Search Results for "anal"

Hear Hours of Lectures by Michel Foucault: Recorded in English & French Between 1961 and 1983

Tucked in the after­ward of the sec­ond, 1982 edi­tion of Hubert Drey­fus and Paul Rabinow’s Michel Fou­cault: Beyond Struc­tural­ism and Hermeneu­tics, we find an impor­tant, but lit­tle-known essay by Fou­cault him­self titled “The Sub­ject and Pow­er.” Here, the French the­o­rist offers what he con­strues as a sum­ma­ry of his life’s work: span­ning 1961’s Mad­ness and Civ­i­liza­tion up to his three-vol­ume, unfin­ished His­to­ry of Sex­u­al­i­ty, still in progress at the time of his death in 1984. He begins by telling us that he has not been, pri­mar­i­ly, con­cerned with pow­er, despite the word’s appear­ance in his essay’s title, its argu­ments, and in near­ly every­thing else he has writ­ten. Instead, he has sought to dis­cov­er the “modes of objec­ti­fi­ca­tion which trans­form human beings into sub­jects.”

This dis­tinc­tion may seem abstruse, a need­less­ly wordy mat­ter of seman­tics. It is not so for Fou­cault. In key crit­i­cal dif­fer­ence lies the orig­i­nal­i­ty of his project, in all its var­i­ous stages of devel­op­ment. “Pow­er,” as an abstrac­tion, an objec­tive rela­tion of dom­i­nance, is sta­t­ic and con­cep­tu­al, the image of a tyrant on a coin, of Thomas Hobbes’ Leviathan seat­ed on his throne.

Sub­jec­tion, sub­jec­ti­fi­ca­tion, objec­tiviz­ing, indi­vid­u­al­iz­ing, on the oth­er hand—critical terms in Foucault’s vocabulary—are active process­es, dis­ci­plines and prac­tices, rela­tion­ships between indi­vid­u­als and insti­tu­tions that deter­mine the char­ac­ter of both. These rela­tion­ships can be locat­ed in his­to­ry, as Fou­cault does in exam­ple after exam­ple, and they can also be crit­i­cal­ly stud­ied in the present, and thus, per­haps, resist­ed and changed in what he terms “anar­chis­tic strug­gles.”

Fou­cault calls for a “new econ­o­my of pow­er rela­tions,” and a crit­i­cal the­o­ry that takes “forms of resis­tance against dif­fer­ent forms of pow­er as a start­ing point.” For exam­ple, in approach­ing the carcer­al state, we must exam­ine the process­es that divide “the crim­i­nals and the ‘good boys,’” process­es that func­tion inde­pen­dent­ly of rea­son. How is it that a sys­tem can cre­ate class­es of peo­ple who belong in cages and peo­ple who don’t, when the stan­dard ratio­nal justification—the pro­tec­tion of soci­ety from violence—fails spec­tac­u­lar­ly to apply in mil­lions of cas­es? From such excess­es, Fou­cault writes, come two “’dis­eases of power’—fascism and Stal­in­ism.” Despite the “inner mad­ness” of these “patho­log­i­cal forms” of state pow­er, “they used to a large extent the ideas and the devices of our polit­i­cal ratio­nal­i­ty.”

Peo­ple come to accept that mass incar­cer­a­tion, or inva­sive med­ical tech­nolo­gies, or eco­nom­ic depri­va­tion, or mass sur­veil­lance and over-polic­ing, are nec­es­sary and ratio­nal. They do so through the agency of what Fou­cault calls “pas­toral pow­er,” the sec­u­lar­iza­tion of reli­gious author­i­ty as inte­gral to the West­ern state.

This form of pow­er can­not be exer­cised with­out know­ing the inside of people’s minds, with­out explor­ing their souls, with­out mak­ing them reveal their inner­most secrets. It implies a knowl­edge of the con­science and an abil­i­ty to direct it.

In the last years of Foucault’s life, he shift­ed his focus from insti­tu­tion­al dis­cours­es and mechanisms—psychiatric, carcer­al, medical—to dis­ci­pli­nary prac­tices of self-con­trol and the gov­ern­ing of oth­ers by “pas­toral” means. Rather than ignor­ing indi­vid­u­al­i­ty, the mod­ern state, he writes, devel­oped “as a very sophis­ti­cat­ed struc­ture, in which indi­vid­u­als can be inte­grat­ed, under one con­di­tion: that this indi­vid­u­al­i­ty would be shaped in a new form and sub­mit­ted to a set of very spe­cif­ic pat­terns.” While writ­ing his mon­u­men­tal His­to­ry of Sex­u­al­i­ty, he gave a series of lec­tures at Berke­ley that explore the mod­ern polic­ing of the self.

In his lec­tures on “Truth and Sub­jec­tiv­i­ty” (1980), Fou­cault looks at forms of inter­ro­ga­tion and var­i­ous “truth ther­a­pies” that func­tion as sub­tle forms of coer­cion. Fou­cault returned to Berke­ley in 1983 and deliv­ered the lec­ture “Dis­course and Truth,” which explores the con­cept of par­rhe­sia, the Greek term mean­ing “free speech,” or as he calls it, “truth-telling as an activ­i­ty.” Through analy­sis of the tragedies of Euripi­des and con­tem­po­rary demo­c­ra­t­ic crises, he reveals the prac­tice of speak­ing truth to pow­er as a kind of tight­ly con­trolled per­for­mance. Final­ly, in his lec­ture series “The Cul­ture of the Self,” Fou­cault dis­cuss­es ancient and mod­ern prac­tices of “self care” or “the care of the self” as tech­nolo­gies designed to pro­duce cer­tain kinds of tight­ly bound­ed sub­jec­tiv­i­ties.

You can hear parts of these lec­tures above or vis­it our posts with full audio above. Also, over at Ubuweb, down­load the lec­tures as mp3s, and hear sev­er­al ear­li­er talks from Fou­cault in French, dat­ing all the way back to 1961.

When he began his final series of talks in 1980, the philoso­pher was asked in an inter­view with the Dai­ly Cal­i­forn­ian about the moti­va­tions for his crit­i­cal exam­i­na­tions of pow­er and sub­jec­tiv­i­ty. His reply speaks to both his prac­ti­cal con­cern for resis­tance and his almost utopi­an belief in the lim­it­less poten­tial for human free­dom. “No aspect of real­i­ty should be allowed to become a defin­i­tive and inhu­man law for us,” Fou­cault says.

We have to rise up against all forms of power—but not just pow­er in the nar­row sense of the word, refer­ring to the pow­er of a gov­ern­ment or of one social group over anoth­er: these are only a few par­tic­u­lar instances of pow­er.

Pow­er is any­thing that tends to ren­der immo­bile and untouch­able those things that are offered to us as real, as true, as good.

Read Foucault’s state­ment of intent, his essay “The Sub­ject and Pow­er,” and learn more about his life and work in the 1993 doc­u­men­tary below.

Fou­cault’s lec­ture series will be added to our col­lec­tion, 1,700 Free Online Cours­es from Top Uni­ver­si­ties.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch a “Lost Inter­view” With Michel Fou­cault: Miss­ing for 30 Years But Now Recov­ered

Michel Fou­cault and Alain Badiou Dis­cuss “Phi­los­o­phy and Psy­chol­o­gy” on French TV (1965)

Clash of the Titans: Noam Chom­sky & Michel Fou­cault Debate Human Nature & Pow­er on Dutch TV, 1971

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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Artificial Intelligence May Have Cracked the Code of the Voynich Manuscript: Has Modern Technology Finally Solved a Medieval Mystery?

What is it about the Voyn­ich Man­u­script—that cryp­tic, illus­trat­ed 15th cen­tu­ry text of unknown ori­gin and meaning—that has so fas­ci­nat­ed and obsessed schol­ars for cen­turies? Writ­ten in what appears to be an invent­ed lan­guage, with bizarre illus­tra­tions of oth­er­world­ly botany, mys­te­ri­ous cos­mol­o­gy, and strange anato­my, the book resem­bles oth­er pro­to-sci­en­tif­ic texts of the time, except for the fact that it is total­ly inde­ci­pher­able, “a cer­tain rid­dle of the Sphinx,” as one alchemist described it. The 240-page enig­ma inspires attempt after attempt by cryp­tol­o­gists, lin­guists, and his­to­ri­ans eager to under­stand its secrets—that is if it doesn’t turn out to be a too-clever Medieval joke.

One recent try, by Nicholas Gibbs, has per­haps not lived up to the hype. Anoth­er recent attempt by Stephen Bax, who wrote the short TED Ed les­son above, has also come in for its share of crit­i­cism. Giv­en the invest­ment of schol­ars since the 17th cen­tu­ry in crack­ing the Voyn­ich code, both of these efforts might jus­ti­fi­ably be called quite opti­mistic. The Voyn­ich may for­ev­er elude human under­stand­ing, though it was, pre­sum­ably, cre­at­ed by human hands. Per­haps it will take a machine to final­ly solve the puz­zle, an arti­fi­cial brain that can process more data than the com­bined efforts of every schol­ar who has ever applied their tal­ents to the text. Com­put­er sci­en­tists at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Alber­ta think so and claim to have cracked the Voyn­ich code with arti­fi­cial intel­li­gence (AI).

Com­put­er sci­ence pro­fes­sor Greg Kon­drak and grad­u­ate stu­dent Bradley Hauer began their project by feed­ing a com­put­er pro­gram 400 dif­fer­ent lan­guages, tak­en from the “Uni­ver­sal Dec­la­ra­tion of Human Rights.” While “they ini­tial­ly hypoth­e­sized that the Voyn­ich man­u­script was writ­ten in [ancient] Ara­bic,” reports Jen­nifer Pas­coe, “it turned out that the most like­ly lan­guage was [ancient] Hebrew.” (Pre­vi­ous guess­es, the CBC notes, “have ranged from a type of Latin to a deriva­tion of Sino-Tibetan.”) The next step involved deci­pher­ing the manuscript’s code. Kon­drak and Hauer dis­cov­ered that “the let­ters in each word… had been reordered. Vow­els had been dropped.” The the­o­ry seemed promis­ing, but the pair were unable to find any Hebrew schol­ars who would look at their find­ings.

With­out human exper­tise to guide them, they turned to anoth­er AI, whose results, we know, can be noto­ri­ous­ly unre­li­able. Nonethe­less, feed­ing the first sen­tence into Google trans­late yield­ed the fol­low­ing: “She made rec­om­men­da­tions to the priest, man of the house and me and peo­ple.” It’s at least gram­mat­i­cal, though Kon­drak admits “it’s a kind of strange sen­tence to start a man­u­script.” Oth­er analy­ses of the first sec­tion have turned up sev­er­al oth­er words, such as “farmer,” “light,” “air,” and “fire”—indeed the sci­en­tists have found 80 per­cent of the man­u­scrip­t’s words in ancient Hebrew dic­tio­nar­ies. Fig­ur­ing out how they fit togeth­er in a com­pre­hen­si­ble syn­tax has proven much more dif­fi­cult. Kon­drak and Hauer admit these results are ten­ta­tive, and may be wrong. With­out cor­rob­o­ra­tion from Hebrew experts, they are also unlike­ly to be tak­en very seri­ous­ly by the schol­ar­ly com­mu­ni­ty.

But the pri­ma­ry goal was not to trans­late the Voyn­ich but to use it as a means of cre­at­ing algo­rithms that could deci­pher ancient lan­guages. “Impor­tant­ly,” notes Giz­mo­do, “the researchers aren’t say­ing they’ve deci­phered the entire Voyn­ich man­u­script,” far from it. But they might have dis­cov­ered the keys that oth­ers may use to do so. Or they may—as have so many others—have been led down anoth­er blind alley, as one com­menter at IFL Sci­ence sug­gests, sar­cas­ti­cal­ly quot­ing the wise Bull­win­kle Moose: “This time for sure!”

You can find the Voyn­ich Man­u­script scanned at Yale’s Bei­necke Rare Book & Man­u­script Library. Copies can be pur­chased in book for­mat as well.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

An Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion to “the World’s Most Mys­te­ri­ous Book,” the 15th-Cen­tu­ry Voyn­ich Man­u­script

Behold the Mys­te­ri­ous Voyn­ich Man­u­script: The 15th-Cen­tu­ry Text That Lin­guists & Code-Break­ers Can’t Under­stand

1,000-Year-Old Illus­trat­ed Guide to the Med­i­c­i­nal Use of Plants Now Dig­i­tized & Put Online

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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MIT’s New Master’s Program Admits Students Without College and High School Degrees … and Helps Solve the World’s Most Pressing Problems


One of the cen­tral prob­lems of inequal­i­ty is that it per­pet­u­ates itself by nature. The inher­ent social cap­i­tal of those born in cer­tain places and class­es grants access to even more social cap­i­tal. Ques­tions of mer­it can seem mar­gin­al when the cre­den­tials required by elite insti­tu­tions prove inac­ces­si­ble to most peo­ple. In an admirable effort to break this cycle glob­al­ly, MIT is now admit­ting stu­dents to a grad­u­ate pro­gram in eco­nom­ics, with­out GRE scores, with­out let­ters of rec­om­men­da­tion, and with­out a col­lege degree.

Instead stu­dents begin with some­thing called a “Micro­Mas­ters” pro­gram, which is like “a method used in med­i­cine… ran­dom­ized con­trol tri­als,” reports WBUR. This entry­way removes many of the usu­al bar­ri­ers to access by allow­ing stu­dents to first “take rig­or­ous cours­es online for cred­it, and if they per­form well on exams, to apply for a master’s degree pro­gram on campus”—a degree in data, eco­nom­ics and devel­op­ment pol­i­cy (DEDP), which focus­es on meth­ods for reduc­ing glob­al inequal­i­ty.

 

 

Enroll­ment in the online Micro­Mas­ters cours­es began in Feb­ru­ary of last year (the next round starts on Feb­ru­ary 6, 2018), and the DEDP mas­ter’s pro­gram will start in 2019. “The world of devel­op­ment pol­i­cy has become more and more evi­dence-based over the past 10–15 years,” explains MIT pro­fes­sor of eco­nom­ics Ben Olken, who co-cre­at­ed the pro­gram with eco­nom­ics pro­fes­sors Esther Duflo and Abhi­jit Baner­jee. “Devel­op­ment prac­ti­tion­ers need to under­stand not just devel­op­ment issues, but how to ana­lyze them rig­or­ous­ly using data. This pro­gram is designed to help fill that gap.”

Duflo, co-founder of MIT’s Abdul Latif Jameel Pover­ty Action Lab (J‑PAL), explains the inno­va­tion of Micro­Mas­ters’ rad­i­cal­ly open admis­sions. (For any­one with access to the inter­net, that is, still a huge bar­ri­er for mil­lions world­wide): “Any­body could do that. At this point, you don’t need to have gone to col­lege. For that mat­ter, you don’t need to have gone to high school.” Stu­dents who are accept­ed after their ini­tial online course work will move into a “blend­ed” pro­gram that com­bines their pri­or work with a semes­ter on MIT’s cam­pus.

Micro­Mas­ters cours­es are priced on a slid­ing scale (from $100 to $1,000), accord­ing to what stu­dents can afford, and costs are nowhere near what tra­di­tion­al stu­dents pay—after hav­ing already paid, or tak­en loans, for a four-year degree, var­i­ous test­ing reg­i­mens, admis­sions costs, liv­ing expens­es, etc. The cur­rent pro­gram might fea­si­bly be scaled up to include oth­er fields in the future. Thus far, over 8,000 stu­dents in the world have enrolled in the Micro­Mas­ters pro­gram. “In total,” Duflo says, “there are 182 coun­tries rep­re­sent­ed,” includ­ing ten per­cent from Chi­na, a large group from India, and “even some from the U.S.”

Stu­dents enrolled in these cours­es design their own eval­u­a­tions of ini­tia­tives around the globe that address dis­par­i­ties in health­care, edu­ca­tion, and oth­er areas. Co-designed by the Pover­ty Action Lab and the Depart­ment of Eco­nom­ics, Micro­Mas­ters asks stu­dents to “grap­ple with some of the world’s most press­ing prob­lems,” includ­ing the prob­lem of access to high­er edu­ca­tion. You can view the require­ments and enroll at the MITx Micro­Mas­ters’ site. Read fre­quent­ly asked ques­tions and learn about the instruc­tors here. And here, lis­ten to WBUR’s short seg­ment on this fas­ci­nat­ing edu­ca­tion­al exper­i­ment.

Find more Micro­Mas­ters sub­jects in our col­lec­tion: Online Degrees & Mini Degrees: Explore Mas­ters, Mini Mas­ters, Bach­e­lors & Mini Bach­e­lors from Top Uni­ver­si­ties

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence: A Free Online Course from MIT

MIT Is Dig­i­tiz­ing a Huge Archive of Noam Chomsky’s Lec­tures, Papers and Oth­er Doc­u­ments & Will Put Them Online

Intro­duc­tion to Com­put­er Sci­ence and Pro­gram­ming: A Free Course from MIT 

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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Read the Shortest Academic Article Ever Written: “The Unsuccessful Self-Treatment of a Case of ‘Writer’s Block’ ”

We’ve fea­tured impres­sive­ly short aca­d­e­m­ic papers here on Open Cul­ture before, like John Nash’s 26-page PhD the­sis and this two-sen­tence “Coun­terex­am­ple to Euler’s Con­jec­ture on Sums and Like Pow­ers,” but if you’ve set your sights on writ­ing one short­er still, don’t get your hopes up. The almost cer­tain­ly unbeat­able exam­ple of a short aca­d­e­m­ic paper appeared more than forty years ago, in the fall 1974 issue of the Jour­nal of Applied Behav­ior Analy­ses, its main text com­ing in at exact­ly zero words. You can read it, if indeed “read” is the word, above or at the Nation­al Cen­ter for Biotech­nol­o­gy Infor­ma­tion.

Writ­ten, or at least thought up, by psy­chol­o­gist Den­nis Upper, “The Unsuc­cess­ful Self-Treat­ment of a Case of ‘Writer’s Block’ ” has noth­ing but its title, one foot­note (indi­cat­ing that “por­tions of this paper were not pre­sent­ed at the 81st annu­al Amer­i­can Psy­cho­log­i­cal Asso­ci­a­tion Con­ven­tion”), and the ful­some com­ments of a review­er: “I have stud­ied this man­u­script very care­ful­ly with lemon juice and X‑rays and have not detect­ed a sin­gle flaw in either design or writ­ing style. I sug­gest it be pub­lished with­out revi­sion. Clear­ly it is the most con­cise man­u­script I have ever seen — yet it con­tains suf­fi­cient detail to allow oth­er inves­ti­ga­tors to repli­cate Dr. Upper’s fail­ure. In com­par­i­son with the oth­er man­u­scripts I get from you con­tain­ing all that com­pli­cat­ed detail, this one was a plea­sure to exam­ine.”

Some describe writer’s block, whether in sci­ence or lit­er­a­ture or any oth­er field requir­ing the prop­er arrange­ment of words, as a fear of the blank page. If look­ing at Upper’s void-like paper fright­ens you, con­sid­er hav­ing a look at the Louisiana Chan­nel series we fea­tured in 2016 where­in writ­ers like Mar­garet Atwood, Jonathan Franzen, Joyce Car­ol Oates, and David Mitchell talk about how they deal with the blank page them­selves. Atwood finds that it “beck­ons you in to write some­thing on it,” that “it must be filled,” but if you don’t hear the same call, you’ll have to come up with an approach of your own. Just don’t try titling, foot­not­ing, and turn­ing in the emp­ty sheet — it’s been done.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

8 Writ­ers on How to Face Writer’s Block and the Blank Page: Mar­garet Atwood, Jonathan Franzen, Joyce Car­ol Oates & More

The Short­est-Known Paper Pub­lished in a Seri­ous Math Jour­nal: Two Suc­cinct Sen­tences 

Read John Nash’s Super Short PhD The­sis with 26 Pages & 2 Cita­tions: The Beau­ty of Invent­ing a Field

When a Cat Co-Authored a Paper in a Lead­ing Physics Jour­nal (1975)

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

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Watch “Bells of Atlantis,” an Experimental Film with Early Electronic Music Featuring Anaïs Nin (1952)

For decades, out­side of fem­i­nist schol­ar­ship and read­er­ships, French-Cuban-Amer­i­can diarist, nov­el­ist, and essay­ist Anaïs Nin was pri­mar­i­ly known through her famous friends—most notably the exper­i­men­tal nov­el­ist Hen­ry Miller, but also psy­cho­an­a­lyst Otto Rank. She had affairs with both men, and inspired some of their work, but Nin has always deserved much wider appre­ci­a­tion as an artist in her own right, whose sur­re­al­ist explo­rations of sex­u­al­i­ty, and sex­u­al abuse, and posthu­mous col­lec­tions of erot­i­ca rival Miller’s body of work—and for many read­ers far sur­pass his tal­ents.

Now Nin’s expres­sive face and orac­u­lar quo­ta­tions have tak­en over the Tum­blr-sphere, such that she has been called the “patron saint of social media” and com­pared to Lena Dun­ham. Whether one finds these terms flat­ter­ing or not comes down to mat­ters of taste and, prob­a­bly even more so, of age. But those who wish for a short intro­duc­tion to Nin out­side of the world of memes and macros will sure­ly take an inter­est in the 1952 film above, “Bells of Atlantis,” shot and edit­ed by her then-hus­band Ian Hugo (also known as banker High Guil­er), with Nin in the star­ring role as the queen of Atlantis. Coil­house offers this suc­cinct descrip­tion:

Over cas­cad­ing exper­i­men­tal footage, Nin reads aloud from her novel­la House of Incest. We catch glimpses of her nude form swing­ing in a ham­mock, and we see her shad­ow undu­lat­ing over sheer fab­ric blow­ing in the wind, but for the most part, the imagery, cap­tured by Nin’s hus­band Ian Hugo, remains very abstract.

But it is not only the rare, hazy glimpses of Nin and the snip­pets of her read­ing that should draw our atten­tion, but also the bur­bling, whistling, hyp­not­ic elec­tron­ic score, com­posed and cre­at­ed by the hus­band-and-wife-hob­by­ist team of Louis and Bebe Bar­ron. Over a decade before Delia Der­byshire wowed audi­ences with her Dr. Who theme, the Bar­rons were mak­ing unheard-of exper­i­men­tal sounds using the tech­nol­o­gy avail­able at the time—tape machines, oscil­la­tors, micro­phones, and oth­er such low-tech ana­log devices.

“The Bar­rons were true pio­neers of elec­tron­ic music,” writes Messy Nessy, “and one of the crown jew­els of their audi­to­ry col­lec­tion is the sound­track for the 1956 thriller sci-fi film, For­bid­den Plan­et,” the first major motion pic­ture with an all-elec­tron­ic score. “Bells of Atlantis” breaks ground as an even ear­li­er exam­ple of the form, and its hal­lu­ci­na­to­ry visu­al jour­ney recalls the sur­re­al­ist film­mak­ing of decades past and looks for­ward to the psy­che­del­ic 60s.

Both the sounds the Bar­rons pro­duced and the visions of Hugo turn out to be, in my hum­ble opin­ion, the per­fect set­ting for a brief intro­duc­tion to Nin’s voice. After watch­ing “Bells of Atlantis,” put on some more ear­ly elec­tron­i­ca, and read Nin’s 1947 House of Incest for your­self, a hal­lu­ci­na­to­ry prose-poem about, in Nin’s descrip­tion, the “escape from a woman’s sea­son in hell.”

via Messy Nessy/Coil­house

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hear Anaïs Nin Read From Her Cel­e­brat­ed Diary: A 60-Minute Vin­tage Record­ing (1966)

Hen­ry Miller Makes a List of “The 100 Books That Influ­enced Me Most”

Meet Delia Der­byshire, the Dr. Who Com­pos­er Who Almost Turned The Bea­t­les’ “Yes­ter­day” Into Ear­ly Elec­tron­i­ca

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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Massive New Database Will Finally Allow Us to Identify Enslaved Peoples and Their Descendants in the Americas

Through­out the his­to­ry of the so-called “New World,” peo­ple of African descent have faced a yawn­ing chasm where their ances­try should be. Peo­ple bought and sold to labor on plan­ta­tions lost not only their names but their con­nec­tions to their lan­guage, tra­di­tion, and cul­ture. Very few who descend from this painful lega­cy know exact­ly where their ances­tors came from. The sit­u­a­tion con­tributes to what Toni Mor­ri­son calls the “dehis­tori­ciz­ing alle­go­ry” of race, a con­di­tion of “fore­clo­sure rather than dis­clo­sure.” To com­pound the loss, most descen­dants of slaves have been unable to trace their ances­try fur­ther back than 1870, the first year in which the Cen­sus list­ed African Amer­i­cans by name.

But the recent work of sev­er­al enter­pris­ing schol­ars is help­ing to dis­close the his­to­ries of enslaved peo­ple in the Amer­i­c­as. For exam­ple, The Freedman’s Bureau Project has made 1.5 mil­lion doc­u­ments avail­able to the pub­lic, in a search­able data­base that com­bines tra­di­tion­al schol­ar­ship with dig­i­tal crowd­sourc­ing.

And now, a just-announced Michi­gan State Uni­ver­si­ty project—sup­port­ed by a $1.5 mil­lion grant from the Mel­lon Foundation—will seek to “change the way schol­ars and the pub­lic under­stand African slav­ery.” Called “Enslaved: The Peo­ple of the His­toric Slave Trade,” the mul­ti-phase endeav­or is expect­ed to take 18 months to com­plete an “online hub,” reports Smith­son­ian, link­ing togeth­er dozens of data­bas­es from all over the world.

“By link­ing data col­lec­tions from mul­ti­ple uni­ver­si­ties,” writes MSU Today, the result­ing web­site “will allow peo­ple to search mil­lions of pieces of slave data to iden­ti­fy enslaved indi­vid­u­als and their descen­dants from a cen­tral source. Users can also run analy­ses of enslaved pop­u­la­tions and cre­ate maps, charts and graph­ics.” The project is head­ed by MSU’s Dean Rehberg­er, direc­tor of Matrix: The Cen­ter for Dig­i­tal Human­i­ties and Social Sci­ences at MSU; Ethan Watrall, assis­tant pro­fes­sor of anthro­pol­o­gy; and Wal­ter Hawthorne, pro­fes­sor and chair of MSU’s his­to­ry depart­ment and a spe­cial­ist in African and African Amer­i­can his­to­ry.

In addi­tion to pub­lish­ing sev­er­al books on the Atlantic slave trade, Hawthorne has worked on pre­vi­ous dig­i­tal his­to­ry projects like the web­site Slave Biogra­phies, which com­piles infor­ma­tion on the “names, eth­nic­i­ties, skills, occu­pa­tions, and ill­ness­es” of enslaved indi­vid­u­als in Maran­hão, Brazil and colo­nial Louisiana. In the video above, you can see him describe this lat­est project, which coin­cides with MSU’s “Year of Glob­al Africa,” an 18-month cel­e­bra­tion of the university’s many part­ner­ships on the con­ti­nent and “through­out the African Dias­po­ra.”

Dig­i­tal his­to­ry projects like those spear­head­ed by Hawthorne and oth­er researchers help not only schol­ars but also the gen­er­al pub­lic devel­op a much more nuanced under­stand­ing of the his­to­ry of slav­ery. These tools pro­vide a wealth of infor­ma­tion, but they can­not tru­ly cap­ture the emo­tion­al and psy­cho­log­i­cal impact of the his­to­ry. For such an under­stand­ing, Mor­ri­son said in the first of her 2016 Har­vard Nor­ton lec­tures, “I look to lit­er­a­ture for guid­ance.”

via Smith­son­ian Mag­a­zine

Relat­ed Con­tent:

African-Amer­i­can His­to­ry: Mod­ern Free­dom Strug­gle (A Free Course from Stan­ford)

1.5 Mil­lion Slav­ery Era Doc­u­ments Will Be Dig­i­tized, Help­ing African Amer­i­cans to Learn About Their Lost Ances­tors

The Anti-Slav­ery Alpha­bet: 1846 Book Teach­es Kids the ABCs of Slavery’s Evils

Albert Ein­stein Explains How Slav­ery Has Crip­pled Everyone’s Abil­i­ty (Even Aristotle’s) to Think Clear­ly About Racism

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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How a Virtual Reality Model of Auschwitz Helped Convict an SS Concentration Camp Guard: A Short Documentary on a High Tech Prosecution

In 2016, Rein­hold Han­ning, a for­mer SS guard at the Auschwitz con­cen­tra­tion camp, was tried and con­vict­ed for being an acces­so­ry to at least 170,000 deaths. In mak­ing their case, pros­e­cu­tors did some­thing novel–they relied on a vir­tu­al real­i­ty ver­sion of the Auschwitz con­cen­tra­tion camp, which helped under­mine Han­ning’s claim that he was­n’t aware of what hap­pened inside the camp. The vir­tu­al real­i­ty head­set let view­ers see the camp from almost any angle, and estab­lished that “Han­ning would have seen the atroc­i­ties tak­ing place all around him.”

The high-tech pros­e­cu­tion of Han­ning gets well doc­u­ment­ed in “Nazi VR,” the short doc­u­men­tary above. It comes from MEL Films, and will be added to our col­lec­tion of online doc­u­men­taries.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Auschwitz Cap­tured in Haunt­ing Drone Footage (and a New Short Film by Steven Spiel­berg & Meryl Streep)

Carl Jung Psy­cho­an­a­lyzes Hitler: “He’s the Uncon­scious of 78 Mil­lion Ger­mans.” “With­out the Ger­man Peo­ple He’d Be Noth­ing” (1938)

From Cali­gari to Hitler: A Look at How Cin­e­ma Laid the Foun­da­tion for Tyran­ny in Weimar Ger­many

Watch World War II Rage Across Europe in a 7 Minute Time-Lapse Film: Every Day From 1939 to 1945

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Smartify, a Shazam for Art, Lets You Use Your Phone to Scan, Identify & Learn About Major Works of Art

Not so long ago, art muse­ums were known as tem­ples of qui­et con­tem­pla­tion, despite dai­ly inva­sions by rau­cous school groups.

Now, the onus is on the muse­ums to bring the moun­tain to Mohammed. Those kids have smart­phones. How long can a muse­um hope to stay relevant—nay, survive—without an app?

Many of the muse­ums who’ve already part­nered up with Smar­ti­fy—an app (Mac-Android) that lets you take a pic­ture of art­work with your phone and instant­ly access infor­ma­tion about them—have exist­ing apps of their own in place: the Met­ro­pol­i­tan Muse­um of Art in New York, the Her­mitage in St. Peters­burg, Amsterdam’s Rijksmu­se­um, to name a few.

These insti­tu­tion­al apps pro­vide vis­i­tors with an expand­ed view of the sort of infor­ma­tion one com­mon­ly finds on a muse­um card, in addi­tion to such prac­ti­cal­i­ties as gallery lay­outs and cal­en­dars of events. More often than not, there’s an option to “save” an art­work the vis­i­tor finds captivating—no word on what this fea­ture is doing to post­card sales in muse­um shops, so per­haps print isn’t dead yet.

Giv­en all the muse­um apps free for the down­load­ing, for whom is Smar­ti­fy, a “Shaz­am for art,” intend­ed?

Per­haps the glo­be­trot­ting muse­um hop­per eager to con­sol­i­date? Its devel­op­ers are adamant that it’s intend­ed to com­ple­ment, not replace, in-per­son vis­its to the insti­tu­tions where the works are housed, so arm­chair muse­um goers are advised to look else­where, like Google Arts & Cul­ture.

Per­haps the biggest ben­e­fi­cia­ries will be the small­er gal­leries and muse­ums ill equipped to launch free­stand­ing apps of their own. Smartify’s web­site states that it relies on “annu­al mem­ber­ship from muse­um part­ners, in-app trans­ac­tions, adver­tis­ing and data sales to rel­e­vant arts organ­i­sa­tions.”

Ear­ly adopters com­plained that while the app (Mac-Android) had no trou­ble iden­ti­fy­ing famous works of art, it came up emp­ty on the less­er-known pieces. That’s a pity as these are the works vis­i­tors are most like­ly to seek fur­ther infor­ma­tion on.

One of the devel­op­ers com­pared the Smar­ti­fy expe­ri­ence to vis­it­ing a muse­um in the com­pa­ny of “an enthu­si­as­tic and knowl­edge­able friend telling you more about a work of art.”

Maybe bet­ter to do just that, if the option exists? Such a friend would not be ham­pered by the copy­right laws that ham­per Smar­ti­fy with regard to cer­tain works. A friend might even stand you a hot choco­late or some pricey scone in the muse­um cafe.

At any rate, the app (Mac-Android) is now avail­able for vis­i­tors to take for a spin in 22 dif­fer­ent muse­ums and gal­leries in the UK, US, and Europe, with the promise of more to come.

Those whose knowl­edge of art his­to­ry is vast are like­ly to be under­whelmed, but it could be a way for those vis­it­ing with kids and teens to keep every­one engaged for the dura­tion. As one enthu­si­as­tic user wrote:

As a child­hood Poke­mon fan and avid art fan, this is a dream come true. This is like a Pokedex for art lol. If you ever watched the ani­me, Ash Ketchum would scan a Poke­mon with his Pokedex and get the details of its name, type, habits, etc. This app does that but instead of scan­ning mon­sters, it scans and ana­lyzes art work then gives you the load (sic) down about it.

Those with Inter­net pri­va­cy con­cerns may choose to heed, instead, the user who wrote:

Be aware, they want to gath­er as a “side effect” your pri­vate art col­lec­tion. I just want­ed to try it out with some of my art pieces (Gün­ther Förg, Richter, etc) but it does­n’t work if you don’t give them your loca­tion data. Be care­ful!

 

Muse­ums and Gal­leries Whose Images/Art Appear in Smar­ti­fy as of Jan­u­ary 2018

USA:

J. Paul Get­ty Muse­um

Los Ange­les Coun­ty Muse­um of Art (LACMA)

Lagu­na Art Muse­um

Muse­um of Con­tem­po­rary Pho­tog­ra­phy

Freer | Sack­ler Gal­leri­es­The Met­ro­pol­i­tan Muse­um of Art

The Met Clois­ters

 

UK:

The Bowes Muse­um

Mid­dles­brough Insti­tute of Mod­ern Art

Ben Uri Gallery

The Wal­lace Col­lec­tion

Roy­al Acad­e­my of Arts

Nation­al Gallery

Sculp­ture in the City

 

Europe:

Rijksmu­se­um

Rijksmu­se­um Twen­the

Lit­tle Beaux-Arts

Museo Cor­rer

Museo San Dona­to (MPSArt)

The State Her­mitage Muse­um

The Pushkin Muse­um of Fine Arts

 

Down­load Smar­ti­fy for Mac or Android.

via Dezeen

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Google’s Free App Ana­lyzes Your Self­ie and Then Finds Your Dop­pel­ganger in Muse­um Por­traits

1.8 Mil­lion Free Works of Art from World-Class Muse­ums: A Meta List of Great Art Avail­able Online

Where to Find Free Art Images & Books from Great Muse­ums, and Free Books from Uni­ver­si­ty Press­es

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

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A Brief History of Making Deals with the Devil: Niccolò Paganini, Robert Johnson, Jimmy Page & More

When the term “witch hunt” gets thrown around in cas­es of pow­er­ful men accused of harass­ment and abuse, his­to­ri­ans every­where bang their heads against their desks. The his­to­ry of per­se­cut­ing witches—as every school­boy and girl knows from the famous Salem Trials—involves accu­sa­tions mov­ing decid­ed­ly in the oth­er direc­tion.

But we’re very famil­iar with men sup­pos­ed­ly sell­ing out to Satan, dealing—or just dueling—with the dev­il. They weren’t called witch­es for doing so, or burned at the stake. They were blues pio­neers, vir­tu­oso fid­dlers, and gui­tar gods. From the dev­il­ish­ly dash­ing Nic­colò Pagani­ni, to Robert John­son at the Cross­roads, to Jim­my Page’s black mag­ic, to “The Dev­il Went Down to Geor­gia,” to the omnipres­ence of Satan in met­al…. The dev­il “seems to have quite the inter­est in music,” notes the Poly­phon­ic video above.

Before musi­cians came to terms with the dark lord, pow­er-hun­gry schol­ars used demonolo­gy to sum­mon Lucifer­ian emis­saries like Mephistophe­les. The leg­end of Faust dates back to the late 16th cen­tu­ry and a his­tor­i­cal alchemist named Johann Georg Faust, who inspired many dra­mat­ic works, like Christo­pher Marlowe’s The Trag­i­cal His­to­ry of Doc­tor Faus­tus, Johann Goethe’s Faust, Thomas Mann’s Doc­tor Faus­tus, Mikhail Bugakov’s The Mas­ter and Mar­gari­ta, and F.W. Murnau’s 1926 silent film.

The Faust leg­end may be the stur­di­est of such sto­ries, but it is not by any means the ori­gin of the idea. Medieval Catholic saints feared the dev­il’s entice­ments con­stant­ly. Medieval occultists often saw things dif­fer­ent­ly. If we can trace the notion of women con­sort­ing with the dev­il to the Bib­li­cal Eve in the Gar­den, we find male ana­logues in the New Testament—Christ’s temp­ta­tions in the desert, Judas’s thir­ty pieces of sil­ver, the pos­sessed vagrant who sends his demons into a herd of pigs. But we might even say that God made the first deal with the dev­il, in the open­ing wager of the book of Job.

In most examples—Charlie Daniels’ tri­umphal folk tale aside—the deal usu­al­ly goes down bad­ly for the mor­tal par­ty involved, as it did for Robert John­son when the dev­il came for his due, and con­vened the mor­bid­ly fas­ci­nat­ing 27 Club. Goethe impos­es a redemp­tive hap­py end­ing onto Faust that seems to wild­ly over­com­pen­sate for the typ­i­cal fate of souls in hell’s pawn shop. Kierkegaard took the idea seri­ous­ly as a cul­tur­al myth, and wrote in Either/Or that “every notable his­tor­i­cal era will have its own Faust.”

Mod­ern-day Fausts in the pop­u­lar genre of the day, the con­spir­a­cy the­o­ry, are famous enter­tain­ers, as you can see in the unin­ten­tion­al­ly humor­ous super­cut above from a YouTube chan­nel called “End­TimeChris­t­ian.” As it hap­pens in these kinds of nar­ra­tives, the cul­tur­al trope gets tak­en far too lit­er­al­ly as a real event. The Faust leg­end shows us that mak­ing deals with the dev­il has been a lit­er­ary device for hun­dreds of years, pass­ing into pop­u­lar cul­ture, then the blues—a genre haunt­ed by hell hounds and infer­nal crossroads—and its prog­e­ny in rock and roll and hip hop.

Those who talk of sell­ing their souls might real­ly believe it, but they inher­it­ed the lan­guage from cen­turies of West­ern cul­tur­al and reli­gious tra­di­tion. Sell­ing one’s soul is a com­mon metaphor for liv­ing a car­nal life, or get­ting into bed with shady char­ac­ters for world­ly suc­cess. But it’s also a play­ful notion. (A mis­un­der­stood aspect of so much met­al is its com­ic Satan­ic overkill.) John­son him­self turned the sto­ry of sell­ing his soul into an icon­ic boast, in “Cross­roads” and “Me and the Dev­il Blues.” “Hel­lo Satan,” he says in the lat­ter tune, “I believe it’s time to go.”

Chill­ing in hind­sight, the line is the bluesman’s grim­ly casu­al acknowl­edg­ment of how life on the edge would catch up to him. But it was worth it, he also sug­gests, to become a leg­end in his own time. In the short, ani­mat­ed video above from Music Mat­ters, John­son meets the horned one, a slick oper­a­tor in a suit: “Sud­den­ly, no one could touch him.” Often when we talk these days about peo­ple sell­ing their souls, they might even­tu­al­ly end up singing, but they don’t make beau­ti­ful music. In any case, the moral of almost every ver­sion of the sto­ry is per­fect­ly clear: no mat­ter how good the deal seems, the dev­il nev­er fails to col­lect on a debt.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Sto­ry of Blues­man Robert Johnson’s Famous Deal With the Dev­il Retold in Three Ani­ma­tions

Watch Häx­an, the Clas­sic Cin­e­mat­ic Study of Witch­craft Nar­rat­ed by William S. Bur­roughs (1922)

Aleis­ter Crow­ley: The Wickedest Man in the World Doc­u­ments the Life of the Bizarre Occultist, Poet & Moun­taineer

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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How Reading Increases Your Emotional Intelligence & Brain Function: The Findings of Recent Scientific Studies

Image by Sheila Sund, via Flickr Com­mons

Read­ing “availeth much,” to bor­row an old phrase from the King James Bible. To read is to expe­ri­ence more of the world than we can in per­son, to enter into the lives of oth­ers, to orga­nize knowl­edge accord­ing to use­ful schemes and cat­e­gories…. Or, at least it can be. Much recent research strong­ly sug­gests that read­ing improves emo­tion­al and cog­ni­tive intel­li­gence, by chang­ing and acti­vat­ing areas of the brain respon­si­ble for these qual­i­ties.

Is read­ing essen­tial for the sur­vival of the species? Per­haps not. “Humans have been read­ing and writ­ing for only about 5000 years—too short for major evo­lu­tion­ary changes,” writes Greg Miller in Sci­ence. We got by well enough for tens of thou­sands of years before writ­ten lan­guage. But neu­ro­sci­en­tists the­o­rize that read­ing “rewires” areas of the brain respon­si­ble for both vision and spo­ken lan­guage. Even adults who learn to read late in life can expe­ri­ence these effects, increas­ing “func­tion­al con­nec­tiv­i­ty with the visu­al cor­tex,” some researchers have found, which may be “the brain’s way of fil­ter­ing and fine-tun­ing the flood of visu­al infor­ma­tion that calls for our atten­tion” in the mod­ern world.

This improved com­mu­ni­ca­tion between areas of the brain might also rep­re­sent an impor­tant inter­ven­tion into devel­op­men­tal dis­or­ders. One Carnegie Mel­lon study, for exam­ple, found that “100 hours of inten­sive read­ing instruc­tion improved chil­dren’s read­ing skills and also increased the qual­i­ty of… com­pro­mised white mat­ter to nor­mal lev­els.” The find­ings, says Thomas Insel, direc­tor of the Nation­al Insti­tute of Men­tal Health, sug­gest “an excit­ing approach to be test­ed in the treat­ment of men­tal dis­or­ders, which increas­ing­ly appear to be due to prob­lems in spe­cif­ic brain cir­cuits.”

Read­ing can not only improve cog­ni­tion, but it can also lead to a refined “the­o­ry of mind,” a term used by cog­ni­tive sci­en­tists to describe how “we ascribe men­tal states to oth­er persons”—as the Inter­net Ency­clo­pe­dia of Phi­los­o­phy notes—and “how we use the states to explain and pre­dict the actions of those oth­er per­sons.” Improved the­o­ry of mind, or “intu­itive psy­chol­o­gy,” as it’s also called, can result in greater lev­els of empa­thy and per­haps even expand­ed exec­u­tive func­tion, allow­ing us to bet­ter “hold mul­ti­ple per­spec­tives in mind at once,” writes Brit­tany Thomp­son, “and switch between those per­spec­tives.”

Improved the­o­ry of mind comes pri­mar­i­ly from read­ing nar­ra­tives, research sug­gests. One meta-analy­sis pub­lished by Ray­mond A. Mar of Toronto’s York Uni­ver­si­ty reviews many of the stud­ies demon­strat­ing the effect of sto­ry com­pre­hen­sion on the­o­ry of mind, and con­cludes that the bet­ter we under­stand the events in a nar­ra­tive, the bet­ter we are able to under­stand the actions and inten­tions of those around us. The kinds of nar­ra­tives we read, more­over, might also make a dif­fer­ence. One study, con­duct­ed by psy­chol­o­gists David Com­er Kidd and Emanuele Cas­tano of the New School for Social Research, test­ed the effect of dif­fer­ences in writ­ing qual­i­ty on empa­thy respons­es, ran­dom­ly assign­ing 1,000 par­tic­i­pants excerpts from both pop­u­lar best­sellers and lit­er­ary fic­tion.

To define the dif­fer­ence between the two, the researchers referred to crit­ic Roland Barthes’ The Plea­sure of the Text. As Kidd explains:

Some writ­ing is what you call ‘writer­ly’, you fill in the gaps and par­tic­i­pate, and some is ‘read­er­ly’, and you’re enter­tained. We tend to see ‘read­er­ly’ more in genre fic­tion like adven­ture, romance and thrillers, where the author dic­tates your expe­ri­ence as a read­er. Lit­er­ary [writer­ly] fic­tion lets you go into a new envi­ron­ment and you have to find your own way.

The researchers used two the­o­ry of mind tests to mea­sure degrees of empa­thy and found that “scores were con­sis­tent­ly high­er for those who had read lit­er­ary fic­tion than for those with pop­u­lar fic­tion or non-fic­tion texts,” notes Liz Bury at The Guardian. Oth­er research has found that descrip­tive lan­guage stim­u­lates regions of our brains not clas­si­cal­ly asso­ci­at­ed with read­ing. “Words like ‘laven­der,’ ‘cin­na­mon’ and ‘soap,’ for exam­ple,” writes Annie Mur­phy Paul at The New York Times, cit­ing a 2006 study pub­lished in Neu­roIm­age, “elic­it a response not only from the lan­guage-pro­cess­ing areas of our brains, but also those devot­ed to deal­ing with smells.”

Read­ing, in oth­er words, can effec­tive­ly sim­u­late real­i­ty in the brain and pro­duce authen­tic emo­tion­al respons­es: “The brain, it seems, does not make much of a dis­tinc­tion between read­ing about an expe­ri­ence and encoun­ter­ing it in real life”—that is, if the expe­ri­ence is writ­ten about in sen­so­ry lan­guage. The emo­tion­al brain also does not seem to make a tremen­dous dis­tinc­tion between read­ing the writ­ten word and hear­ing it recit­ed or read. When study par­tic­i­pants in a joint Ger­man and Nor­we­gian exper­i­ment, for exam­ple, heard poet­ry read aloud, they expe­ri­enced phys­i­cal sen­sa­tions and “about 40 per­cent showed vis­i­ble goose bumps.”

But dif­fer­ent kinds of texts elic­it dif­fer­ent kinds of respons­es. We can read or lis­ten to a nov­el, for exam­ple, and, instead of only expe­ri­enc­ing sen­sa­tions, can “live sev­er­al lives while read­ing,” as William Sty­ron once wrote. The authors of a 2013 Emory Uni­ver­si­ty study pub­lished in Brain Con­nec­tiv­i­ty con­clude that read­ing nov­els can rewire areas of the brain, caus­ing “tran­sient changes in func­tion­al con­nec­tiv­i­ty.” These bio­log­i­cal changes were found to last up to five days after study par­tic­i­pants read Robert Har­ris’ 2003 nov­el Pom­peii. The height­ened con­nec­tiv­i­ty in cer­tain regions “cor­re­spond­ed to regions pre­vi­ous­ly asso­ci­at­ed with per­spec­tive tak­ing and sto­ry com­pre­hen­sion.”

So what? asks a skep­ti­cal Ian Stead­man at New States­man. Read­ing may cre­ate changes in the brain, but so does every­thing else, a phe­nom­e­non well-known by now as “neu­ro­plas­tic­i­ty.” Much of the report­ing on the neu­ro­science of read­ing, Stead­man argues, over­in­ter­prets the research to sup­port an “[x] ‘rewires’ the brain” myth both com­mon and “mis­tak­en.” Steadman’s cri­tiques of the Brain Con­nec­tiv­i­ty study are per­haps well-placed. The small sam­ple size, lack of a con­trol group, and neglect of ques­tions about dif­fer­ent kinds of writ­ing make its already ten­ta­tive con­clu­sions even less impres­sive. How­ev­er, more sub­stan­tive research, tak­en togeth­er, does show that the “rewiring” that hap­pens when we read—though per­haps tem­po­rary and in need of fre­quent refreshing—really does make us more cog­ni­tive­ly and social­ly adept. And that the kind of reading—or even lis­ten­ing—that we do real­ly does mat­ter.

via Big­Think/The Guardian/Har­vard

Relat­ed Con­tent:  

This Is Your Brain on Jane Austen: The Neu­ro­science of Read­ing Great Lit­er­a­ture

900 Free Audio Books: Down­load Great Books for Free 

7 Tips for Read­ing More Books in a Year

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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