johnwvincent

Legacy of Dilbert’s Humour

Cartoonists capture reality. Or at least, a snapshot of an ephemeral or enduring moment. It’s not photography. A cartoon’s realism isn’t about fidelity in the capture of a scene. It’s more focused on our perception of reality. No need for representative images full of depth and detail.

Absurdities and peculiarities captured by ink and pen can be sharp and masteries of observation. The flash of “who said what to whom” is a moment that displays the strange assortment and madness of everyday life.

To me the creator of Dilbert nailed a decade. That’s the 1990s. A time when management styles favoured open plan offices littered with cubicles. A time when of the evolution of computer networks connected office workers in a new and unfamiliar way. “You’ve got mail” was a positive thing.

Scott Adams[1] has passed at a relatively young age. His reputation not entirely intact. Now, I must decide what to do with the books I have of his. Charity shop or not? Element of his humour don’t fit the world of the 2020s. In some ways an even more absurd world than past decades.

Where he hit the mark, in my mind, centres around 1995, or so, a time when I was travelling to America. Visting giant aerospace manufacturing companies. I can close my eyes and see a hangar like building of enormous proportions where every square inch was covered by naturally coloured cubicles. Neutral coloured partitions coming up to shoulder hight. Water coolers. Glass windowed offices. Notice boards with the latest dictate.

Of course, Dilbert was an engineer. An engineer shoehorned into a modern management world that challenged his sensibilities. A hierarchical place where systematic pseudo-science clashes with logic and rationality. Where human frailties and social pressures are turned into office management speak to justify unjustifiable actions. Pushing a rock uphill to meet unrealistic project plans.

It’s a tiny thing. Dilbert’s upturned tie smacks my experience of standing at a drawing board in the late 1970s. He’s a cartoon character that is inevitably dragging his heals as he’s being forced to come to terms with a maddening corporate culture. That’s an encounter that a lot of people can relate too. It compelled office workers to play games that seemed to work in the opposite direction to any that was intended. Later, TV comedy picked up on this with series like: The Office[2].

This work day phenomenon hasn’t passed. Modern managements’ more barmy methods and theories are so ingrained that it seems wrong to highlight. Somehow our reaction to this has changed.

For a while Dilbert’s humour put up a mirror to those of us in senior management roles. Here’s a model that, if you start behaving like the “classic” boss, it’s time to do a double take. When encountering that slippery slope, look far and wide for a cynical talking dog.

[1] https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/c5y320k72vyo

[2] https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00jd68z

Exploring ‘The War Between the Land and the Sea’

OK so there’s the predicable amount of sentimentality. Yes, it makes the story human. Great and cataclysmic events don’t grab attention unless they are associated with the human experience. That’s not entirely true. There will always be nerds, like me, who are drawn in by the facts and the creativity of structure and form.

“The War Between the Land and the Sea[1]” is a well-crafted combination human stories and an imaginative fictional expanse. It’s a spin-off of the world of Dr Who. However, what Russell T Davies has created is a more grounded drama about the here and now. Whoops – shouldn’t have used the word “grounded.” This made for broadcast science fiction story is about our Earthly reality. Two thirds of our beautiful planet is water. Earth is as much about water as it is about dry land.

He’s not the first screen writer to imagine a world dominated by water. If I remember rightly, there’s that terrible American movie Waterworld[2]. I say terrible even though it was atypical of 1990s cinema watching. A better point of reference, and a motivation to wall-up a stock of baked beans on high ground somewhere in the English countryside, is “The Kraken Wakes.” Now, there’s an exceptionally fine story from one of my favourite authors, namely John Wyndham.

Russell T Davies taps into ancient sailor’s stories of scary monsters in the deep. The lure of the unknow. Even with our expansive knowledge of the cosmos, humanity is still largely ignorant of the world of the deep ocean. Discoveries are arising year by year.

I can imagine some hard-nosed right-wing commentators will be sniffy about the focus on climate change and the dangers of the melting of the polar icecaps. To some extent, this is incidental to the story. I don’t think the “The War Between the Land and the Sea” is too preachy.

Strangely enough I was initially put off by the BBC’s repetitive advertising of the series. As if they were nervous of the risks of making it in the first place and that few would watch this drama. Let’s put that aside. This is an excellent British television drama. It’s more adult than Dr Who. By storyboarding the global angsts of the day and combining it with a fantasy that’s full of twists and turns, this is well worth a watch.

I hope the BBC drama will be brave enough to continue in this direction. New, imaginative, science fiction that’s not afraid of posing the “what if” questions. As we endure the manipulation of the daily News that spins fears and gives airtime to conspiracy theories, so fiction and reality can get blurred.

I know an unidentified race of intelligent life is not going to rise out of the Seas and challenge our dominance of Earth. I like the idea of stories that prick our arrogance and offer a reminder of our vulnerabilities. Apocalyptic visions abound but not all touches on our contemporary industrial recklessness and potential political idiocy.

Today, the oceans are riddled with hydrophones listening for underwater activity. Yet no one has picked-up and decoded a group of fleeing dolphins saying – so long, and thanks for all the fish. Maybe tomorrow. Who needs to Dr?

[1] https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m002p0xm

[2] https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0114898/

What to Expect

What’s going to happen in 2026? Predictions are always more a matter for the ancient Greek Gods than mere mortals but here goes. For the world of civil aviation:

Global air traffic will continue to grow,

Large hub airports will continue to expand,

Commercial air travel safety improvement will stagnate,

Electric air taxis will become a reality,

Pontification about the next generation of single aisle aircraft will continue,

Impacts of climate change will increase,

Blows to climate action will be slowly reversed,

AI breakthroughs will continue but adoption will slow,

Drone technology will advance at pace,

More airspace will be subject to conflict warnings,

Volatility and instability will plague the commercial manufacturing sector,

Regulatory harmonisation will struggle to advance,

And for certain, the United States will formally mark its 250th birthday.

Some pluses and some minuses. It will not be a dull year.

Globally the future of civil aviation is a healthy one. Propensity to travel is deeply ingrained in our ideas of development and growth. The complexities of adopting innovations are not new to the aviation industry. What may be new is finding a workforce that is as captivated by aviation as past generations. To train, induct them and offer them the attractive careers paths that compete with other fields. Anticipation of potential technology transformations often lacks a vision for the people who will make them possible.

Visual Cues and Decision Making

Back to visual perception. Initially, it may not seem right to focus on one human sense and not discuss the others. We are multifaceted humans. The brain takes advantage of all its senses, when they are available. We’ve evolved with amazing capabilities.

The interesting notion that certain wines taste better when accompanies by certain music is a wonderful example of how interactive our systems can be. That’s without us having any conscious control over their immediate intimate workings. Parts maybe hardwired and others soft wired and adaptable.

Vision plays a dominant part in enabling us to move around. We haven’t yet evolved echo sounding, like bats and dolphins. This is not to say that those who loose vision can’t compensate to some extent, but they don’t fly aircraft or drive fast cars or become astronauts.

My thoughts arise from exposure to several aspects of our dependency on seeing the world around us. To begin, at the early part of my career, it was indeed the process of taking sound imaging and making it usable for recognising objects. Converting the information that come back from sending sound pluses through water into an image must deal with a dynamic environment. Interpretation of such electronic images can be the difference between hitting an object at sea and avoiding it.

Later, my design work concentrated on information presented to a pilot and what happens next. That whole arena of the aircraft cockpit is one big interface. The link between the senses and the decision maker. I’m not straying into the interminable debates about human factors.

Let’s stay with the trend that’s in front of us in every walk of life. That’s the dependence on recognising and acting on information that is presented to us on a nearby screen. In so far as I know, humans didn’t evolve with this need to relate acutely to closely presented information as much as reacting to distant stimulus. Afterall if a hostile animal or dangerously armed person was heading towards me at speed, I wouldn’t sit around debating the subject.

Aeronautics has experience in this shift of attention. At the start of my career aircraft cockpits where mostly knobs and dials. Mechanical indicators and filament bulbs. Sometime unreliable. Still the idea of flying by the “seat of the paints” prevailed. That centred around situation awareness, predominantly guided by looking out of the window. At the outside world. Distant vison equally, if not more, important as looking two feet ahead at a panel. Over the last five decades the above has changed radically. Instruments are large flat screens dotted with an array of colourful symbols offering every aspect of “situation awareness”.

Now, this is happening to cars. Most new cars have electronic screens. The expectation is that we humble humans have transitioned from simple mechanical dials to a fascinating world of colourful animated markers and whizzy logos. Despite the glorious technology the basic function remains the same. That is the link between the senses and the decision maker.

Adequate levels of visual perception being the number one attribute a pilot or driver is expected to maintain. This continues to be true as automation does more and more. What maybe a long-term trend in human evolution is that shift between the importance of what’s a couple of feet away and what’s in our surroundings. Will we become less sensitive to a personal experience of what’s more that two feet away? I wonder.

Technology and Visual Perception

As the winter sun rose this morning, I focused my binoculars on a distant silhouette of a bird. We inherited these bird watching binoculars from my father-in-law. With a times 30 magnification this majestic black waterbird was easy to see.

A tall trunk of a dead tree rises above the riverbank. It’s a perch where the Cormorant[1] sits in the early morning sunshine. I’d guess it’s a regular post fishing ritual. We sometime see him or her perfectly balanced with their wings outstretched. Two Jackdaws were sitting below this larger bird. It was clear the Cormorant was none to happy to have their company.

In our kitchen, as the radio burbled away, what struck me was the importance of distant vison. Looking out to see what’s on the horizon. As the sun illuminated the treeline. Leafless trees outlined against a blue sky. I hasten to add that this clear morning is more the exception than the rule over the last couple of weeks.

Because the Cormorant is an excellent fisher this is a good sign for the health of the river. The River Lambourn is a chalk stream that passes west to east at the boundary of the field adjoining our house. Fortunately, the river is far enough away for winter flooding not to be a problem. We have the benefit of seeing Berkshire’s riverbank wildlife as it makes its way quite oblivious to us watching it.

What a contrast. My eyes are now focused on a computer screen that is no more than a couple of feet away from me. If I was using my mobile phone or tablet, I’d be even closer to an electronic screen. I can see a nice picture of a typical Cormorant on my screen. It’s informative but no substitute for the real thing. A real individual.

Let’s make an assertion. Since 2006, the ratio of a person’s time spent looking at a close by screen as opposed to a distant image has dramatically changed. I’ve used that datum as it’s a convenient one related to the abundant mobile phone of any make and kind. I wonder what this has done for our visual perception capabilities. Will there come a time when looking for objects at a distance is a less than familiar experience.

It’s fascinating to see that the Boy Scouts still have an aircraft recognition list. The expectation that a young person looks up and spots a distant silhouette in the sky and can recognise it. Takes me back to the simplest childhood game of all. “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with A”. Looking heavenward at a fast-moving outline and shouting “Aircraft”.

Will these abilities diminish? Afterall it would be so much easier to let a phones’ camera and a suitable App do the work. Point and tap. Would that lead to people recognising more aircraft or birds or less? The jury is out on what our tech is doing to us. There are a lot of questions worth asking. Particularly when it comes to visual perception. Matching pictures and names are one thing. Looking at a distance in real-time and doing the same with confidence, that’s another.

[1] https://www.rspb.org.uk/birds-and-wildlife/cormorant

Evolution of

Looking at the weird and wonderful picture of an unlikely lump of materials with wires hanging off, it’s easy to dismiss. A laboratory experiment that drew together theory and practice to produce a brand-new electrical device. Not something that occurred in nature. Even though its behaviour is of that of materials in nature.

Certainly, the implications of this experiment could not have been fully understood at the time. That said, progress to industrialise this new device was rapid. By the time of 1956, the “inventors” were awarded a Nobel Prize in Physics. In 1947, the transistor, was a fruitful combination of science and practical thinking in a laboratory where that was encouraged.

Bell Laboratories, given its history was a logical place for arguably the most important modern invention to be first put together. Arguing over “most important” there are several matters to consider. For one, how universal, how ubiquitous would this humble device become? Would it have a dramatic impact of everyday life for decades after its invention? Would it change every aspect of human organisation? Would its design, development and production become essential to the world? The simple answer – yes.

My first encounter with the germanium transistor was as a boy in the 1970s. Stripping them out of junked radios and record player amplifiers. Building simple circuits. PNP germanium junction transistors were tiny tin cans with three colour coded leads. With a soldering iron and a primitive breadboard there were plenty of designs in popular magazines to copy. Now, this is considered as vintage technology since germanium has long given way to silicon.

The clock, the radio, the bathroom scales, my shaver, my toothbrush, even in my bathroom every appliance contains circuits that are transistor based. It would be possible to live without some of these items, or at least substitute them with the mechanical versions, but that’s only for eccentrics, museums and heritage houses.

In 1947, the prototype transistor was on a bench being studied. It came along too late to play a part in the huge leap forward technology made during World War II. What became apparent is that the technology that had been developed using thermionic valves was convertible into a transistor-based versions. Size shrank and performance improved dramatically.

What’s my message? It’s another way of looking at so called artificial intelligence. Technology doesn’t come out of the blue. It doesn’t plot new pathways in the first years of its invention. It often takes things we already do and speeds them up or makes them cheaper or makes them more lethal.

We create another stepping stone upon which further developments can take place. So, maybe there is a South Sea Bubble about to burst. Much of the frantic investment that has taken place assumes that artificial intelligence is of itself a wonder. Let’s say it isn’t. The wonder is what it will allow us to do. Much of that side of the coin is a massive unknown. Much as the three who invented the solid-state transistor could not have envisaged tens of millions of them stuffed inside every computer chip on the planet.

Vintage germanium components are sough after by specialists. Apparently, audio amplifiers sound better to those who are sensitive to certain musical tones. Artificial intelligence has a proliferation of applications. A lot are gimmicks. Some are extremely serious.

POST: It’s often the boring stuff that can best be improved rapidly, note: One real reason AI isn’t delivering: Meatbags in manglement • The Register

Heartfelt Season’s Greetings

Season’s Greetings

May this time be one of joyful reflection and happy moments with friends and family.

Down time, for those who can, to remember that there are greater things in Heaven and Earth than the frantic News cycle. It’s not to forget those in troubled and difficult circumstances but to wish for them better times are ahead. To hope that the coming days reflect the best of us.

For all those farmers who, in wind and rain, continue to care for their crops and animals.

For all those engineers, pilots and controllers who continue to ensure that it’s safe to fly.

For all those medics and emergency workers who are ready to act when disaster strikes.

Even for dedicated politicians, planners and administrators working to improve lives.

Wishing you winter cheer and the warmth of an embrace over this festive season.

Political Intolerance

Although there’s a growing intolerance in the UK. That can be seen in the opinion poll ratings for the Reform Party. Voicing opinions that are likely to arouse conflict, and division has become a calling card. Done on a regular basis the media can’t resist covering every foghorn moment. This offers them a disproportionate coverage, as if the sky is falling every day.

Kinda funny that a European folk tale, with a moral twist, is the basis of a political strategy in 2025. “Chicken Licken” got hit on the head by an acorn and deduced that the world was about to end so he’d better tell everyone right away.

I started, although there’s a growing intolerance in the UK, and meant to lead on to deducing that I’d say that people in the UK are more tolerant than those in the US. Now, this isn’t the case. For from it, tolerance is being stretched to the limits in the US.

For all the bad Press the current UK Prime Minister (PM) gets, his language has been coherent, deliberate, and understandable. That is like most of his predecessors, except the one who was in office only as long as a lettuce remained fresh, namely perhaps Liz Truss. Starmer is a lawyer after all. Not a great orator. Certainly not a comedian.

If Labour’s leader Starmer stood on a public platform and exclaimed “nobody understands magnets” I’m sure he wouldn’t last longer in post than Liz Truss did. See how intolerant people are in the UK.

Humanity understands magnetism. That’s down to a couple of heroes on mine. Michael Faraday[1] and James Clerk Maxwell. By applying experimentation and mathematics they both mapped out how electromagnetism works. Much of the modern world depends on their discoveries. Electrical power is at the core of technical society.

If the PM were to redefine his government’s environmental policies and take against wind energy, I doubt that he’d say, “The windmills are driving the whales crazy, obviously.” It’s true that the UK has a lot of wind turbines in the North Sea and that there are whales who pass that way[2]. That sentence alone would have the members of the House of Commons rolling in the aisles. It would be difficult for supporters and opponents alike to remain calm in such a situation.

On both sides of the Atlantic there’s so much debate and discussion about artificial intelligence that it’s impossible to get away from it. Yes, there must be a few ostriches, with their heads in the sand, who when asked wouldn’t know of the existence of AI. Can’t be many though.

So far, the PM hasn’t resorted to saying “Around the globe everyone is talking about artificial intelligence. I find that too artificial, I can’t stand it. I don’t even like the name.” Naturally, I stand to be corrected because there may come a time at Prime Minister’s Question Time that the subject of dropping the word “artificial” comes up. It’s hasn’t yet. If this subject became part of the ding done exchange at the dispatch box in parliament there is one thing for sure. Everyone would know that it would be time for a new PM.

Will Starmer survive 2026. My prediction is that he will survive in post but that will not stop arguments about his future. Overall, here my conclusion is that people in the US are far more tolerant than those in the UK.

[1] https://www.mritannica.com/biography/Michael-Faraday

[2] https://www.wildlifetrusts.org/wildlife-explorer/marine/marine-mammals-and-sea-turtles/minke-whale

Rethinking Taxation Strategies

The whole subject of land value tax is not one to get into if you are looking for something to read while waiting for a bus or looking for a light-hearted story. Yes, that could be said about any discussion about taxation. Probably one of the reasons why so few people engage in conversations about the nitty gritty of this subject.

LVT (Land Value Tax) is not new. This idea has been on the block for decades. One of the underlying reasons for its popularity is that instead of taxing things society likes, like business, commerce and employment, this tax scheme aims at an asset value. In a country where land is a valuable commodity, at least in populated areas, here’s a tax base that this solid.

The part LVT could play in UK tax reform is a major one. That’s where this subject gets twisty. How to get from where we are now to a new scheme that is understandable, straightforward, and acknowledged as fair. That is, at least in comparison with the existing taxation schemes.

One provision needed is to distinguish between public land to private land. There’s no point in raising revenue to fund local government and then getting that entity to use those funds pay the same tax. If private organisations lease public land, then there would need to be a provision too.

Then there’s the difficult issue of revaluations of private land such that the result is fair and genuinely reflects “value”. A city car park and a golf course are very different in that respect. Fine there is a national land registry, although there are still packets of land unregistered.

Quite a bureaucratic set-up establishing a Valuation Agency. Even if most of the necessary information is already held by lots of existing organisations. Every set of accounts is going to have value for assets held or owned. The range of accuracy of these values can be wide.

I’m not making a case against LVT. What I am saying is that tax reform is not easy. Those proposing it must have a long-term perspective. Must be committed to getting away from making ever more complicated fragmentary changes to legacy schemes. Adding ever more complexity to an unreadable tax code.

Tax reform is not easy. Facing up to those who gain an advantage from the status-quo is often one of the greatest pressures that a government faces. Making life simpler and less burdensome for small businesses, shops, pubs and restaurants is a great ambition. Facing up to the owners of golf courses and sprawling country estates, now that’s not so easy.

Now, when I wonder what the New Year will bring it doesn’t seem that the current government is not brave enough to make radical changes. Their approach, over the last year, has been one of cautious incremental tinkering. If they have core principle, no one is quite sure what they are.

Swearing in English Culture

I do suppose that it’s my country upbringing, but that’s not entirely so. There was a set of opposing tensions that spread through society in the 1960s as much as they did in the 1660s.

On the one side there’s the authenticity of the country born and bread son or daughter of the soil in honest toil. That image of the rural artisan, painted by a famous artist, struggling with the elements to put bread on the table wasn’t as clean and tidy as the artist depicted.

On the other hand, was a spirit of bettering oneself. Elevation from the base worker day reality, up to one’s knees in muck, and practicalities of country life. Middle class, educated entrepreneurial, energies directed at improvement and modernisation.

An indicator of the side of the line that was most natural for a person was the use of langauage. Another might be the seriousness with which a Sunday church sermon was listened to. Another could be the frequency of evenings spent propping up the bar in the village pub.

Here my focus is on language. I’m of a generation who was told off for swearing. Whether at home, school or most social situations. This idea of self-improvement and good manners was handed down. It didn’t just spring from our parents’ ambitions. There was pressure to behave.

To suggest that colourful swearing didn’t happen was far from the truth. Even the highest minded tended to shift their disposition depended on the situation. Afterall, if I have had a calf stood on my toe or lost a wellington boot in deep cold mud it’s unlikely that my exclamation would have been – oh dear! that was jolly inconvenient.

Swear words are a constant. What continues to change is the meaning and level of offense that each one has attached. Casual obscenities that were thrown about like confetti may now be totally out of bounds. Calling someone a “bastard” in past times might almost have been considered a term of endearment.

Campaigners rail against suppressing free speech. Regulating what can be said. Rightly so, in most cases. That said, it’s rare that common place langauage is what such campaigners wish to protect. Even the traditional mundane ones are converted into softer tones to avoid offence.

If I think back to my childhood and market days in towns like Sturminster Newton in Dorset, then a great deal of English culture has been lost. Some may say thank God for progress. For me, the rural landscape isn’t as colourful or characterful as it once was, but what do I know?

Don’t read me wrong. I’m not calling for expletives and offensive words to spill out of every page or be heard up and down the high street. Social media is full of grossly offensive nastiness.

That’s part of my point. Authentic swearing doesn’t have to be used as a weapon. Yes, swearing in the 17th century was often used that way. Today, it’s better used as emphasis, exaggeration or an expression of despair. Like a valve on the lid of a pressure cooker, the occasional use of a rude word is a manner of relief. I’m sure Shakespeare would approve. Even he was censored.

As an expression of despair, we do need everyday tools to hand. If that’s the lively use of traditional langauage then so be it. For those who are offended please look at the bigger picture.