"...Maybe this sensation is why, in the past few years, there has been a resurgence of artisanal analog technology"
[no maybe about it - culture is reactive]
"It strikes me that the current fetishization of analog technology has less to do with nostalgia than it does with an urge to slow down the transfer of data from the internal to the external, from the individual to the collective, and to make it all less instant, less ephemeral, less interchangeable, and more tangible, more linear and more contextual."
[yep; there's always culture to react to. "Nostalgia" is just what we use to characterize its artifacts]
A few days ago I had been thinking on a complex problem, and it struck me that the easiest way to solve any problem is to first organize it.
It's not really that profound of a thought; really it just comes from my background as a trends consultant, since trends consulting is basically just a process of organizing information. It was back then that I started to realize that in many ways my primary talent in life, in many various facets, is simply: organization.
But the thought struck me deeply because I realized this has been my approach for as long as I could remember.
I instantly flashed back to being young - elementary school - finding it odd that people thought I was smart at least because I was so good at math. (Arithmetic didn't seem like something that should be hard, so it struck me as odd that people would use it to judge how smart I was.) In a way that I can only say in retrospect, arithmetic was supremely natural to me, because numbers are so easy to organize. One popular commenter on the video above feels like something I may have even tried to tell a classmate once upon a time: "You just shuffle numbers to make easiest, fastest way to process."
That strange feeling just kind of went away to the background of subconsciousness for a long long time.
And then I saw the above video.
It really hammers in the point that the "organization" philosophy is simply this:
To reality and the universe, information is the same no matter how it's presented - so organization can indeed seem superfluous. But presenting it in certain ways can make information mean different things to *humans*, and that is all the difference.
Quite a brilliant blending of varied cultural narratives across an array of levels. Beautifully complex blends of (at very least):
1) the narrative captured in the stories themselves
2) the narratives we construct around the individual actors and directors
3) the cultural eras associated with both of the above
That's one reason I love the notion of patina; here's another: the past 2 decades or so we've been trying to make objects [temporarily] "perfect." See below, keeping your iPhone and the camera above in mind.
(...and for the truly insightful explanation, of course turn to BERG)
A REVOLUTION in cognitive neuroscience is changing the kinds of experiments that scientists conduct, the kinds of questions economists ask and, increasingly, the ways that architects, landscape architects and urban designers shape our built environment.
This revolution reveals that thought is less transparent to the thinker than it appears and that the mind is less rational than we believe and more associative than we know. Many of the associations we make emerge from the fact that we live inside bodies, in a concrete world, and we tend to think in metaphors grounded in that embodiment.
This metaphorical, embodied quality shapes how we relate to abstract concepts, emotions and human activity. Across cultures, “important” is big and “unimportant” is small, just as your caretakers were once much larger than you. Sometimes your head is “in the clouds.” You approach a task “step by step.”
[...]
How many designers are clued in to the ongoing cognitive revolution and its potential for the built environment is unclear. But this collection of architects and projects herald more than just another stylistic or pyrotechnic, technology-driven trend. They point toward how the built environment could — and should — be radically reconceptualized around the fundamental workings of the human mind. We need, and are ever more in a position to create, a richer built environment, grounded in the way people actually experience the world around them.
This is why I have an entire Evernote notebook dedicated to collecting "design metaphors." Also I frequently recommend reading Lakoff / Johnson's seminal Metaphors We Live By.
Memes and popular culture are interesting to me, the cultural narratives that drive them more so. The manifestations (people are fond of calling them "memes" these days) are the conscious level, the narratives part of the collective subconscious.
One of those narratives manifests in a special kind of parody; as I see it it's sort of a reaction to the "extreme-ness" that millennials grew up with (think: 90's cereals and sat morning cartoons, polarizing political/cultural figures of the 90's, etc). Given enough prolonged exposure to an environment saturated by things espousing the 'extreme,' the natural response is to be wary of and mock the extreme.
This particular form of subconscious parody is captured consciously in the popularity of stuff like "Shit Girls Say"; if you're an ad type you might relate to http://fuckingcreatives.tumblr.com. And the above for the millenial yogaist. These personify the extremes of their respective personas, and their conscious popularity reflects the collective subconscious.
Stanford reviews a study showing how a simple change in wording can dramatically affect how we respond to the same information:
Psychology Assistant Professor Lera Boroditsky and doctoral candidate Paul Thibodeau have shown that people will likely support an increase in police forces and jailing of offenders if crime is described as a “beast” preying on a community. But if people are told crime is a “virus” infecting a city, they are more inclined to treat the problem with social reform.
And:
In five experiments, test subjects were asked to read short paragraphs about rising crime rates in the fictional city of Addison and answer questions about the city. The researchers gauged how people answered these questions in light of how crime was described – as a beast or a virus.
They found the test subjects’ proposed solutions differed a great deal depending on the metaphor they were exposed to.
And:
“People like to think they’re objective and making decisions based on numbers,” Boroditsky said. “They want to believe they’re logical. But they’re really being swayed by metaphors.”
The emerging discussion I personally found most interesting—and tested on Geoffrey West and others, who were receptive—was this idea of how we make public decisions. Given our cultures of decision-making, from the individual to the institutional, were designed in another time, is it any wonder these systems are struggling to deliver the kind of complex, longer-term, interdependent decisions we need to make today? Equally, we now know rather more about the way the individual and society works, and so have some idea that fundamental systems within the brain, such as the limbic system, seem to preference short-term decisions, for example, amongst a series of other unhelpful characteristics. So the thought occurred: how can we better design our approach to public decision-making, in such a way that the structures and cultures mitigates against our inherent “limitations”? (Please note the inverted commas there, indicating the obvious value judgement.)
[…]
How to mitigate against our short-termism? How to understand our intrinsic irrationality in decision-making—as Daniel Kahneman’s book does (and see this review) —and yet build systems that enable coherent, responsible, decisive and resilient decision-making nonetheless? How could we construct approaches that mitigate against the likelihood that humans tend to feel greater sympathy for those that resemble them (racially, for instance)? How to compensate for the “planning fallacy”, the demonstated over-confidence of experts in their abilities, and numerous other cognitive biases that might shape public, representative decision-making? Given research indicates these characteristics, are we sure our current approaches might absorb and compensate for these instincts appropriately? How do we foreground conscious and rational decision-making when our subconscious and irrationality apparently shape our decision-making? What kind of structures and cultures might flex smartly in tension with these forces?
Imitation is collaborative: It might be technically possible to dig back and find the originator of, say, Socially Awkward Penguin or Privilege Denying Dude, but the knowledge would be perfectly useless. Whatever life or value these things have lies in their reuse.