Sorry Bookstores, It was True Love while it Lasted

Time waits for no one, as an old song goes.  When I was a kid I used to marvel at talking to adults who told me about growing up without television.  That just boggled my mind.  And my grandmother, who was born in 1881, would tell me about life before the automobile, airplane, radio, Polio vaccine, refrigerator, and indoor plumbing.  I just could not fathom such living.

It never occurred to me then that I would live long to hear young people extol technology they couldn’t live without, or I’d have to face big transformations in my life.  Personal computers, the internet, ebooks, GPS, cell phones, VHS, CD and DVD players, Facebook, texting, Twitter are inventions that change our society at an unrelenting pace.

Two of my favorite pastimes growing up were shopping for records and books.  I loved record and bookstores.  Whenever I’d visit a new city I’d seek out its best bookstores and music shops.  I really miss flipping through bins of LPs two or three times a week.  CDs were an exciting invention, but their tiny size ruined the love of the album cover.  Now even CDs are disappearing and I quit shopping at music stores years ago.  I got used to it.  Time rolls on.

My greatest identity in life is as a bookworm, and sadly bookstores are failing all around me.  Sales of hardbacks and paperbacks are way down from one year ago.  Yesterday, the local paper said my favorite bookstore is likely to go under unless the landlord makes major concessions to a liquidator that bought it.  And that’s partly my fault.  I’m reading and buying more books than ever, but I get them from Audible.com or Amazon.com, or used from ABEBooks.com (all three owned by Amazon).  For every ten books I read, nine I listen to, and one I read.  And that one I read is mainly in paper form now, but my Kindle will probably supplant that.  Time marches on.

Read “What Is a Book? The Definition Continues to Blue” for one of many ways in how publishing is evolving.  I get the feeling I’m living in times like when books went from scribe produced scrolls to Guttenberg printed volumes.  I’ve been messing around with ebook readers since the 1998 Rocket ebook.  Visionaries back then predicted a quick transition to ebooks, so I’ve sort of been expecting the change.  But when it was announced recently that hardback sales were down 43% from a year ago, and paperbacks down 41.5%, I was shocked it was really happening.  Kindles, Nooks and iPads are the future of books. Oh, I don’t think they will disappear, people still ride horses and buy LPs, but time is relentless, and change comes whether we want it or not.

I wonder if books will become collector items now?  But I’ve changed too, and I’d like to get rid of my book collection.  If I retire and start moving around the weight of my collection will be a heavy burden.  Ditto for my CDs.  Digital is just too damn convenient to ignore.  I loved bookstores, but I actually made more bookworm friends online than I ever did at a store.

And there are unimagined kinds of changes too.  Who could have predicted that a whole generation would grow up stealing their music, books and video?  They think everything should be free.   Did communism win after all?  If someone had told me as a teenager that bookstores and record stores would disappear and everything I wanted could be had for free on little gadgets I would have imagined a science fictional dystopian future.  Nor could I have pictured a future where kids wouldn’t sit around and listen to records together, but instead choose to live in their own little iPod worlds.

Time will continue to march relentlessly forward regardless of my wishes.  On one hand I want to feel wimpy and cry over the bookstores, but on the other hand I want to say “Fuck you time, bring it on, I can take whatever comes.”  If the bookstores close I won’t read any less.  I’m sure magazines and newspapers will be reborn as beautiful swans on future tablet computers.  And I’m sure super multimedia books will dazzle us and we’ll think of hardbacks as quaint as parchment.

I do miss the record store, but I don’t regret they are gone.  I’m listening to far more music than ever with my subscription to Rhapsody.  Instead of owning 1,500 albums, I have access to millions.  The internet is better than any newspaper or magazine that’s ever published.

It’s like when I was a kid talking to old people – I pitied them for having to grow up in a world without TV.   Well, I’m not going to feel self-pity because time bulldozed over my nostalgic habits.  Sorry bookstores, it was nice while it lasted.  I expect someday to talk to children and tell them how I used to read by holding words printed on paper and their little minds will boggle at the thought of such primitive living.

NOTE:  I sat down here to write a cry in my beer post lamenting that I might be losing my favorite bookstore Davis-Kidd.  I truly love bookstores, but as I wrote and rewrote I realized time has already changed me and I was just feeling nostalgia.  Don’t get me wrong, I expect bookstores to be around for years to come, but their days are numbered.  Time changes everything, and time does not stop.  I hate that so much in my life is no more or has changed beyond recognition, and it’s okay to feel a twinge of weepiness for the old days now and again, but I also know it would be unhealthy to cling to the past.

JWH – 4/23/11

The Ethics of Interstellar Colonization

We science fiction fans have always assumed the destiny of mankind is expanding our habitat across the galaxy, exploring new worlds, conquering new frontiers, expanding our territory, because that’s the kind of species we are.  But what are the ethical issues involved.  Think of the Federation policies in Star Trek, and it’s rules about first contact.  It’s pretty obvious that we should leave emerging civilizations alone, to let them find their own way, but what are the right ethical conditions for us to land on a planet and start colonizing it?

If it’s a rocky world like Mars I would think there would be no problems at all, even though some people do advocate leaving Mars untouched.  I think we at least have to establish two ends of the spectrum.  On the left is a dead world, and the right is emerging intelligent life, somewhere in between is where we need to place our mark as the beginning point for not interfering.

Let’s say we landed on a planet that had life like in the Jurassic, tiny brains and big bodies, and no chance of intelligent life appearing for a hundred million years, would it be okay to stay there and setup a colony?  Ignoring the butterfly effect, it should be possible to colonize this world without misdirecting the path of its evolution.  Now we couldn’t utilize this world like we’ve done Earth, using up all the resources and killing off endless species, but it might be possible to coexist with the indigenous life without doing much harm or changing its evolutionary direction.

It would be unethical to use up the heavy metals and other minerals, so we should import them from off planet and make sure we didn’t produce significant waste.

So how close in time to an emerging self aware intelligence should we stay?  Could we live on a planet with a homo erectus type intelligence and just avoid contact with them?

What about bringing other species with us from Earth?

What if we found a planet with simple life in the ocean, and simple plant life on the land, maybe just grasses and fern type species.  Should we introduce fish, trees, vegetables and fruits, along with dogs, cats, chickens, pigs, sheep, cows and horses?  Or should we believe that given enough time complex life would emerge on this planet and the life forms we bring with us would keep them from emerging?

Should the ethnical rule be that only intelligent species should travel to other planets.  So for dogs to go to the stars they would have to evolve and build their own space ships.  But what if we find worlds that have no life on them whatsoever and we terraform them for life, can we bring our animal and plant friends with us?  I would think yes.

How dangerous is the bacteria in our bodies?

But what about all the bacteria and viruses that live inside of us, won’t those contaminate a world and harm its evolution?  we might could live without viruses, but I don’t know, but it’s doubtful we could live without our bacteria friends.  We have a symbiotic relationship with them.

Are we alone?

Are we alone because there’s no other intelligent species near us, or because it would be unethical to contact us?  Are there wise beings all around us waiting for us to grow up?  If we are alone, and humans are the miracle of the galaxy does that give us ethical clout to colonize like crazy?  Would the greatest ethical crime of all reality be the one where we destroy ourselves or let ourselves be destroyed?  Or what if humans go extinct, and other animals and life continue living on the Earth for millions of years without ever becoming self-aware like we are?  Does it matter?  If a self-aware being arises in reality and dies and there’s no other aware beings to notice, do we make a sound?  Do we have an ethical obligation to expand our territory to other worlds so our species can live as long as possible?

What if we don’t go to the stars?

What if we never go to the stars, either because our bodies can’t handle living in space, or we can’t conquer the physics to travel such distances, and just continue to live on Earth, maybe for millions of years.  What does that mean philosophically?  What if we become fish in an aquarium looking at the glass forever?  Is just existing a good enough ethical existence?  What if expanding our abilities, influence and habitats define our meaning in reality?  What if it’s unethical for us not to try to colonize space?

JWH – 4/17/11

The Moral Landscape by Sam Harris

If we accept that God does not exist, who or what has the authority to define morality?  Sam Harris believes science can take on that job and makes a case for it in his new book The Moral Landscape.

The-Moral-Landscape

The concept is quite ambitious – treat morality like gravity, so its force is universal and applies equally to all.  Morality has always been relative, varying from culture to culture, and from religion to religion.  We are all too aware of this because of the conflict between Christianity and Islam, or even between the Old Testament and the New Testament.  What is right and wrong depends on the number of people backing the moral system.

Harris points out that moral relativism is the politically correct stance in our modern world.  If we discover a primitive culture that practices cannibalism, moral relativists do not want to condemn these different people for a practice we find horrifyingly immoral, and allows that cannibalism is morally right within its social concept.  Sam Harris believes that’s a load of crap, and I agree.

I’m reading The Moral Landscape in a non-fiction book club and the consensus is Sam Harris writing is too abstract and vague to make his case clearly and decisively.  How can moral issues be weighed and measured like chemical reactions?  Harris bases his hypothesis on contrasting the lives of intelligent self-aware beings.  If scientific studies can show that one course of behavior leads to a better life for the individual that can be considered scientific proof of morality.

Harris believes it’s obvious that morality should strive to create the best lives possible.  He goes on to muddle the issue, rightly by the way, that it’s very hard to determine what’s the best for any individual.  But throughout the book he tries to tie in many scientific studies that illuminate human nature.  I do recommend the book, it’s not a hard read, and has many fascinating concepts to consider, just don’t expect it to be conclusive proof of the concept.

I’m not sure science can define morality.  For me there’s always been three areas that define right and wrong:  morality, ethics and law.  Morality requires an authority, and for most of history God or gods decided morality.  Ethics is a consensus by philosophers, and laws are decided by governments.  Each system has its own problems.  Science is a system for exploring reality.  It’s impartial and indifferent.  Good and evil, or right and wrong might not exist in reality to be measured.  Ethics and laws might have to substitute for secular morality.

Looking at physics and chemistry, there is no right and wrong.  If we use biology as the basis for morality, survival of the fittest  is a cold form of morality.  If a lion eats an antelope we can’t call it murder.  As Sam Harris points out, morality can only come into play when we’re dealing with self-aware individuals.  Strangely, our species has created morality, and now tries to expand the concept to other species with the idea of animal rights.  Morality has always been an invention of mankind, he’s just used the concept of God to promote it.

Any scientific discussion of morality will be in the social sciences, an area that hard scientists sneer at for being soft.  In other words, imprecise.

Sam Harris uses female genital mutilation (FGM) as a moral issue to consider.  In some parts of the world female circumcision is a very moral practice, but in the west, we find it outrageously immoral.  Anthropology and sociology can defend the practice, so is such moral relativism an example of scientific morality?  Sam Harris says no.  If something is immoral in one part of the world, it should be equally immoral in another part of the world, and science should be able to prove it.

What Sam Harris shows is morality is tied to religion and people do not want to attack religions.  Religious morality always protects the religion rather than the individual.  He wants a morality that protects the individual.  And if you look at a secular society, it tries to protects the individual.  I don’t know if you can make a science out of that, but look at it this way, if the whole world gives up religion and its customs, will not the word morality mutate into what Sam Harris wants anyway, even without the endorsement of science?

Look at the revolution in Egypt.  Its people seem to want democracy.  Of course, the Muslim Brotherhood wants a theocracy, but what if all these revolutions in Islamic countries is a desire for personal freedoms?  Seeking a political solution is asking the legal system to make a moral decision.  In other words, we’ve been moving towards secular morality for thousands of years.  There’s been a shift in power from gods to humans.  Sam Harris wants science now to provide an impartial stamp of approval, but I’m not sure that’s needed.

JWH – 4/13/11

I’m 59, But Feel 19, But Something’s Wrong with My Body

A common sentiment among older people is they still feel young inside, just like when they were teenagers, but it’s their body that’s aging.  I feel that too, but yesterday it occurred to me that I have changed because of a conversation I had with my friend Mike.  We were talking about how bad the old TV show The Monkees was – it’s in reruns on Antenna TV.  Back in 1966, when I was 14, my sister and I loved that show.  Watching it now makes me think I must have been brain damaged!

The Monkees is a horrendous TV show.  It makes Gilligan’s Island feel like Shakespeare, and that’s another old show I loved as a kid but can’t stand now.  So I can’t really say I feel like I did when I was young, something has changed.  But why do I feel unchanged?

If I think about it I can come up with all kinds of ways I’ve changed.  When I was a kid I did stupid things like own a motorcycle, hitch-hike and take drugs, none of which I would do now.  I now think a much wider range of women are attractive, but that’s true of food, music, books, etc.  The more I think about it, the more I realize that I’m not the person I was when I was young.  So why do we feel we are?

I think the tendency is to feel that we’re a little soul driving around inside our head, steering our body until it turns into a rusted old junker.  Now I guess some people feel they are different inside as they age, but I think a lot of people don’t.  What causes that feeling?  It just occurred to me that I’ve reread things I wrote decades ago and felt I was reading someone else’s writing.  Are our inner beings unconnected to our thinking and opinions too, like they are from the body?

Is there a me inside of my body that’s unchanging even though my body changes, my tastes change, my opinions change, my skills change, and so on?  I know when I’m sick I can feel the me-ness shrink inside, like its being physically assaulted, but the uniqueness stays there no matter how much pain or nausea I feel until I pass out.  When I fall asleep the me goes away, but a tiny bit of it exists in dreams.  When I’ve had surgery and have been put under, it feels like the me has been shut off like a light switch and then suddenly turned back on.

It’s interesting to think of the me, the part of me that’s self-aware, is separate from my opinions and tastes. There’s a science fictional concept called downloading, where people imagine having their brains recorded and then burned into a clone’s brain or digital computer.  They think of this as a form of immortality, but what if the me is a mechanism of the brain that doesn’t copy?  What if the me is the equivalent of a tape-head, and not the tape?  So experiences flow past it but it doesn’t change with them?

But that doesn’t explain why I loved The Monkees in 1966 and hate it in 2011.  It implies that it’s not the tape head, or that the tape head does change over time.  Even though I feel like I’m the same person at 59 as I was a 19 that might be a delusion.  If I could put my 59 year old brain back into my 19 year old body would would I keep my wisdom or turn foolish?  Of course, if I could I put my 59 year old brain back into my 14 year old body would I start loving The Monkees again?  I don’t think so.

I’ve read that people with brain damage feel like different people.  I’m guessing the brain is what feels homey and constant, and it’s the physical body that feels different with aging, and the informational content of the brain that makes my tastes change.  What I worry about is having a stroke or getting Alzheimer’s and losing part of my me-ness.  I’m already used to my body breaking down.  And I’m getting used to forgetting information in my brain, which doesn’t hurt by the way.  But I don’t relish losing that feeling of unchanging me-ness.  But sometimes the me dies before the body.

NOTE:  I think a lot of people read my stuff and think I’m depressed because I write about what they think are depressing topics.  But I’m not depressed at all.  I marvel at all the changes in my life.  I regret not being able to hang onto everything, but that’s not how things work and I accept it.  I don’t want to experience decline and death, but I don’t have any choice, so I like to philosophize about what I’m going through.  And I’m trying to learn from those explorers ahead of me, those folks in their 70s, 80s and 90s.

JWH – 4/11/11

Amazon Cloud versus iTunes versus Rhapsody Music

All my music loving friends are building their digital collection of tunes, but we’re all doing it differently.  Many of us have bought the same music over and over again in different formats.  I’ve bought LPs, CDs, SACDs and currently pay for streaming rights.  I know some people that have done LP, CD, and are now back to buying LPs again.  Younger people tend to have only acquired MP3/AAC files, but they have a hard time maintaining them.  You’ll know what I mean if you’ve ever had a computer go dead or stolen, or have gone from an iPod to an Android smartphone, or any other platform or hardware shift.

When Amazon Cloud came out the other day I bought “Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands” by Bob Dylan in the fourth format I’ve owned in since 1967 (LP, CD, SACD, MP3), and that doesn’t count the monthly fees for streaming that I pay to hear it.

What me and my music friends want is a place to collect our music so that we can organize it once and for all and have it for the rest of our lives no matter what kind of gadgets we own to play our music.  On the surface Amazon Cloud looks very promising, but if I put my 18,000+ (117gb) songs in their cloud I’ll be paying Amazon as much for cloud storage rent as I pay Rhapsody to have access to 11 million streaming songs.

Obviously I think anyone who is willing to spend at least $9.99 per month on music gets their best deal at Rhapsody, and all other choices depend on spending less per month.

I very seldom listen to my CDs any more, and I rarely buy them.  When I discover an album I really love and I’m afraid it’s going to go out of print someday, or I’m anxious to hear it in its highest form of sound fidelity, I buy the CD.  But I can almost see myself giving up CDs and living with Rhapsody music for the rest of my life.  If I only knew that streaming music will catch on and will always be offered in the future, I’d sell my CDs.

There’s one huge downside to streaming music – services like Rhapsody can only offer music that’s for sale.  If an album or song goes out of print then it’s removed from the service.  Maybe in the future nothing will ever go out of print, but for now I can’t trust that.  If I really love a song I have to buy a copy.  I don’t want to be an old man crying, “I’d give anything to hear that song one more time.”

Now, if I was as unethical as kids and willing to steal my music things would be different, because everything seems to be available for free online.  However, there is a cost for stealing music that I think is pretty high.  Building a collection of stolen MP3s take a lot of work and time.  Rhapsody is easy and convenient.  Amazon Cloud is easy and convenient too, but I’d have to always buy MP3 versions of songs I wanted to keep, and that means I’d spend more money than I do now at Rhapsody.  First would be the fees for storing my old ripped CD songs, and second the price of any new songs I added in the future.

Also, if I switched to Amazon Cloud service, I’d have to give up listening on my iPod touch, and would need to buy an equivalent Android device, like an Archos 43, or start spending a lot of money and get a smartphone.  Rhapsody works wonderfully from my iPod touch, but Apple might screw things up for Rhapsody in the future.  Amazon seems to have no plans to offer their cloud service to the iOS devices.

I could go with Apple, but that would mean listening to a tiny fraction of music that I do now for the same money.  iTunes is absolutely the worse deal of the bunch.  If Apple had kept everything about the Lala streaming music service they bought, I would have probably given up Rhapsody.  Lala was a fantastic social service for music lovers.  Apple seems to have no plans to provide a streaming music service despite years of rumors.

Rhapsody.com and Audible.com are two Internet companies that I spend money on.  Not only are they a commercial success with me, but I’d hate to live without them.  Both work well with my iPod touch.  Both have great clients for my PC.  Both support a wide range of devices and smartphones in case I want to use something new.  And I don’t have to worry about backing up any of my files I get from them.

Sorry Amazon and Apple, your model of owning music just isn’t practical, efficient or cost effective.  I don’t know why all my music friends don’t use Rhapsody or other streaming music services.  I think most of them started with Apple and just don’t want to switch.  I discussed this with a woman at work Friday.  She has 32gb of music in iTunes.  She’d like to get an Android phone because they have physical keyboards, but she doesn’t want to deal with porting that many AAC files to MP3.

Now that is one advantage to the Amazon Cloud for owning music – if Amazon stays in business, is always trustworthy, and protects its cloud data 100% – because the cloud takes over most of the hassle of managing the files.  If there was no subscription music services I’d definitely be going with Amazon.  But like my friends stuck in iTunes, what happens if something new comes out in the future that doesn’t work with Amazon’s cloud?

So what would be the ideal music delivery system?  One that offers every song ever recorded with the most convenient interface to whatever device I’m listening with at the moment with nearly instant and perfect search tools.  Whether that’s based on buying songs or renting them, it would make listening to music the easiest possible outside of telepathic transmission of music.

But it’s not the best way to collect music.  I’m reading The Man Who Loved Books Too Much by Allison Hoover Bartlett, about a rare book thief.  The book provides a great insight into compulsive collecting, and I think it’s also a clue as to why some people will always want to buy music in a physical format.  It also explains why LPs are making a comeback.  Those big 12” discs in beautiful jackets are an art form that some people love.  But if you love to listen to music, streaming music is to great to resist.

It will be interesting if I live to 2020 or there about, because I bet this music problem will probably be completely resolved by then.

JWH – 4/9/11