Where are you?

Sorry readers. Become rather focused on the new book. I’m working to have the first draft done by the end of the month, so not much time for anything else. Vaguely normal service will resume in April. I have managed to escape a little. I spent 3 days in Austria where I was involved with a series of innovation workshops for Porsche. Also a breakfast for KPMG and some government work on long-term risks. This was fascinating, although a little frustrating because I can’t talk about it.

It did remind me though of a conversation I had a while ago with a Ministry of Defence guy. We were talking about whether you could tell if you were right or not. For example, if you identify something as being a future issue, but you take steps to offset the risk and it doesn’t happen, were you right or wrong?

Similarly, I think there are a few vulnerabilities (risks) but if I mention them publicaly (in a book say) I might alert someone to an opportunity and something may happen. In this case would I be responsible for making this something happen? I think in a sense yes, which is why I’m keeping quiet.

To end a quote for you, which pretty much sums up what’s being going on with the new book (tittle now agreed but not quite public).

“You have to have an idea of what you are going to do, but it should be a vague idea.” – Picasso.

“The only home we’ve ever known”

“Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every “superstar,” every “supreme leader,” every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.” – Carl Sagan.

Typewriters vs. Computers

I like this (from Ryan Adams, the songwriter/musician).

“Your critical mind is an interrupter of your inspired true self. If you are daydreaming and you are in that zone, you have the 300-mile gaze, stuff is coming through, it’s like a scroll. It’s like dictation, it’s an act of faith, it’s like letting myself feel it. On a typewriter, it’s below chest level; you are looking through and beyond the dimension of the page.

On a computer, you will never not look at the screen. You will always follow the cursor. It’s a trap. You are a cat and your computer is a f—ing laser pointer, and you are just following your own trial.”

Daily Telegraph 4 September 2014 (page 25)

Thinking about 2014 in 1914

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I’m doing a public talk at the Museum of London later this month and have come across two rather good quotes, one about London and one about the broader context of politics.

“There are two great railways stations, one for the north and one for the south. The great roads out of London are 120 feet wide, with two divisions, one for slow-moving and the other for fast-moving traffic; and there will be a huge belt of green fields surrounding London.”
Aston Webb, talking about London in 2014 from the perspective of 1914 and showing that you can sometimes be roughly right.

“It is as certain as anything in politics can be, that the frontiers of our modern national states are finally drawn.”
The journalist H.N. Brailsford getting it horribly wrong in 1914.