blink (blink)

Today was a day that my working on working was working. I went onto campus and saw a talk on fossil birds, then a discussion on the evolution of butterfly wing sizes. I submitted a job application, an abstract for a meeting, and sent in some requested comments on something someone had written on fungus-growing termites in Africa, as per my deadline.



I mean, what a day! I was like a biologist or something, doing what I was trained to do for once. It almost felt a little creepy.

Not only that, but I wasn’t late for anything. Nor obscenely early. By 6:50pm, I found myself in the campus union, crossing over to the Biology Dept. to see some Famous Biologist famously give some special talk at 7:00. Ten minutes to spare! As Thursdays go, this all seemed quite unprecedented.

So feeling free, feeling smug even, I picked up the campus paper to see what the world had to offer. (I have to grimly admit, the overturned Ford Explorer on the front page caught my attention). I opened to a random page a saw that in 10 minutes Malcolm Gladwell, The New Yorker writer, was going to give a talk just a few 100 yards away from where I was standing.

*Decision made*

I had been a good trooper all day, but as Science goes, Malcolm is far more my kind of empiricist, curious about things for the right reasons – because things are mind-blowing, and almost make sense, but not quite. Because they are interesting, but you don’t know exactly why. So ask, ask, just ask. then maybe ask again.



The room/atrium thing he was speaking in was already packed like a moving van, because our Mr. Gladwell, he is a hot ticket. There has been a lot of press recently on his hair, his new kooky 'fro. I walked to an obscure corner in the standing-room-only crowd, only to find him there (and me here) in a position arm's length! where I could touch the famous Malcolm Coiffure if I wanted to. It loomed in front of me, because as he was ensconced in the corner, sitting and crouched, signing some books before the talk.

...
He talked about his new book, “Blink,” which seems to be all about split-second, and first-impression, decisions. Having just made one to come to the talk, I naturally felt gratified. He shared an anecdote from his book about how once the Munich philharmonic used a canvas screen during auditions for a new trombonist, resulting in the first woman ever becoming a member of the symphony, much to the maestro’s dismay. Gladwell discussed the efficacy of physical screens or other things to obscure our snap-judgement biases based on skin color, looks, height, sex -- indeed, those things that might not really effect whole well you might play the trombone, or anything else, really.



It reminded me of the idea of the “veil of ignorance” that the philosopher John Rawls came up with in trying to develop an ethics of a just society. And here was the physical veil, coming up again and again in Gladwell’s talk.

He made the case that juries shouldn’t see the accused, and that this would no doubt change the racial bias in conviction. and no doubt he is right. with that and other things besides.

...
An older woman in a red dress asked a question at the end of the talk.

“One comment and one question, actually,” she said.

I suppose you know after all the symphonies started using canvas screens at auditions, and the number of women hired historically increased, they started to use screens raised three inched from the ground...?

...So they could see the auditioners shoes, you see.”

Ah. hm. touche.
What are the hopes for an equitable, Rawlsian society where we measure a person by the weight of their talent--rather than their girth, sex, race or anything else? I guess it depends how much you are allowed to peek…

At the least, it recommends avoiding heels at any upcoming symphony auditions, or some blindness of a generous sort.