Did you know by creating an account you can favorite comics and shorts, automatically bookmark the last one you saw, and more? Learn more about it here!
Did you know by creating an account you can favorite comics and shorts, automatically bookmark the last one you saw, and more? Learn more about it here!
Na semana passada, Andreas Lubitz, copiloto num voo da empresa aérea Germanwings, de Barcelona a Düsseldorf, parece ter jogado propositalmente o avião contra os Alpes franceses, matando todos os ocupantes –passageiros, tripulação e ele mesmo. Existem mais que uma dúzia de casos em que se suspeita que pilotos ou copilotos tenham provocado desastres aéreos intencionalmente.
Os usuários de transportes coletivos se sentiriam mais tranquilos se a gente encontrasse uma explicação. Mas não é fácil: as autoridades são avarentas com suas informações, e a pressa não é boa conselheira.
1) A imprensa destacou o depoimento de uma ex-namorada de Lubitz, segundo a qual, no passado, ele teria dito: "Um dia, farei algo que mudará o sistema, e então todos saberão meu nome e se lembrarão de mim". Talvez a gente encontre uma declaração de Lubitz afirmando que destruiria um avião para ficar famoso.
Mas, até lá, fala sério: quase todos os homens entre 15 e 30 anos pronunciaram ao menos uma vez uma frase parecida para sua mãe, para seus amigos, ou para uma menina que eles esperavam impressionar. Só uma parte pequena dos que falam isso se engaja em assassinatos em massa.
2) Sete anos atrás, Lubitz passou por um tratamento psiquiátrico e psicoterápico durante um tempo (um ano?).
Quase briguei com duas amigas queridas: elas exigiam que, por decreto, ninguém pudesse passar por um "tratamento psiquiátrico" e se tornar piloto.
Claro, em tese, ninguém ganha um brevê de piloto sofrendo de um transtorno grave da personalidade. Mas "tratamento psiquiátrico" é uma expressão MUITO genérica.
Até 1980, a homossexualidade era considerada como um transtorno psiquiátrico –suscetível de ser tratado; portanto, o brevê de piloto deveria ser proibido aos gays?
Ou, então, seu psiquiatra lhe prescreveu, sei lá, Clonazepam sublingual de 0,5 mg porque você estava tenso durante os exames finais de sua formação. É um tratamento psiquiátrico. Você deve ser excluído de sua profissão por isso?
E se você estiver deprimido? Deveria ser impedido de pilotar um avião?
Note-se: poucas depressões acarretam pensamentos suicidas. E, de qualquer forma, esses pensamentos não transformam ninguém em assassino em massa.
Ou seja, muitas pessoas passam por episódios depressivos e, com remédios e psicoterapia, continuam perfeitamente funcionais no exercício de sua competência, seja ela qual for. Em suma, "tratamento psiquiátrico" não equivale a invalidez.
3) No dia da catástrofe, o copiloto tinha um atestado que o dispensava do trabalho –que ele não usou. Talvez fosse por uma gripe, mas imaginemos que fosse por uma condição psíquica.
Minhas amigas pedem que o médico particular que assinar um atestado seja obrigado a informar o empregador de seu paciente.
Se o médico, o psiquiatra ou o terapeuta se tornarem informantes do empregador, quem ainda pedirá ajuda para quem quer que seja?
4) Então, o que aconteceu com Lubitz? Não sei, mas Sansão era invencível enquanto obedecia a Jeová e enfrentava os Filisteus. Se apaixonou por Dalila, uma mulher filistina, que desvendou o segredo de sua força e o traiu.
Cego e escravizado, Sansão foi mostrado ao povo filistino. Enquanto ele era o objeto de escárnio de seus inimigos, pediu que o Senhor lhe devolvesse sua força por um instante e derrubou as colunas do templo de Dagom, dizendo: "Morra Sansão com todos os Filisteus".
A Bíblia comenta que ele matou mais inimigos na sua morte do que na sua vida. A história é complexa, leia: Juízes, 13-16.
Os exegetas bíblicos acham que não foi um suicídio –porque Sansão morreu indiretamente, se envolvendo no desastre (legítimo) que levava a seus inimigos, e porque o ato foi impulsionado pelo Espírito Santo.
Em 1989, I. Kutz publicou um artigo, no British Journal of Medical Psychology, sobre o "complexo de Sansão".
Oferecendo a história de um paciente como exemplo, Kutz propunha que o herói bíblico se tornasse símbolo de um traço de personalidade pelo qual a traição da amada e o ludíbrio público podem levar alguém a uma vingança contra o mundo e contra si próprio.
A história de Sansão, de fato, é um exemplo clínico menos simplório do que a ideia de um Lubitz deprimido e suicida.
Seja como for, um comportamento como o do copiloto é dificilmente previsível. A única providência sensata é fazer com que ninguém nunca fique sozinho na cabine de pilotagem de um avião.
This entry passed through the Full-Text RSS service - if this is your content and you're reading it on someone else's site, please read the FAQ at fivefilters.org/content-only/faq.php#publishers.
Nowadays the Silicon Valley is either celebrated as a hotbed of creativity or condemned as a cauldron of greed and wealth inequality.
While there are certainly some talented and even idealistic people in the Valley, there’s also an excess of shallow libertarianism, from people who have enriched themselves with government-created technology who then decide they’re being held back by government. That’s shortsighted and vain. And yes, there are serious problems with sexism and age discrimination – problems which manifest themselves with some ugly behavior.
But such ethical problems aren’t solely, or even primarily, the product of individual character defects. They’re the result of self-reinforcing cultural norms at work. Anthropologists and sociologists could do worse than study the tech culture of the Silicon Valley. It would be important work, in fact, because this insular culture is having a deep and lasting impact on our economy and society.
Here, to star them off, are five socially destructive aspects of Silicon Valley culture:
1. Tech products become the byproducts of a money-making scheme rather than an end unto themselves.
It’s almost inevitable when big money enters the picture: Smart or talented people are drawn to a field for the chance to get rich, not necessarily because it’s where their greatest talents or dreams lie. The same thing has happened to fields as diverse as film, pop music, and the financial sector. There’s nothing wrong with getting rich, but it should be the byproduct of a happy marriage between talent and inspiration.
But here’s how it works instead: The goal of entrepreneurs and innovators was once summed up in the cliched phrase, “build a better mousetrap.” But for many Silicon Valley products and services, including services like Uber and AirBnB, the goal now is to build a product which can be hyped into a multi-billion-dollar valuation – preferably by winning as much market share as possible, and then using that market position to engage in the kinds of practices usually reserved for monopolies and monopsonies (markets in which there is only one buyer). This process is described in more detail here.
Instead of building a better mousetrap, the new Silicon Valley business model works like this:
i. Give your “mousetrap” away for free, or as close to free as you can make it. (Since you’re working with digital signals transmitted over a government-invented network, that can usually be done at minimal cost. In other cases it pays to benefit from a government tax loophole (see Amazon) or make an end run around the regulations your competitors must follow (see Uber, Lyft, and AirBnB).
ii. Use these government-conferred advantages, along with your own aggressive market moves, to gain a large or decisive marketshare. (See Amazon, Facebook, etc.) In exceptional cases, actually build brilliant and superior software to win your market share. (See Google.)
iii. Use your newfound market share to a) bend government to your will wherever possible, b) screw down your suppliers’ prices, c) hit your customers with increased prices and/or new ads or other profit-making devices, and d) manipulate your customers without their knowledge. (See Uber, Amazon, Google, Facebook, et al.)
This business model has directed much of the Valley’s efforts away from inventing genuinely creative new products – and toward the kinds of aggressive tactics that, as we’ve written before, would be very familiar to the Robber Barons of the 19th century.
2. Even inspired leaders internalize a worldview which places profits over humane behavior.
Steve Jobs is a prime example of this phenomenon. As an early innovator in the tech field, Jobs – however interested he was in making money – was not drawn to the field for the sake of money alone. Nor was he following in the footsteps of others, seeking to replicate the successes of a Zuckerberg or a Sergey Brin, as newcomers to the field are now. Jobs possessed a genuinely inspired design vision, from the earliest days of his career to his last.
And yet, for all his gifts, the pursuit of wealth led Jobs to commit some morally reprehensible deeds. As “white collar criminologist” William K. Black Jr. told me in a 2012 radio interview, Jobs’ drive to maximize profits – and his craving to get new products to market as quickly as possible – almost certainly led him to knowingly ignore abuses and safety threats to the Chinese workers who built his products. That, in turn, led to dormitory-based workers being forced to work under extreme conditions. These unheeded warnings also led to the horrific burning deaths of several workers.
Amazon’s Jeff Bezos is also unquestionably an innovator. But the working conditions which Amazon’s warehouse workers endure would seem familiar to their Apple counterparts in China. As documented by Simon Head in his book “Mindless: Why Smarter Machines Are Making Dumber Humans” (excerpt here), Amazon’s American warehouse workers are subjected to ever-harsher production expectations and invasive measurement techniques. Head documents the case of a Pennsylvania employee who worked 11-hour shifts and was ultimately fired for “unproductive periods” which lasted only minutes. GPS devices in an England warehouse tell workers which routes they must travel – inside the warehouse – and their expected travel time.
Amazon’s German operations employed “a security firm with alleged neo-Nazi connections that … intimidated temporary workers lodged in a company dormitory … with guards entering their rooms without permission at all times of the day and night.” An Allentown facility which lacked air conditioning repeatedly reached temperatures of more than 100 degrees one summer. More than fifteen workers collapsed, but supervisors refused to open garage doors. Reports Head: “Calls to the local ambulance service became so frequent that for five hot days in June and July, ambulances and paramedics were stationed all day at the depot.”
A number of Silicon Valley CEOs were also implicated in a widespread conspiracy to illegally suppress wages and prevent job-seeking from engineers and other key employees. Mark Ames, who has reported extensively on the conspiracy, wrote that “confidential internal Google and Apple memos … clearly show that what began as a secret cartel agreement between Apple’s Steve Jobs and Google’s Eric Schmidt to illegally fix the labor market for hi-tech workers, expanded within a few years to include companies ranging from Dell, IBM, eBay and Microsoft, to Comcast, Clear Channel, Dreamworks, and London-based public relations behemoth WPP.”
These incidents are by no means exceptions in the Silicon Valley culture. The most generous way to interpret behavior like this is to assume that Steve Jobs and operated in a culture whose worldview downplayed the human impact of business practices. That, in fact, is reinforced by other aspects of Silicon Valley’s leadership society.
3. The culture encourages a solipsistic detachment from reality, even as its brute economic strength colonizes everything it touches.
A dispassionate observer might be tempted to wonder how a culture filled with so many smart people can remain so unaware of, and/or disinterested in, their effect on other people’s lives?
For many of them, the evidence is literally right before their eyes: San Francisco’s richness and diversity is being drained away, as the city becomes unaffordable for more and more of its citizens. They are all good with numbers, so the statistics on growing wealth inequality should not be hard for them to understand. And their arguments – e.g., that the “sharing economy” will benefit struggling Americans – are easily punctured by even a superficial look at US demographics. (Are struggling Milwaukee residents going to get rich driving tourists around their battered town, or renting out their inner-city apartments on AirBnB?)
Most of the tech executives I’ve known aren’t bad guys. (To be clear, I haven’t met Uber’s leadership – with the exception of a brief encounter with former Obama advisor David Plouffe – and they certainly appear to be an exception.) But even many of the “good” ones seem oblivious to the effect of their own behavior.
To a certain extent that’s an occupational hazard. I’ve spent just enough time hammering out software in the glow of a computer screen to see how easily a synthetic world can replace the one inhabited by other human beings.
But there are correctives for that: reading, contemplation, speaking with human beings from different walks of life. The Valley’s tech culture doesn’t seem to encourage that – to its detriment, and that of society as a whole.
4. The Valley gets fixated on lame (and sometimes antisocial) buzzwords.
“Move fast and break things,” said Mark Zuckerberg in a much-repeated quotation. Other tech types prattle on about “the next Big Idea.” And almost everyone wants to “disrupt” an existing industry.
Why is it good to “move fast and break things”? Isn’t it usually wiser to move carefully and build things? There may be times when it’s wise to act rapidly, or break with conventional ways of doing things. But there are also times when a hastily-executed rollout dooms a product. Sometimes it makes sense to improve the established ways of doing things, rather than upend them altogether.
When you think about it, what does this expression even mean? It’s only repeated because a) it sounds smart, and b) it was spoken by someone who is extremely wealthy, and such people are to be imitated whenever possible in the hope that some of their magic will rub off.
As for “Big Ideas”: do they really correlate with tech success? Google was a smarter search engine, but search engines were no longer a new or “big” idea by the time it came along. Craigslist? It’s online classified ads. Facebook was originally conceived as the online version of the printed “facebooks” traditionally given to incoming freshmen so they could get to know their classmates. Neither Zuckerberg nor those Harvard twins knew what it would someday become. There is surprisingly little correlation between tech success and actual “Big Ideas.”
Disruption’s overrated, too. Sure, it can work. Instagram disrupted home photography, for example. But Twitter, one of the smarter ideas to come from the Valley in recent years, didn’t disrupt anything. Instead it created a new market and a new medium. Sometimes “disruption” is a euphemism, whose real meaning is “use tax loopholes to undercut law-abiding vendors” or “employ Robber Baron business practices to cut suppliers prices.”
Sometimes it means nothing at all.
5. Silicon Valley’s culture is hurting our economy.
Politicians like to celebrate the tech industry as a boon to the economy, but for most Americans the opposite is true. As economist Joseph Stiglitz and others have documented, monopoly practices exert a significant drag on the economy. The economy becomes increasingly capital-driven, rather than labor-driven. Monopolies suppress wages, overcharge consumers, mistreat suppliers, and drive the economy increasingly off-course.
There’s also a price to be paid for product inefficiency. Monopolies can sometimes squander human capital – that is, waste people’s time – by forcing them to struggle with inefficient products like Microsoft’s operating system or Facebook’s user interfaces. (More on this topic here.) Multiply every minute wasted on a Windows inefficiency or Facebook’s privacy settings by millions of users, and the cost begins to add up.
The Valley’s hurting our economy in another way, too. Somehow, some of the titans of tech have gotten the misguided idea that they are exemplars of libertarian self-created success. Nothing could be further from the truth. The Silicon Valley runs on government-subsidized technology, from microchips to the Internet itself. Corporations like Amazon used government-created tax breaks to build near-monopoly leverage and turn it against their suppliers.
And now, having enriched themselves through government generosity, some of the Valley’s billionaires are using their publicly-assisted wealth to back political candidates and organizations under a “libertarian” label that is better described, at least economically, as a far-right agenda. These candidates and organizations push our political dialogue in a more conservative direction – which in turn creates a political climate which tends to permit more of the things that have already wounded our economy, like deregulation and lower taxes for the wealthy and corporations.
All of the Valley’s cultural traits, from the profound to the trivial, reflect a culture that is urgently in need of maturation and change. One thing’s for sure: If I hear another tech titan say he plans to “disrupt” an industry, I’m going to move fast and break something.
Today I found out the red juice in raw red meat is not blood. Nearly all blood is removed from meat during slaughter, which is also why you don’t see blood in raw “white meat”; only an extremely small amount of blood remains within the muscle tissue when you get it from the store.
So what is that red liquid you are seeing in red meat? Red meats, such as beef, are composed of quite a bit of water. This water, mixed with a protein called myoglobin, ends up comprising most of that red liquid.
In fact, red meat is distinguished from white meat primarily based on the levels of myoglobin in the meat. The more myoglobin, the redder the meat. Thus most animals, such as mammals, with a high amount of myoglobin, are considered “red meat”, while animals with low levels of myoglobin, like most poultry, or no myoglobin, like some sea-life, are considered “white meat”.
Myoglobin is a protein, that stores oxygen in muscle cells, very similar to its cousin, hemoglobin, that stores oxygen in red blood cells. This is necessary for muscles which need immediate oxygen for energy during frequent, continual usage. Myoglobin is highly pigmented, specifically red; so the more myoglobin, the redder the meat will look and the darker it will get when you cook it.
This darkening effect of the meat when you cook it is also due to the myoglobin; or more specifically, the charge of the iron atom in myoglobin. When the meat is cooked, the iron atom moves from a +2 oxidation state to a +3 oxidation state, having lost an electron. The technical details aren’t important here, though if you want them, read the “bonus factoids” section, but the bottom line is that this ends up causing the meat to turn from pinkish-red to brown.
Pro-tip: when searching for non-copyrighted pictures for an article, don’t search for “white meat” or really any variation of that on Google Image Search.
If you liked this article and the Bonus Facts below, you might also enjoy:
Bonus Facts:
It is possible for meat to remain pinkish-red all through the cooking if it has been exposed to nitrites. It is even possible for packagers, through artificial means, to keep the meat looking pink, even after it has spoiled, by binding a molecule of carbon monoxide to produce metmyoglobin. Consumers associate pink meat with “fresh”, so this increases sales, even though the pink color has little to do with the freshness of meat.
Pigs are often considered “white meat”, even though their muscles contain a lot more myoglobin than most other white meat animals. This however, is a much lower concentrate of myoglobin than other “red meat”, such as cows, due to the fact that pigs are lazy and mostly just lay around all day. So depending on who you talk to, pigs can be considered white meat or red meat; they more or less sit in between the two classifications.
Chickens and Turkeys are generally considered white meat, however due to the fact that both use their legs extensively, their leg muscles contain a significant amount of myoglobin which causes their meat to turn dark when cooked; so in some sense they contain both red and white meat. Wild poultry, which tend to fly a lot more, tend to only contain “dark” meat, which contains a higher amount of myoglobin due to the muscles needing more oxygen from frequent, continual usage.
White meat is made up of “fast fibers” that are used for quick bursts of activity. These muscles get energy from glyocogen which, like myoglobin, is stored in the muscles.
Fish are primarily white meat due to the fact that they don’t ever need their muscles to support themselves and thus need much less myoglobin or sometimes none at all in a few cases; they float, so their muscle usage is much less than say a 1000 pound cow who walks around a lot and must deal with gravity. Typically, the only red meat you’ll find on a fish is around their fins and tail, which are used almost constantly.
Some fish, such as sharks and tuna, have red meat because they are fast swimmers and are migratory and thus almost always moving; they use their muscles extensively and so they contain a lot more myoglobin than most other sea-life.
For contrast, the white meat from chickens is made up of about .05% myoglobin with their thighs having about .2% myoglobin; pork and veal contain about .2% myoglobin; non-veal beef contains about 1%-2% of myoglobin, depending on age and muscle use.
The USDA considers all meats obtained from livestock to be “red” because they contain more myoglobin than chicken or fish.
Beef meat that is vacuum sealed, thus not exposed to oxygen, tends to be more of a purple shade. Once the meat is exposed to oxygen, it will gradually turn red over a span of 10-20 minutes as the myoglobin absorbs the oxygen.
Beef stored in the refrigerator for more than 5 days will start to turn brown due to chemical changes in the myoglobin. This doesn’t necessarily mean it has gone bad, though with this length of unfrozen storage, it may have. Best to use your nose to tell for sure, not your eyes.
Before you cook the red meat, the iron atom’s oxidation level is +2 and is bound to a dioxygen molecule (O2) with a red color; as you cook it, this iron loses an electron and goes to a +3 oxidation level, and now coordinates with a water molecule (H2O). This process ends up turning the meat brown.
Expand for References
Share the Knowledge!
Enjoy this article? If so, get our FREE wildly popular Daily Knowledge and Weekly Wrap newsletters:
The escalating obesity epidemic is a serious global health concern, and while it is clear there are no simple solutions or quick fixes to this complex issue, scientists are endeavoring to discover effective ways that could help lessen the problem. We need to eat to survive, but we are eating too much, so could there be a viable and practical food-based solution to this growing threat? New evidence suggests that this could be a possibility, with the development of a cooking trick that slashes the calories we get from rice by as much as 60%. The intriguing discovery is being presented at the 249th National Meeting & Exposition of the American Chemical Society.
Rice is an extremely popular food worldwide and a staple in many countries, particularly within Asia where some 90% of all rice is consumed. It’s cheap, easy to cook, and goes with lots of other foods, which is probably why it’s eaten for breakfast, lunch and dinner in some places. Unfortunately, rice isn’t particularly nutritious, and as the Washington Postpoints out, white rice is even thought to be associated with a higher risk of diabetes. Furthermore, like other high-starch foods, it’s fairly high in calories.
Starch is the most common form of carbohydrate in our diet, but if we eat too much food loaded with it, our bodies are often left with an excess of sugar as a result of its metabolism. This sugar will then ultimately get turned into fat, which can make us gain weight. That being said, this only happens if we consume too much of one type of starch, known as digestible starch, which the body breaks down in the small intestine. The other type of starch, called resistant starch (RS), takes a lot longer for our bodies to process as we can’t digest it and thus cannot convert it into sugar.
Researchers therefore hypothesized that if it were possible to transform the digestible starch in foods into the other form, then this could reduce the number of calories that can be used by the body. Thus, they started experimenting with different varieties of rice to find an easy cooking technique that could help improve the resistant starch content. Impressively, they found that all that was required was two simple changes: adding coconut oil to boiling water before putting in the rice, and cooling the rice for 12 hours before consuming it. This technique led to an RS content around 10 times greater than what is found in traditional rice.
So how does this work? Coconut oil adds fat to the water, which then enters starch molecules during the cooking process, altering its architecture and converting it into a form that’s more resistant to being broken down. Cooling the rice in the refrigerator also facilitates this conversion process. The team chose to add coconut oil since this is widely used in Asian cooking, but it is likely that other oils would achieve the same effect.
Although the scientists have only tested the method on certain rice varieties, which were the least nutritious, they observed around a 10% reduction in calories. If better varieties are used, they think that the technique could reduce calories by as much as 60%. Given the fact that rice is a staple food in many countries experiencing a rise in obesity, this could be a helpful solution to the growing problem.
Um dos principais problemas para quem assina o serviço de streaming Netflix no Brasil é o conteúdo limitado em comparação ao catálogo disponível em outros países, como os Estados Unidos. Lá, as opções são muito mais vastas, com temporadas de séries mais atualizadas e filmes recém-lançados. Mas, se depender da vontade do criador e CEO da empresa, Reed Hastings, isso vai mudar.
Hastings falou sobre o assunto durante o lançamento do serviço na Austrália, na semana passada. Ele discutia o fato de muitos usuários recorrerem ao uso de VPNs, e a apps como o Hola, que mascaram o verdadeiro endereço de acesso, para obter o catálogo completo.
"A solução básica é que o Netflix se torne global e faça com que seu conteúdo seja o mesmo ao redor do mundo, de forma que não haja incentivo para o uso de VPN. Assim podemos trabalhar na parte mais importante, que é a pirataria", disse Hastings ao Gizmodo australiano.
O problema é que essa abertura não depende apenas de uma decisão da empresa. Os estúdios de Hollywood, que basicamente monopolizam o conteúdo cinematográfico disponível no serviço, tratam o tema com linha dura, redigindo contratos de distribuição específicos para cada região do planeta. Pior: recentemente, até os usuários de VPN se tornaram alvo, e o Netflix tem sido pressionado para bloquear esse tipo de acesso.
Mas Hastings insiste que a questão da VPN é pequena se comparada à da pirataria tradicional. "Um fato importante sobre a pirataria é que uma fração dela acontece porque os usuários não conseguem ter acesso ao conteúdo. Essa parte nós conseguimos consertar. Mas outra parte da pirataria ocorre porque eles não querem pagar. Essa é a parte difícil. Como uma indústria, precisamos consertar o conteúdo global", disse Hastings.
Felizmente, o CEO do Netflix não está sozinho nessa batalha. Em fevereiro, um representante da comissão europeia sobre o mercado digital também se posicionou contra o bloqueio geográfico, classificando-o como um tipo de descriminação.
Reconstructions of human evolution are prone to simple, overly-tidy scenarios. Our ancestors, for example, stood on two legs to look over tall grass, or began to speak because, well, they finally had something to say. Like much of our understanding of early hominid behavior, the imagined diet of our ancestors has also been over-simplified.
Take the trendy Paleo Diet, which draws inspiration from how people lived during the Paleolithic or Stone Age, which ran from roughly 2.6 million to 10,000 years ago. It encourages practitioners to give up the fruits of modern culinary progress—such as dairy, agricultural products, and processed foods—and start living a pseudo-hunter-gatherer lifestyle, something like Lon Chaney Jr. in the film One Million B.C. Adherents recommend a very specific “ancestral” menu, replete with certain percentages of energy from carbohydrates, proteins, and fats, and suggested levels of physical activity. These prescriptions are drawn mainly from observations of modern humans who live at least a partial hunter-gatherer existence.
But from a scientific standpoint, these kinds of simple characterizations of our ancestors' behavior generally don’t add up. Recently, fellow anthropologist C. Owen Lovejoy and I took a close look at this crucial question in human behavioral evolution: the origins of hominid diet. We focused on the earliest phase of hominid evolution from roughly six to 1.6 million years ago, both before and after the first use of modified stone tools. This time frame includes, in order of appearance, the hominids Ardipithecus and Australopithecus, and the earliest members of our own genus, the comparatively brainy Homo. None of these were modern humans, which appeared much later, but rather our distant forerunners.
We examined the fossil, chemical, and archaeological evidence, and also closely considered the foraging behavior of living animals. Why is this crucial? Observing animals in nature for even an hour will provide a ready answer: Almost all of what an organism does on a daily basis is simply related to staying alive; that includes activities such as feeding, avoiding predators, and setting itself up to reproduce. That’s the evolutionary way.
What did our ancestors actually eat? In some cases, researchers can enlist modern technology to examine the question. Researchers study the chemical makeup of fossil dental enamel to figure out relative amounts of foods the hominid ate derived from woody plants (or the animals that ate them) versus open country plants. Other scientists look in ancient tooth tartar for bits of silica from plants that can be identified to type—for example, fruit from a particular plant family. Others examine the small butchering marks made on animal bones by stone tools. Researchers have found, for example, that hominids even 2.6 million years ago were eating the meat and bone marrow of antelopes; whether they were hunted or scavenged is hotly debated.
Such techniques are informative, but ultimately give only a hazy picture of diet. They provide good evidence that plants' underground storage organs (such as tubers), sedges, fruits, invertebrate and vertebrate animals, leaves, and bark were all on the menu for at least some early hominids. But they don’t give us information about the relative importance of various foods. And since these foods are all eaten at least occasionally by living monkeys and apes, these techniques don’t explain what sets hominids apart from other primates.
So how should we proceed? As my colleague Lovejoy says, to reconstruct hominid evolution you need to take the rules that apply to beavers and use them to make a human. In other words, you must look at the “rules” for foraging. We aren’t the first researchers to have dabbled in this. As long ago as 1953, anthropologists George Bartholomew and Joseph Birdsell attempted to characterize the ecology of early hominids by applying general biological principles.
Happily, ecologists have long been compiling these rules in an area of research dubbed optimal foraging theory (OFT). OFT uses simple mathematical models to predict how certain animals would forage in a given circumstance. For instance, given a set of potential foods of estimated energetic value, abundance, and handling time (how long it takes to acquire and consume), one classic OFT model calculates which resources should be eaten and which ones should be passed over. One prediction—sort of a “golden rule” of foraging—is that when profitable foods (those high in energy and low in handling time) are abundant, an animal should specialize on them, but when they are scarce, an animal should broaden its diet.
Data from living organisms as disparate as insects and modern humans generally fall in line with such predictions. In the Nepal Himalaya, for example, high-altitude gray langur monkeys eschew leathery mature evergreen leaves and certain types of roots and bark—all calorie-deficient and high in fibers and handling time—during most of the year. But in the barren winter, when better foodstuffs are rare or unavailable, they’ll greedily devour them.
In another more controlled study, when differing quantities of almonds in or out of the shell are buried in view of chimpanzees, they later recover larger quantities (more energy), those physically closer (less pursuit time), and those without shells (less processing time) before smaller, more distant, or “with-shell” nuts. This suggests that at least some animals can remember optimal foraging variables and utilize them even in cases where foods are distant and outside the range of immediate perception. Both of these studies support key predictions from OFT.
If one could estimate the variables important to foraging, one could potentially predict the diet of particular hominids that lived in the distant past. It’s a daunting proposition, but this human evolution business was never meant to be easy. The OFT approach forces researchers to learn how and why animals exploit particular resources, which leads to more thoughtful considerations of early hominid ecology. A smattering of scientists have utilized OFT with success, most notably in archaeological treatments of comparatively recent hominids, such as Neandertals and anatomically modern humans.
But a few brave souls have delved into more remote human dietary history. One team, for example, utilized OFT, modern analogue habitats, and evidence from the fossil record to estimate the predicted optimal diet of Australopithecus boisei. That’s the famed “Nutcracker Man” that lived in East Africa close to 2 million years ago. The research suggests a wide range of potential foods, greatly varying movement patterns—based on characteristics such as habitat or use of digging sticks—and the seasonal importance of certain resources, such as roots and tubers, for meeting estimated caloric requirements.
Researchers Tom Hatley and John Kappelman noted in 1980 that hominids have bunodont—low, with rounded cusps—back teeth that show much in common with bears and pigs. If you’ve watched these animals forage, you know they’ll eat just about anything: tubers, fruits, leafy materials and twigs, invertebrates, honey, and vertebrate animals, whether scavenged or hunted. The percentage contribution of each food type to the diet will depend (you guessed it) on the energetic value of specific foods in specific habitats, at specific times of year. Evidence from the entirety of human evolution suggests that our ancestors, and even we as modern humans, are just as omnivorous.
And the idea that our more ancient ancestors were great hunters is likely off the mark, as bipedality—at least before the advance of sophisticated cognition and technology—is a mighty poor way to chase game. Even more so than bears and pigs, our mobility is limited. The anthropologist Bruce Latimer has pointed out that the fastest human being on the planet can’t catch up to your average rabbit. Another reason to be opportunistic about food.
Simple characterizations of hominid ecology are divorced from the actual, and wonderful, complexity of our shared history. The recent addition of pastoral and agricultural products to many modern human diets—for which we have rapidly evolved physiological adaptations—is but one extension of an ancient imperative. Hominids didn’t spread first across Africa, and then the entire globe, by utilizing just one foraging strategy or sticking to a precise mix of carbohydrates, proteins, and fats. We did it by being ever so flexible, both socially and ecologically, and always searching for the greener grass (metaphorically), or riper fruit (literally).
Behind the Scenes with a Pixar & Telltale Games Veteran Total: 1897101
Stephan on set with an improvised lighting rig. Lights Film School sat down with writer/filmmaker Stephan Bugaj to discuss his multimedia experiences. Most recently, Stephan worked with Telltale Games as Creative Development Director, where he helped develop narrative and visual storytelling for “Game of Thrones”, “The Walking Dead”, and others.
Before that, he spent twelve years as a Technical Director and Story Developer at Pixar Animation Studios, where he helped evolve the animated feature production pipeline and co-created a couple of unannounced projects. Since then, Stephan has produced a variety of independent projects, from films to spec scripts to graphic novels.
Hello, Stephan! Thanks for taking the time to discuss your work. I’m amazed by the variety and depth of your experience. It’s hard to know where to start, so I suppose we’ll start at the beginning – when and how did you begin at Pixar Animation Studios? What drew you to them, and them to you? What was your first job there, and where did it lead within the company?
Thanks! I began at Pixar in 2002. I was drawn to them because I always wanted to make movies, and was hoping that I would be able to leverage both my technical and creative talents to do so at Pixar.
They were interested in me initially because I knew about Internet and Intranet technologies that not a lot of people there knew at the time. That was my “in”, and once in, I learned the Pixar animation system and made some workflow improvements. Proving I could work the system led to a gig as a simulation TD, in which role I showed that I had “an eye” by hand-tweaking a lot of my sim results to look better. Then I moved into shader writing and surfacing, then I became a generalist TD who was capable of working in almost all of the pipeline. I did everything from (background and procedural) animation to writing software.
All along the way I was taking every writing and directing class I could, befriended Mark Andrews (and Brian Larsen, Ted Mathot, Scott Morse, Derek Thompson and Bill Presing) as a story and directing mentor, and wrote a lot. After placing well in the big contests and impressing both Mark and Pixar’s development executive Mary Coleman, I ultimately worked my way into screenwriting at Pixar for a year – becoming the only person ever to go from being a TD to a writer at Pixar.
I started writing workflow software, and I also finished writing workflow software, and in between I did cloth and hair simulation, shader writing and surfacing, rendering and compositing, and a bit of crowds and sets/props animation, motion graphics, VFX and rigging. So I became a true generalist; I know how an animated movie is made, in intimate detail, from the storyboarding process through filmout as I’ve worked in or closely with every discipline in the pipeline. I can direct animation very well because I actually know what all the artists do and how to see it.
My favorite and most fulfilling projects were the (since canceled) projects I codeveloped with Mark and Brian when I was a screenwriter at Pixar. It was great to help create the story, write the treatments and scripts, and be an essential part of the core creative team. On the TD side, “The Incredibles” was my first and therefore most challenging, and also my favorite Pixar film. But “Brave” was the film where I made the greatest difference – both Pixar’s new animation system and that film’s production pipeline were shaped in no small part due to my work.
Shifting gears, we’d love to hear about your experience as a Story Developer at Pixar. The studio’s impressive track record is no secret – how does the team keep the narrative magic alive? How are stories developed and ultimately written at Pixar? I imagine it’s a fairly collaborative process?
Story development at Pixar is immensely collaborative. For starters, the core team is at least three people: a director, a writer, and a head of story (lead storyboard artist). And a producer is involved from day zero, as well. So before you even involve development executives, then the Brain Trust, then the whole crew, you’re already collaborating with three or more (if there’s a writing team or co-director involved) people.
The writing process looks pretty standard: pitch, outline, treatment, script. But inside a studio, every one of those things is collaborated on and reviewed by a lot of people.
The pitch – which was created by at least three people – is first tested on peers, then the producer, then the development execs, then finally the Brain Trust. If it then goes to outline, treatment, and script, that process of multiple check-ins and notes sessions repeats at every step. And since storyboarding starts with beat boards during the treatment phase, notes about staging, pacing, tone, and style come early and often as well. So you’ve got notes flowing in about the text, and more about the visual direction, and the team (with the development execs’ help). A story will go through at least a dozen major iterations during the process, and many more smaller iterations.
The narrative magic is kept alive by lots of people working hard to come up with compelling ideas and develop them into great stories, through a grueling process that involves numerous story notes sessions (dozens, maybe hundreds, by the time a film is released) not just with the Brain Trust but also with peers, and multiple animatics screenings (showing the film as cut-together storyboards with dialogue and temp music) in front of the Brain Trust, then the staff, and ultimately test audiences. So the “magic” is actually a lot of hard work, and frequent testing.
And being willing to delay projects, and put more money into them, when they’re not quite working. That has happened on far more Pixar films than most people realize. There is no “magic bullet”, and the people at Pixar are not infallible; they’re just willing to work hard and admit when things are going wrong and do what it takes to fix the situation rather than put out a bad product.
There’s also the fact that mature studios develop a format, and a house style, which is policed by the executives and Brain Trust. It’s a sword that cuts both ways in terms of freshness and innovation, but internalizing those rules really does a lot to enable a thousand plus people to all work towards the same goal of creating “A Pixar Film”, because they all know exactly what they’re making.
I didn’t realize how collaborative the process was. I’m curious to know what “a typical day” in the life of a Pixar employee looks like, considering how many people are involved!
Arrive at work. Drink coffee and chat with your peers. Go to far more meetings than seems sensible. Grouse about the things in those meetings you disagree with. Celebrate your artistic or technical victories. And then sit at your desk and push yourself to do great work at whatever it is you’re doing.
It’s digital filmmaking, so it’s not like anyone was blowing up cars in the parking lot or filling huge tanks of water with epic ship battles (sometimes you might set a toy car on fire in the parking lot for reference, but that’s not the same). It’s just a thousand plus people sitting at computers, and in meeting rooms, driving themselves to refine the artistry of every element in the film.
When I first started, people worked a lot more overtime, which both was awful and fostered a more extreme sense of camaraderie amongst teammates. It was awful for producers, too, because it made scheduling and budgeting an ongoing nightmare – so they (more or less) fixed it.
StephanBugajInterview_GameController
So how did you find your way from Pixar to Telltale Games, Stephan? More generally, what inspired you to make the leap from film to interactive media?
Telltale actually found me. Their recruiter reached out to me to apply for the Creative Development Director position (heading up all writing and directing), and they liked me in the interview.
I left Pixar because I was taken off my project at Pixar – happens to writers all the time, but it’s always painful – and I wanted to keep working on story, writing and directing; not go back to tech. And there were only four companies in the Bay Area that developed great stories in-house: Pixar, Lucasfilm, Dreamworks/PDI, and Telltale Games.
The film industry having many well-publicized problems, and me being a lifelong gamer, I figured I would go back to the interactive industry (where I started in the 90s) because Telltale (and a few others) seemed to be telling better stories than 90% of films and TV shows.
Interesting perspective! What were your responsibilities as Creative Development Director at Telltale? What games did you work on, and in what capacity?
The CDD role headed up all writing and directing, so I hired writers, put writers and directors on projects, gave notes and ran review sessions, put together and ran writers’ rooms, and when necessary, wrote and directed things myself.
I worked on season two of “Walking Dead”, “The Wolf Among Us”, “Game of Thrones”, “Tales from the Borderlands”, a still unannounced project, and a tiny bit of Minecraft. On “Walking Dead” and “Wolf”, I mainly gave lots of notes in lots of reviews, which resulted in helping to shape the endings of both seasons (more so in the case of “Walking Dead”, which changed pretty radically before release).
On “Thrones” and “Borderlands”, I was involved in running the writers’ rooms that established the stories for both seasons, helping to shape the overall season arcs, character cores, themes, tone, and style. On Borderlands, I took the lead 100%. On “Thrones”, I supported the existing leads, but contributed substantially. I also ended up co-writing the first episode of “Borderlands” and doing some directing on both the “Thrones” and “Borderlands” first episodes. Since I’ve left, I’m sure a bunch of story elements have changed in both seasons I helped set-up. That’s why it’s called development!
StephanBugajInterview_HandBrainstorming
What does a story break session look like? How many people are involved, and who does what? How do you direct everyone’s different ideas into one creative vision?
It looks like this: a bunch of people and coffee (or Diet Coke, or iced tea, in the case of Mark and I) sitting around in a room trying to make a story work.
Often, whiteboards are involved. Our Pixar story room was painted with whiteboard paint, and we often covered all the walls. People throw out ideas, and write them down (unless the CD or Director says “great idea but not for this project” right off the bat). The team debates the ideas’ relative merits, and tries to put them together into a sensible structure. Things like the theme, tone, character arcs, and major plot points usually get debated first, since the first order of business is answering the question, “What are you trying to say in this story”? Then all the stylistic elements and details start to get filled in.
Structuring the session requires the person running it to have goals for what the team should be focused on for that session. For example, if the goal is “finding” the main character (her wants and needs and flaws and goals and all that sort of thing), then you try to keep everyone focused on things that impact that.
Who does what is team dependent. Usually a writer writes, a head of story handles the visual elements, a designer handles player concerns (in interactive), and a CD or director ties it all together.
But that’s after the session. During the session, everyone throws out ideas and debates them. If you have an assistant to take notes, great. If not, everyone does and then you put them all together. If there’s a dedicated room runner to write on the walls and keep the idea tossing and debates from devolving into chaos, great. If not, someone takes on the role (usually the CD or Director, but sometimes they’re just not in the mood and cede that to someone else).
Directing all the ideas into one creative vision requires having the creative vision in the first place, and the ability to see when someone else’s ideas are changing it for the better rather than being too precious. Pragmatically, on a day-to-day basis, it means culling the things that simply do not fit the vision in the room, then giving notes on the rest of the team’s work (writing, boarding, etc.) that happens after the session.
Awesome! Let’s talk mixing mediums, Stephan. Telltale excels at extending the narratives of established television franchises, and they recently teamed with Lionsgate to create an original “supershow”, ie., an experience that will be half-television, half-game. I’d love to hear your thoughts on the relationship between the two mediums. What are their similarities and differences, from both a consumer and creator standpoint? How, if at all, can one inform the other?
I am quite excited about the supershow concept. Mark and I and others had been trying to get Pixar/Disney more interested in more integrated franchise stories for a while, so that concept was one of the reasons I joined Telltale.
I think television and serialized games, or film and stand-alone games, can support each other instead of one just being a rehash of the other. That fails because the story for one medium isn’t the ideal story for the other, so trying to directly translate it often feels insufficient. The best adapters, like the folks at Telltale, realize that different media have different strengths and weaknesses and don’t try to be too faithful to the source.
Similarities and differences are key. There are of course many small differences, but the big one is that in interactive, giving the player an enjoyable response to their input is of paramount importance. Players want to do things that matter in the story world, they don’t just want a passive story experience in which their input merely adds window dressing onto inevitable throughlines. This doesn’t have to mean changing major outcomes: Telltale succeeds by making the player manage character relationships, and outcome management is often secondary (or missing entirely).
Linear media is a more passive experience, so the viewer needs to be constantly engaged in the character drama and plot. You can’t have a scene with terrible pacing or no real character development just because it’s an interesting environment to explore. The similarities are that every story must have compelling characters and an engaging plot. For more details on story in general, you can read my eBook on Pixar’s 22 Rules, or thousands of other blogs and books on the topic.
I think the opportunity in something like a supershow is to tell different stories in the two media that are part of the same world, that broaden the franchise story in interesting and interrelated ways, but play to each medium’s strengths.
Without making a big to-do about it, Lucasfilm has been doing this pretty well (in partnership with EA) for years. I think it can be done even better if the story development is even more integrated than it is at Lucasfilm. The supershow concept involves more direct tie-ins between the two media, which I think can work if done correctly (it’s actually been tried, and has failed, before). There are lots of cheesy and unsatisfying ways to do that, but focusing on where the interconnections are in terms of plot and character – and more importantly, knowing that there will be many places where they aren’t – is crucial.
StephanBugajInterview_Flowchart
I’d love to hear more about how the development and writing process for a film is different from the development and writing process for a video game. What are your thoughts? Also, what are the differences in the directing process?
For non-narrative games, it can be completely different: someone designs a game, and then a story is fitted onto the existing structure. For narrative games, the beginnings are quite similar: you find your themes, characters, tone and plot at a high level, and then start refining and adding detail.
In the narrative game process, you need to be constantly worried about player interaction, which means caring about how players feel about the outcomes of their inputs. That is the radical difference, the player-driven outcomes. That results in the pragmatic difference: having to write N (usually 4) variants of each moment in a scene and tying all those together into a coherent narrative.
I tell linear writers to think of it this way: when we write a script, we ask ourselves things like: “How might this scene play out if the character got angry at this moment? What if, instead, she got excited by the challenge? Or if she was dismissive of the whole thing? Or she just got depressed and sullen?” In a linear, we’d pick one. In interactive narratives, we’d likely write all four, provided those four gave the player the most satisfying “choice space”.
Otherwise, it’s the same. Character is character, plot is plot, and dialog is always an ongoing struggle between what you want to say and the character’s true voice.
As for directing, it’s the same: other than keeping vigilant about interactivity and player satisfaction, it’s basically exactly the same as directing an animated film (and, if the director is only handling voice acting and animation, it’s even more similar).
Good points! Do you have any predictions concerning how games and television/films might influence and interact with each other in the future?
Unified franchise stories are coming, it’s just a matter of time and we’ll see who gets there first (I have an idea who it will be, and am currently in the process of trying to work with them, because I think true transmedia franchise development is the future of commercial storytelling).
Whether it will be exactly the Telltale supershow format or something else that gets traction first, I think a convergence is inevitable. The commercial pressure is there, too. Steam wants a reason for linear content to come onto their platform, Amazon wants a differentiator beyond “you can watch the whole season in one day”, and broadcast and cable will eventually realize they need to drive engagement (which a time sensitive game tie-in would do).
Someone is going to be the first to do a good job of having the linear and interactive stories cross-over in satisfying ways; then we’ll all copy them until someone has a better idea. Those who do this kind of thing right, from the story perspective, will tell different stories in film, TV, mobile, AAA games, narrative games, comics, books, VR and AR. Stories that play to the strength of each medium.
You could say Marvel is already there, but they’ve got a lot of historical material that prevents truly developing the franchise from day one with all media in mind. How they’re handling cross media franchise development is a good guideline for doing certain things right, though they’re doing much less well with games, like everyone in Hollywood, because too many linear execs consider gaming a second class citizen despite the financial reality that the game industry is bigger.
Speaking of the game industry, I’m also curious to know what “a typical day” in the life of a studio game designer looks like!
At Telltale it looked very much like a writer’s day, except the designer focused on choice spaces and outcome satisfaction (and puzzles and combat flow), and the writer focused on setting, character, and dialog.
Puzzle, investigation, and combat design is something a designer does that writers are pretty uninvolved with. The choice space/narrative branching work is shared.
StephanBugajInterview_Ringer3
Since Pixar and Telltale Games, you’ve worked on a medley of independent projects; for example, Ringer. Since you’ve been on both sides – ie., studio and independent – we’d love to hear your thoughts on how working in one capacity differs from working in the other. How does the writing and development process change? What about the production pipeline? More generally, what are the pros and cons of a studio context versus an independent context?
When you’re truly independent, you basically have no money (what Hollywood calls “the independents” are mostly production companies with some kind of budget, but there are also tons of people out there making “no budget” productions however they can). Even at the better funded independent level, you don’t have dedicated story rooms, assistants, projects with five writers, ten animatics screenings, a thousand people to give you notes, and so on. It also means you have even less chance of your project ever getting made, even if it is good (though some great projects have been shut down at Pixar, too).
When you’re an independent filmmaker, you also don’t draw a salary, so you have to find other ways to pay rent. All the same pressure to perform is there, but the resources are not. So the writing and development process narrows down to just one or two people. (I also hire paid readers to give me notes because I thrive off notes.) And everything else in the production process also scales down in size, curtailing scope and visual ambition. Independents make smaller movies (and games) because they have to.
There are absolutely no pros to being independent other than more control over your material. And the (very remote) chance of breaking big enough with something you own a large enough stake in to become a mini-major off that success. (Even then, it takes outside investment to get to that level.) The production process is the same, but scaled to however much money you can raise. The fundraising process is outrageously difficult and frustrating, compared to the studio system, where getting a green light isn’t exactly trivial, either. It involves piecing together small sums from small investors, something thankfully made a little easier (but by no means easy) by platforms like Kickstarter and Indiegogo.
That creative control is a big deal, though. Most independents are making projects they can’t get bigger players interested in, so that material simply wouldn’t exist without us!
Hard but wise words, Stephan. We actually published an independent film financing series some months ago that tackles many of the practical questions you raise here. Let’s talk about your indie project, Ringer. What is it and how are you working on it?
“Ringer” is a sci-fi noir set in a world in where alien shape shifters called “Ringers” have been banned from earth except in special free trade zones. The Ringers are banned because they are able to take on any human form they come in contact with, and the resultant widespread fear about them doing every unsavory thing, from tricking lovers into trysts to usurping presidents.
Many illegals, known as “jumpers”, leap into the bay as ships approach trade docks located in all the big shipping cities. These jumpers, if not caught, slip away into human society in search of a better life. They shapeshift into human form and adopt human identities, trying to blend in as best they can. Some lead secret, normal lives, while others join dangerous criminal gangs. The criminal gangs peddle a drug which gives humans the temporary ability to shapeshift, further threatening the nativists and driving a greater wedge between the two species.
A series of alien murders committed by a human nativist organization called the “Eagle Guards”, and a series of human murders committed by the alien drug ring “Voroi”, forces an alien Cop to break the rules and become a “jumper” – and take on the persona of a corrupt nativist cop – in order to infiltrate this web of intrigue and bring down both syndicates before human-alien tensions escalate past the point of no return.
Along the way he will uncover an incredible secret – one that will change the fate of both species.
That’s the pitch! The project right now is just me (co-creator, writer) and Greg Jonkajtys (co-creator, director), with whom I’m also working on another untiled project codenamed VHS and one called Snow King. Greg and I come up with the basic story elements together, just like Mark, Brian, and I did at Pixar. Then I focus on writing the pitches, treatments, scripts, and so on, and Greg focuses on the visuals (both creating them and finding and directing people to create more).
Since we don’t have a prodco or studio involved, yet, we’re also essentially both producers on the project. We are trying to find funding for a teaser short (we might go to Kickstarter for that if the current leads do not pan out), which we will then use to bring the project to financiers. “Ringer” requires a nontrivial budget, so our goal is to use our “no budget” resources to build enough interest and material to get direct financing or a well-funded prodco engaged so we can make it.
StephanBugajInterview_Ringer2
Sounds like a treat for the sci-fi enthusiasts! On a different note, I understand you’re involved with two companies, Visioneer and WakingUp Media. What are they all about?
Visioneer exists to bring the Pixar production process to live action filmmaking, but at a more modest scale ($5-20M budgets). WakingUp exists to create positive lifestyle entertainment that is actually entertaining, rather than preachy. Both have slates of material already secured, and are seeking funding.
I’m also involved with a few VR startups as a creative advisor, writer, and/or director, but nothing that can be discussed yet.
And I’m the writer on a project in development at Marza Animation Planet, which is the animation company owned by SegaSammy. It’s a great concept, I hope it goes forward.
And I’m writing the next Amar graphic novel. And I’m codeveloping some projects with a director who was most recently at Dreamworks. And developing three game, TV, and film franchises for China with a producer I know. And a project I wrote for a producer in Poland seems to be getting some traction. And… And…
Yet, I am still out pitching new ideas to anyone who will listen pretty much every day, because all of those things I’ve mentioned could fall apart at any moment for one reason or another. And when you’re not drawing a salary, you always have to piece-together small paying gigs until (hopefully) something you’re making or pitching hits the “get paid real money” phase.
That’s the nature of being an independent: you have pitch and pitch and pitch, and involve yourself in everything you have the capacity for, because so many projects will fail to gain traction either creatively or because of lack of funding. As a UCLA professor of mine once put it: “be creatively promiscuous”, because most projects, even many that would be fantastic if they got made, fall apart.
More hard but wise words! Anything else you’d like to share with aspiring filmmakers, Stephan? What about for aspiring screenwriters? How does one “break in” to the industry?
Filmmakers, make films. Even tiny, crappy ones. Writers, write. To break in, you need to work hard and get lucky. And you need to be willing to fail, repeatedly, and keep on going.
It also helps to be nice to people, even when you’re feeling frustrated. Being rejected dozens to hundreds of times before achieving even a small first success is hard.
It’s okay to get upset, you’re only human. It’s even okay to say “I’m frustrated by all this rejection” or “I am a failure and I am going to drink myself to death”… but this is a relationship business, so you can’t direct those feelings at anyone in particular. (Go rant on Facebook like everyone else in the business, but never ever name names, or be specific in any way – it’s not those individuals, anyway; it’s the nature of the beast.)
One thing that people say all the time that I’ve found not to be true is this: you only get one chance so if someone rejects you forget it. Actually, many people in the industry – if they see that you’re hard working and are a decent person that they enjoy having in the room – will absolutely let someone whose material they rejected previously come back and try again.
There are executives that I’ve pitched three, six, a dozen times and they keep bothering to take the time to listen. You just have to be someone they’d want to see again. And their time is quite valuable, so if they give any of it to you, make the most of it.
Great! Any words of advice for aspiring game-makers? What about for aspiring game writers? How does one “break in” to the industry?
Same as for aspiring filmmakers: make games. Work hard. Be someone people want to work with. It’s actually easier to make games now thanks to things like Unity and Unreal, and the success of games like “Gone Home” and “The Stanley Parable” that show you don’t necessarily have to have a big team to reach people.
And in both cases, ask yourself why you want to be in the industry, why you want to write or direct. If you love the medium and are compelled to create, it’s the right move. If you want to get rich and famous, you’re better off becoming the CEO of a high-tech startup.
Wow. This is some incredible insight into the film, television, and gaming industries, Stephan. Thanks for sharing your time and expertise! I raise a toast to “creative promiscuity”… Best to you and to our readers, as all of us develop our projects!
For more from Stephan, visit his website, bugaj.com.
Quando vi esta imagem a primeira coisa que pensei é se se resistiria a uma chuva de granizo ...
Converter a energia do sol em energia elétrica está mais prático e mais fácil. Mais uma inovação sustentável no mercado da construção civil está se popularizando na Europa e Estados Unidos. São as telhas solares ou telhas fotovoltaicas. Se você ainda não teve a oportunidade de vê-las, não se preocupe, pois muito em breve elas serão bastante comuns nos telhados da sua cidade.
Essas telhas são constituídas de pequenos painéis solares integrados na sua parte lisa. Com isso, o aspecto visual do telhado não fica tão comprometido como ficaria no caso da instalação dos painéis fotovoltaicos, julgados como esteticamente feios e por isso muitas vezes rejeitado.
Além da eficiência energética de alguns modelos dessas telhas ser maior do que dos painéis solares tradicionais, aquelas podem gerar uma média de 860 kWh ao ano por 10 m2 de telhado, em localidades onde o sol bate em torno de 6 horas por dia, segundo a fabricante SRS Energy. Esses números mostram a funcionalidade do sistema, já que uma família de 04 pessoas consome uma média de 2240 kWh por ano, de acordo com o Ministério de Minas e Energia, então um telhado com 26 m² de telhas solares já atende à demanda da casa.
O Brasil ainda não dispõe desta tecnologia, mas, como empresas especializadas nos Estados Unidos e em países da Europa estão trabalhando para desenvolver diversos modelos adaptáveis em qualquer telhado (nesses países, o uso de energia solar e outras fontes alternativas é estimulado), quando esta novidade chegar por aqui, teremos mais opções de compra.
O custo das telhas fotovoltaicas é alto, até mesmo mais alto que o dos painéis solares. Mas a economia na conta de luz e o fato de se estar usando uma fonte de energia que contribui para a sustentabilidade do nosso planeta são bons motivos para que esta inovação seja abraçada pelos brasileiros.
Vamos torcer para que as autoridades governamentais em nosso país “acordem” para a importância de se ampliar a nossa matriz energética e nos dê espaço e incentivo para o uso de fontes de energia limpa, como esta.
Ivana Jatobá é Engenheira Civil graduada na Universidade Católica do Salvador, especializada em Gerenciamento da Construção Civil pela Universidade Estadual de Feira de Santana, Bahia e Mestre em Gerenciamento de Engenharia Ambiental pela University of Technology, Sydney, Austrália. Atua como consultora em implantação de sistema de qualidade ISO 9001 e Meio Ambiente ISO 14000 em canteiros de obras.
Ivana Jatobá escreve às quintas aqui no Universo Jatobá.
Insira aqui o seu email para receber gratuitamente as atualizações do Universo Jatobá!
I am writing as one who has lived among you in America only a little more than ten years. And I am writing seriously and warningly. Many readers may ask:
"What right has he to speak about things which concern us alone, and which no newcomer should touch?"
I do not think such a standpoint is justified. One who has grown up in an environment takes much for granted. On the other hand, one who has come to this country as a mature person may have a keen eye for everything peculiar and characteristic. I believe he should speak out freely on what he sees and feels, for by so doing he may perhaps prove himself useful.
What soon makes the new arrival devoted to this country is the democratic trait among the people. I am not thinking here so much of the democratic political constitution of this country, however highly it must be praised. I am thinking of the relationship between individual people and of the attitude they maintain toward one another.
In the United States everyone feels assured of his worth as an individual. No one humbles himself before another person or class. Even the great difference in wealth, the superior power of a few, cannot undermine this healthy self-confidence and natural respect for the dignity of one's fellow-man.
There is, however, a somber point in the social outlook of Americans. Their sense of equality and human dignity is mainly limited to men of white skins. Even among these there are prejudices of which I as a Jew am clearly conscious; but they are unimportant in comparison with the attitude of the "Whites" toward their fellow-citizens of darker complexion, particularly toward Negroes. The more I feel an American, the more this situation pains me. I can escape the feeling of complicity in it only by speaking out.
Many a sincere person will answer: "Our attitude towards Negroes is the result of unfavorable experiences which we have had by living side by side with Negroes in this country. They are not our equals in intelligence, sense of responsibility, reliability."
I am firmly convinced that whoever believes this suffers from a fatal misconception. Your ancestors dragged these black people from their homes by force; and in the white man's quest for wealth and an easy life they have been ruthlessly suppressed and exploited, degraded into slavery. The modern prejudice against Negroes is the result of the desire to maintain this unworthy condition.
The ancient Greeks also had slaves. They were not Negroes but white men who had been taken captive in war. There could be no talk of racial differences. And yet Aristotle, one of the great Greek philosophers, declared slaves inferior beings who were justly subdued and deprived of their liberty. It is clear that he was enmeshed in a traditional prejudice from which, despite his extraordinary intellect, he could not free himself.
A large part of our attitude toward things is conditioned by opinions and emotions which we unconsciously absorb as children from our environment. In other words, it is tradition—besides inherited aptitudes and qualities—which makes us what we are. We but rarely reflect how relatively small as compared with the powerful influence of tradition is the influence of our conscious thought upon our conduct and convictions.
It would be foolish to despise tradition. But with our growing self-consciousness and increasing intelligence we must begin to control tradition and assume a critical attitude toward it, if human relations are ever to change for the better. We must try to recognize what in our accepted tradition is damaging to our fate and dignity—and shape our lives accordingly.
I believe that whoever tries to think things through honestly will soon recognize how unworthy and even fatal is the traditional bias against Negroes.
What, however, can the man of good will do to combat this deeply rooted prejudice? He must have the courage to set an example by word and deed, and must watch lest his children become influenced by this racial bias.
I do not believe there is a way in which this deeply entrenched evil can be quickly healed.
But until this goal is reached there is no greater satisfaction for a just and well-meaning person than the knowledge that he has devoted his best energies to the service of the good cause.
Series Created by Andy Signore http://twitter.com/andysignore & Brett Weiner Written by Spencer Gilbert, Dan Murrell, Erica Russell & Andy Signore Edited by Dan Murrell ---
Let us know in the comments below what movie or TV show you want to see next! Check out our previous HONEST TRAILERS!
Honest Trailers - THE HOBBIT: THE BATTLE OF THE FIVE ARMIES (feat. How It Should Have Ended): http://bit.ly/1IzpGIN
Muita gente, assim como eu, adora Star Trek, e a série clássica sempre vai ocupar um lugarzinho especial no coração de cada fã, porém, é preciso admitir que o ponto forte dos primórdios da série não era a verossimilhança nas cenas de luta corpo-a-corpo. Tudo bem que talvez nenhum seriado da época fosse um primor nesse quesito, mas as acrobacias marciais de William Shatner como Capitão Kirk são algo digno de comentários, daqui até o fim dos tempos.
Esse não é o momento mais constrangedor!
Claro que isso não tira o valor da série como um todo, nem desmerece o conteúdo dos roteiros à frente de sua época, mas se o próprio ator já mostrou que consegue rir de algumas de suas performances, por que não faríamos o mesmo?
Com essa ideia em mente, o Watchmojo publicou um vídeo no Youtube que compila os melhores momentos de Kirk na pancadaria. Dá impressão de que a pessoa que bolou essas sequencias estava é tirando um belo sarro de todo mundo.
Confira:
Aproveitando, quando eu citei que William Shatner sabe rir de si mesmo, eu estava falando de coisas assim:
Qual o significado do termo casa de mãe-joana? Vamos ao indispensável Cascudo (sempre citado aqui, p.81):
“Joana, rainha de Nápoles e condessa da Provença (1326-1382), em sua tumultuosa existência, refugiou-se em Avignon (1346). No ano seguinte regulamentou os bordéis da cidade. Um dos artigos estatutais dizia: – et que siegs une porto…dou todas las gens entraron. Tenha uma porta por onde todos entrarão. Ficou sendo o prostíbulo o Paço da Mãe-Joana, e assim o nome divulgou-se em Portugal. [Cascudo, L. da Câmara. Locuções tradicionais no Brasil, Itatiaia/EDUSP, 1986]
Fico imaginando o motivo de se ter uma só porta. Facilitar a cobrança? Não sei (quem souber e quiser comentar, agradeço). Mas sei que me parece mais um daqueles casos em que você entra para a História, mas não exatamente como achava que deveria entrar…
p.s. um bom começo de história dos bordéis (com alguns aspectos microeconômicos interessantes) está na Wikipedia de língua inglesa.
Mais do que nunca, precisamos da ciência. Mesmo assim, ainda tem gente com dificuldade para obter informações sobre o método científico e as conquistas obtidas com ele. É incrível que dependamos tanto da ciência e que as pessoas tenham tão pouco conhecimento, ou o que é pior, tenham ideias erradas sobre ela.
Para tornar tudo mais difícil ainda, as ideias equivocadas que estas pessoas têm sobre ciência geralmente são reforçadas por falácias lógicas, ou erros na lógica dedutiva. Como se não bastasse tudo isto, ainda tem gente que se dedica a espalhar estes erros e falácias.
Veja aqui oito dos piores erros lógicos cometidos contra a ciência e o conhecimento científico.
1. Falsa equivalência
Oferecer uma visão equilibrada é importante, mas isto não significa que todas as perspectivas sobre um assunto devem receber o mesmo tempo ou consideração. Esta é a falácia da equivalência: a afirmação de que há uma equivalência lógica entre dois argumentos opostos, quando na verdade não há nenhuma.
Este erro geralmente é cometido por jornalistas tentam apresentar um debate “equilibrado” entre um ponto de vista científico e outro negador da ciência (como no “debate” evolucionista/criacionista entre Bill Nye e Ken Ham). O mais comum é que o lado dissidente não tem evidências, ou apresenta evidências fracas ou de qualidade dúbia. De fato, nem sempre os dois lados de uma discussão estão em pé de igualdade em termos de qualidade e evidência.
Como foi apresentado no blog The Skeptical Raptor, “basta olhar uma apresentação em qualquer das mídias sobre a mudança climática antropogênica. Há um debatedor, geralmente um cientista, que está tentando apresentar dados sutis, contra um outro debatedor fotogênico, possivelmente um cientista (mas de um campo totalmente sem relação com estudos climáticos) que usa falácias lógicas e dados manipulados para apresentar seu argumento. E o espectador pensa que a comunidade geral de cientistas também está dividida entre cada lado do ‘debate’. Entretanto, um debate equilibrado de verdade teria que ter 97 cientistas defendendo a mudança climática causada pelo homem contra 2 ou 3 contra. Um periódico bem respeitado, com fator de impacto bastante alto, o Proceedings of the National Academy of Science, analisou a ciência da mudança climática e determinou que entre 97 a 98% dos pesquisadores em ciência climática aderem à tese de que o ser humano influenciou a mudança climática”.
O The Skeptical Raptor acrescenta que os negadores da ciência tentam criar a falsa equivalência através de vários métodos, a maioria deles falácias por si próprias, incluindo a alegação que a ciência é uma democracia, o apelo à autoridade, conspirações e “manufatrovérsia” (a manufatura ou invenção de controvérsias).
O apelo à natureza e a falácia naturalista tem causado um tremendo dano aos cientistas e seu trabalho. O apelo à natureza é a crença de que o que é natural é “bom” e “correto”, e a falácia naturalista é a dedução de que o que é naturalmente de uma forma, tem que ser aceito como regra.
Os dois têm sido usados para argumentar que o progresso da ciência e tecnologia representa uma ameaça à ordem natural das coisas. É uma linha de pensamento que proclama as maravilhas inerentes das coisas naturais e deplora as coisas não naturais como sendo perigosas e não saudáveis.
Esta convicção se baseia em uma ideia absurda de que as conquistas tecnológicas e científicas da humanidade acontecem fora da natureza, e que nossa atividade no universo serve só para perverter o equilíbrio e fluxo natural das coisas. Este sentimento tem alimentado preocupações e proibições, como as pesquisas biológicas básicas, ao mesmo tempo contribuindo para o surgimento de ideias pseudocientíficas como o Darwinismo Social.
O filósofo George E. Moore argumentou que é um erro tentar definir o conceito de “bom” em termos de alguma propriedade natural. David Hume apontou que há um salto entre “é” e “deve”. Mais ainda, é errado distanciar a humanidade e suas atividades de outros aspectos do universo. Nós estamos trabalhando dentro dele e de acordo com suas leis, nunca em violação delas. O que fazemos e o que produzimos é tão natural quanto todo o resto.
Muitos dos críticos da ciência, deliberada ou inconscientemente, selecionam e compartilham informações que servem para atacar certas alegações da ciência, ao mesmo tempo que ignoram as informações que dão base àquelas alegações.
Um exemplo que todo mundo já deve ter ouvido: “Meu avô fumou e comeu churrasco a vida toda, e nunca ficou doente” (e aí já temos outra falácia, a estatística com números pequenos). Ou então quem aponta circunstâncias favoráveis ao mesmo tempo que ignora as desfavoráveis (e vice-versa), como informar todos os vencedores de um cassino ao mesmo tempo ignorando os perdedores, ou reclamar que o crime está aumentando após ver o noticiário, mas ignorar estatísticas que apontam taxas decrescentes.
É o famoso caso da “evidência anedótica”: alguém tem uma história que supostamente contradiz alguma afirmação científica e de uma hora para outra aquele caso único tem mais peso que todos os trabalhos científicos na área.
4. Apelo à fé
“Não me interessam evidências – eu tenho fé que o que eu acredito é verdade”.
“Discutir sobre Deus é inútil por que Deus está além das razões científicas ou argumentos”.
“Eu me recuso acreditar em toda estas coisas de aquecimento global. Tenho fé que Deus não vai deixar uma coisa assim ruim acontecer conosco”.
Se você já ouviu alguma coisa parecida, você já ouviu o apelo à fé, uma falácia em que as convicções religiosas são contrapostas a razões e evidências. Apesar de muitas destas pessoas acharem que estão agindo de forma racional, a verdade é que a escolha em acreditar em alguma coisa não é substituto para a ciência.
Como o filósofo George M. Felis aponta, apelar para a fé não é só um erro lógico, mas também uma falha moral: “A razão para isto ser tão importante não é simplesmente que as pessoas que abraçam uma fé terão crenças mal-formadas. A razão não é normativa apenas no sentido mínimo que existem estruturas dentro das quais ela deve operar ou ela não é mais razão. Existe um componente ético na razão também, por que as crenças de alguém estão intimamente conectadas com as ações desta pessoa. Algumas destas crenças são por si normativas – crenças sobre o que é bom e correto sobre por que a vida é valiosa e por que e de que forma (veja os debates sobre aborto e eutanásia). E as crenças factuais também são importantes, uma vez que a forma que compreendemos o mundo em que agimos dão forma a cada ação nossa tanto quanto nossos valores e objetivos.
Se alguém desiste da razão na formação de suas crenças, também desiste da única forma de acesso à verdade que temos. Os humanos não têm uma capacidade de perceber e discernir imediatamente o que é verdade, da mesma forma que conseguimos discernir cores e formas (se contarmos com boa iluminação e boa visão). O mais perto que podemos chegar da verdade é justificar as nossas crenças. A fé declara que algumas crenças – as mais importantes, no centro de nossos mundos, que determinam como vemos outras coisas – não precisam ser justificadas”.
Em resumo, você pode acreditar que pode voar, mas isto não vai te libertar da tirania da gravidade.
A ciência não tem todas as respostas, nem finge ter. Não sabemos ainda como funciona a consciência, não sabemos o que causou o Big Bang, e ainda há lacunas no nosso conhecimento sobre como certos traços emergiram via seleção natural. Mas isto não quer dizer que nunca venhamos a saber isso. Mas enquanto não temos estas respostas, é importante reunir evidências, criar hipóteses e assumir o paradigma naturalista (ou seja, todos os fenômenos podem ser explicados sem precisar apelar para as ações de uma força divina).
Infelizmente, entretanto, há uma tendência entre os que querem desacreditar a ciência de preencher estas lacunas de nosso conhecimento com explicações supernaturais e metafísicas. Por exemplo, os criacionistas alegam com frequência que a seleção natural não pode explicar adequadamente a diversidade, complexidade (irredutível ou não) e o aparente projeto da vida na Terra. Da mesma forma, fenômenos neurológicos com as experiências de quase-morte ou experiências alucinatórias como uma presença remota geralmente são explicadas com o sobrenatural quando explicações mais simples são mais prováveis e plausíveis.
O matemático Charles A. Coulson escreveu em 1955:”Não há um ‘Deus das lacunas’ para assumir aqueles pontos estratégicos onde a ciência falha, e a razão é por que as lacunas deste tipo tem o hábito de encolher”, acrescentando que “ou Deus está em toda a Natureza, sem lacunas, ou ele não está nela de forma alguma”.
6. Apelo às consequências
O apelo às consequências pode se apresentar como um tipo de princípio de precaução, um aviso para não se meter em atividades ou empreitadas científicas que ameaçam causar danos (ou resultados indesejáveis) para a saúde humana ou para o ambiente, a partir de uma série de eventos imprevistos (que está relacionado a outra falácia, a do declive escorregadio). Em muitos casos, entretanto, o pessoal anticiência mistura as discussões sobre uma certa linha de investigação científica com supostas consequências morais e filosóficas.
Por exemplo, há um certo medo que a crença na evolução leve ao genocídio, ou que leve à opinião de que os humanos são apenas outro animal na floresta (ou seja, a negação do excepcionalismo humano). Outra preocupação comum é que o ateísmo ou o materialismo levem a uma vida imoral e insatisfatória.
Um outro bom exemplo vem do filme The Matrix, quando perguntam a Neo se ele acredita em destino e ele responde que não. Mas quando perguntado por quê, ele responde: “eu não gosto da ideia de que não estou no controle”. Neste exemplo, Neo não está se baseando em evidências, mas no lado desagradável de acreditar em destino.
Com certeza algumas linhas de pesquisa científica são mais perigosas que outras. Uma das pesquisas recentes envolvendo o vírus H5N1 da gripe aviária é um exemplo que não vale os riscos. Mas não é o método científico ou os cientistas que estão errados, mas a forma com que nos adaptamos ao novo conhecimento.
7. Retenção da anuência
“É apenas uma teoria”.
Não, algumas vezes não é só uma teoria. Quer dizer, os princípios científicos como a seleção natural e a relatividade geral são teorias, mas chega um ponto em que as explicações ou modelos se tornam tão instrutivos e tão úteis que começam a ser tratados como axiomas – uma declaração ou proposição que é tão bem embasada, aceita, ou auto-evidente que devemos deixar de reter nossa anuência, porque fazer diferente é simplesmente irracional.
Não quer dizer que devamos abandonar o ceticismo ou deixar de aperfeiçoar nossos axiomas, mas é importante reconhecer “teorias” úteis quando as encontramos e deixar de desacreditá-las quando se tornam inconvenientes.
8. Brincando de Deus
Esta falácia é o corolário não-secular da falácia naturalista. Não é reconhecida como uma falácia lógica. É mais um erro na forma de pensar – a ideia que a humanidade não deve se meter onde é tradicionalmente o campo de ação da divindade, e que ao fazê-lo, estamos sendo arrogantes, imprudentes e desrespeitosos.
A preocupação é de que estejamos nos metendo a fazer coisas que estão além da nossa compreensão e controle e que o resultado é uma bagunça sem conserto. O risco é de deixar Deus furioso. As tentativas de impedir as pessoas de “brincar de Deus” são geralmente dirigidas a assuntos como controle da natalidade, aborto, eutanásia voluntária, engenharia genética e coleta de células-tronco embrionárias. No futuro, provavelmente vão dizer a mesma coisa de procedimentos de extensão radical da vida e geoengenharia.
Mas a resposta tem sido geralmente que, se não brincarmos de Deus, quem irá? Este era o ponto principal do Iluminismo europeu, e a ascensão do humanismo secular. Trabalhando com a suposição que Deus não existe (ou não interfere nos nossos assuntos), emergiu a opinião popular de que a humanidade tem a obrigação de cuidar de certos assuntos com as próprias mãos, se a intenção é realmente entender o mundo e torná-lo melhor. E, pelo uso da razão e do método científico, a humanidade tem uma chance de sucesso, ao invés de ficar à espera de alguma força sobrenatural. [io9]
Today I found out the red juice in raw red meat is not blood. Nearly all blood is removed from meat during slaughter, which is also why you don’t see blood in raw “white meat”; only an extremely small amount of blood remains within the muscle tissue when you get it from the store.
