not checking party registration cards at the door to the meetings. We don't care who you voted for for president if you want to help restore the decade of life that's being stolen from these kids right now. And so we've got white folks and black folks, Hispanic folks and Native American folks, we've got members of Congress, members of the city council, business leaders, religious leaders, Trump people and Hillary people, all joined by one common belief, and that is that a kid should have an equal shot at a good life in our city, regardless of what part of town they happen to be born in. Now, how do we go forward with that? Is that easy to accomplish? Of course not! If it were easy to accomplish, somebody would have already done it before us. But what I love about city government is that the citizens can create whatever kind of city they're willing to build, and in Tulsa, we have decided to build a city where Republicans and Democrats use evidence, data and evaluation to solve our greatest challenges together. And if we can do this, if we can set partisanship aside in the only state in the whole country where Barack Obama never carried a single county, then you can do it in your town, too. (Laughter) Your cities can be saved or squandered in one generation. So let's agree to set aside our philosophical disagreements and focus on those aspirations that unite us. Let's grasp the opportunity that is presented by innovation to build better communities for our neighbors. Let's replace a focus on partisan division with a focus on results. That is the path to a better future for us all. Thank you for your time. (Applause) |
Get comfortable with being uncomfortable | {0: 'Luvvie Ajayi is an author, speaker and digital strategist who thrives at the intersection of comedy, technology and activism.'} | TEDWomen 2017 | I'm a professional troublemaker. (Laughter) As my job is to critique the world, the shoddy systems and the people who refuse to do better, as a writer, as a speaker, as a shady Nigerian — (Laughter) I feel like my purpose is to be this cat. (Laughter) I am the person who is looking at other people, like, "I need you to fix it." That is me. I want us to leave this world better than we found it. And how I choose to effect change is by speaking up, by being the first and by being the domino. For a line of dominoes to fall, one has to fall first, which then leaves the other choiceless to do the same. And that domino that falls, we're hoping that, OK, the next person that sees this is inspired to be a domino. Being the domino, for me, looks like speaking up and doing the things that are really difficult, especially when they are needed, with the hope that others will follow suit. And here's the thing: I'm the person who says what you might be thinking but dared not to say. A lot of times people think that we're fearless, the people who do this, we're fearless. We're not fearless. We're not unafraid of the consequences or the sacrifices that we have to make by speaking truth to power. What happens is, we feel like we have to, because there are too few people in the world willing to be the domino, too few people willing to take that fall. We're not doing it without fear. Now, let's talk about fear. I knew exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up. I was like, "I'm going to be a doctor!" Doctor Luvvie was the dream. I was Doc McStuffins before it was a thing. (Laughter) And I remember when I went to college, my freshman year, I had to take Chemistry 101 for my premed major. I got the first and last D of my academic career. (Laughter) So I went to my advisor, and I was like, "OK, let's drop the premed, because this doctor thing is not going to work, because I don't even like hospitals. So ..." (Laughter) "Let's just consider that done for." And that same semester, I started blogging. That was 2003. So as that one dream was ending, another was beginning. And then what was a cute hobby became my full-time job when I lost my marketing job in 2010. But it still took me two more years to say, "I'm a writer." Nine years after I had started writing, before I said, "I'm a writer," because I was afraid of what happens without 401ks, without, "How am I going to keep up my shoe habit? That's important to me." (Laughter) So it took me that long to own this thing that was what my purpose was. And then I realized, fear has a very concrete power of keeping us from doing and saying the things that are our purpose. And I was like, "You know what? I'm not going to let fear rule my life. I'm not going to let fear dictate what I do." And then all of these awesome things started happening, and dominoes started to fall. So when I realized that, I was like, "OK, 2015, I turned 30, it's going to be my year of 'Do it anyway.' Anything that scares me, I'm going to actively pursue it." So, I'm a Capricorn. I like my feel solidly on the ground. I decided to take my first-ever solo vacation, and it was out of the country to the Dominican Republic. So on my birthday, what did I do? I went ziplining through the forests of Punta Cana. And for some odd reason, I had on business casual. Don't ask why. (Laughter) And I had an incredible time. Also, I don't like being submerged in water. I like to be, again, on solid ground. So I went to Mexico and swam with dolphins underwater. And then the cool thing that I did also that year that was my mountain was I wrote my book, "I'm Judging You: The Do-Better Manual," And I had to own — (Applause) that whole writing thing now, right? Yes. But the very anti-me thing that I did that year that scared the crap out of me — I went skydiving. We're about to fall out of the plane. I was like, "I've done some stupid things in life. This is one of them." (Laughter) And then we come falling down to Earth, and I literally lose my breath as I see Earth, and I was like, "I just fell out of a perfectly good plane on purpose." (Laughter) "What is wrong with me?!" But then I looked down at the beauty, and I was like, "This is the best thing I could have done. This was an amazing decision." And I think about the times when I have to speak truth. It feels like I am falling out of that plane. It feels like that moment when I'm at the edge of the plane, and I'm like, "You shouldn't do this," but then I do it anyway, because I realize I have to. Sitting at the edge of that plane and kind of staying on that plane is comfort to me. And I feel like every day that I'm speaking truth against institutions and people who are bigger than me and just forces that are more powerful than me, I feel like I'm falling out of that plane. But I realize comfort is overrated. Because being quiet is comfortable. Keeping things the way they've been is comfortable. And all comfort has done is maintain the status quo. So we've got to get comfortable with being uncomfortable by speaking these hard truths when they're necessary. And I — (Applause) And for me, though, I realize that I have to speak these truths, because honesty is so important to me. My integrity is something I hold dear. Justice — I don't think justice should be an option. We should always have justice. Also, I believe in shea butter as a core value, and — (Laughter) and I think the world would be better if we were more moisturized. But besides that, with these as my core values, I have to speak the truth. I have no other choice in the matter. But people like me, the professional troublemakers, should not be the only ones who are committed to being these dominoes who are always falling out of planes or being the first one to take this hit. People are so afraid of these acute consequences, not realizing that there are many times when we walk in rooms and we are some of the most powerful people in those rooms — we might be the second-most powerful, third-most powerful. And I firmly believe that our job in those times is to disrupt what is happening. And then if we're not the most powerful, if two more of us band together, it makes us powerful. It's like cosigning the woman in the meeting, you know, the woman who can't seem to get her word out, or just making sure that other person who can't make a point is being heard. Our job is to make sure they have room for that. Everyone's well-being is community business. If we made that a point, we'd understand that, for the times when we need help, we wouldn't have to look around so hard if we made sure we were somebody else's help. And there are times when I feel like I have taken very public tumbles and falls, like the time when I was asked to speak at a conference, and they wanted me to pay my way there. And then I did some research and found out the white men who spoke there got compensated and got their travel paid for. The white women who spoke there got their travel paid for. The black women who spoke there were expected to actually pay to speak there. And I was like, "What do I do?" And I knew that if I spoke up about this publicly, I could face financial loss. But then I also understood that my silence serves no one. So I fearfully spoke up about it publicly, and other women started coming out to talk about, "I, too, have faced this type of pay inequality." And it started a conversation about discriminatory pay practices that this conference was participating in. I felt like I was the domino the time I read a disturbing memoir by a public figure and wrote a piece about it. I knew this person was more powerful than me and could impact my career, but I was like, "I've got to do this. I've got to sit at the edge of this plane," maybe for two hours. And I did. And I pressed "Publish," and I ran away. (Laughter) And I came back to a viral post and people being like, "Oh my God, I'm so glad somebody finally said this." And it started a conversation about mental health and self-care, and I was like, "OK. Alright. This thing that I'm doing, I guess, alright, it's doing something." And then so many people have been the domino when they talk about how they've been assaulted by powerful men. And it's made millions of women join in and say, "Me Too." So, a shout-out to Tarana Burke for igniting that movement. (Applause) People and systems count on our silence to keep us exactly where we are. Now, being the domino sometimes comes down to being exactly who you are. So, I've been a shady somebody since I was three. (Laughter) This is me on my third birthday. But I've been this girl all my life, and I feel like even that's been the domino, because in a world that wants us to walk around as representatives of ourselves, being yourself can be a revolutionary act. And in a world that wants us to whisper, I choose to yell. (Applause) When it's time to say these hard things, I ask myself three things. One: Did you mean it? Two: Can you defend it? Three: Did you say it with love? If the answer is yes to all three, I say it and let the chips fall. That's important. That checkpoint with myself always tells me, "Yes, you're supposed to do this." Telling the truth — telling thoughtful truths — should not be a revolutionary act. Speaking truths to power should not be sacrificial, but they are. But I think if more of us chose to do this for the greater good, we'd be in better spaces than we are right now. Speaking of the greater good, I think we commit ourselves to telling truths to build bridges to common ground, and bridges that aren't based on truth will collapse. So it is our job, it is our obligation, it is our duty to speak truth to power, to be the domino, not just when it's difficult — especially when it's difficult. Thank you. (Applause) |
Why I'm done trying to be "man enough" | {0: 'An outspoken feminist, Justin Baldoni has been doubling down on his efforts to start a dialogue with men to redefine masculinity.'} | TEDWomen 2017 | As an actor, I get scripts and it's my job to stay on script, to say my lines and bring to life a character that someone else wrote. Over the course of my career, I've had the great honor playing some of the greatest male role models ever represented on television. You might recognize me as "Male Escort #1." (Laughter) "Photographer Date Rapist," "Shirtless Date Rapist" from the award-winning "Spring Break Shark Attack." (Laughter) "Shirtless Medical Student," "Shirtless Steroid-Using Con Man" and, in my most well-known role, as Rafael. (Applause) A brooding, reformed playboy who falls for, of all things, a virgin, and who is only occasionally shirtless. (Laughter) Now, these roles don't represent the kind of man I am in my real life, but that's what I love about acting. I get to live inside characters very different than myself. But every time I got one of these roles, I was surprised, because most of the men I play ooze machismo, charisma and power, and when I look in the mirror, that's just not how I see myself. But it was how Hollywood saw me, and over time, I noticed a parallel between the roles I would play as a man both on-screen and off. I've been pretending to be a man that I'm not my entire life. I've been pretending to be strong when I felt weak, confident when I felt insecure and tough when really I was hurting. I think for the most part I've just been kind of putting on a show, but I'm tired of performing. And I can tell you right now that it is exhausting trying to be man enough for everyone all the time. Now — right? (Laughter) My brother heard that. Now, for as long as I can remember, I've been told the kind of man that I should grow up to be. As a boy, all I wanted was to be accepted and liked by the other boys, but that acceptance meant I had to acquire this almost disgusted view of the feminine, and since we were told that feminine is the opposite of masculine, I either had to reject embodying any of these qualities or face rejection myself. This is the script that we've been given. Right? Girls are weak, and boys are strong. This is what's being subconsciously communicated to hundreds of millions of young boys and girls all over the world, just like it was with me. Well, I came here today to say, as a man that this is wrong, this is toxic, and it has to end. (Applause) Now, I'm not here to give a history lesson. We likely all know how we got here, OK? But I'm just a guy that woke up after 30 years and realized that I was living in a state of conflict, conflict with who I feel I am in my core and conflict with who the world tells me as a man I should be. But I don't have a desire to fit into the current broken definition of masculinity, because I don't just want to be a good man. I want to be a good human. And I believe the only way that can happen is if men learn to not only embrace the qualities that we were told are feminine in ourselves but to be willing to stand up, to champion and learn from the women who embody them. Now, men — (Laughter) I am not saying that everything we have learned is toxic. OK? I'm not saying there's anything inherently wrong with you or me, and men, I'm not saying we have to stop being men. But we need balance, right? We need balance, and the only way things will change is if we take a real honest look at the scripts that have been passed down to us from generation to generation and the roles that, as men, we choose to take on in our everyday lives. So speaking of scripts, the first script I ever got came from my dad. My dad is awesome. He's loving, he's kind, he's sensitive, he's nurturing, he's here. (Applause) He's crying. (Laughter) But, sorry, Dad, as a kid I resented him for it, because I blamed him for making me soft, which wasn't welcomed in the small town in Oregon that we had moved to. Because being soft meant that I was bullied. See, my dad wasn't traditionally masculine, so he didn't teach me how to use my hands. He didn't teach me how to hunt, how to fight, you know, man stuff. Instead he taught me what he knew: that being a man was about sacrifice and doing whatever you can to take care of and provide for your family. But there was another role I learned how to play from my dad, who, I discovered, learned it from his dad, a state senator who later in life had to work nights as a janitor to support his family, and he never told a soul. That role was to suffer in secret. And now three generations later, I find myself playing that role, too. So why couldn't my grandfather just reach out to another man and ask for help? Why does my dad to this day still think he's got to do it all on his own? I know a man who would rather die than tell another man that they're hurting. But it's not because we're just all, like, strong silent types. It's not. A lot of us men are really good at making friends, and talking, just not about anything real. (Laughter) If it's about work or sports or politics or women, we have no problem sharing our opinions, but if it's about our insecurities or our struggles, our fear of failure, then it's almost like we become paralyzed. At least, I do. So some of the ways that I have been practicing breaking free of this behavior are by creating experiences that force me to be vulnerable. So if there's something I'm experiencing shame around in my life, I practice diving straight into it, no matter how scary it is — and sometimes, even publicly. Because then in doing so I take away its power, and my display of vulnerability can in some cases give other men permission to do the same. As an example, a little while ago I was wrestling with an issue in my life that I knew I needed to talk to my guy friends about, but I was so paralyzed by fear that they would judge me and see me as weak and I would lose my standing as a leader that I knew I had to take them out of town on a three-day guys trip — (Laughter) Just to open up. And guess what? It wasn't until the end of the third day that I finally found the strength to talk to them about what I was going through. But when I did, something amazing happened. I realized that I wasn't alone, because my guys had also been struggling. And as soon as I found the strength and the courage to share my shame, it was gone. Now, I've learned over time that if I want to practice vulnerability, then I need to build myself a system of accountability. So I've been really blessed as an actor. I've built a really wonderful fan base, really, really sweet and engaged, and so I decided to use my social platform as kind of this Trojan horse wherein I could create a daily practice of authenticity and vulnerability. The response has been incredible. It's been affirming, it's been heartwarming. I get tons of love and press and positive messages daily. But it's all from a certain demographic: women. (Laughter) This is real. Why are only women following me? Where are the men? (Laughter) About a year ago, I posted this photo. Now, afterwards, I was scrolling through some of the comments, and I noticed that one of my female fans had tagged her boyfriend in the picture, and her boyfriend responded by saying, "Please stop tagging me in gay shit. Thx." (Laughter) As if being gay makes you less of a man, right? So I took a deep breath, and I responded. I said, very politely, that I was just curious, because I'm on an exploration of masculinity, and I wanted to know why my love for my wife qualified as gay shit. And then I said, honestly I just wanted to learn. (Laughter) Now, he immediately wrote me back. I thought he was going to go off on me, but instead he apologized. He told me how, growing up, public displays of affection were looked down on. He told me that he was wrestling and struggling with his ego, and how much he loved his girlfriend and how thankful he was for her patience. And then a few weeks later, he messaged me again. This time he sent me a photo of him on one knee proposing. (Applause) And all he said was, "Thank you." I've been this guy. I get it. See, publicly, he was just playing his role, rejecting the feminine, right? But secretly he was waiting for permission to express himself, to be seen, to be heard, and all he needed was another man holding him accountable and creating a safe space for him to feel, and the transformation was instant. I loved this experience, because it showed me that transformation is possible, even over direct messages. So I wanted to figure out how I could reach more men, but of course none of them were following me. (Laughter) So I tried an experiment. I started posting more stereotypically masculine things — (Laughter) Like my challenging workouts, my meal plans, my journey to heal my body after an injury. And guess what happened? Men started to write me. And then, out of the blue, for the first time in my entire career, a male fitness magazine called me, and they said they wanted to honor me as one of their game-changers. (Laughter) Was that really game-changing? Or is it just conforming? And see, that's the problem. It's totally cool for men to follow me when I talk about guy stuff and I conform to gender norms. But if I talk about how much I love my wife or my daughter or my 10-day-old son, how I believe that marriage is challenging but beautiful, or how as a man I struggle with body dysmorphia, or if I promote gender equality, then only the women show up. Where are the men? So men, men, men, men! (Applause) I understand. Growing up, we tend to challenge each other. We've got to be the toughest, the strongest, the bravest men that we can be. And for many of us, myself included, our identities are wrapped up in whether or not at the end of the day we feel like we're man enough. But I've got a challenge for all the guys, because men love challenges. (Laughter) I challenge you to see if you can use the same qualities that you feel make you a man to go deeper into yourself. Your strength, your bravery, your toughness: Can we redefine what those mean and use them to explore our hearts? Are you brave enough to be vulnerable? To reach out to another man when you need help? To dive headfirst into your shame? Are you strong enough to be sensitive, to cry whether you are hurting or you're happy, even if it makes you look weak? Are you confident enough to listen to the women in your life? To hear their ideas and their solutions? To hold their anguish and actually believe them, even if what they're saying is against you? And will you be man enough to stand up to other men when you hear "locker room talk," when you hear stories of sexual harassment? When you hear your boys talking about grabbing ass or getting her drunk, will you actually stand up and do something so that one day we don't have to live in a world where a woman has to risk everything and come forward to say the words "me too?" (Applause) This is serious stuff. I've had to take a real, honest look at the ways that I've unconsciously been hurting the women in my life, and it's ugly. My wife told me that I had been acting in a certain way that hurt her and not correcting it. Basically, sometimes when she would go to speak, at home or in public, I would just cut her off mid-sentence and finish her thought for her. It's awful. The worst part was that I was completely unaware when I was doing it. It was unconscious. So here I am doing my part, trying to be a feminist, amplifying the voices of women around the world, and yet at home, I am using my louder voice to silence the woman I love the most. So I had to ask myself a tough question: am I man enough to just shut the hell up and listen? (Laughter) (Applause) I've got to be honest. I wish that didn't get an applause. (Laughter) Guys, this is real. And I'm just scratching the surface here, because the deeper we go, the uglier it gets, I guarantee you. I don't have time to get into porn and violence against women or the split of domestic duties or the gender pay gap. But I believe that as men, it's time we start to see past our privilege and recognize that we are not just part of the problem. Fellas, we are the problem. The glass ceiling exists because we put it there, and if we want to be a part of the solution, then words are no longer enough. There's a quote that I love that I grew up with from the Bahá'í writings. It says that "the world of humanity is possessed of two wings, the male and the female. So long as these two wings are not equivalent in strength, the bird will not fly." So women, on behalf of men all over the world who feel similar to me, please forgive us for all the ways that we have not relied on your strength. And now I would like to ask you to formally help us, because we cannot do this alone. We are men. We're going to mess up. We're going to say the wrong thing. We're going to be tone-deaf. We're more than likely, probably, going to offend you. But don't lose hope. We're only here because of you, and like you, as men, we need to stand up and become your allies as you fight against pretty much everything. We need your help in celebrating our vulnerability and being patient with us as we make this very, very long journey from our heads to our hearts. And finally to parents: instead of teaching our children to be brave boys or pretty girls, can we maybe just teach them how to be good humans? So back to my dad. Growing up, yeah, like every boy, I had my fair share of issues, but now I realize that it was even thanks to his sensitivity and emotional intelligence that I am able to stand here right now talking to you in the first place. The resentment I had for my dad I now realize had nothing to do with him. It had everything to do with me and my longing to be accepted and to play a role that was never meant for me. So while my dad may have not taught me how to use my hands, he did teach me how to use my heart, and to me that makes him more a man than anything. Thank you. (Applause) |
The secret language of letter design | {0: 'Martina Flor combines her talents as designer and illustrator in the drawing of letters. Through her work as an artist and teacher, she has helped establish letter design in the European design scene.'} | TEDxRiodelaPlata | Can you imagine what the word "TED" would have looked like if it had existed during the Roman Empire? I think maybe something like this. An artisan would have spent days in the sun chiseling it into stone. And in the Middle Ages? A monk, locked in his room, would write T-E-D with his pen. And without going so far back in time, how would these letters have looked in the 80s? They would have had electric, strange colors, just like our hairstyles. (Laughter) If this event were about children, I would draw the letters like this, as if they were building blocks, in vivid colors. And if it were about superheroes instead? I would do them like this, inspired by — in my opinion — the greatest of all: Superman. (Laughter) The shapes of these letters talk. They tell us things beyond what they represent. They send us to different eras, they convey values, they tell us stories. If we think about it, our days are full of letters. We see them on the front of the bus, on the bakery's facade, on the keyboard we write on, on our cell phones — everywhere. Since the beginning of history, people have felt the need to give language an image. And rightly so, because language is the most important communication tool we have. Without understanding what a word means, we can see certain things it conveys. Some letters tell us that something is modern — at least it was back in the 70s. Others verify the importance and monumentality of a place, and they do so in uppercase. There are letters not made to last long — and neither is the opportunity they communicate. And there are letters made by inexperienced hands that, whether they mean to or not, make us imagine what a place looks like inside. When I moved to Berlin, I experienced firsthand all the impact that drawn letters can have in our day-to-day life. I arrived in a new city, which was exciting and novel for me. Now, dealing with an unfamiliar language was at times very frustrating and uncomfortable. I found myself several times at parties clutching my glass of wine, without understanding a single word of what was being said around me. And of course, I'd smile as if I understood everything. I felt limited in my ability to say what I thought, what I felt, what I believed. Not only did I not understand the conversations, but the streets were full of signs and text that I couldn't read. But the shapes of the letters gave me clues; they would open up a little window to understanding the stories enclosed in those shapes. I recognized places where tradition was important. [Bakery Pastries Café Restaurant] Or I'd know when someone was trying to give me a signal, and my gut would tell me it was better to stay away. [No trespassing!] I could also tell when something was made to last forever. The shapes of letters helped me understand my surroundings better and navigate the city. I was in Paris recently, and something similar happened to me. After a few days in the city, I was on the lookout for something tasty to take back home. So I walked and walked and walked until I found the perfect bakery. The sign said it all. [Bakery] I see it, and even today, I imagine the master baker dedicating the same amount of time to each loaf of bread that the craftsman dedicated to each letter of this word. I can see the bread, with just the right ingredients, being kneaded softly and carefully, in the same way the craftsman drew the ends of the letters with smooth and precise curves. I see the master baker placing the buns over a thin layer of flour so the bottoms don't burn. I think of the craftsman putting the mosaics in the oven one by one, being careful to not let the ink run. The love for detail that the master baker has is reflected in the attention that went into creating this sign. Without having tried their bread, we already imagine it tastes good. And I can vouch for it; it was delicious. I'm a letterer; that's my job — to draw letters. Just like when you make bread, it requires care in its preparation, just the right amount of ingredients and love for the details. Our alphabet is at the same time my raw material and my limitation. The basic structure of the letters is for me a playing field, where the only rule is that the reader, at the end of the road, will be able to read the message. Let me show you how I work, how I "knead my bread." A while back, I was commissioned to design the cover of a classic book, "Alice in Wonderland." Alice falls in a burrow and begins an absurd journey through a world of fantasy, remember? In this situation, the title of the story is my raw material. At first glance, there are elements that are not very important, and I can decide to make them smaller. For example, I'll write "in" on a smaller scale. Then I'll try some other ideas. What if, to communicate the idea of "wonder," I used my best handwriting, with lots of curleycues here and there? Or what if I focused more on the fact that the book is a classic and used more conventional lettering, making everything look a little more stiff and serious, like in an encyclopedia or old books? Or how would it look, considering this book has so much gibberish, if I combined both universes in a single arrangement: rigid letters and smooth letters living together in the same composition. I like this idea, and I'll work on it in detail. I use another sheet of paper to work more comfortably. I mark some guidelines, delimiting the framework where the words will be. There, I can start giving form to each letter. I work carefully. I dedicate time to each letter without losing sight of the whole. I draw the ends of the letters methodically. Are they square or round? Are they pointy or plump and smooth? I always make several sketches, where I'll try different ideas or change elements. And there comes a point when the drawing turns into precise forms, with colors, volumes and decorative elements. Alice, the celebrity here, is placed at the front with volume in her letters. Lots of points and lines playing in the background help me convey that in this story, lots of things happen. And it helps to represent the feeling it generates, as if you had your head in the clouds. And of course, there's Alice, looking at her wonderland. Drawing the letters of this title, I recreate the text's atmosphere a little. I let the reader see the story through a peephole in the door. To do that, I gave shape to concepts and ideas that already exist in our imagination: the idea of dreams, of chaos, the concept of wonder. The typography and the shape of letters work a bit like gestures and tone of voice. It's not the same to say, (In a flat tone of voice) "TEDxRíodelaPlata's audience is huge," as it is to say (In an animated voice), "TEDxRíodelaPlata's audience is huge!" Gestures and tone are part of the message. By giving shape to the letters, I can decide more precisely what I mean to say and how, beyond the literal text. I can say my favorite swear word in a very flowery way and be really corny when I talk about love. I can talk loudly and in a grandiose way or in a soft and poetic voice. And I can communicate the difference between Buenos Aires and Berlin, two cities I know very well. It was precisely in Berlin where my work became more colorful, more expressive, more precise at telling stories. Everything I couldn't say at those parties, standing there holding my glass of wine, exploded in shapes and colors on paper. Without my realizing it, this limitation that language has became an engine that propelled me to perfect the tools with which I could express myself. If I couldn't say it by speaking, this was my way of talking and telling things to the world. Since then, my big quest has been to find my own voice and to tell stories with the exact tone and gesture I want. No more, no less. That's why I combine colors, textures and of course, letters, which are the heart. And that's why I always want them to have shapes that are truly beautiful and exquisite. Telling stories by drawing letters — that's my job. And with that I look for a reaction in the reader, to wake them up somehow, to make them dream, make them feel moved. I believe that if the message is important, it requires work and craftsmanship. And if the reader is important, they deserve beauty and fantasy as well. (Applause) |
The brain benefits of deep sleep -- and how to get more of it | {0: 'TED Resident Dan Gartenberg has spent his adult life trying to make seven and a half hours feel like eight hours.'} | TED Residency | What if you could make your sleep more efficient? As a sleep scientist, this is the question that has captivated me for the past 10 years. Because while the lightbulb and technology have brought about a world of 24-hour work and productivity, it has come at the cost of our naturally occurring circadian rhythm and our body's need for sleep. The circadian rhythm dictates our energy level throughout the day, and only recently we've been conducting a global experiment on this rhythm, which is putting our sleep health and ultimately our life quality in jeopardy. Because of this, we aren't getting the sleep we need, with the average American sleeping a whole hour less than they did in the 1940s. For some reason, we decided to wear it as a badge of honor that we can get by on not enough sleep. This all adds up to a real health crisis. Most of us know that poor sleep is linked to diseases like Alzheimer's, cardiovascular disease, stroke and diabetes. And if you go untreated with a sleep disorder like sleep apnea, you're more likely to get many of these illnesses. But did you know about sleep's impact on your mental states? Poor sleep makes us make risky, rash decisions and is a drain on our capacity for empathy. When sleep deprivation literally makes us more sensitive to our own pain, it's not so surprising that we have a hard time relating to others and just generally being a good and healthy person when we're sleep-deprived. Scientists are now starting to understand how not only the quantity but also the quality of sleep impacts our health and well-being. My research focuses on what many scientists believe is the most regenerative stage of sleep: deep sleep. We now know that generally speaking, there are three stages of sleep: light sleep, rapid eye movement or REM and deep sleep. We measure these stages by connecting electrodes to the scalp, chin and chest. In light sleep and REM, our brain waves are very similar to our brain waves in waking life. But our brain waves in deep sleep have these long-burst brain waves that are very different from our waking life brain waves. These long-burst brain waves are called delta waves. When we don't get the deep sleep we need, it inhibits our ability to learn and for our cells and bodies to recover. Deep sleep is how we convert all those interactions that we make during the day into our long-term memory and personalities. As we get older, we're more likely to lose these regenerative delta waves. So in way, deep sleep and delta waves are actually a marker for biological youth. So naturally, I wanted to get more deep sleep for myself and I literally tried almost every gadget, gizmo, device and hack out there — consumer-grade, clinical-grade, what have you. I learned a lot, and I found I really do need, like most people, eight hours of sleep. I even shifted my circadian component by changing my meals, exercise and light exposure, but I still couldn't find a way to get a deeper night of sleep ... that is until I met Dr. Dmitry Gerashchenko from Harvard Medical School. Dmitry told me about a new finding in the literature, where a lab out of Germany showed that if you could play certain sounds at the right time in people's sleep, you could actually make sleep deeper and more efficient. And what's more, is that this lab showed that you actually could improve next-day memory performance with this sound. Dmitry and I teamed up, and we began working on a way to build this technology. With our research lab collaborators at Penn State, we designed experiments in order to validate our system. And we've since received grant funding from the National Science Foundation and the National Institute of Health to develop this deep-sleep stimulating technology. Here's how it works. People came into the lab and we hooked them up to a number of devices, two of which I have on right here — not a fashion statement. (Laughter) When we detected that people were in deep sleep, we played the deep-sleep stimulating sounds that were shown to make them have deeper sleep. I'm going to demo this sound for you right now. (Repeating sound waves) Pretty weird, right? (Laughter) So that sound is actually at the same burst frequency as your brain waves when your brain is in deep sleep. That sound pattern actually primes your mind to have more of these regenerative delta waves. When we asked participants the next day about the sounds, they were completely unaware that we played the sounds, yet their brains responded with more of these delta waves. Here's an image of someone's brain waves from the study that we conducted. See the bottom panel? This shows the sound being played at that burst frequency. Now look at the brain waves in the upper part of the graph. You can see from the graph that the sound is actually producing more of these regenerative delta waves. We learned that we could accurately track sleep without hooking people up to electrodes and make people sleep deeper. We're continuing to develop the right sound environment and sleep habitat to improve people's sleep health. Our sleep isn't as regenerative as it could be, but maybe one day soon, we could wear a small device and get more out of our sleep. Thank you. (Applause) |
How fake handbags fund terrorism and organized crime | {0: "Tommy Hilfiger's Alastair Gray polices the internet in search of counterfeits, rip-offs and brand abuse."} | TED@Tommy | Two years ago, I set off from central London on the Tube and ended up somewhere in the east of the city walking into a self-storage unit to meet a guy that had 2,000 luxury polo shirts for sale. And as I made my way down the corridor, a broken, blinking light made it just like the cliche scene from a gangster movie. Our man was early, and he was waiting for me in front of a unit secured with four padlocks down the side. On our opening exchange, it was like a verbal sparring match where he threw the first punches. Who was I? Did I have a business card? And where was I going to sell? And then, he just started opening up, and it was my turn. Where were the polo shirts coming from? What paperwork did he have? And when was his next shipment going to arrive? I was treading the fine line between asking enough questions to get what I needed and not enough for him to become suspicious, because what he didn't know is that I'm a counterfeit investigator, (Laughter) and after 20 minutes or so of checking over the product for the telltale signs of counterfeit production — say, badly stitched labels or how the packaging had a huge brand logo stamped all over the front of it — I was finally on my way out, but not before he insisted on walking down to the street with me and back to the station. And the feeling after these meetings is always the same: my heart is beating like a drum, because you never know if they've actually bought your story, or they're going to start following you to see who you really are. Relief only comes when you turn the first corner and glance behind, and they're not standing there. But what our counterfeit polo shirt seller certainly didn't realize is that everything I'd seen and heard would result in a dawn raid on his house, him being woken out of bed by eight men on his doorstep and all his product seized. But this would reveal that he was just a pawn at the end of a counterfeiting network spanning three continents, and he was just the first loose thread that I'd started to pull on in the hope that it would all unravel. Why go through all that trouble? Well, maybe counterfeiting is a victimless crime? These big companies, they make enough money, so if anything, counterfeiting is just a free form of advertising, right? And consumers believe just that — that the buying and selling of fakes is not that big a deal. But I'm here to tell you that that is just not true. What the tourist on holiday doesn't see about those fake handbags is they may well have been stitched together by a child who was trafficked away from her family, and what the car repair shop owner doesn't realize about those fake brake pads is they may well be lining the pockets of an organized crime gang involved in drugs and prostitution. And while those two things are horrible to think about, it gets much worse, because counterfeiting is even funding terrorism. Let that sink in for a moment. Terrorists are selling fakes to fund attacks, attacks in our cities that try to make victims of all of us. You wouldn't buy a live scorpion, because there's a chance that it would sting you on the way home, but would you still buy a fake handbag if you knew the profits would enable someone to buy bullets that would kill you and other innocent people six months later? Maybe not. OK, time to come clean. In my youth — yeah, I might look like I'm still clinging on to it a bit — I bought fake watches while on holiday in the Canary Islands. But why do I tell you this? Well, we've all done it, or we know someone that's done it. And until this very moment, maybe you didn't think twice about it, and nor did I, until I answered a 20-word cryptic advert to become an intellectual property investigator. It said "Full training given and some international travel." Within a week, I was creating my first of many aliases, and in the 10 years since, I've investigated fake car parts, alloy wheels, fake pet grooming tools, fake bicycle parts, and, of course, the counterfeiter's favorite, fake luxury leather goods, clothing and shoes. And what I've learned in the 10 years of investigating fakes is that once you start to scratch the surface, you find that they are rotten to the core, as are the people and organizations that are making money from them, because they are profiting on a massive, massive scale. You can only make around a hundred to 200 percent selling drugs on the street. You can make 2,000 percent selling fakes online with little of the same risks or penalties. And this quick, easy money then goes on to fund the more serious types of crime, and it pays the way to making these organizations, these criminal organizations, look more legitimate. So let me bring you in on a live case. Earlier this year, a series of raids took place in one of my longest-running investigations. Five warehouses were raided in Turkey, and over two million finished counterfeit clothing products were seized, and it took 16 trucks to take that all away. But this gang had been clever. They had gone to the lengths of creating their own fashion brands, complete with registered trademarks, and even having photo shoots on yachts in Italy. And they would use these completely unheard-of and unsuspicious brand names as a way of shipping container loads of fakes to shell companies that they'd set up across Europe. And documents found during those raids found that they'd been falsifying shipping documents so the customs officials would literally have no idea who had sent the products in the first place. When police got access to just one bank account, they found nearly three million euros had been laundered out of Spain in less than two years, and just two days after those raids, that gang were trying to bribe a law firm to get their stock back. Even now, we have no idea where all that money went, to who it went to, but you can bet it's never going to benefit the likes of you or me. But these aren't just low-level street thugs. They're business professionals, and they fly first class. They trick legitimate businesses with convincing fake invoices and paperwork, so everything just seems real, and then they set up eBay and Amazon accounts just to compete with the people they've already sold fakes to. But this isn't just happening online. For a few years, I also used to attend automotive trade shows taking place in huge exhibition spaces, but away from the Ferraris and the Bentleys and the flashing lights, there'd be companies selling fakes: companies with a brochure on the counter and another one underneath, if you ask them the right questions. And they would sell me fake car parts, faulty fake car parts that have been estimated to cause over 36,000 fatalities, deaths on our roads each year. Counterfeiting is set to become a 2.3-trillion-dollar underground economy, and the damage that can be done with that kind of money, it's really frightening ... because fakes fund terror. Fake trainers on the streets of Paris, fake cigarettes in West Africa, and pirate music CDs in the USA have all gone on to fund trips to training camps, bought weapons and ammunition, or the ingredients for explosives. In June 2014, the French security services stopped monitoring the communications of Said and Cherif Kouachi, the two brothers who had been on a terror watch list for three years. But that summer, they were only picking up that Cherif was buying fake trainers from China, so it signaled a shift away from extremism into what was considered a low-level petty crime. The threat had gone away. Seven months later, the two brothers walked into the offices of Charlie Hebdo magazine and killed 12 people, wounded 11 more, with guns from the proceeds of those fakes. So whatever you think, this isn't a faraway problem happening in China. It's happening right here. And Paris is not unique. Ten years earlier, in 2004, 191 people lost their lives when a Madrid commuter train was bombed. The attack had been partly funded by the sale of pirate music CDs in the US. Two years prior to that, an Al Qaeda training manual recommended explicitly selling fakes as a good way of supporting terror cells. But despite this, despite the evidence connecting terrorism and counterfeiting, we do go on buying them, increasing the demand to the point where there's even a store in Turkey called "I Love Genuine Fakes." And you have tourists posing with photographs on TripAdvisor, giving it five-star reviews. But would those same tourists have gone into a store called "I Love Genuine Fake Viagra Pills" or "I Genuinely Love Funding Terrorism"? I doubt it. Many of us think that we're completely helpless against organized crime and terrorism, that we can do nothing about the next attack, but I believe you can. You can by becoming investigators, too. The way we cripple these networks is to cut their funding, and that means cutting the demand and changing this idea that it's a victimless crime. Let's all identify counterfeiters, and don't give them our money. So here's a few tips from one investigator to another to get you started. Number one: here's a typical online counterfeiter's website. Note the URL. If you're shopping for sunglasses or camera lenses, say, and you come across a website like medical-insurance-bankruptcy.com, start to get very suspicious. (Laughter) Counterfeiters register expired domain names as a way of keeping up the old website's Google page ranking. Number two: is the website screaming at you that everything is 100 percent genuine, but still giving you 75 percent off the latest collection? Look for words like "master copy," "overruns," "straight from the factory." They could write this all in Comic Sans, it's that much of a joke. (Laughter) Number three: if you get as far as the checkout page, and you don't see "https" or a padlock symbol next to the URL, you should really start thinking about closing the tab, because these indicate active security measures that will keep your personal and credit card information safe. OK, last one: go hunting for the "Contact Us" page. If you can only find a generic webform, no company name, telephone number, email address, postal address — that's it, case closed. You found a counterfeiter. Sadly, you're going to have to go back to Google and start your shopping search all over again, but you didn't get ripped off, so that's only a good thing. As the world's most famous fictional detective would say, "Watson, the game is afoot." Only this time, my investigator friends, the game is painfully real. So the next time you're shopping online, or perhaps wherever it is, look closer, question a little bit deeper, and ask yourself — before you hand over the cash or click "Buy," "Am I sure this is real?" Tell your friend that used to buy counterfeit watches that he may just have brought the next attack one day closer. And, if you see an Instagram advert for fakes, don't keep scrolling past, report it to the platform as a scam. Let's shine a light on the dark forces of counterfeiting that are hiding in plain sight. So please, spread the word and don't stop investigating. Thank you. (Applause) |
How urban agriculture is transforming Detroit | {0: 'At FoodLab Detroit, Devita Davison supports local entrepreneurs and imagines a new future for food justice.'} | TED2017 | I'm from Detroit. (Applause) A city that in the 1950s was the world's industrial giant, with a population of 1.8 million people and 140 square miles of land and infrastructure, used to support this booming, Midwestern urban center. And now today, just a half a century later, Detroit is the poster child for urban decay. Currently in Detroit, our population is under 700,000, of which 84 percent are African American, and due to decades of disinvestment and capital flight from the city into the suburbs, there is a scarcity in Detroit. There is a scarcity of retail, more specifically, fresh food retail, resulting in a city where 70 percent of Detroiters are obese and overweight, and they struggle. They struggle to access nutritious food that they need, that they need to stay healthy, that they need to prevent premature illness and diet-related diseases. Far too many Detroiters live closer to a fast food restaurant or to a convenience store, or to a gas station where they have to shop for food than they do a full-service supermarket. And this is not good news about the city of Detroit, but this is the news and the story that Detroiters intend to change. No, I'm going to take that back. This is the story that Detroiters are changing, through urban agriculture and food entrepreneurship. Here's the thing: because of Detroit's recent history, it now finds itself with some very unique assets, open land being one of them. Experts say that the entire cities of Boston, San Francisco, and the borough of Manhattan will fit in the land area of the city of Detroit. They further go on to say that 40 square miles of the city is vacant. That's a quarter to a third of the city, and with that level of emptiness, it creates a landscape unlike any other big city. So Detroit has this — open land, fertile soil, proximity to water, willing labor and a desperate demand for healthy, fresh food. All of this has created a people-powered grassroots movement of people in Detroit who are transforming this city from what was the capital of American industry into an agrarian paradise. (Applause) You know, I think, out of all the cities in the world, Detroit, Michigan, is best positioned to serve as the world's urban exemplar of food security and sustainable development. In Detroit, we have over 1,500, yes, 1,500 gardens and farms located all across the city today. And these aren't plots of land where we're just growing tomatoes and carrots either. You understand, urban agriculture in Detroit is all about community, because we grow together. So these spaces are spaces of conviviality. These spaces are places where we're building social cohesion as well as providing healthy, fresh food to our friends, our families and our neighbors. Come walk with me. I want to take you through a few Detroit neighborhoods, and I want you to see what it looks like when you empower local leadership, and when you support grassroots movements of folks who are moving the needle in low-income communities and people of color. Our first stop, Oakland Avenue Farms. Oakland Avenue Farms is located in Detroit's North End neighborhood. Oakland Avenue Farms is transforming into a five-acre landscape combining art, architecture, sustainable ecologies and new market practices. In the truest sense of the word, this is what agriculture looks like in the city of Detroit. I've had the opportunity to work with Oakland Avenue Farms in hosting Detroit-grown and made farm-to-table dinners. These are dinners where we bring folks onto the farm, we give them plenty of time and opportunity to meet and greet and talk to the grower, and then they're taken on a farm tour. And then afterwards, they're treated to a farm-to-table meal prepared by a chef who showcases all the produce on the farm right at the peak of its freshness. We do that. We bring people onto the farm, we have folks sitting around a table, because we want to change people's relationship to food. We want them to know exactly where their food comes from that is grown on that farm that's on the plate. My second stop, I'm going to take you on the west side of Detroit, to the Brightmoor neighborhood. Now, Brightmoor is a lower-income community in Detroit. There's about 13,000 residents in Brightmoor. They decided to take a block-by-block-by-block strategy. So within the neighborhood of Brightmoor, you'll find a 21-block microneighborhood called Brightmoor Farmway. Now, what was a notorious, unsafe, underserved community has transformed into a welcoming, beautiful, safe farmway, lush with parks and gardens and farms and greenhouses. This tight-knit community also came together recently, and they purchased an abandoned building, an abandoned building that was in disrepair and in foreclosure. And with the help of friends and families and volunteers, they were able to take down the bulletproof glass, they were able to clean up the grounds and they transformed that building into a community kitchen, into a cafe, into a storefront. Now the farmers and the food artisans who live in Brightmoor, they have a place where they can make and sell their product. And the people in the community have some place where they can buy healthy, fresh food. Urban agriculture — and this is my third example — can be used as a way to lift up the business cooperative model. The 1,500 farms and gardens I told you about earlier? Keep Growing Detroit is a nonprofit organization that had a lot to do with those farms. They distributed last year 70,000 packets of seeds and a quarter of a million transplants, and as a result of that last year, 550,000 pounds of produce was grown in the city of Detroit. (Applause) But aside from all of that, they also manage and operate a cooperative. It's called Grown in Detroit. It consists of about 70 farmers, small farmers. They all grow, and they sell together. They grow fruits, they grow vegetables, they grow flowers, they grow herbs in healthy soil, free of chemicals, pesticides, fertilizers, genetically modified products — healthy food. And when their product is sold all over the city of Detroit in local markets, they get a hundred percent of the proceeds from the sale. In a city like Detroit, where far too many, far too many African Americans are dying as a result of diet-related diseases, restaurants, they have a huge role to play in increasing healthy food access in the city of Detroit, culturally appropriate restaurants. Enter Detroit Vegan Soul. Yes, we have a vegan soul food restaurant in the city of Detroit. (Applause) Yes, yes. Detroit Vegan Soul is providing Detroiters the opportunity to eat more plant-based meals and they've received an overwhelming response from Detroiters. Detroiters are hungry for culturally appropriate, fresh, delicious food. That's why we built a nonprofit organization called FoodLab Detroit, to help small neighborhood burgeoning food entrepreneurs start and scale healthy food businesses. FoodLab provides these entrepreneurs incubation, hands-on education, workshops, technical assistance, access to industry experts so that they can grow and scale. They're very small businesses, but last year, they had a combined revenue of over 7.5 million dollars, and they provided 252 jobs. Listen. (Applause) These are just a few examples on how you expand opportunities so that everybody can participate and prosper, particularly those who come from neighborhoods that have been historically excluded from these types of opportunities. I know, I know. My city is a long way from succeeding. We're still struggling, and I'm not going to stand here on this stage and tell you that all of Detroit's problems and all of Detroit's challenges are going to be solved through urban agriculture. I'm not going to do that, but I will tell you this: urban agriculture has Detroit thinking about its city now in a different way, a city that can be both urban and rural. And yes, I know, these stories are small, these stories are neighborhood-based stories, but these stories are powerful. They're powerful because I'm showing you how we're creating a new society left vacant in the places and the spaces that was disintegration from the old. They're powerful stories because they're stories about love, the love that Detroiters have for one another, the love that we have for our community, the love that we have for Mother Earth, but more importantly, these stories are stories on how devastation, despair, decay never ever get the last word in the city of Detroit. When hundreds of thousands of people left Detroit, and they left us for dead, those who stayed had hope. They held on to hope. They never gave up. They always kept fighting. And listen, I know, transforming a big city like Detroit to one that is prosperous, one that's functional, one that's healthy, one that's inclusive, one that provides opportunities for all, I know it's tough, I know it's challenging, I know it's hard. But I just believe that if we start strengthening the social fabric of our communities, and if we kickstart economic opportunities in our most vulnerable neighborhoods, it all starts with healthy, accessible, delicious, culturally appropriate food. Thank you very much. (Applause) Thank you. |
What makes something go viral? | {0: 'As Publisher of BuzzFeed, Dao Nguyen thinks about how media spreads online and the technology and data that publishers can use to understand why.'} | TED Salon Brightline Initiative | Last year, some BuzzFeed employees were scheming to prank their boss, Ze Frank, on his birthday. They decided to put a family of baby goats in his office. (Laughter) Now, BuzzFeed had recently signed on to the Facebook Live experiment, and so naturally, we decided to livestream the whole event on the internet to capture the moment when Ze would walk in and discover livestock in his office. We thought the whole thing would last maybe 10 minutes, and a few hundred company employees would log in for the inside joke. But what happened? Ze kept on getting delayed: he went to get a drink, he was called to a meeting, the meeting ran long, he went to the bathroom. More and more people started logging in to watch the goats. By the time Ze walked in more than 30 minutes later, 90,000 viewers were watching the livestream. Now, our team had a lot of discussion about this video and why it was so successful. It wasn't the biggest live video that we had done to date. The biggest one that we had done involved a fountain of cheese. But it performed so much better than we had expected. What was it about the goats in the office that we didn't anticipate? Now, a reasonable person could have any number of hypotheses. Maybe people love baby animals. Maybe people love office pranks. Maybe people love stories about their bosses or birthday surprises. But our team wasn't really thinking about what the video was about. We were thinking about what the people watching the video were thinking and feeling. We read some of the 82,000 comments that were made during the video, and we hypothesized that they were excited because they were participating in the shared anticipation of something that was about to happen. They were part of a community, just for an instant, and it made them happy. So we decided that we needed to test this hypothesis. What could we do to test this very same thing? The following week, armed with the additional knowledge that food videos are very popular, we dressed two people in hazmat suits and wrapped rubber bands around a watermelon until it exploded. (Laughter) Eight hundred thousand people watched the 690th rubber band explode the watermelon, marking it as the biggest Facebook Live event to date. The question I get most frequently is: How do you make something go viral? The question itself is misplaced; it's not about the something. It's about what the people doing the something, reading or watching — what are they thinking? Now, most media companies, when they think about metadata, they think about subjects or formats. It's about goats, it's about office pranks, it's about food, it's a list or a video or a quiz, it's 2,000 words long, it's 15 minutes long, it has 23 embedded tweets or 15 images. Now, that kind of metadata is mildly interesting, but it doesn't actually get at what really matters. What if, instead of tagging what articles or videos are about, what if we asked: How is it helping our users do a real job in their lives? Last year, we started a project to formally categorize our content in this way. We called it, "cultural cartography." It formalized an informal practice that we've had for a really long time: don't just think about the subject matter; think also about, and in fact, primarily about, the job that your content is doing for the reader or the viewer. Let me show you the map that we have today. Each bubble is a specific job, and each group of bubbles in a specific color are related jobs. First up: humor. "Makes me laugh." There are so many ways to make somebody laugh. You can be laughing at someone, you could laugh at specific internet humor, you could be laughing at some good, clean, inoffensive dad jokes. "This is me." Identity. People are increasingly using media to explain, "This is who I am. This is my upbringing, this is my culture, this is my fandom, this is my guilty pleasure, and this is how I laugh about myself." "Helps me connect with another person." This is one of the greatest gifts of the internet. It's amazing when you find a piece of media that precisely describes your bond with someone. This is the group of jobs that helps me do something — helps me settle an argument, helps me learn something about myself or another person, or helps me explain my story. This is the group of jobs that makes me feel something — makes me curious or sad or restores my faith in humanity. Many media companies and creators do put themselves in their audiences' shoes. But in the age of social media, we can go much farther. People are connected to each other on Facebook, on Twitter, and they're increasingly using media to have a conversation and to talk to each other. If we can be a part of establishing a deeper connection between two people, then we will have done a real job for these people. Let me give you some examples of how this plays out. This is one of my favorite lists: "32 Memes You Should Send Your Sister Immediately" — immediately. For example, "When you're going through your sister's stuff, and you hear her coming up the stairs." Absolutely, I've done that. "Watching your sister get in trouble for something that you did and blamed on her." Yes, I've done that as well. This list got three million views. Why is that? Because it did, very well, several jobs: "This is us." "Connect with family." "Makes me laugh." Here are some of the thousands and thousands of comments that sisters sent to each other using this list. Sometimes we discover what jobs do after the fact. This quiz, "Pick an Outfit and We'll Guess Your Exact Age and Height," went very viral: 10 million views. Ten million views. I mean — did we actually determine the exact age and height of 10 million people? That's incredible. It's incredible. In fact, we didn't. (Laughter) Turns out that this quiz went extremely viral among a group of 55-and-up women — (Laughter) who were surprised and delighted that BuzzFeed determined that they were 28 and 5'9". (Laughter) "They put me at 34 years younger and seven inches taller. I dress for comfort and do not give a damn what anyone says. Age is a state of mind." This quiz was successful not because it was accurate, but because it allowed these ladies to do a very important job — the humblebrag. Now, we can even apply this framework to recipes and food. A recipe's normal job is to tell you what to make for dinner or for lunch. And this is how you would normally brainstorm for a recipe: you figure out what ingredients you want to use, what recipe that makes, and then maybe you slap a job on at the end to sell it. But what if we flipped it around and thought about the job first? One brainstorming session involved the job of bonding. So, could we make a recipe that brought people together? This is not a normal brainstorming process at a food publisher. So we know that people like to bake together, and we know that people like to do challenges together, so we decided to come up with a recipe that involved those two things, and we challenged ourselves: Could we get people to say, "Hey, BFF, let's see if we can do this together"? The resulting video was the "Fudgiest Brownies Ever" video. It was enormously successful in every metric possible — 70 million views. And people said the exact things that we were going after: "Hey, Colette, we need to make these, are you up for a challenge?" "Game on." It did the job that it set out to do, which was to bring people together over baking and chocolate. I'm really excited about the potential for this project. When we talk about this framework with our content creators, they instantly get it, no matter what beat they cover, what country they’re in, or what language they speak. So cultural cartography has helped us massively scale our workforce training. When we talk about this project and this framework with advertisers and brands, they also instantly get it, because advertisers, more often than media companies, understand how important it is to understand the job that their products are doing for customers. But the reason I'm the most excited about this project is because it changes the relationship between media and data. Most media companies think of media as "mine." How many fans do I have? How many followers have I gained? How many views have I gotten? How many unique IDs do I have in my data warehouse? But that misses the true value of data, which is that it's yours. If we can capture in data what really matters to you, and if we can understand more the role that our work plays in your actual life, the better content we can create for you, and the better that we can reach you. Who are you? How did you get there? Where are you going? What do you care about? What can you teach us? That's cultural cartography. Thank you. (Applause) |
How augmented reality could change the future of surgery | {0: 'The co-founder of Proximie, Nadine Hachach-Haram is a curious surgeon with a passion for technology and innovation -- and a desire to make a difference in the world.'} | TEDWomen 2017 | According to the theories of human social development, we're now living through the fourth great epoch of technological advancement, the Information Age. Connectivity through digital technology is a modern miracle. We can say it has broken down barriers of time and space which separate people, and it's created a condition for an age where information, ideas can be shared freely. But are these great accomplishments in digital technology really the endgame in terms of what can be achieved? I don't think so, and today I'd like to share with you how I believe digital technology can take us to even greater heights. I'm a surgeon by profession, and as I stand here today talking to all of you, five billion people around the world lack access to safe surgical care. Five billion people. That's 70 percent of the world's population, who according to the WHO's Lancet Commission can't even access simple surgical procedures as and when they need them. Let's zoom in on Sierra Leone, a country of six million people, where a recent study showed that there are only 10 qualified surgeons. That's one surgeon for every 600,000 people. The numbers are staggering, and we don't even need to look that far. If we look around us here in the US, a recent study reported that we need an extra 100,000 surgeons by 2030 to just keep up with the demand for routine surgical procedures. At the rate that we're going, we won't be meeting those numbers. As a surgeon, this is a global issue that bothers me. It bothers me a lot, because I've seen firsthand how lack of access to safe and affordable healthcare can blight the lives of ordinary people. If you're a patient that needs an operation and there isn't a surgeon available, you're left with some really difficult choices: to wait, to travel, or not to have an operation at all. So what's the answer? Well, part of you are carrying some of that solution with you today: a smartphone, a tablet, a computer. Because for me, digital communications technology has the power to do so much more than just to allow us to shop online, to connect through social media platforms and to stay up to date. It has the power to help us solve some of the key issues that we face, like lack of access to vital surgical services. And today I'd like to share with you an example of how I think we can make that possible. The history of surgery is filled with breakthroughs in how science and technology was able to help the surgeons of the day face their greatest challenges. If we go back several hundred years, an understanding of microbiology led to the development of antiseptic techniques, which played a big role in making sure patients were able to stay alive postsurgery. Fast-forward a few hundred years and we developed keyhole or arthroscopic surgery, which combines video technology and precision instruments to make surgery less invasive. And more recently, a lot of you will be aware of robotic surgery, and what robotics brings to surgery is much like modern automated machinery, ultraprecision, the ability to carry out procedures at the tiniest scales with a degree of accuracy that even surpasses the human hand. But robotic surgery also introduced something else to surgery: the idea that a surgeon doesn't actually have to be standing at the patient's bedside to deliver care, that he could be looking at a screen and instructing a robot through a computer. We call this remote surgery. It is incumbent on us to find solutions that solve these answers in a cost-effective and scalable way, so that everyone, no matter where they are in the world, can have these problems addressed. So what if I told you that you didn't really need a million-dollar robot to provide remote surgery? That all you needed was a phone, a tablet, or a computer, an internet connection, a confident colleague on the ground and one magic ingredient: an augmented reality collaboration software. Using this augmented reality collaboration software, an expert surgeon can now virtually transport himself into any clinical setting simply by using his phone or tablet or computer, and he can visually and practically interact in an operation from start to finish, guiding and mentoring a local doctor through the procedure step by step. Well, enough of me telling you about it. I'd now like to show you. We're now going to go live to Dr. Marc Tompkins, an orthopedic surgeon at the University of Minnesota. He's going to perform an arthroscopic surgery for us, a keyhole surgery of the knee, and I'd like to disclose that this patient has consented to having their operation streamed. I'd also like to point out that in the interest of time, we're just going to go through the first steps, marking up the patient and just identifying a few key anatomical landmarks. Hello, Dr. Tompkins, can you hear me? Dr. Mark Tompkins: Good morning, Nadine. Nadine Hachach-Haram: Everyone from TED says hello. Audience: Hi. NHH: Alright, Dr. Tompkins, let's get started. So let's start with our incisions and where we're going to make these, on either side of the patellar tendon. So if you can make your incisions there and there, that should hopefully get us into the knee. MT: All right, I'm going in. NHH: Great. So we're just getting inside the joint now. So why don't we go around and have a quick look at the meniscus. MT: Perfect. NHH: Great, so we can see there's a small tear there on the meniscus, but otherwise it looks alright. And if you turn and head to this direction, follow my finger, let's have a quick look at the ACL and the PCL. That's your ACL there, that looks quite healthy, no problems there. So we've just identified that small meniscus tear there, but otherwise the fluid around the joint looks OK as well. All right, thank you very much, Dr. Tompkins. Thank you for your time. I'll let you continue. Have a good day. Bye. (Applause) So I hope through this simple demonstration I was able to illustrate to you just how powerful this technology can be. And I'd like to point out that I wasn't using any special equipment, just my laptop and a really simple webcam. We're so used to using digital technology to communicate through voice and text and video, but augmented reality can do something so much deeper. It allows two people to virtually interact in a way that mimics how they would collaborate in person. Being able to show someone what you want to do, to illustrate and demonstrate and gesture, is so much more powerful than just telling them. And it can make for such a great learning tool, because we learn better through direct experience. So how is this making a difference around the world? Well, back in my teaching hospital, we've been using this to support local district general hospitals and providing skin cancer surgery and trauma treatment. Now, patients can access care at a local level. This reduces their travel time, improves their access, and saves money. We've even started seeing its use in wound care management with nurses and in outpatient management. Most recently, and quite exciting, it was used in supporting a surgeon through a cancer removal of a kidney. And I'd like to just share with you a very quick video here. I apologize for some of the gruesome views. (Video) Doctor 1: OK. Show me again. Doctor 2: If you see here, that's the upper part, the most outer part of your tumor. Doctor 1: Yes. Doctor 2: So it's three centimeters deep, so this should be three centimeters. Doctor 1: Yes, yes. Doctor 2: OK, so you need to get a 3.5 margin. Doctor 1: I'm going to show you anyway and tell me what you think about it. NHH: We're also seeing the use of this technology at a global scale, and one of the most heartwarming stories I can recall is from the town of Trujillo in the north of Lima in Peru, where this technology was used to support the provision of cleft lip and palate surgery to children, children from poor backgrounds who didn't have access to health insurance. And in this town, there was a hospital with one surgeon working hard to provide this care, Dr. Soraya. Now, Dr. Soraya was struggling under the sheer demand of her local population, as well as the fact that she wasn't specifically trained in this procedure. And so, with the help of a charity, we were able to connect her with a cleft surgeon in California, and using this technology, he was able to guide her and her colleagues through the procedure step by step, guiding them, training them and teaching them. Within a few months, they were able to perform 30 percent more operations with less and less complications. And now Dr. Soraya and her team can perform these operations independently, competently and confidently. And I remember one quote from a mother who said, "This technology gave my daughter her smile." For me, this is the real power of this technology. The beauty is that it breaks boundaries. It transcends all technological difficulties. It connects people. It democratizes access. Wi-Fi and mobile technology are growing rapidly, and they should play a role in boosting surgical provision. We've even seen it used in conflict zones where there's considerable risk in getting specialist surgeons to certain locations. In a world where there are more mobile devices than there are human beings, it truly has a global reach. Of course, we've still got a long way before we can solve the problem of getting surgery to five billion people, and unfortunately, some people still don't have access to internet. But things are rapidly moving in the right direction. The potential for change is there. My team and I are growing our global footprint, and we're starting to see the potential of this technology. Through digital technology, through simple, everyday devices that we take for granted, through devices of the future, we can really do miraculous things. Thank you. (Applause) |
Adventures of an interplanetary architect | {0: 'Xavier De Kestelier is an architect and technologist with a passion for human space exploration.'} | TEDxLeuven | I must have been about 12 years old when my dad took me to an exhibition on space, not far from here, in Brussels. And the year was about — I think it was 1988, so it was the end of the Cold War. There was a bit of an upmanship going on between the Americans and the Russians bringing bits to that exhibition. NASA brought a big blow-up space shuttle, but the Russians, they brought a Mir space station. It was actually the training module, and you could go inside and check it all out. It was the real thing — where the buttons were, where the wires were, where the astronauts were eating, where they were working. And when I came home, the first thing I did, I started drawing spaceships. Now, these weren't science fiction spaceships, no. They were actually technical drawings. They were cutaway sections of what kind of structure would be made out of, where the wires were, where the screws were. So fortunately, I didn't become a space engineer, but I did become an architect. These are some of the projects that I've been involved with over the last decade and a half. All these projects are quite different, quite different shapes, and it is because they are built for different environments. They have different constraints. And I think design becomes really interesting when you get really harsh constraints. Now, these projects have been all over the world. A few years ago, this map wasn't good enough. It was too small. We had to add this one, because we were going to do a project on the Moon for the European Space Agency; they asked us to design a Moon habitat — and one on Mars with NASA, a competition to look at a habitation on Mars. Whenever you go to another place, as an architect and try to design something, you look at the local architecture, the precedents that are there. Now, on the Moon, it's kind of difficult, of course, because there's only this. There's only the Apollo missions. So last that we went there, I wasn't even born yet, and we only spent about three days there. So for me, that's kind of a long camping trip, isn't it, but a rather expensive one. Now, the tricky thing, when you're going to build on another planet or a moon, is how to get it there, how to get it there. So first of all, to get a kilogram, for example, to the Moon's surface, it will cost about 200,000 dollars, very expensive. So you want to keep it very light. Second, space. Space is limited. Right? This is the Ariane 5 rocket. The space you have there is about four and a half meters by seven meters, not that much. So it needs to be an architectural system that is both compact, or compactable, and light, and I think I've got one right here. It's very compact, and it's very light. And actually, this is one I made earlier. Now, there's one problem with it, that inflatables are quite fragile. They need to be protected, specifically, when you go to a very harsh environment like the Moon. Look at it like this. The temperature difference on a Moon base could be anything up to 200 degrees. On one side of the base, it could be 100 degrees Celsius and on the other side, it could be minus 100 degrees. We need to protect ourselves from that. The Moon also does not have any magnetic fields, which means that any radiation — solar radiation, cosmic radiation — will hit the surface. We need to protect ourselves from that as well, protect the astronauts from that. And then third, but definitely not last, the Moon does not have any atmosphere, which means any meteorites coming into it will not get burned up, and they'll hit the surface. That's why the Moon is full of craters. Again, we need to protect the astronauts from that. So what kind of structure do we need? Well, the best thing is really a cave, because a cave has a lot of mass, and we need mass. We need mass to protect ourselves from the temperatures, from the radiation and from the meteorites. So this is how we solved it. We have indeed the blue part, as you can see. That's an inflatable for our Moon base. It gives a lot of living space and a lot of lab space, and attached to it you have a cylinder, and that has all the support structures in, all the life support and also the airlock. And on top of that, we have a structure, that domed structure, that protects ourselves, has a lot of mass in it. Where are we going to get this material from? Are we going to bring concrete and cement from Earth to the Moon? Well, of course not, because it's way too heavy. It's too expensive. So we're going to go and use local materials. Now, local materials are something we deal with on Earth as well. Wherever we build or whatever country we build in, we always look at, what are the local materials here? The problem with the Moon is, what are the local materials? Well, there's not that many. Actually, we have one. It's moondust, or, fancier scientific name, regolith, Moon regolith. Great thing is, it's everywhere, right? The surface is covered with it. It's about 20 centimeters up to a few meters everywhere. But how are we going to build with it? Well, we're going to use a 3D printer. Whenever I ask any of you what a 3D printer is, you're probably all thinking, well, probably something about this size and it would print things that are about this size. So of course I'm not going to bring a massive 3D printer to the Moon to print my Moon base. I'm going to use a much smaller device, something like this one here. So this is a small device, a small robot rover, that has a little scoop, and it brings the regolith to the dome and then it lays down a thin layer of regolith, and then you would have the robot that will solidify it, layer by layer, until it creates, after a few months, the full base. You might have noticed that it's quite a particular structure that we're printing, and I've got a little example here. What we call this is a closed-cell foam structure. Looks quite natural. The reason why we're using this as part of that shell structure is that we only need to solidify certain parts, which means we have to bring less binder from Earth, and it becomes much lighter. Now — that approach of designing something and then covering it with a protective dome we also did for our Mars project. You can see it here, three domes. And you see the printers printing these dome structures. There's a big difference between Mars and the Moon, and let me explain it. This diagram shows you to scale the size of Earth and the Moon and the real distance, about 400,000 kilometers. If we then go to Mars, the distance from Mars to Earth — and this picture here is taken by the rover on Mars, Curiosity, looking back at Earth. You kind of see the little speckle there, that's Earth, 400 million kilometers away. The problem with that distance is that it's a thousand times the distance of the Earth to the Moon, pretty far away, but there's no direct radio contact with, for example, the Curiosity rover. So I cannot teleoperate it from Earth. I can't say, "Oh, Mars rover, go left," because that signal would take 20 minutes to get to Mars. Then the rover might go left, and then it will take another 20 minutes before it can tell me, "Oh yeah, I went left." So the distance, so rovers and robots and going to have to work autonomously. The only issue with it is that missions to Mars are highly risky. We've only seen it a few weeks ago. So what if half the mission doesn't arrive at Mars. What do we do? Well, instead of building just one or two rovers like we did on the Moon, we're going to build hundreds of them. And it's a bit like a termite's mound, you know? Termites, I would take half of the colony of the termites away, they would still be able to build the mound. It might take a little bit longer. Same here. If half of our rovers or robots don't arrive, well, it will take a bit longer, but you will still be able to do it. So here we even have three different rovers. In the back, you see the digger. It's really good at digging regolith. Then we have the transporter, great at taking regolith and bringing it to the structure. And the last ones, the little ones with the little legs, they don't need to move a lot. What they do is they go and sit on a layer of regolith and then microwave it together, and layer by layer create that dome structure. Now — we also want to try that out, so we went out on a road trip, and we created our own swarm of robots. There you go. So we built 10 of those. It's a small swarm. And we took six tons of sand, and we tried out how these little robots would actually be able to move sand around, Earth sand in this case. And they were not teleoperated. Right? Nobody was telling them go left, go right, or giving them a predescribed path. No. They were given a task: move sand from this area to that area. And if they came across an obstacle, like a rock, they had to sort it out themselves. Or they came across another robot, they had to be able to make decisions. Or even if half of them fell out, their batteries died, they still had to be able to finish that task. Now, I've talked about redundancy. But that was not only with the robots. It was also with the habitats. On the Mars project, we decided to do three domes, because if one didn't arrive, the other two could still form a base, and that was mainly because each of the domes actually have a life support system built in the floor, so they can work independently. So in a way, you might think, well, this is pretty crazy. Why would you, as an architect, get involved in space? Because it's such a technical field. Well, I'm actually really convinced that from a creative view or a design view, you are able to solve really hard and really constrained problems. And I really feel that there is a place for design and architecture in projects like interplanetary habitation. Thank you. (Applause) |
A bold plan to house 100 million people | {0: 'Gautam Bhan studies how cities produce and reproduce poverty and inequality.'} | TED Talks India | Shah Rukh Khan: Be it Mumbai or Delhi, Chennai or Kolkata, all our big cities have one great thing in common, they happily welcome people from smaller places arriving in search of work. What is also true is that this warm welcome leads to consequences. Problems like housing in these cities are born. Today we have with us a human settlement expert and researcher: Dr. Gautam Bhan, who is re-imagining a solution to this increasing problem. He will share with us the new picture of urban India that he can see. TED Talks India New Thoughts welcomes Dr. Gautam Bhan. Dr. Gautam Bhan, everyone. (Applause) Gautam Bhan: In this country, until a few years ago, if you asked someone: "Where are you from?" the answer would be Delhi, Mumbai, Kolkata. You'd immediately ask again: "Where do you belong?" Until recently in India, nobody was from a city; people only migrated to the city. This is changing. Urbanization is changing India, but are our cities prepared? Let's assume you were born somewhere else. Your parents worked as laborers all day. Then you too would have come to a city for progress. Or maybe, like it happens today, you were born in the city itself. One day you go out looking for an accommodation in the city, to buy or maybe just to rent. Will you be able find an affordable home? The government says we are falling short of at least 20 million homes. 20 million homes, that's 100 million people. And this is not the shortage of 3 BHKs (bedroom hall kitchen). 95 percent of the shortage is for people earning 10 to 15,000 rupees per month. Will you be able to find an affordable home in this budget? If this happened with you, what would you do? Home is not a car or some sort of jewellery. Home is food and clothes. Nobody can live without it. If you couldn't find a home in a city to either buy or rent, you too would be driven to do what most people end up doing. Make a home wherever possible. You too would make a settlement. The government may keep calling it a slum, but like the people living there, I too will call it a settlement. One hundred million are not homeless. They have homes. Homes they built on their own. But most of these homes are in settlements. This is the truth of an affordable home in India. The homes in settlements are cheap, but not sturdy. The homes outside are sturdy, but not cheap. (Applause) We will have to lay the foundation of a new thought from here itself. A settlement is not a problem; it is a solution. We just have to make it secure and sturdy. To fulfill the shortage of 20 million homes you cannot make 20 million 25 square foot flats, and neither should you be making them. For example take the Karnataka government. They have a very good record in this. By 2020, Karnataka needs 2.6 million homes. In the last ten years they have managed to make 350,000 homes. Even if a government tries with complete sincerity, it cannot fulfill this need in the next couple of lifetimes. If we do not make new homes, then what is the next solution? How to make a settlement secure? Firstly, eviction needs to be stopped. Bulldozing needs to be stopped. Never has that resulted in progress in the past, nor will it in the future. (Applause) We have to start believing that the laborers who build and run the city have a right over the land of that city. (Applause) I know you are thinking that settlements are made on illegally captured land, but capturing of land never happens in the dead of the night. Whether the land belongs to the government or not, a settlement is never formed secretly. It is inhabited over time. The government also agrees that the settlements in our cities have been there for over 10, 20, 30, even 40 years. What kind of illegally captured land is this, which was ignored for 30 years and suddenly a day before eviction is declared illegal? A settlement can easily accommodate 15 to 60 percent of a city's population by using just one, two or maximum ten percent of the land. Can such a huge number of people not have a right over this small bit of land? A city's progress is often measured by the cost of its land. How do you ascribe a cost to the life of a person living on a piece of land? A settlement is not asking you for shiny homes; all it's asking for is basic necessities: electricity, roads, water, toilets and drainage. We call this upgradation. Here's an example of upgradation. In Ahmedabad, they started a program where for ten years, 44 settlements were promised there wouldn't be any eviction. Only a promise. Nothing written, no documents. And basic necessities were provided to them. In ten years that slum changed into a locality, a place, a world of its own. The government didn't have to build even a single new home. (Applause) Thailand launched this program at national scale, benefiting 100,000 people in 137 cities. And every person was given the right to live over that land. But pay attention here. Not the right to sell, but the right to live there, use it, settle on it. The whole world knows now that to move forward, we cannot remove settlements. We can only advance when we think of ways to make settlements secure and sturdy. But just one thing. If we know it, then why doesn't it happen? To apply this new thinking to settlements, we, that is you and me, need to look deep within and get rid of the disgust, disrespect and apprehensions that we have. Actually I should not be standing here in front of you today. A person from the settlement who lives there should be standing here. But if someone like that came here, you wouldn't have listened to him. You are listening to me, because you think I am not from a settlement. This is the very thought that needs to be changed. Thank you. (Applause) SRK: Thank you very much. Thank you, Dr. Gautam Bhan. Thanks a lot. Please tell me, you just gave an example of Thailand and the big thing there is the homes are for people to settle in, not to sell. They cannot be used for sale. Is there a similar thought process or program in our country too, inspired by your talks and those of people around you? GB: I wouldn't say by me, but by the people movement who are fighting for rights in the city. That is making a difference. For instance, in Odisha the Chief Minister, Mr. Patnaik, announced the same scheme: that all the people in settlements will have rights over that land. (Applause) And I think this scheme shouldn't be called populism; it should be called an economic development strategy. Because economic development does not happen from the top, but from the bottom. (Applause) SRK: I too promise I will only say settlements, and not slums, ever again. 100 percent. (Applause) Dr. Bhan you came here and said such wonderful things. There is a song. I will not sing it, as I am a terrible singer. GB: I too am a terrible singer. SRK: But we can't keep shut also, because we are saying wonderful things. (laughter) So we will just say it. Slowly the heart will find settlement. GB: Slowly the heart will find settlement. SRK: Only then will life be filled with love and fun times. (Applause) Ladies and gentlemen, Dr. Gautam Bhan. Thank you. (Applause) Thank you very much. (Applause) |
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