I make stuff up

[sabrianfonseca-blog]

Born good? Babies help unlock the origins of morality

Can infants tell right from wrong? And if so, how would you know? Come to Yale's baby lab. Lesley Stahl reports.

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In the past, graphic designers had to acquire the skill of drawing ten lines in between two lines one millimiter apart, as training for writing the kanji characters. Not long ago, we practiced this skill using a bow pen or drafting pen. I belong to the generation a little younger than the one that carried out this training to its fullest extent, but I remember that our generation's graphic design programs included similar training. Today, thanks to the computer, in theory we can draw a hundred lines, or a thousand in between those two lines. And so we can laugh off as nonsense the training of the old designers. But this isn't a matter of skill. It's a matter of sensory sophistication, or enhancement. The ability to draw ten lines in the width of the one milimiter proves that the individual's eye is so enhanced that he or she can perceive the width of one millimiter divided into ten parts. There are senses that are absolutely unattainable without undergoing the necessary training. The union of such a highly sophisticated sensory perception with the computer would bring into existence a stupendous power. As it is, it's meaningless if a person who has completely inept eyes also has a tool for drawing a hundred lines within the width of one millimiter. Of course, the computer can bring us sensation that were beyond the reach of designers of the past. It inspires in us such a dynamic and uplifting motivation that we're persuaded to abandon our antiquated sensory approach. The computer develops out sensory dexterity on a different stage than the one cultivted with our conventional method. On the other hand, however, unless we intentionally keep our senses active as well as receptive, software wil only blunt them. Fettering the sense to an overweight body that has neglected physical activity not only means giving up the extremely delicate sensitivity accumulated over a long period of time, it also threatens to destroy the possibility of a new field of design in which delicate senses and technology are encouraged to interrelate. A situation in which we awake one day to find that what is active is not our sense but only software, is not some kind of science fiction tale; it's already here, and it is prevalent. (...) It would be better if technology were to evolve in a more delicate manner, subtly correlated with the periphery of sensory perception.

Designing Design, by Kenya Hara

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Speaking of the pleasant feeling of complicated information, I’m reminded of the time I went to Bali on business with the interior designer Takashi Sugimoto. There are plenty of fancy resort hotels there, so I kind of figured we’d be staying at one of them. I was a little disappointed to hear from Sugimoto that he’d reserved rooms at an old lodging complex. ‘Those new resorts wouldn’t be very interesting’, he said, by way of explanation. The site of the more mature lodge covered a vast area, dotted with cottages and paved with old stone in every direction. Guests walk barefoot there, and I was rather surprised to find myself enjoying the feeling. When I thought about why that was, I realized that the stone pavement was worn away by decades of barefoot travelers, polishing the stones as they tread. My feet rejoiced at the feel of the stones. It was a wonderful feeling of familiarity—like cuddling my old cat— that came to me through the soles of my feet. When I think about it, I sense an extreme delicacy in the feeling I got from the stones worn away by the walking of fellow human beings. It’s hard to explain, but it’s probably a composite of minute discrepancies from stone to stone. Intuitively, I felt that the stones held a great amount of information. If I were able to input into my computer all the information coming from those stones, I’m sure it would freeze. I realized something then; although today’s society is said to be in a state of information overload, in fact it may not be an excess. It’s just an overflow of odd and fragmented information in the media. The amount of information in each fragment is in fact quite small. In this slew of half-baked information, isn’t the brain oppressed? The stress on the brain isn’t because of quantity, but because of limited quality. Agains the backdrop of the evolution of media and it powerful of news material and data, all of the world’s happenings are trimmed like lawn by a mower, with fragments of information flying about from place to place through the media as grass flies through the air. These broken pieces of information adhere to our tofu-like brain like spices sprinkled so thickly that they obscure the entire surface. For a moment, this makes us think we’re quite knowledgeable, but information tacked on the surface of the brain doesn’t amount to much when you add it all together. Conversely, the amount of information we receive through a sensual, pleasant experience via the soles of our feet is enormous. The human brain likes anything that entails a great amount of information. Its extensive capacity waits eagerly to perceive the world by completely exhausting its great receptive powers. That potential power, though, remains today in a state of extreme constriction and is a source of the information stress we’re all under.

Designing Design, by Kenya Hara

[sabrianfonseca-blog]

Evidence suggests that the less comfortable you are during the seasonal shopping spree, the more money you’ll spend. So stores crank up music, repeat the same songs, over and over again, pipe in smells, race shoppers around to far-flung points of purchase and clog their heads with confusing offers. All of which makes it more likely we’ll part more readily with more money. (...) Music played at high volumes, for example, may be irritating, but researchers from Penn State and the National University of Singapore concluded it was one of several factors that leads to overstimulation and “a momentary loss of self-control, thus enhancing the likelihood of impulse purchase.”

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/12/09/opinion/sunday/suffer-spend-repeat.html