Review: Gödel, Escher, Bach

By Alan Go

I don't quite know how I decided that the best way to follow up Steven Pinker's epic history of violence was by picking up another 700 page mammoth, but apparently this did happen, which is why I spent the Christmas holidays trekking through Douglas Hofstadter's most famous work, Gödel, Escher, Bach: an Eternal Golden Braid. For a certain type of geek, this is as close as you can come to a sacred book, with Hofstadter as some kind of god, or at least a prophet. When mentioned online, it is referred to with reverence, as its devoted followers drown out the odd detractor, with their unrestrained praise.

That may be overdoing it a little (or a lot), but the point still stands that a fair number of people consider this book to have played a major part in their lives. Entire university courses can be based around it.

At this point, I should probably try to summarise what the book is actually about, although I confess to being slightly nervous about doing so. Whilst fairly confident that I understand its central messages, I wouldn't say that I'm certain, and it wouldn't surprise me if some subtle point has passed me by.

It is not about Kurt Gödel, M.C. Escher, and J.S. Bach, at least not centrally. Instead, the main thesis of the book concerns how meaning can arise from meaningless symbols, by using formal systems which contain tricks such as self-reference, self-replication, recursion and strange loops, and by using tools such as paradox, infinity, and isomorphism, and particularly examining how this relates to the emergence of intelligence from unintelligent neurons. Throughout the book, the works of the three geniuses in the title are used as a touchstone to which all these concepts can be linked to, showing how the same ideas are mirrored in their work, and in real life.

Review: Ill Fares the Land

By Alan Go

Something is profoundly wrong with the way we live today.

This is the opening line of the late Tony Judt’s short polemic about the crisis the Left has found itself in. Anybody who reads this and immediately begins nodding with a sincere expression will find plenty to like, and will no doubt admire the verve with which the book is written. I am sure it is a sentiment shared by many, but difficult to express with clarity; a problem to which the book tries to provide the answer.

The first chapter happens to draw largely from the last book I had read, and reprints many of the graphs from The Spirit Level in its call to reignite the fight against inequality. The message is an important one, and is referred back to frequently in the following chapters.

Judt tries to provide a brief history of the Left since the second world war, from the great enthusiasm for state planning and welfare that immediately proceeded it to the rise of individualism in the 60s, Thatcherism and Reaganism, and the decline in our belief in social democracy since then. Much of this broad brushstrokes history is told in such sweeping statements that it is easy to become sceptical of the simplicity of the narrative. In any case, I will admit to being unqualified to pronounce upon the accuracy of his account.

Review: The Spirit Level

By Alan Go

Confirmation bias, seeking out evidence that supports our pre-existing beliefs, is among the most pervasive of our cognitive flaws, and something worth being on constant guard for. Whilst I may find life comfortable in the liberal, secularist space of ideas I have carved out for myself, I still try to recognise the danger of reading piece after piece that I agree with.

For these reasons, I attempted to restrain my enthusiasm after finding a book subtitled Why More Equal Societies Almost Always Do Better. I have written before about my fondness for a system of Rawlsian egalitarianism, and if I had wanted a book that provided empirical support for such principles, I doubt it would have looked too different. It can’t be too often that philosophical theories end up being tested against the evidence, so I was wary of any thesis that managed to show that one of my favourite thinkers has turned out to be exactly right. It all seemed slightly too fortuitous for my liking, but I was optimistic and hopeful.

The Artist

It may be a silent, French and shot entirely in black and white but awards sensation The Artist is not a conceited film, rather one of the most entertaining films of the year. The story of silent movie star George Valentin’s (Jean Dujardin) fade into obscurity following the arrival of talking pictures is full of humour and charm and will make you leave the cinema with a smile on your face.

Though it occasionally threatens to become self-parodying it is a gloriously beautiful throwback to a golden age of cinema that even The Artist itself admits is somewhat of a fantasy. A fantasy illustrated by the large sign reading HOLLYWOODLAND above this enchanting parallel world.

The actors, John Goodman’s slightly hammy performance aside, are wonderful and the incorporation of modern technique adds to the film without detracting from the romance. Not to mention Uggie the Jack Russell who plays the role of Jack the dog with scene stealing comic ability.

If I had one bone to pick with The Artist it would be the slightly underwhelming treatment of the Great Depression, however even this just emphasizes that you should suspend your disbelief and enjoy the experience rather than search too hard for hidden meaning.

This year has seen a cinematic yearning for the past, with Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris, and Martin Scorsese’s Hugo, both harking back to the same creative period as The Artist. Though all three are undoubtedly fine films, The Artist has a level of bravery, charm and raw entertainment that puts it a class above the rest.

As great a visual spectacle as any 3D James Cameron epic, The Artists deserves all the plaudits it will undoubtedly get.

Review: The Better Angels of Our Nature

By Alan Go

In the IGCSE English language paper, the question was posed as to what historical time period we would most like to live in, were we given the choice. For various reasons, I maintained strongly at the time that the present was mostly definitely the place to be.

I had only suspicions about an overly romanticised past to go on at the time, but now I can safely claim that I have all the empirical backing that I could need.

In Steven Pinker’s latest tome, ‘The Better Angels of our Nature’, he seeks to lay out all the evidence for the historical declines of physical violence in all its forms, encompassing everything from wars and genocides, to infanticide and spanking, before taking some time to examine the causes of these declines by delving into the worlds of neurology and psychology.

With 700 pages of text, and a further 100 of notes, the volume is an imposing one. It is hard not to be intimidated, when starting a new chapter, you look ahead and realise there are over 100 pages of information left to go through on the subject.

It is a testament to Pinker’s skill as a writer that such a hefty subject never descends into dull academic prose or incomprehensible jargon. Instead we are given sentences that flow easily, spoken with a voice that neither patronises nor simply lectures. Nothing is dumbed down either. Pinker has no hesitation in explaining concepts of proability, randomness, logarithmic scales and the like, in order to give readers all the necessary tools to understand the various graphs and patterns under examination. The comprehensibility provides no clue as to the grand scope the book is trying to capture as a whole. Were you to give any small portion to any interested layperson, they would most likely be able to read, understand and enjoy it without any great difficulty.

Review: The Goat Rodeo Sessions

By Alan Go

Yo-Yo Ma is perhaps the most famous cellist alive today, and one of the most highly awarded classical music artists, with 16 Grammies to his name. I’ve heard and enjoyed his playing for many years now, and although he is renowned for being to play many different styles of music, I never thought he would be appearing on an album like this one.

Not that it is easy to say what exactly this one is. Bluegrass probably comes closest, but there is a strong Celtic feel to some of the tracks, with others almost able to pass for classical chamber music.

This collaboration isn’t quite as unlikely as it sounds, Ma having worked with double bassist Edgar Meyer on two albums previously, and also with mandolin player Chris Thile on his Songs of Joy and Peace album. Celebrated fiddle player Stuart Duncan completes the quartet of string virtuosos, who recorded their music in James Taylor’s home studio.

Review: Uncaged Monkeys

By Alan Go

‘The anus is very important’- Adam Rutherford

I’m not sure how often several thousand science lovers get the chance to assemble in a single venue, but I’m guessing not very. Uncaged Monkeys provided an opportunity for people to let out their inner geek, and to do so with pride.

It brought together many of Britain’s leading science communicators, allowing them to talk about the subjects they feel most passionate about, in the knowledge that they had an audience who would find them just as interesting. We therefore had Simon Singh (author of The Code Book)  take us inside a real German Enigma machine, Ben Goldacre (author of the Bad Science book and blog) give a disturbing, highly energetic talk on blobbograms, funnel plots, and the danger of publication bias, and Adam Rutherford showing us his tribute to Nasa’s space shuttle era on the giant screen, complete with deafening music. And this was all in the first half.

Comedian Robin Ince, who presents Radio 4’s The Infinite Monkey Cage along with Brian Cox, was in charge of festivities. He came across as a reflection of a large part of the audience, a layperson who though without a formal science education, was completely fascinated by the discoveries and the worldview that science provided, making him the perfect host.

The 13th of December was quite the day to hear Professor Brian Cox, pointer extraordinaire, speak. The 2011 results from CERN had just been released, showing ‘tantalising hints’ of the much sought after Higgs boson, causing Cox to go as far as to say that the day could become one of the most important in the history of physics. With almost everybody in the room having at least some idea of what this meant, Cox had the chance to delve into details that he might not normally give to a public audience. There can’t be too many occasions when the audience doesn’t flinch while complex equations are flashed up on the screen, or who only end up listen more intently as gauge invariance is being explained to them.

The audience was invited to send in questions via Twitter, with the questions split roughly evenly between the serious, and the not quite so serious. Our very own Mack provided the first question, asking Brian to reminisce about eating pies at Oldham Athletic (I didn’t actually hear the answer given; I was laughing too much at the time). A live Skype call to Prof. John Butterworth’s booze filled apartment in CERN was inevitably plagued with technical difficulties, although he did manage to nod a few times, and say the word ‘breakfast’ once to humorous effect.

Any time that wasn’t spent carefully concentrating on the speakers was spent laughing. Being funny and charming seems to go hand in hand with being an effective communicator, and everyone was prepped with nerdy jokes that the audience lapped up. Ince and Cox are both of course, well practiced in this game, and could spontaneously send ripples of laughter through the audience with impressive speed and wit. The crowd didn’t care much about which mode they were in, enjoying Goldacre’s serious and reasonably dark presentation as much as Josie Long’s skit about Darwin throwing salamanders and eating turtles.

A love of science, and a desire to spend an evening celebrating it, was the main thing binding the audience together, but the principles of rationality and scepticism were also loudly on display, with Singh tackling the Bible code, and Ince and Cox feeling free to make jokes at the expense of witches, homeopaths, and the 'nobbers' who believe in ghosts. This perhaps explains why a large part of the audience's reaction to Alan Moore (writer of Watchmen and V for Vendetta) was one of good-natured bemusement, as he discussed his belief in a 2nd century sock puppet snake god.

It also explains the warm reception for Tim Minchin, as he arrived just in time to sing two distinctly irreligious songs to close out the show. The first was new, (about magic Woody Allen Jesus) and the second, which closed out the evening, was his atheistic take on Christmas, White Wine in the Sun, accompanied by an impressive Brian Cox on piano.

If the evening proved one thing for me, it was that science saturation is impossible. The event lasted far longer than I expected (running from 7:30 to 11:00), but if it had continued for twice as long, I could have stayed happily transfixed in my seat.

To experience the wonder, power, and sheer interestingness of science, this was definitely the place to be.