Posts Tagged ‘Coney Island’
“The unpredictable and the predetermined unfold together to make everything the way it is.”*…
Thinking– worrying– about the future occupies more and more of our mindshare. How do we ready ourselves for the impacts of the playing out of the myriad uncertainties we face? Your correspondent’s approach-of-choice has been scenario planning (see, e.g., here and here), a method of thinking through and making sense of those unknowns. But as we do that, we have to think against the backdrop of “pre-determined elements”– forces that are going to accrue no matter how the uncertainties resolve, no matter which scenario unfolds.
Old friend and colleague Art Kleiner has dropped a thoughtful– and provocative– reminder of just how important understanding pre-determined elements is…
Pierre Wack, the scenario pioneer who built Royal Dutch Shell’s celebrated foresight practice, sometimes explained his methods by talking about the Ganges river in northern India. If there are heavy monsoon rains over the Himalayan headwaters, you can tell with certainty that there will be a flood five days later at Allahabad, which is 650 miles downstream. Five days after that, he said, the floods would reach Benares.
“Now the people down here in Benares don’t know that this flood is on its way,” he said, “but I do. Because I’ve seen it! This is not fortune telling. This is not crystal-ball gazing. This is merely describing future implications of something that has already happened.”…
… Most of us, peering ahead, fix on anxieties and uncertainties that may or may not happen: elections, technologies, and potential crises. We imagine what might happen, and get into the habit of thinking that our fate depends on this contingency. For instance, we pin our hopes on a particular candidate getting into office.
An alternative [your correspondent would suggest: “a critical complement”] is to look at the predetermined elements in our world as the playing field. When we recognize the true certainties, we can leap ahead to framing our choices and modulating our expectations. For example: We know it will take a long time to mitigate the effects of the climate crisis, so we invest accordingly in renewable energy. We also know our efforts to manage artificial intelligence need to happen practically overnight, so we work to rapidly build the necessary skills.
There are two kinds of predetermined elements. The first-order trends are basic and happening now. They follow directly from events that already took place — children already born, tons of carbon already in the air, debts already incurred. The second-order ones arise from the combination of first-order forces. Their effects are less predictable, but we can’t avoid the pressures they will place on us.
Taken together, they tell us the world of the 2030s will be markedly different from today and from most predictions being made today. For system leaders, a good list of predetermined elements gives you a start on developing scenarios that help you move to a creative orientation: creating the future you want.
I do a lot of work with scenarios, particularly at New York University’s Interactive Telecommunications Program, where I teach a graduate-level course on the future of media and technology. Here is my list of predetermined elements facing us today…
[Art shares a meaty– and bracing– list of both first- and second-order “pre-determineds.” He concludes…]
… The persistence of the ordinary. Against all the above sits the most underrated predetermined element of all: most people, most days, will live recognizable lives. The school, the clinic, the shop, and the family table endure because institutions change far more slowly than the forces acting on them. This is not complacency; it is the buffer that keeps the surprises survivable — and the reason that system leadership is generally local.
It’s as if we’re all driving down a treacherous highway. We notice the accidents and cars being towed off the shoulder, and the road rage as cars cut each other off. We don’t pay attention to all the drivers who stay in lane, leaving enough space between themselves and the car in front of them. Many of those drivers have experienced past accidents; they don’t want any more. If there were more of them, the road wouldn’t be nearly so scary. Uncertain: the prevailing attitudes and what it takes to bring people to a more system-oriented perspective...
[He then turns to the implications of his insight…]
… The discipline of scenario thinking is a discipline of attention. It tells us where to pay attention. Which predetermined elements affect us most? Which opportunities should we focus on? And which changes do we care about most urgently?
It is humbling and steadying at once: humbling because so much of the future is already decided, steadying because so much of it depends on what we do together.
The predetermined elements provide a working map. The first-order forces — the aging, the warming, the sun, the grid, the genome, the debt — are the ground on which the next decade must be built. The second-order combinations — cities, pressures, robots, possible relief — are where our work takes place…
Art’s conclusion is worth underling: first-order predetermineds are the terrain on which we will have to build our future; second order-pre-determineds are (a large part of) the agenda of issues we’ll have to address as we do; uncertainties are the unpredictable “weather” in which we’ll have to do that– guided throughout by our values and the hope that powers them. As Dennis Gabor said: “The future cannot be predicted, but futures can be invented.”
We already know much of what’s coming in the 2030s: “The Futures We Can’t Avoid.” Eminently worth reading in full.
* Tom Stoppard
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As we buckle up, we might recall that it was on this date in 1927 that “The Cyclone,” a wooden roller coaster in Luna Park at Coney Island, opened to the public. It wasn’t the first roller coaster at Coney Island; but with total track length of 2,640 feet, a maximum height of 75 feet, and cars that reached 60 miles per hour on a ride, The Cyclone became a signature attraction. Operating still, it was declared a New York City designated landmark in 1988 and was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1991.
“Round and round she goes”*…
Long-time readers will know of your correspondent’s affection for roller coasters (e.g., here, and here) and those who design them (e.g., here). Today, a(nother) example from Coney Island…
… in 1917 [Coney Island] added an unusual attraction called the Scenic Spiral Wheel, better known as The Top. It was a 45 ton, 70 foot diameter steel wheel that was tipped towards its heavier side where it rested on its bottom edge. Roller coaster track spiraled around its outer rim from its top to its bottom. As the four-car train circled the rim of the wheel, its weight changed the wheel’s tilt so that the entire rig gyrated around like a top running low on spin. The train slowly spiraled down and covered 3200 feet of track in two and one half minutes. A second train with a separate admission climbed up to the top of the wheel, then descended through a long tunnel. The wheel was more interesting to watch than to ride, and consequently only lasted through the 1921 season…
And it is interesting to watch:
History via Pounce-Matics Amuse-Matics; video via Boing Boing.
* from Major Bowes Original Amateur Hour (the radio show that transferred to television as Ted Mack and the Original Amateur Hour)
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As we strap in, we might recall that it was on this date in 1972 that a very different sort of ride– “If You Had Wings”– opened at Walt Disney World In Florida. A two-person Omnimover dark ride in Tomorrowland in the Magic Kingdom, it was sponsored by Eastern Air Lines and featured travel destinations (mainly in the Caribbean), all of which were served by Eastern.
… Guests passed through a series of colorful theater-like sets with rear-projected short scenes of straw-hat markets, fishermen, limbo dancers, and steel drum bands. Locations featured various Eastern destinations, like Mexico, Bermuda, Puerto Rico, the Bahamas, Jamaica, Trinidad, and New Orleans.
Then, the vehicles reclined into a room with projected snippets of flights taking off on an ovoid-shaped surface. Next, film of snow-covered mountains reflected on floor-to-ceiling mirrors.
As guests disembarked to an area containing an Eastern Air Lines reservation desk, an agent stood ready to assist riders with travel arrangements…
In 1987, Eastern withdrew its sponsorship) not too long before they went defunct. Soon after, Delta became the sponsor and focus; they withdrew in 1997. The space was then refurbished and turned into Buzz Lightyear’s Space Ranger Spin, which opened in 1998… The Buzz experience is skeletally similar to “If You Had Wings”– but riders can control the rotation of their vehicle via joysticks, and are armed with laser cannons to shoot at targets stationed throughout the attraction.
“Food is not rational. Food is culture, habit, craving, and identity”*…
Your correspondent is heading several time zones away, so (Roughly) Daily will be on hiatus for a week. Meantime…
Kelly Alexander on the very real way in which we are not only what we eat, but also what we imagine eating…
Despite the faux social science of trend reports, I have always been interested in the flavours that exert a hold on our collective hearts and minds. I’m especially intrigued by how the foods we seem to fetishise in the present – the artisanal, the local, the small-batch – are never the ones we seem to associate with the tantalising prospect of ‘the future’.
How do we know what will be delicious in the future? It depends on who ‘we’ are. For Baby Boomers who didn’t grow up on a diet of Dune-style scenarios of competing for resources on a depleted planet, it was TV dinners, angel whips and Tang – the instant powdered orange drink that became a hit after NASA included it on John Glenn’s Mercury spaceflight in 1962. That same year, The Jetsons – an animated show chronicling the life and times of a family in 2062 – premiered on US television. In one episode, mom Jane ‘makes’ breakfast for son Elroy using an iPad-like device. She orders ‘the usual’: milk, cereal (‘crunchy or silent?’ Jane asks Elroy, before pre-emptively selecting ‘silent’), bacon, and one soft-boiled egg, all of which is instantly beamed to the table…
For many students in my Food Studies courses at the University of North Carolina, the ‘future delicious’ conjures readymade meal ‘solutions’ that eliminate not just the need for cooks but the need for meals. This includes Soylent, the synthesised baby formula-like smoothies, or the food substitutes slugged by software engineers coding at their desks. It includes power bars and Red Bulls to provide energy and sustenance without the fuss of a dinner table (an antiquated ceremony that takes too long). Also, meal kits that allow buyers to play at cooking by mixing a few things that arrive pre-packaged, sorted and portioned; and Impossible Burgers, a product designed to mimic the visceral and textural experience of eating red meat – down to realistic drips of ‘blood’ (beet juice enhanced with genetically modified yeast), and named to remind us that no Baby Boomer thought such a product was even possible.
Such logic makes the feminist anthropologist Donna Haraway wary. It betrays, she writes, ‘a comic faith in technofixes’ that ‘will somehow come to the rescue of its naughty but very clever children.’ To Haraway’s point, the future delicious tends to value the technological component of its manufacture over the actual food substrate, sidestepping what the material culture expert Bernie Herman described to me as ‘the fraught and negotiated concept of delicious’…
More tastiness at: “What our fantasies about futuristic food say about us,” from @howamericaeats in @aeonmag.
See also: “The perfect meal in a pill?“
How do science fiction authors imagine the food of the future? Works conceived between 1896 and 1973 addressed standardised consumers, alienated by a capitalist society in pursuit of profitability. Were these works prophecy or metaphor?
* Jonathan Safran Foer
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As we dig in, we might recall that it was on this date in 1955 that Nathan’s Famous, on Coney Island, sold it’s one-millionth hot dog. The restaurant (which has, of course, grown into both a chain and a retail brand) had been founded by Nathan Handwerker in 1916.
“In the lingo, this imaginary place is known as the Metaverse”*…
The estimable Genevieve Bell looks back beyond Neal Stephenson’s Snow Crash to the deeper-than-you-might-think history of “the metaverse”– and explains the importance of understanding it…
…histories are more than just backstories. They are backbones and blueprints and maps to territories that have already been traversed. Knowing the history of a technology, or the ideas it embodies, can provide better questions, reveal potential pitfalls and lessons already learned, and open a window onto the lives of those who learned them. The metaverse—which is not nearly as new as it looks—is no exception…
I think there are even earlier histories that could inform our thinking. Before Second Life. Before virtual and augmented reality. Before the web and the internet. Before mobile phones and personal computers. Before television, and radio, and movies. Before any of that, an enormous iron and glass building arose in London’s Hyde Park. It was the summer of 1851, and the future was on display… The Great Exhibition of the Works of Industry of All Nations, as the extraordinary event was formally known, was the brainchild of Prince Albert, Queen Victoria’s beloved consort…
Just as there is a straight line from the Midway to Coney Island to Disneyland, there is a straight line from the White City to the 1939 New York World’s Fair to the Consumer Electronics Show. We can also draw a line between the Great Exhibition and today’s metaverse. Like the virtual world that the metaverse’s promoters promise, the Great Exhibition was a world within the world, full of the splendors of its day and promises about the future. But even as it opened up new spaces of possibility—and profit—it also amplified and reproduced existing power structures through its choices of exhibits and exhibitors, its reliance on the Royal Society for curation, and its constant erasure of colonial reality. All this helped ensure that the future would look remarkably British. The exhibition harnessed the power of steam and telegraphy to bring visitors to a space of new experiences, while masking the impact of such technological might; engines and pipes were hidden underground out of plain sight. It was a deliberate sleight of hand. If Brontë saw magic—not power, xenophobia, and nationalism—that was what she was intended to see.
I think our history with proto-metaverses should make us more skeptical about any claims for the emancipatory power of technology and technology platforms. After all, each of them both encountered and reproduced various kinds of social inequities, even as they strove not to, and many created problems that their designers did not foresee. Yet this history should also let us be alive to the possibilities of wondrous, unexpected invention and innovation, and it should remind us that there will not be a singular experience of the metaverse. It will mean different things to different people, and may give rise to new ideas and ideologies. The Great Exhibition generated anxiety and wonder, and it alternately haunted and shaped a generation of thinkers and doers. I like to wonder who will author this metaverse’s Bleak House or Alice in Wonderland in response to what they encounter there.
The Great Exhibition and its array of descendants speak to the long and complicated human history of world-making. Exploring these many histories and pre-histories can be generative and revelatory. The metaverse will never be an end in itself. Rather, it will be many things: a space of exploration, a gateway, an inspiration, or even a refuge. Whatever it becomes, it will always be in dialogue with the world that has built it. The architects of the metaverse will need to have an eye to the world beyond the virtual. And in the 21st century, this will surely mean more than worrying about ancient elm trees and the tensile strength of glass. It will mean thinking deeply about our potential and our limitations as makers of new worlds…
To understand what we are—and should be—building, we need to look beyond Snow Crash: “The metaverse is a new word for an old idea,” from @feraldata in @techreview via @sentiers (soft paywall). Eminently worth reading in full.
See also “So what is “the metaverse,” exactly?” (source of the image above).
* Neal Stephenson, Snow Crash
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As we stew over simulacra, we might recall that it was on this date in 1903 that Morris Michtom began selling stuffed bears in his toy shop on this day in 1903. Earlier, he had asked President Theodore Roosevelt for permission to use the president’s nickname, Teddy, to which the president agreed. Soon, other toy companies were churning out copies of their own “Teddy Bears”– still among the most popular children’s toys (and also popular as adult gifts signifying affection, congratulations, or sympathy).
“Part of the secret of a success in life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside”*…
A logistical note to those readers who subscribe by email: Google is discontinuing the Feedburner email service that (Roughly) Daily has used since its inception; so email will now be going via Mailchimp. That should be relatively seamless– no re-subscription required– but there may be a day or two of duplicate emails, as I’m not sure how quickly changes take effect at Feedburner. If so, my apologies. For those who don’t get (Roughly) Daily in their inboxes but would like to, the sign-up box is to the right… it’s quick, painless, and can, if you change your mind, be terminated with a click. And now, to today’s business…
After seeing the Open Data Institute’s project on the changing British Diet, I couldn’t help but wonder how the American diet has changed over the years.
The United States Department of Agriculture keeps track of these sort of things through the Food Availability Data System. The program estimates both how much food is produced and how much food people eat, dating back to 1970 through 2013. The data covers the major food categories, such as meat, fruits, and vegetables, across many food items on a per capita and daily basis.
In [a wonderful interactive chart], we look at the major food items in each category. Each column is a category, and each chart is a time series for a major food item, represented as serving units per category. Items move up and down based on their ranking in each group during a given year….
The always-illuminating Nathan Yau (@flowingdata) lets us see what we ate on an average day, for the past several decades: “The Changing American Diet.” Watch chicken zoom from behind… see carrots have a moment… puzzle over the state of dark leafy greens…
[Image above: source]
* Mark Twain
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As we ponder the perseverance of meat and potatoes, we might send tasty birthday greetings to Nathan Handwerker; he was born on this date in 1892. In 1916, with $300 borrowed from friends, he and his wife Ida started a hot dog stand on Coney Island– and launched what evolved into Nathan’s Famous restaurants and the related Nathan’s retail product line.
An emigrant from Eastern Europe, Handwerker found a job slicing bread rolls for Feltman’s German Gardens, a Coney Island restaurant that sold franks (hot dogs) for 10 cents each. Encouraged by a singing waiter there and his piano player– Eddie Cantor and Jimmy Durante– Handwerker struck out on his own, selling his hot dogs (spiced with Ida’s secret recipe) for a nickel. At the outset of his new venture, he reputedly hired young men to wear white coats with stethoscopes around their necks to stand near his carts and eat his hot dogs, giving the impression of purity and cleanliness.
Handwerker named his previously unnamed hot dog stand Nathan’s Hot Dogs in 1921 after Sophie Tucker, then a singer at the nearby Carey Walsh’s Cafe, made a hit of the song “Nathan, Nathan, Why You Waitin?”
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