Russell Brand and the hemline test

The fuss over Russell Brand's and Jonathan Ross's concept of a good joke is perhaps symptomatic.

ThisIsMoney.co.uk wrote as follows at the end of last year. "The hemline theory was coined by American economist George Taylor in the 1920s. It suggested that when times were good skirts got shorter because women wanted to show off their expensive silk stockings. Times have changed but it does appear that hemlines will drop in 2008, judging by this autumn's fashion shows. "

Times turning hard seem to correlate with a puritan backlash, and it looks like it's going to be particularly bad. A tough call for BBC senior management to anticipate the "culture war" dynamics in the UK. However, if we lose "Little Britain" it will all be worth it.

***

Have you noticed that a heated house in the cold weather feels different to the way it felt - unheated - back in the summer? The air temperature is just the same (the miracle of central heating) but as you walk around, there are areas which seem just sort of ... chilly?

I think this is due to cold walls and windows, which act as sinks for the infrared we all radiate. Just as we bask in the heat radiation from a warm fire, we can feel cold even in warm air if we're near a chilly object.

***

A week away from the US election and I'm still not sure that the US heartlands are warming to Obama the way the pollsters suggest. A recent focus group had this to say.

He'll probably win, but it might be more of a lukewarm endorsement, driven by the awfulness of the opposition. He wouldn't have this trouble over here - Obama has always struck me as a rather European politician.

The Northern Clemency – Philip Hensher

Is this just a superior soap opera? Malcolm and Katherine Glover live in a middle class suburb of Sheffield (it’s 1974) with their teenage children Daniel and Jane, and 10 year old Tim. The story opens as a new family moves in opposite: the Sellers from London. Bernie Sellers has taken a job as manager of the local CEGB power plant. He’s accompanied by his wife Alice, his bright but manipulative 14 year old daughter Sandra and his alexithymic son Francis, a little younger than Tim.

We follow the relationships within and between these couples and their children, augmented by a large supporting cast. The children grow up, the 1984/5 miners’ strike is smashed, and we transition to the post-Thatcher services economy of the early 90s.

A novel which repays the time devoted to both writing and reading it has to illuminate, not just entertain. Hensher has beautiful insights into the complexities of relationships. The author has god-like powers to throw events and betrayals of trust at his characters, and Hensher is unflinching. There will be few readers of this novel who will not recognise aspects of themselves in his characters, and in their ways of managing and just coping.

I particularly liked the way the author used Australian culture (somewhat romanticised I fear) as a vantage point to illuminate English awkwardness and inhibition. I was less impressed with the way he treated the revolutionary left in the early 80s (The Spartacists). His ‘comrades’ are uniformly unpleasant – spoiled brats with no basis in any kind of authentic idealism. His wonderfully nuanced character studies everywhere else in this novel might also have been extended to them. In particular, I don’t think the character development and eventual fate of Tim fully carries conviction.

But these are small points. In summary, the novel’s 738 pages effortlessly summon the reader to turn them, and it’s easy to feel a part of the communities Hensher has made so real, and a privilege to briefly share their lives. I found myself thinking that Bernie Sellers would be about 70 now!

In the spirit of Ian McEwan-style metafiction, on the penultimate page, an older and wiser Daniel buys a copy of “The Northern Clemency” and soon becomes engrossed. He tells his wife “it’s sort of about people like us.” It surely is.

This is an Amazon Vine Review here.

The Story of Maths Part 4

It's like shooting fish in a barrel, but here goes.

This was the final episode and Professor Marcus du Sautoy highlighted Cantor, Poincaré, Andre Weil, Kurt Gödel, and Alexander Grothendieck along with the familar melodrama of Galois's fatal duel. As usual, the programme had no idea of its audience, so talked about mathematicians rather than mathematics.

The explanation of Cantor's "diagonal argument", showing that the set of Reals is strictly larger than the set of Integers, was marred by the refusal to use the concept of"real number". Instead we had at various times "decimals" and "infinite decimals", which at best obscures the point.

Grothendieck was lauded for his work on the "structural reformulation of mathematics" without the phrase "category theory" being mentioned.

In a PC nod to the striking absence of top-level women mathematicians, a non-top-level woman mathematician was highlighted (Julia Robinson, who worked on Hilbert's tenth problem).

The theme of the programme was Hilbert's list of the 23 most important unsolved problems in mathematics as unveiled at the Paris conference of the International Congress of Mathematicians in 1900. Du Sautoy is himself focused on the Riemann hypothesis (problem 8 of Hilbert's 23) but this was never outlined, except to indicate it has 'something to do with the distribution of prime numbers'.

I did however think that the couple of sentence summary of Gödel's incompleteness theorem was probably as good as could realistically be achieved in the space available. And Paul Cohen seldom gets a name-check on TV.

I think the script team for these four programmes decided in advance that they would not attempt to convey any mathematics. In the default smug, patronising and faux high-mindedness of terminal Reithian broadcasting, they decided to make du Sautoy a regular bloke ("Look! He doesn't even know which way up Russian Cyrillic script should be - he's holding the St. Petersburg metro map upside down!") and show lots of holiday destinations, drinks in the local tavernas and and mini - racy if possible - bio-snippets of the most famous mathematicians (Gödel was saved by the love of a good woman ... right!).

So to be clear, that's a fail grade. There is still an audience of young talent out there who genuinely want to know more about real mathematics. Perhaps BBC 4 can stop patronising its audience and do it properly next time?

NOTE: Each of the earlier episodes has also been reviewed here in previous posts. Type "Story of Maths" in the search box, top left.

Alexithymia

In the Amazon Vine novel I am currently reviewing - "The Northern Clemency", by Philip Hensher - there is a character called Francis, a young man with the following characteristics.

He's intelligent, rather sensitive to his environment, but curiously aloof from other people. He doesn't do empathic relationships or girlfriends and his parent suspect he might be gay, although there is no evidence for it. Rather, there's a 'curious blankness' about that part of his personality.

Francis is perfectly competent at his government job, but his personal life is a void. He appears to have no inner drive to do anything, but is easily influenced by the suggestions of others. Faute de mieux, he does long walks, although at the point in the novel where I am at he has decided, on a recommendation, to do a solo trip to see Rome.

Coincidentaly I was re-reading "Emotional Intelligence" by Daniel Goleman and came across the description of alexithymia. Correlated with Asperger's syndrome but not identical, it was immediately clear that this was Francis. I hadn't heard of the condition before but it's described by the Wikipedia here, and there's an online self-diagnostic test (fairly obvious, given the syndrome traits) here.

Is the moon there when nobody looks?

Interesting article about this question, which puzzled Einstein, over at Cosmic Variance here.

The main focus of the post is the chaotic orientation of Saturn's moon Hyperion.

Gyles Brandreth

We went down to the local Andover theatre, The Lights, yesterday evening for "An Audience with Gyles Brandreth" (pictured).

Gyles Brandreth

Gyles has been an actor, producer and Tory MP. He's a natural raconteur with a slightly alarming booming voice. He certainly looked happy enough up there on stage, lapping up the laughter, and I could understand some unkind soul comparing him to a smug Cheshire cat (he represented Chester).

Our host had many amusing stories to tell us. He has written extensively about Oscar Wilde (murder mysteries), the actor John Gielgud and the royal family (he's a bit of a royalist).

At the end, we were impressed with the speed with which he scampered off the stage and round to the public exit for the book signing. What an extravert!

Rooksbury Mill Park

We went down to the Vodafone shop in Andover this afternoon so that Alex, currently with us for a couple of days after returning from a four-week holiday in Australia, could buy a Vodafone Internet connection (HSDPA 7.2 Mbps + WiFi via combined USB Modem).

Afterwards we visited the lakes at Rooksbury Mill Park for the first time, on the south side of Andover.

The larger lake at Rooksbury Mill Park, Andover

Alex and the author

Clare at the park

Alex proves that photography is not his central skill

Having got back, Alex reported a 3G connection at around 5 Mbps.

The Recession of 2009

Communication from the future to the past is 'difficult' but sometimes it works.

A reader from 2093 writes:

"Dear Ancestor, I read your blog set in the closing months of 2008, just before the great slump, and it appears that you knew nothing about it. Lots of chat about contemporary books, TV shows and other trivia but nothing about the greatest event in the early 21st century. What were you thinking of?"

I reply as follows.

"Dear Descendant,

It is often the case that events experienced at the time have a different feel than their refraction and distillation (if I may mix metaphors) through the lenses of later historians. An interesting example is the following book:

A Country Parson. James Woodforde's Diary 1759-1802

which I once owned.

As a reviewer writes here, 'Woodforde occasionally ventures into the outside world and often finds it alarming - a trip to London sees the King (George III) insulted by the mob. There is some comment on outside events, such as the French Wars, and the American colonial rebellion, but on hearing the news of the fall of the Bastille, he gives it but the same importance as that of buying a crab. Woodforde's concerns are mostly parochial, but he does take a pride in the victories of Nelson, also from Norfolk.'

So we watched the banks all-but-collapse on TV, and worried briefly about some of our savings, but the banks got rescued. Then we heard horror stories about other people losing their life-savings in unlucky deposits, and felt for them. We watched prices go up, and economised, but did not suffer real starvation nor did anyone we knew. We understood that unemployment would hit the roof, but this had happened before in our lifetimes - especially under Margaret Thatcher - so we knew what that would be like (or we thought we did).

And we tried to get a feel for the underlying feedback/delay loops which had ensured that supply of goods and services had continued to increase exponentially, while underlying demand, fuelled by unsustainable debt, had suddenly collapsed, precipitating the crisis.

We listened to all the nonsense from politicians about how improved legislation and regulation would ensure that capitalism would never again engage in a bout of creative destruction, and we didn't believe a word of it.

So, dear Descendant, we were paying attention. It's just that like Parson Woodforde, there wasn't a whole lot we could do about it.

Best,

Nigel."

The Story of Maths Part 3

In which our presenter, maths professor Marcus du Sautoy, gets on to the beginning of real (European) maths: Descartes, Newton, Leibnitz, Euler, Riemann, Gauss, Bolyai, Lobachevsky.

Covering this pantheon of maths heroes involves, of course, travelling to their birthplaces and haunts, mandatory drinks with some of their descendants, and lots of forest walks.

Did I mention that maths is also sometimes mentioned? Yes, we saw on screen Euler's famous e^iπ = -1. Also an infinite series which sums to π²/6 - this was illustrated with drinking glasses, (allegedly) partially filled with vodka, although not in the correct ratios! And Leibnitz's notation for the calculus was also lauded. Of course, the significance of none of this was explained.

So although Adrian, Clare and myself found this episode the most interesting so far, it doesn't begin to pass any of the tests it must have set for itself. Fundamentally, the programme has no idea of its audience. It needs to use terms like infinite series, calculus, high-dimension non-Euclidean geometry, but has no confidence that the viewer will be able to understand any of it.

Don't ask me to write the script, but there has to be a better way.

An October Morning on Salisbury Plain

There won't be too many days, going forwards, when the weather will permit a walk out on the plain, so we decided to make the most of it. Tramping along the tank trails, after an hour we came to this copse, strikingly illuminated against the sky.

A copse on Salisbury Plain

A regular sight on Salisbury Plain is an aircraft dropping parachutists - too far away from us to make a good photo, unfortunately. There were army gliders too, thermalling under a beautiful cloudscape similar to the one pictured below.

Cloudscape on Salisbury Plain

As we walked back to the car, I mentioned to Clare that the kind of super-power which would allow us just to levitate off the ground and skim the remaining few hundred metres seems to be sadly lacking in imagination. Comic superheroes do things which can actually be easily accomplished with technology. They just internalise it in their bodies.

The author, photographed by his wife

We struggled to think of genuinely-imaginative super-powers. I suggested time-travel to the past, but Clare objected that this would just be voyeurism. Much better to do archaeology, where you 'visit' the past without disturbing the privacy of the inhabitants thereof!

Oh, and here's one we took earlier. Clare at Danebury Hillfort a couple of week's ago.

Clare at Danebury Hillfort