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The Paradox of Choice Lost Me at Hello

My friend Geoff at The Junto started a book club at his place of business, P’unk Avenue. I thought I’d read along. The book to be read is The Paradox of Choice: Why More Is Less by Barry Schwartz.

Ding #1 came in the intro. Much of the funding for the research in the book (and perhaps funding for the book itself) came from the Positive Psychology set. As a scientist and technologist, I have to say I’m not at all impressed with the dubious basis of the Positive Psych movement, the center at Penn, and its leader Marty Seligman (Just look into the Templeton Foundation and its religious objectives, then ask yourself how religion gets into the business of funding research, and how reliable those results must be…)

Marty Seligman is mentioned in the first few words of The Paradox of Choice’s Acknowledgments. That is usually enough to stop me. But I read through it and moved onto the first page. This is where we hit Ding #2. Mr. Schwartz begins with whining about how hard it was to shop for a pair of jeans. Not, mind you, how hard it is to find jeans that fit, but Mr. Schwartz complains that it took him more than 5 minutes to shop for a pair of jeans because, Horror of Horrors!, the store clerk tells him that the store has different options in jean styles:

“Do you want them slim fit, easy fit, relaxed fit, baggy or extra baggy?” she replied. “Do you want them stonewashed, acid-washed, or distressed? Do you want them button-fly or zipper-fly? Do you want them faded or regular?”

This was all too much for Mr. Schwartz. He complains that he just wants “regular” jeans and that the whole shopping trip should have taken less than 5 minutes. He says:

Before these options were available, a buyer like myself had to settle for an imperfect fit, but at least purchasing jeans was a five-minute affair. Now it was a complex decision in which I was forced to invest time, energy and no small amount of self-doubt, anxiety, and dread.

This was where I stopped reading. Let me tell you why.

1. The whole image/metaphor reeks of solely the male perspective. We women don’t want to settle for an imperfect fit. We’ve been doing that for years and we pushed the industry to give us more options. We could use a few more, actually. Mr. Schwartz’s whole complaint and value set (time is worth more than effort in terms of looking your best) did not apply to me. The rest of the book would undoubtedly be tainted with this old-white-guy perspective, and I have had enough of that.

2. Why did Mr. Schwartz go to the Gap (or some similar denim specialty store) to buy jeans? He could’ve had his 5-minute shopping experience at a store like Kohl’s or JC Penney, where the jean selections for men are trimmed to the bare essentials. Mr. Schwartz fabricated this situation just for the book. I’m sure he doesn’t normally shop at the junior or trendy stores normally. If he set up this shopping situation for the book’s sake, then what other research in the book was set up? His credibility was lost even further. This plus the whole Templeton Foundation/Marty Seligman association is enough to make me shut the book.

So, that’s that. The Paradox of Choice wasn’t much of a choice for me at all. I could’ve set aside my disdain for the Positive Psychology associations to just see what Mr. Schwartz’s perspective was, but with this particular opening scene, I knew the book wasn’t credible AND it didn’t apply to me. He obviously didn’t have any women read, edit or feedback on that first chapter. He should’ve chosen shopping for electronics instead of something so gender biased as jeans (or clothes in general).

So annoying.

Anyway, Geoff, sorry. I can’t hang with this particular spewage. Maybe the next book can be one of Dan Ariely’s or Daniel Pink’s books, both authors I interviewed for my podcast. Those are actually good, gender-neutral, well-researched and credible works.

Did you read The Paradox of Choice? Let me know what you thought.

______________

Links:

The Junto

P’unk Avenue book club

Dan Pink

Dan Ariely

6 comments

Alternative Book Titles on NYTimes’ Schott’s Vocab

Each weekend NYTimes book blog Schott’s Vocab hosts a contest.  Ben Schott’s contests usually have something to do with making up new words. One entry I gave in months ago for the prompt “A new euphemism for dying” (e.g., kicked the can, bought the farm) was “Blue-screened.” There are no prizes for the contest, it’s just fun for word geeks.

This past weekend the prompt was “Alternative Book Titles,” based on the blog BetterBookTitles.com. After the weekend is over, Schott posts a few highlights from the entries. Mr. Schoot chose my two Dr. Seuss alternative book titles to highlight today:

“Green Eggs and Ham” – “Eating Habits of The Human Toddler.”

“The Cat in The Hat” – “This Is Why We Can’t Have Anything Nice.”

Fun!

Anyway, this alternative book title exercise would be a fun game to play with friends. I’m thinking about constructing a question around it to use for book club discussion, e.g., If you could rename this book to warn people what it’s really about, what would you name it? It would make a fun wrap-up question. You’d definitely get to the bottom of people’s true opinion of the book.

-Christine Cavalier

Check it out.

Here are the links for things mentioned above: (I’m not hypertexting anymore. I can’t stand to read it and I don’t see the value in pointing a reader away from the post whilst in the midst of reading the post).

The Schott’s Vocab blog: http://schott.blogs.nytimes.com/

The better book titles highlighted entries: http://schott.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/10/11/jane-austen-no-romance-without-finance/

Better Book Titles: http://betterbooktitles.com/

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EFTPS (Electronic Tax Payment) Scam

The Federal Government of the United States of America isn’t going to send you an email saying your tax payment failed. The latest email scam has “EFTPS TAX PAYMENT” in the title. It’s trying to fool you into making an EFTPS payment to a fake address. The address looks legit, but it isn’t. It’s a redirected URL that will take you to a scam site. It all looks legitimate, but it isn’t. As I said, The EFTPS system will NOT send you an email asking for money.

Don’t click on any link sent to you an in email that solicits payments. Let me repeat: DON’T CLICK ANY LINKS IN EMAILS THAT ASK FOR PAYMENTS. That is a steadfast rule you should follow at all times for every communication sent to you. If you think you may, in fact, owe a company, store, etc. a payment, start up another tab or window in your web browser and type in the name of the company in the search bar. Find the official site URL. Get to the site and go into your account. NEVER use the link from any email sent to you that asks for payments, or for that matter, password changes (If you’ve requested a password change from a site, then OK, but this is the only exception).

I received this “EFTPS” email about 6 times today, all in the same account. It listed different federal tax payment ID numbers, of course, none of which were even close to my Social Security Number. If you receive this email, put the sender in your “Spam” filter and delete the email immediately. THE EFTPS EMAIL IS A SCAM. Do NOT click the link.

Your Federal Tax Payment ID: 010375185 has been rejected.

Return Reason Code R21 – The identification number used in the Company Identification Field is not valid.

Please, check the information and refer to Code R21 to get details about your company payment in transaction contacts section:

http://eftps.gov/R21
In other way forward information to your accountant adviser.
EFTPS:
The Electronic Federal Tax Payment System
PLEASE NOTE: Your tax payment is due regardless of EFTPS online
availability. In case of an emergency, you can always make your tax
payment by calling the EFTPS.

Snopes.com, a scam awareness site, doesn’t have anything on “R21” yet, but here is a list of all the entries on the site that mention “Federal Tax” http://search.atomz.com/search/?sp-q=federal+tax&x=13&y=11&sp-a=00062d45-sp00000000&sp-advanced=1&sp-p=all&sp-w-control=1&sp-w=alike&sp-date-range=-1&sp-x=any&sp-c=100&sp-m=1&sp-s=0

Snopes does have an entry for a similar EFTPS email, one that says the EFTPS payment was rejected: http://www.snopes.com/fraud/phishing/irsrefund.asp

15 comments

Curation of Purple Cars

I curate pictures of purple cars on-line. Mostly my collection is housed and limited to Flickr pics. If I find a purple car on Flickr, I add it to a new feature the site calls “Galleries”. I have two galleries o’ cars d’ purple. Here’s the link to my purple car curation galleries: http://www.flickr.com/photos/purplecar/galleries/72157624941570735/

I have a Google Alert set on the term “Purple Car” and all its variants. I sometimes get great pictures that aren’t in Flickr, like this one by user Kenan2010 on Deviant Art:

Purple Car by Kenan2010 on Deviant Art

Purple Car by Kenan2010

I love Flickr, but I needed a one-step process to add great purple car art outside the site to a gallery. Enter Pinterest (http://pinterest.com/), a web app that lets users collect pictures with links into galleries. Pinterest gives me a “Pin It!” button in my Firefox toolbar. Today, beginning with this photo, I started a new purple car art curation on Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/christinecavalier/purple-cars/. I’ve opened up the gallery so others can add pics. Join Pinterest and share the Purple Car LOVE!

Curation like this is the newest thing in web life. People are finding all sorts of ways to collect pictures, links, comments, quotes, any electronic data they want to “keep.” This amateur curation hobby has been the subject of study by academics interested in Sociology, Psychology and Anthropology. YouTube curations have been around since the beginning of YouTube. Now apps like Pinterest are popping up all over. I didn’t think I had a use for curation until I realized that I was, in fact, collecting pictures of purple cars on Flickr. (Doh!)

What do you collect? Do you sort through the potential additions to your collection and reject some while adding others? This is curation! Let me know in the comments what little museum gallery you are constructing online.

-Christine Cavalier

Purple Car by Kenan2010 on Deviant Art 2 comments

End of Sharing as We Know It

No Ranting

No Ranting!

Everyone’s online now.

It stinks.

I miss the early days of the Internet. In 1989, the Internet was an exclusive club where I could tell all my problems to strangers online. On Internet Relay Chat (IRC) channels, fellow tech geeks would happily read my rants about bosses, relatives or friends. In turn, I’d allow them to vent. Together we whined into the internet abyss yet received no ramifications. Unlike today’s faceless, mean-spirited voters on HotOrNot.com or sardonic commenters on YouTube, chatters in the olden days were authentic. Truth was free; you didn’t have to pay for it with stunned expressions or cold-shoulder silence. It was easy to type out intimate feelings and immediate reactions. The genuine perspectives I gathered in those days were invaluable; they made me a better person. It was a beautiful, cathartic experience.

That’s all gone now.

Back then, there were billions of unassigned numerical Internet Protocol (IPv4) addresses. Today, it’s estimated that the 4 billion Internet addresses originally allocated by IPv4 will run out by 2012. Just like with telephone numbers, we need longer Internet Protocol addresses just to keep things working. Today, to call across the street we have to punch in 10 numbers. Cell phones changed the way we dialed, and the advent of the Internet application called the World Wide Web changed the way we go online. The Web made the Internet accessible. A person doesn’t need programming skills to get online like I did to chat on IRC. Now everyone is demanding their own spot on the Internet. Millions log on to the Internet at least once daily.

People I thought would never be online, like my in-laws, are now on Facebook. My neighbors follow my Twitter updates. The parents of my kids’ friends read my blog (I’m looking at you, Mr. Hunter!). My favorite IRC channel is dead because even we old school chatters know Google sees all. Across the nation, we have stalker-moms who “friend” their children’s connections in social networks. We have Moral Police raids conducted by everyone from employers to grade-school principals using exhaustive (therefore merciless) search engines. It’s as if we’re all living in the limelight, a level of Warhol’s Hell that’s a constant 15-minute loop from which there is no escape.

Despite my advanced level of technical skill, I find no shelter from the scrutiny. My tech friends suggest I start up a new, private account where I feel free to rant. After all, they say, a hearty rant is the soul of the Internet. But Google is the now keeper of souls. Any “secret” accounts would eventually be linked with my main online presence. The people I complain about would see my posts. Clients of my writing services will get bad impressions.

I’ve tried ranting to real life friends; It isn’t the same. All the social mores are in place, all the expectations, all the sympathy. There are no safe places for me to be that boundless, pitiful, carefree college kid typing white letters onto a black terminal screen late into a Friday night. So I stick with the rules. On Twitter, I stay within the realms of psychology and technology or else I lose followers in droves. On my family Facebook account, I dare not get too technical or I face ridicule from my non-geeky relations. Online and off, it’s as if I’m some sort of 21st century Stepford wife, programmed with the endless variants of etiquette that each social situation or website dictates.

Perhaps it isn’t the lassaiz-tongue Internet I miss as much as youth itself. Despite the media focus on sexting, cyberbullying and over-sharing, today’s youth are reigning in their typical indiscretions. 71% of 18-29 year olds have hidden personal information online in order to protect their privacy, according to the May 2010 Pew Internet study. Whatever happened to the old-fashioned freak-out, the bad break-up poetry or the stupid supervisor stories? It’s all quickly disappearing. The Millennial Generation realizes the Web doesn’t have a universal erase button. They are wiser than we think. Yet they’ll never know what it’s like to share safely and without worry. Sure, we’ll still see TMI (TooMuch Information) blogs. I marvel at some of the more famous mom-bloggers who reveal all. I could never do that on today’s Internet. I lament this loss like disco kids mourned the pre-AIDS days of Studio 54.

Where are you in all of this? Do you rant online? Do you share a lot? Why? What happens when you do? Let’s discuss.

-Christine Cavalier

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